This episode in feelings: Surrounded by Tourists and Being Lumped In With Them

I’m sure every volunteer has this experience and today, I had mine. 

I’ve only been in Antigua for early morning transfers to the microbuses en route to the office. AM Antigua is tranquila, wonderful, coffee shops open and nada más. The fountain is peaceful; it’s a gift, not an attraction. Coffee in hand and on the micros I go, bumping in between the other paisanos on the way to training. 

But today, Amanda and I walked along the main road from Ciudad Vieja to Antigua. I think we were walking 40 minutes, maybe it was an hour. One camioneta ayudante asked us if we were going to Antigua. We declined. 

I needed to meet my project people for our YID practicum. It’s the final hurdle between me and swearing in. There are a lot of smaller things but this is the biggest one. We walked the 4era Calle to the Plaza and tourists teemed like bubbles in a cerveza. I instantly longed for calm, quiet 7am Antigua. Antigua for responsible patrons. 

This was el opuesto, a college kids dream. Bar after bar of overpriced beer and tall folk milling about. There’s nothing wrong with them except that I WAS BEING TREATED IN KIND. I am tall (compared to the average Guatemalan), I am cancha, I am walking dispassionately with my backpack and American tenis, but I am not, I REPEAT, I AM NOT A TOURIST. 

Children ran by with woven bracelets, purses, brightly colored memorabilia that says: “I Have Been to Guatemala, Marvel at My Adventures” to the people at home. They asked repeatedly if we wanted to buy. I want to say to them: If I bought a bracelet every time a person tried to sell it to me, I would be broker than I am. But I know they are doing their job.

Coming from a person who trained/bused/hosteled and walked through 11 countries in Europe on two separate trips, I have been a tourist on another continent (a lone tourist with headphones in, but nonetheless a tourist). It’s a role I played, it’s a role I no longer care to fulfill. But I’m still wearing the disfracé (costume). Two foreigners asked “Do you speak English?” I said yes and they asked me if I could break a $20. I almost detonsiled them. 

Here are the facts: I am a volunteer (in training). I am also a white lady in yoga pants walking around a tourist attraction with mint-colored gafas on. The yoga pants entirely supersedes the fact that I am also here for two years, (probably) living in el campo teaching charlas on sexual health and autoestima/self-esteem. So no, I don’t want to buy the cheap coin purse you’re selling. 

I grew more and more furious as I walked around the square in search for a tranquil bar. It reminded me of the lonely walks I traced in Europe, grump-faced and serious, emitting a “don’t fuck with me” vibe. No wonder so many people asked me for directions… I looked like I was on the daily grind. 

I even ran into two friends of my family in el parque, and they treated me like an undesirable drunk. They hardly wanted to say hello.. Her husband didn’t even speak to me, he just walked off. Of course I sound like I’m drunk, I’m trying to speak Spanish! I don’t know how to say stuff. But she ran off quickly and said: “Cuidate, ten cuidado!” I felt shame and I didn’t do a single thing wrong. She saw me in the square and assumed I had been drinking, or maybe she was in a hurry? Talking to me was not what she wanted to do. I hadn’t touched a beverage.

After walking around the plaza several times and looking for choco-bananos (I guess the tourists don’t like choco-bananos so no one sells them in the square) I bumped into a person wearing equal parts “I’m a local” and “Don’t Fuck with me” on their face. And I felt sad. I felt sad for me and him. We were both furious and both alone. Of course we didn’t want anyone to fuck with us, but in turn, no one was going to friend with us either. See what I did there? But truly, the saddest thing was that we were letting the frivolity and lightheartedness distort our reality and make us sad. 

Sigh. Acceptance and maturity required at this juncture. You can’t go to Rome and expect to share it with only locals.