Gentrifier vacation

Hola! As you can see from my Spanish fluency, I am writing to you from beautiful San Juan, Puerto Rico. Meera and I are here celebrating our anniversary on Tuesday. This is my first time south of Miami, and I am loving it. If you have not been, put that American citizenship to good use and enjoy the killer food, breathtaking beaches, and kind people. For this installment, I want to use my experience in Puerto Rico as a case study for the complexities of rich people travel. I mean rich in the global scheme, so that includes your Aunt Diane and Uncle Jim who live in a small suburban house but love a Disney cruise.

Here are some Puerto Rico facts I learned from a boat tour:

Aside from its natural beauty, bumpin’ music, and strong cultural pride, Puerto Rico’s complicated history with oppression continues to this day. Puerto Ricans cannot vote in federal elections. The economy is bad, and expensive import rates hit ordinary people in taxes. Hurricane Maria’s aftermath is still very visible, with plenty of destroyed homes “standing” five years after the devastation. Infrastructure is poor: public transportation is limited, potholes are everywhere, plenty of traffic lights do not work, and most intersections do not have crosswalks.

Despite not needing a passport for my flight and paying with dollars at restaurants, I keep forgetting that I am still in America. I have not seen an American flag outside of the airport. Online research told me it’s easy to get by with just English, but — maybe I’m just sOoOo good at picking local spots — I have used my minimal Spanish much more often (or maybe my Hola just sounds sOoOo natural).

Arguments for Puerto Rican statehood, full independence, and remaining a colony are ones I have not thought deeply about beyond reading news updates until now (just know that the majority of Puerto Ricans support statehood). My history classes in school did not give Puerto Rico the same attention as the majority of other states. From my gringa perspective, Puerto Rico has much more similarities with other Caribbean islands than the 50 states. I was about to say that federal aid would not let so many buildings stateside stay empty after a hurricane but then remembered that New Orleans exists. Looks like we have the U.S. government disappointing us in common, but the degree is much more acute over here.

My travel outside of the mainland U.S. has been to rich places in Europe. Going to a poorer place provides its own set of celebrations and challenges. Places like Puerto Rico where tourism is so massive create a dichotomy of most vacationers spending money on tranquility while speaking to service workers who are being priced out of their homes by those same types of tourists who have so much fun they buy property.

Gentrifiers just can’t stay home. We go to these beautiful places and swallow them whole, keeping the best views of the beach for our hotels and usually coming unequipped with cultural knowledge. I already hate being a burden on waitstaff in the U.S., and now I’m burdensome by default if I have to ask if they habla Inglés.

I’m going to group vacationers into two broad groups: relaxers and immersers. Relaxers go on vacation to use as little energy as possible. Their prime trip takes place at a sprawling resort that meets all of their needs. If they choose to venture outside of the hotel grounds, it is through an often resort-affiliated excursion with fellow relaxers and a tour guide. I am an immerser, someone who packs their schedule with a plethora of activities in hopes of experiencing the essence of wherever they are invading. Immersers seek experiences with as few tourists as possible, even though they, too, are tourists, and are willing to use as much if not more energy as they do in their normal lives. The best vacationers are a mix of both, and I am not sure if they exist in real life.

Relaxers come to consume. They surround themselves with like-minded vacationers and service workers with infinite patience. They accommodate no one but their partner begging for a romantic dinner. The version they absorb of local culture is sanitized and artificial. Should you really vacation if you will stay ignorant of the area’s culture? My first instinct is always that a trip to another culture’s homeland should involve some discomfort, and people unwilling to confront their ignorance should not travel; however, a question comes to mind: should these people really be released out into the wild? Also, a vacation is supposed to be fun. The horrors of capitalism have some people waiting all year for vacation and a chance to just do nothing. Maybe it’s better to keep the lazy or tired in a pen with all of the others. Karens would throw fits and raise hell for random people. At least those working at these resorts know what to expect and can shield others from having to deal with the unruly brand of relaxers.

Immersers have great intentions. They take proper transit to explore the area, learning public transit systems or renting a car. They learn a few words in the native language in hopes of successfully ordering street food. Despite their best efforts, they fumble and embarrass themselves with locals left to pick up their pieces. Many stay in Airbnbs due to budgetary constraints or to encourage immersion, even though these units could instead house someone who actually lives in the area. Immersers are frantic in the train station when they aren’t sure which line to hop on. They may know how to say that they would like a sandwich, but can they understand their cashier quickly asking a follow-up question? Their confusion can paralyze them. I went to the airport bathroom and could not find a way to flush the toilet, so I told the girl going into the stall after that the toilet had no way of flushing. Turns out, there was something to push under the toilet (who knew?), so this poor girl had to piss upon my piss. What are the limits of service, and should service workers need to accommodate clueless travelers outside of designated touristy places? Do random bystanders have a responsibility to show hospitality when a tourist is slowing down their routines?

And so lies the paradox with touristy places: tourism boosts the local economy but tourists disrupt the area’s inherent culture. Is there a way to ethically vacation, especially in a place riddled with economic problems? Is there a benefit to me being in Puerto Rico despite walking by graffiti that reads Gringos go home?

Even though tourists can be vampires, telling people to not leave where they’re from is both unreasonable and harmful. Most people are not going to be an Emerson and answer life’s questions at home. Travel expands your worldview, increases empathy, and encourages gratitude. If you can and want to travel, you should. It’s just unfortunate when the people who actually live in the places you’re choosing cannot afford to take a similar type of trip.

Everything can relate to gentrification. In the same way you hope not to plague the neighborhood you move into, you cannot stop yourself from doing so. Travel is the same. You are going to be annoying simply because you are a tourist. All you can do is prepare as best as you can to counteract the damage you cause by being kind, open, and supportive. We cannot solve systemic problems as individuals but just be mindful of where we’re going and do our best to lead with compassion.

I return to New York later this week. My trip has actually helped me better understand New York, as Puerto Rican immigrants are key to the city’s culture. I am so thankful both where I live and where I am visiting blast reggaeton from the car.

"how do u find a job that pays?? with minimal experience lol”

— Employment $ucks

Yay! I get to give career advice this week! Obviously, to do any job you need to have some sort of experience. If you have minimal experience in your desired field, hopefully, you have auxiliary abilities from other gigs that can serve as transferrable skills, a concept I constantly mentioned during interviews while switching out of journalism.

I cannot tell you the exact industries that would work for you. Plus, some companies pay more for certain positions than other workplaces do. For example, entry-level marketers at big agencies do not tend to make a lot of money, but that number could easily flip for an in-house gig at a company looking to revamp its marketing strategies. Good luck!

Want advice from someone as unqualified but possibly more confident than you? Send in a question for Olympic Coaching.