Sustainable Tourism, by David Weaver
Chapter 3 Relational Summary
Lecture by Dr. Thomas H. Culhane
Chapter 3 Relational Summary
Lecture by Dr. Thomas H. Culhane
Patel College of Global Sustainability
Chapter 3:
Alternative Tourism
I remember kneeling
in front of a Macadamia tree, the source of one of my very favorite
foods, celebrating its presence in front of the backpackers hostel in a remote part of Australia, picking up the hard opaque brown marble shaped
nutballs that fell from clusters on the branches, and then wondering ‘how in
the hell am I going to get this open?”
With pistachios or almonds it is fairly simple. With a macadamia? I tried throwing it on the pavement as hard
as I could but it just bounced away, I
tried pounding it with a rock but the perfect sphere maintained its shape. Finally a friendly local came by with a special nutcracker and showed
me the “secret white dot” that indicated the natural fracture line joining the
dot to the stem point. It is a piece of indigenous knowledge they didn’t have
in the guide book. And so I became a temporary hunter gatherer: I cracked and I
gathered and I cracked and I feasted.
The nuts are high in healthy monounsaturated fats, and are a
rich source of protein, vitamin A, iron, B vitamins, antioxidants, calcium, and
micronutrients. I didn’t even need to go to a restaurant any more, I was told
by health conscious and budget conscious fellow travelers, just fill my backpack with free and abundant macadamias,
normally one of the most expensive nuts in the world, and go travelling. One
could live off them for quite a while, like the Aboriginals did on walkabout. And that was my introduction to backpacker
culture.
Backpacker culture is a form of alternative tourism that has
been quite contentious, called by Weaver (p. 48) more “controversial” than any
other forms of alternative tourism. Some even question whether it even
qualifies as alternative tourism, given that the backpackers even describe
themselves as “anti-tourist” and many in
the tourism industry simply consider it “undesirable”. Only a few destinations,
notably Australia, through its National Backpacker Tourism Strategy, have
“deliberately cultivated this market in recognition of its substantial economic
impact.” Other countries try to discourage it because they feel it doesn’t make a serious contribution to
the economy. Part of this is due to its
informality and ironically to the fact that the backpackers “adhere to many
core tenets of alternative tourism, such as the preference for small-scale,
locally owned accommodations, independent travel arrangements and a desire to
interact with local residents.” P 47.
By staying in a backpacker’s lodge I got to meet some of the
most interesting people I’d encountered on the planet, got the inside word on
the most spectacular unspoiled attractions and felt I suddenly belonged to a
global family of fairly sincere, , very friendly, trustworthy and open-minded
travelers whom I could rely on and be friends with long after my trip
down-under was over. We felt like a
tribe. And it was inexpensive. And the food was great. Quite different from the usual packaged tour.
My introduction to backpacker culture put me in touch with
hostel culture, a world wide network of low-budget but high sustainability
concept minded individuals who share
enthusiasms for hiking and biking, riding public transit, living off the grid,
eating healthy local food, appreciating cultures not their own and sharing
stories and song and dance that celebrate and
empower both the traveler and the local people. Backpackers by and large
form possible the most sustainable form of tourism from a social equity and
environmental perspective.
Not everybody appreciates their social aspect however.
Weaver reports, “In
other destinations, and Third World ones in particular (e.g. Bhutan, Maldives
and the Indian state of Goa), some residents and decision makers continue to
decry backpackers as ‘hippies’ who produce few economic benefits to compensate
for behavior that is perceived as antisocial and harmful to local communities. Hence their tendency has been to discourage
or ‘demarket’ this segment.”
Reasons cited are the usual “promiscuity and drug taking”, and that does exist, but the ultraliberal counterculture travelers of the 60’s and 70’s has been “sanitized” and most backpackers are now ‘post-hippie’ and many refuse to smoke anything, refuse to drink alcohol and won’t by junk food, much less throw the packing and wrappers on the beach. In fact many will voluntarily remove trash and broken beer bottles from attractive wilderness areas to keep them pristine. That actually makes them fine stewards of our environments, but lousy consumers for businesses seeking to push more potato chips and coca cola into tourists mouths. More to the point, it is their perceived frugality and disdain for commercial tour operators that gives todays sustainability minded backpackers and other alternative tourists a bad reputation in countries where, unlike Australia, a volume generating infrastructure and culture has not been encouraged to capture economic benefits from a form of tourism that is low expenditure but typically long stay.
