The Tourist Vs. The Peace Corps Volunteer

There is something to be said about the way Peace Corps training has us (the PCTrainees) thinking about our image in-country.

We are told to dress professionally and according to what we see around us rather than don shorts, tank tops and sandals. Likewise, we are expected to glean pertinent information from our communities in order to integrate within our towns rather than stick out like a sore thumb. I didn’t realize though, how  pertinent these PC suggestions were until I visited a new location in Guatemala.

A few of my classmates and I were visiting a local treasure this past week when a woman, from Los Angeles I’m ashamed to say, was walking with her local guide. As she stepped into this local treasure, her Chanel glasses, bright orange tank top, and green cargo shorts immediately gave her away as a tourist.  But what caught my attention was not her bright plumage, or the fact that she seemed to direct this tour guide more like a slave driver than someone hoping to learn something about the culture she was visiting. No, it was something that she uttered from her botox-ridden lips, Oh my gosh, I can’t believe what these people are doing? What are we doing here?

[First of all, let me stop the story here. If you didn’t want to come, the door is right there. You can just as easily tell your guide to lead you to a new destination. Heck, you could probably (by the looks of your Coach bag) book a flight out tonight. But I digress…]

I continue watching this woman, puzzled by what some may call cultural insensitivity. She continues going further into this Guate treasure and is now standing merely feet away from locals with camera in hand. I bite my lip, hoping that what I’m thinking in my head will not happen; heck this woman was at least 50+ years old, she couldn’t be that insensitive. But no, she stands close, like a child looking into a fish bowl, and starts taking pictures (with flash) of what is happening before her. Sure some Americans, heck, most foreigners, might see what was going on in this plaza as something weird, but this Guatemalan treasure was meaningful to the people who were participating. This was not a marimba band or a group of dancers dancing, but something heavier--something that felt too sacred to photograph.

I, seeing myself as a part of this community now (despite being only in-country for three-ish weeks now), told the woman that maybe she could at least turn off the flash or hide the camera because this wasn’t a circus. What I got in return was a middle finger.

Sure, I could have retaliated or made a spectacle but I knew that I too, would be portraying an image of the U.S. that was worse than the reality. So Peace Corps, I thank you because even in this short time, I know you have trained me to see how I fit into this community rather than to see myself outside of it.