IMHO

The Touristing Traveler

Breakfast came in a brown paper wrapper, as pleasantly warm as the smile of the elderly man who came knocking on my hotel room door at such an unholy hour. Or so I thought; it was actually already 8:00 in the morning, a fact that could be attested to only by my trusty timepiece, considering that the lack of any windows in the room or its vicinity ensured pitch darkness once the lights were switched off.

The lack of windows was the least of my travel companions’ many complaints: the rooms were too cramped, not to mention the bathrooms – which were technically toilets with a shower, just like those little cubicles in a cruise ship’s cabin. The walls were too thin, the location too far removed from the city center, the surrounding establishments suspiciously a little too seedy, especially after dusk. And, horror of horrors, breakfast was not the huge buffet they were accustomed to, but instead a sorry (but extremely delectable) package of steaming fried Hokkien mee with a side of sambal belacan and a carton of commercial orange juice. For this particular vacation, accomodations were far from opulent, a situation initially decried – albeit a little more goodnaturedly than I expected – at every other opportunity. Then again, things could not be helped: the booking had been made at the very last minute, just when there was a huge food and beverage summit in town, and we were extremely lucky to get accomodations at all. Even if they happened to be in the remote East Coast area. And so my traveling companions, who take far fewer trips than I do in any given year and holiday even more infrequently, laudably bore the incommodities in high spirits.

The last international trip I took with my family was to Hong Kong, right before the hand-over in 1997. Scratch that - I think it was in fact the Bangkok excursion in 1999 to visit the Thai branch of the family, but that time around it was an all-girl excursion. After that, I took on more countries, continents, and the rest of the Philippines and the world mostly on my own or in the company of my peers. But never again with family members. Being around people one dearly loves, in alien surroundings, is one of the most stressful scenarios imaginable. Familiarity truly breeds contempt, especially in foreign climes, and especially with family members – mainly because you’re bound together permanently by bloodline and therefore have the license to violently feud with each other any time, at any place, without fear of major estrangement. Which is why I begged off from the last family trip to Shenzhen, China (to which I’d already been with my friends Neil and Jules), two years ago, and declined to join my parents’ US coast-to-coast adventure last year.

But this year, since my little sister was on a rare vacation from her medical fellowship in the US, I was “mandated” to keep her – and the parents – company on a short out-of-the-country trip. Not that I had to be hogtied and tortured to go, because, after all, wanderlust will jump at the slightest opportunity to explore unfamiliar territories (which is why some of us are aptly called “wandersluts”). I thrilled at the thought of Beijing and Shanghai – the original travel itinerary – and even did my research, learned some Mandarin, secured a Chinese visa. But, zaogao! Honorable travel agent made booboo and botched up China plans, constraining family to take other less desirable course.

Which is how I found myself in the colorful Peranakan district on the East Coast of Singapore. Except for a transit through Changi Airport en route to Kuala Lumpur a few years back, I’d never been to Sing – never really was inclined to go. The funny thing is that my friend CC was very recently talking about visiting Singapore and actually considering moving there, but I didn’t think for a moment that I would ever go. But there I was. On eek! – for shame – a package tour.

Now don’t get me wrong. Package tours are da bomb. Cheap airfare, cheap board and lodging, free airport transfers and breakfast – those things rock. But I’ve never quite fit into the tourist mold, and I think I will never, ever again be one of those stickered group excursionists hanging on to every word out that comes out of the tour guide’s mouth. I suppose it’s because I don’t find it very pleasant to travel in a herd – I’ve found that you miss out on a lot of the most important things that await to be seen and experienced. Independent travel is more of my bag: you get to linger at your own pace, explore hidden nooks and crannies, interact with the locals and your fellow travelers on a different level. And yet, on this Singapore trip, after so many years of independent backpacking and traveling all around the world, I found myself at the mercy of the dynamics that make up a package tour, compulsory “city tour” and all. Shudder.

One of the things I abhor – nay, the thing I MOST ABHOR, about tours like this is that there will always, ALWAYS be one person in the group who will annoy the very last ounce of patience out of you. In a matter of half a morning. She/he is overly loquacious, making unwelcome comments and know-it-all remarks, and just being downright irritating. This trip was no different – I wanted to chuck the annoyance into the Singapore River every time she opened her very undiplomatic, politically incorrect, nonsensical mouth. Grrrr. She made me ashamed to be a Filipino.

These are the things about touring that I find difficult to abide. Then again, I am blessed with the opportunity to travel more than the average person, and to make a living out of it - whereas most tourists are hardworking people who need breaks from the world and deserve a little more pampering than what they’re normally used to. The average tourist pays top dollar to enjoy and be entertained – to engage in diversions that will temporarily distract one from the humdrum worries and cares of every day. While the traveler curiously attempts to scratch through the surface and acculturate himself to the local lifestyle, the tourist is, for the most part, just passing through, trying to hedonistically squeeze the best sensations out of a once-in-a-lifetime experience, patronizing theme parks and engaging in “I-was-there” photo-ops. The tourist stays on the beaten track and tries to check off the must-sees, must-dos and must-eats on the guidebook list; the traveler wanders far off the track to create entirely new experiences that he may or may not want to recommend.

“Touristing” can be a pleasant thing, to some extent – especially because of its convenience and comforts. But “traveling,” or how I define it at least, brings a lot more satisfaction – to me, at least – because it tests character, independence, and introduces, in a very real sense, a lot more adventure into one’s life. Except for the one and a half hour that I had to myself exploring Joo Chiat and its architectural and cultural marvels, I didn’t play my usual role as traveler on this particular expedition, something that’s left quite an amount of frustration in my system. Then again, Singapore is but a JetStar/Tiger Air flight away, and, without the benefit of a booked tour or confirmed hotel accomodations, is just another travel adventure waiting to happen. But first, there’s the matter of an unused Chinese visa that needs to be addressed…

posted by Honey Oliveros @ 10:11 PM