Hampton (1998) and
Scheyvens (2002), among others, “argue that backpackers can be highly
beneficial to developing countries. One positive effect for local residents is
the willingness of backpackers to purchase non-luxury goods and services from
informal sector businesses whose access to conventional tourists is often
deliberately curtailed by government and /or the formal tourism industry. “ (p.
48). And because the capital and skill
requirements for serving this clientele are less restrictive and often more
creative, “new informal sector businesses can be created” creating greater chances for social equity.
For example, on one low-budget trip to Belize, I bought “bitters” off of a
local Guarafuna woman (local healing herbs that you can make teas out of) and
she called my attention to a “cola drink” that was locally manufactured from
real cola nuts, was not carbonated, and
was actually good for you and encouraged the growth of rainforest cola nut
trees. Coca cola doesn’t use real cola
nuts anymore! Now that is quite an alternative.
You see, alternative tourism is supposed to be an alternative, and if mass tourism is defined by out-of-destination booking agents, package deals and multi-national corporate hotel and service chains and the food and beverage corporations that serve them, then the overt ‘anti-tourism’ identity cultivated by this distinctive subculture, which actively seeks to avoid interacting with mass tourism’s travelers and services and products should actually be the most celebrated form of alternative tourism we have. And that is why, despite its controversial elements, I start with it in this chapter’s relational summary.
At the other end of the spectrum is a form of alternative
tourism that I also spend a lot of my time engaged in which so far has garnered
almost no controversy at all. This is what we now call “Voluntourism” aka
“Volunteer Tourism”.
Under this heading comes a diverse array of “experiences and
settings that involve tourists who receive no financial compensation while
undertaking various forms of, usually, organized, social and/or environmental
work in the destination (Wearing, 2001). It is explicitly associated with
enhancement sustainability , notably not just from the destination perspective,
but also in terms of the personal development of the participating tourist.” P.
45
I have engaged in voluntourism activities with
environmental, religious and social-non-profit groups. My first experiences were with Baptist
missionaries in Borneo and then with the international organization Earthwatch
that involves tourists in rigorous scientific work with university professors.
I chose to do rain
forest insect surveys in Australia and the sultanate of Brunei. In graduate school I volunteered with
environmental groups at the Eco-Escuela in the Peten rainforest region of
Guatemala (I have a thing for rainforests!) and for the past decade I have been
running my own voluntourism experiences through my NGO “Solar CITIES, taking
students, interns and visitors into urban slums and impoverished villages in
Africa and the Middle East to learn how to build functional solar hot water and
biogas systems with communities in need.
Where conventional tourisms benefits are “usually quantified
in terms of direct tourist revenues that eventuate in economic growth and
lifestyle enhancement of residents with the destination... volunteer tourism,
in contrast, entails a more immediate connection between tourist activity (i.e.
the volunteer work) and tangible benefits for residents, (e.g. improved
housing, education and medical care of the natural environment”. (p. 45)
Examples cited by the book are
volunteers for Conservation Volunteers Australia who logged 45000 days of work, valued at AU$5 million.
Weaver says “there is as yet no overt criticism of volunteer
tourism, in part because little research has been undertaken, but also because
its laudable character and outcomes may render it more resistant to critical
scrutiny.” P. 46
From a sociocultural standpoint there is always the “danger”
that some tourists may try to use the opportunity to proselytize and evangelize
and affect the beliefs and attitudes of the people they are helping (certainly
this is what the Baptist missionaries I visited and volunteered with were doing
among the Dyak tribes of Borneo) but
this perspective is predicated on the assumption that the people in the
destination country are somehow ignorant and vulnerable and can’t evaluate
tourists motives on their own merits. This concern itself smacks of racist,
classist undertones.
Another “danger” cited is that some volunteers may be driven by their own ego satisfaction and the status they gain from helping the disadvantaged, but my experience has been that the indigenous people experiencing the tangible benefits of this free labor and transfer of ideas and technology and the income generated, could really care less what the hidden motives of the tourists are as long as they are friendly and respectful and the job gets done. To suggest that tourists coming to help at their own expense somehow robs 21st century, globally interconnected people-in-need of their agency is a stretch, and is itself patronizing and insulting. Even on the “last mile” expedition with National Geographic that I went on to the most remote parts of Nepal a couple of years ago, people had smart phones and internet access and knew all about what was going on in so-called ‘civilization’. The fact that we delivered and installed solar electric panels and hot water systems was what counted to them (they were things they had a great desire for but simply couldn’t afford or didn’t know how to create or install), and if I felt a glow of satisfaction and a bit of an ego kick watching women line up in the frigid morning to fill buckets with steaming hot water from a new vacuum tube solar system that I purchased and installed as a volunteer, eager to post pictures of my accomplishment to impress my friends on facebook, hooray for me. The people in the village were doing the same thing. Almost everywhere in the world people have facebook.
