Jamaica Kincaid's piece synthesized well my kind of white-and-western guilt on the subject of tourism to non-Western countries. A few of my friends went on a school-funded trip to Mexico (read: our school had the money for this) during our Junior year as part of our Spanish program. You had to write an essay and the like to prove you somehow warranted a plane ticket more than everyone else wanting a free trip for site-seeing, cultural and otherwise. They came back tan, of course, but some of them showed a little uneasiness with their old surroundings. The schools they had visited paled in comparison to ours, the neighborhoods totally different, and yet everyone there was totally happy and content, while us Northerners (or rather, Westerners) were missing our facebook and our tweets with the extreme wifi drought. Coming back to enjoy those same privileges just didn't seem right. They got over it. I went to the Bahamas for eight hours (maybe a few minutes less) and felt guilty. I got over it. I lied, no one got over it. You bury it in the back of your mind just like how we are all paying thousands of dollars to go to college to do something we might not even like and yet there are people within thirty miles of the university we all attend who very well struggle making ends meet to get food on the table. Perhaps our collective money would be better spent there. Both are investments, yes?
















