But I think there are also some practical reasons to feel annoyed at tourists (or travelers, whatever) from time to time — people visiting a country aren’t as likely to notice when a cab driver is taking the long route to run the meter up or when a restaurant has snuck a few unordered extras onto the bill. They’re generally willing to pay higher than normal prices since it still seems cheap when converted to their currency and may not know what kinds of behavior is culturally uncool or give Westerners a bad reputation. I feel OK saying this because I know I can be the same way when I’m traveling. But when you live somewhere day in and day out, earning local wages and trying to make a life, it can grate when you feel like you can’t avoid some negative treatment because of the way foreigners before you have acted in the country.

It’s a minority of bad travelers and people who take advantage of them, of course, and this certainly doesn’t shape the bulk of my experience in Turkey, which I love. Just thought I’d throw it out there to add to the interesting discussion you’ve sparked with your well-written and thought-provoking essay.

Funny enough, spicy food, dark beer, and new places to run are three of the things I’m always looking for too — unfortunately all in pretty short supply here in Istanbul!

I have nothing to add, other than to agree with Eva that this line made me laugh out loud: “You can jump a few rungs in the hierarchy by virtue of participation in revolutionary politics or marriage to a local.” Also agree about the importance of the ‘cathedral moment’ – and that it’s often through watching the ‘tourists’ that we are reminded of where we actually are.

Great stuff, thanks!

Thanks for writing words I’m sure so many people, myself included, have had difficulty conveying in the past.

A number of years back in Mexico, where I still spend a few months every winter, one of the expats there was growing marijuana in his yard. The locals are very tolerant of us and really didn’t care about this. One day, however, his neighbor’s pigs wandered into his garden and destroyed his crop. He became indignant and made all kind of threats, revealing a very ugly side to his neighbors who happen to be his landlord. A few days later the federales showed up and carted him off to prison where he languised for years. No amount of “mordidas” would get him out.

As a lifestyle traveler, I always see myself as a guest, no matter which country I am living in. This has served me very well, indeed.