As with backpacking tourism allowing informal sector
expansion whose revenues and benefits cannot easily be codified or captured by
out-of-destination tourism operators, voluntourism actually reveals some of the
cracks in the way tourism is conceived as a “center-periphery” form of hegemony. Since tourism has its origins in leisure
class travelers moving from the MDC countries to the “international pleasure
periphery” (see p. 4 in the book again), with a legacy of colonialist era
paradoxes skewing social and business relationships, outside entities profiting
from exploitation of the low cost labor and services in LDCs tend to have a
patronizing attitude toward the local population. People who are not sensitive to the post-colonial and racial dialectic often can’t see this, but it becomes
manifest to many of us who come from former colonies or exploited and
marginalized cultural or racial groups when we ourselves engage in a volunteer
tourism experience.
For example, as an
American of Irish and Iraqi heritage, when I travelled to economically
depressed Ireland and war torn Iraq to help train people in the construction of
food-waste-to-fuel-and-fertilizer biodigestion systems there was no sense of
“white privilege” or the “othering” that political economist Edward Said
eloquently describes in his classic book “Orientalism”. I was actually seen mostly as a returning son of Ireland and Iraq whose
grandparents and great grandparents had sent their children to America
precisely in the hopes that we would do well and one day return to bring those
benefits back home.
This mission of what mythologist/anthropologist Joseph
Campbell called “return with the elixir” in his analysis of “The Heroe’s
Journey”, is part of the hopeful narrative common to the diaspora of displaced
peoples worldwide and continues through an intergenerational time and space
horizon. Ironically, this widened scope
of engagement helps to create the very intergenerational equity that the
sustainability indicators are seeking to measure and the WTO is trying to
promote. You won’t find that in the strictly controlled and sanitized world of
mass tourism!
Now that there is so much more LDC to LDC tourism, and LDC to MDC tourism is growing, the benefits of volunteer tourism are beginning to flow in a myriad of directions, with no clear center or periphery.
Now that there is so much more LDC to LDC tourism, and LDC to MDC tourism is growing, the benefits of volunteer tourism are beginning to flow in a myriad of directions, with no clear center or periphery.
As an extreme example, even as American ‘sunlust’ tourists
are now beginning to flow again to Cuba to drink and frolic on the beaches, the
opening of Cuba is allowing informal Cuban tourists to come to the US to share
ideas of organic agriculture and communitarian viewpoints. The pleasures derived from voluntourism are
not merely conspicuous consumption pleasures, but Prosumption pleasures, where,
to borrow the concept from futurist Alvin Toffler, “Production and Consumption
are part of the same activitiy.”
Voluntourism in the post-modern and increasingly miscegenated world is therefore not just an alternative form of
tourism in the leisure sense, but increasingly a meaningful form of active
knowledge and technology transfer.
Guesthouse tourism, homestay tourism and farmhouse tourism
are other forms of alternative tourism
that are growing as less powerful local individuals and groups begin to
recognize the strengths of their own assets and experiences and wrest some
control back from outside-country mass tourism operators and government
entities that work in collusion with them.
The irony is that these forms of tourism,
particularly the farm based stays, are actually “the longest established forms
of organized (and hence deliberate) alternative forms of tourism,” says Weaver
on page 44, “having been in existence in Europe as a formal industry since the
late 1800’s”. They started because
farmers needed ways to supplement and diversify their incomes. Weaver points out that “critically, tourism typically
accounts for only a small portion of a vacation farm’s total income, but this
revenue is perceived by many operators… to constitute the difference between
survival and failure.”
In each of these forms of tourism, the major beneficiaries have been women and so supporting these alternatives goes a long way toward meeting the gender equality improvements called for by the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDG 5). Whether it is a deliberately conceived guest house or a homestay or farmstay where tourists rent a room vacated by children who have left the nest, “the tourism component provides income and power for female adult household members who provide most of the relevant labor”.
This is in stark contrast with the mass tourism industry
which, like most corporate activities, is male dominated and where, even when
women play a large role in operations, the benefits usually go to tour
operators in tourist sending countries and to elites in tourist receiving
countries. Alternative tourism acts as a
leveler of sorts, allowing more people entry into the sector.
In Europe, which has the longest history of these types of tourism, they use the concept of “consortia to compensate for the disadvantages associated with small size”. They “pool member resources to pursue integrated marketing and product development strategies, more effectively represent the interests of members and provide access to relevant information and financing.” The logic of this goes back to Proudhon’s concept of aggregation economies where small holders, through cooperatives, can have the same economies of scale experienced by more monolithic and vertically integrated operations.
Another great advantage of these forms of tourism is that
they can offer home cooked meals, farm to table meals, local transportation and
knowledgeable local guides, and access to sites “off the beaten path” that few
people get to see, adding value through that intense local knowledge. In my travels through Ireland, England and
Germany and France and other parts of Europe I’ve been a frequent guest of all
three of these forms and have found the hospitality and personal touch to be
among the most enjoyable part of the stays.
Unlike mass tourism where you come back from an excursion merely to
check into your hotel room, in the guest house, homestay and farmstay
alternatives I found myself coming home to a family of fascinating people and to an opportunity to share and discover
that was as fun or more fun as that day’s
outside activity. In fact, the
farm or home or guest house is often the destination and attraction itself,
offering fruit and berry picking, horse riding, livestock petting and milking,
great walks, swimming in local ponds, history lessons and wonderful cooking
experiences.
These types of tourism can usually be classified as either
“Deliberate” or “Circumstantial”. They are deliberate when there is a
regulatory framework that deliberately keeps it alternative, with ‘anti-market’
measures that are monitored by the local community and “are intended to maintain .. the
constellation of structural characteristics in the long-term interests of
community well-being… restricting
visitor numbers and infrastructural
capacity, requiring accommodations to have majority local ownership,
designating architectural standards and height limits and requiring that most
goods and services be obtained from local sources.”
Circumstantial alternative tourism on the other hand, means that “the apparent adherence to alternative tourism simply reflects that the destination is experiencing ‘exploration’ or ‘involvement-type circumstances within the destination life cycle model” that we described in chapter one with the famous Butler S-curve model. If there is no regulatory framework in place, says Weaver, “there is no insurance against the possibility that tourism will evolve into something more intensive and/or less benign” P. 43
The trick is to create an alternative tourism status quo that can compete successfully with the mass tourism status quo that most destinations end up replicating as population pressures and the desire of operators to capture those potential revenue streams increase.
In the mid 2000s while doing my Ph.D. in Cairo Egypt, I
started helping to create a form of what the book calls “Urban Cultural
Heritage tourism” that I called the
“Solar CITIES Urban Eco-tour of informal sector Cairo”. This was in keeping with what Weaver calls
“the early emphasis on sociocultural attractions and Third World venues” that
arose “partly in response to the cautionary platform’s focus on the social,
cultural, and economic costs of mass tourism in pleasure periphery
destinations, where the need for more appropriate forms of tourism was deemed
to be most urgent.”
I had made many
visits to the standard tourist destinations in Egypt, from the Pyramids and the
Valley of the Kings to the coral reefs of the Sinai and Red Sea Coast, and was
particularly disturbed by a river boat trip down the Nile I took with my
parents where, docked near one of the more spectacular ancient ruins along the
river alongside a dozen other massive river cruise ships, the smoke from the
boats exhaust was so thick we could hardly see across the river, the air so
toxic we couldn’t breathe even inside our sealed air conditioned rooms, and the
crowds so large as to suggest these ancient marvels wouldn’t last another century
much less millenium. I also participated in coral reef and beach and desert
ecosystem clean ups, scuba diving as a voluntourist to try and remove plastic
trash and bottles thrown overboard by irresponsible pleasure seekers and biking
and hiking in the desert valleys removing plastic bags from shrubs and trees. The
plastic bag problem is so bad in Egypt that locals call flying plastic trash
bags “the national bird of Egypt”.
Meanwhile, I was
doing my dissertation in what is called ‘Garbage City” where the Zabaleen
people, named with Arabic word for “trash pickers” eke out a living recycling
all the city’s filth and waste that they can collect in their donkey carts and
pickup trucks. I was already doing my
own “volunteer tourism” work with them, building solar hot water systems and
biodigesters, and one day a young local trash picker named Hanna Fathy who helped his church by giving tours of a
famous local monastery carved into the rocky hills, brought a group of American
church tourists at the end of his tour to one of the schools where I was teaching
kids to build renewable energy systems.
The tourists were so impressed that as we built more systems and more of
them came to see them, including several on this young man’s roof, he and I and
other local guys formed the NGO Solar
CITIES. We recruited some of his friends
and family members as both expert builders and tour guides and began to
advertise our tours of their “sustainability minded slum” on the web.
We quickly became well known and the Nile Guide Tourism book listed us
as one of the top destinations for alternative tourists seeking to both see
things the masses never get to see, and help people at the same time.
Our experience was again consistent with Weaver’s observation that “Ecumenical church groups in both the developing and developed regions played a lead role not only in pointing out the problems with Third World tourism, but also in working toward ‘pro-poor’ solutions. (p. 39).
Urban tourism is generally considered more than benign and
actually helpful. The more tourists come the more is invested in cleaning up
the communities and making them greener and more healthy. Idea sharing goes in two directions, with
tourists bringing new technologies and insights from their travels, while local
people provide ingenuity born from problem solving necessity (the mother of
invention) and deep understanding of how
to implement solutions that will meet the needs of their community and will
actually stick, and in the case of the Zaballeen, truly opened the visitors
eyes to effective solutions, like home made solar hot water and biogas systems,
that the tourists had never seen but could now take home and lobby for in their
own countries. If there is any downside
at all to urban tourism it is the threat of gentrification once the
impoverished neighborhood becomes more attractive, as we see happening in many
of the favela areas of Brazil where I have worked.
Educational tourism is the last of the alternative forms of tourism talked about in the book that I have extensive direct experience with. Like backpacking tourism, student travelers tend to have relatively small numbers and low daily per capita expenditures, but these financial disadvantages are offset ‘by the length of time they spend in the location”. Weaver (p. 50) tells us that in Australia while international students make up only 3 percent of all stay overs, they account for 20 percent of all stayover expenditures.” Because their tourism is tied to long term educational goals, they are a stable source of visitors even at times of unrest, and they tend to act as “tourism magnets” through their extensive social networking, inspiring others to visit the locations and attractions they saw during their stay, whether those others are fellow students or not. And they tend to be repeat visitors. Every year I run a service learning class overseas, either in the Caribbean or in Israel and Palestine, and each year I have students who graduated making return trips to the country to see more and do more. Educational tourists, according to Weaver, have an amplified and disproportionate economic impact, and as with voluntourism, few can criticize the benefits of visitors who are simultaneously consuming and producing knowledge and deepening and enriching it through focused study and the open mind and attitude that educational institutions demand.
Educational tourism is the last of the alternative forms of tourism talked about in the book that I have extensive direct experience with. Like backpacking tourism, student travelers tend to have relatively small numbers and low daily per capita expenditures, but these financial disadvantages are offset ‘by the length of time they spend in the location”. Weaver (p. 50) tells us that in Australia while international students make up only 3 percent of all stay overs, they account for 20 percent of all stayover expenditures.” Because their tourism is tied to long term educational goals, they are a stable source of visitors even at times of unrest, and they tend to act as “tourism magnets” through their extensive social networking, inspiring others to visit the locations and attractions they saw during their stay, whether those others are fellow students or not. And they tend to be repeat visitors. Every year I run a service learning class overseas, either in the Caribbean or in Israel and Palestine, and each year I have students who graduated making return trips to the country to see more and do more. Educational tourists, according to Weaver, have an amplified and disproportionate economic impact, and as with voluntourism, few can criticize the benefits of visitors who are simultaneously consuming and producing knowledge and deepening and enriching it through focused study and the open mind and attitude that educational institutions demand.
A typology of alternative tourism is shown in figure 3.1 on
page 40 in the book, and Table 3.1 exhibits a table of “unsustainable mass
tourism and deliberate alternative tourism ideal types.” Of course these are ideals, and reality never
conforms to our dreams of an ideal world.
Using the knowledge based platform we must be aware of
potential problems, and as Weaver states on p. 51, we should discourage “value
judgements based on the scale of tourism alone”. We should challenge “claims to
the moral high ground” and be aware of the limitations of scale that the “small
is beautiful” approach of many proponents tend to ignore, and of the
possibilities for elitism and ecoimperialism (i.e. having tourists affect a
space to create an image of what they believe a community should be rather than
what it really is or wants to be), and beware of alternative tourists despite
the best of intentions, patronizing the local residents, causing community
disruption and fostering internal conflict or intrusively affecting the culture
and its traditional social relationships with casual liaisons and relationships
, especially when sexual activity and drugs are involved. However, by and large, these same threats are
also present, in fact HYPER PRESENT with mass tourism, so on balance
alternative tourism can act as a countervailing force for all the negatives
that come from moving a huge number of consumers from one region, usually a
richer region, to another.
So wherever we see
problems emerging, from large or small scale operations, it is our job to find another way to do
things that is better, that is more sustainable. And after all, that is what alternative
tourism should be: An alternative.
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