On Localism

In Catalan, the native tongue of Barcelona, the word for foreigner is the strikingly similar to the English word "stranger": estranger. When I walked down the street of my apartment on Calle Balmes, pierced and dredlocked locals said in mocked English, "Hello, Barbie" and kissed at me in public. At the supermarket, clerks responded in Catalan to my Castellano, or simply spoke to me in broken English. No matter how dirty my shoes or how tattered my jeans, my lack of facial piercings or olive skin made me stick out like a sore thumb. Not until I cut my hair pixie short (making me look Swede rather than American) did everyday people actually treat me with kind interest.

On the mean city streets of D.C. by my job where I was one of very few white employees, a black man stared as I walked by, uttering a cool, "Dang, hey, gorgeous" under his breath. Inside the Court building, visitors concealed their feelings less. While walking files to the courtroom, sometimes a blunt,"Nice body, baby" or a "You see her shake that thang?" might sound in the background as I explained the judge's procedure to a client. Upstairs, my coworkers remembered I was around when one hushed the conversation they were having about white people. I was always the last to hear the news about anything, be it the gossip about somebody's girlfriend or a new policy the boss enacted but hadn't bothered to meet about. When a new white girl came well into my appointment (nine months), my coworkers began mixing up our names. Though superficially polite, the attitude among the women was general avoidance of the white girls. On the greatest days, I never fit in unawkwardly.

In Hawaii, it's clear to see the difference between tourists and locals. Whites are given the name of "haoles." Talk of irritating driving habits of rental cars cloud the air, none of which I can call untrue. There are rumors of car windows smashed at local-claimed beaches to warn off intruders. To me, the delicate spirit of aloha seems plagued with negativity toward those undeserving of it. Those undeserving would be anyone trying to buy it. Driving myself around in a local car but with foreign gestures and mainland talk, I can't yet tell what locals think of me. At the gas station, a good-looking Hawaiian guy waved at me. I was confused whether he was being nice or trying to tell me to move my car. At this point, it's too soon to tell where I fall on the haole spectrum. I'm definitely not trying to pretend I'm a local but I'm definitely not trying to look like a geeky tourist either.

Encountering localism only takes the opening of one's eyes outside of normal tourism. It takes noticing your waitress's longing stare on her smoke break that can't wait to get home to her kids. Also, it takes respecting the place which you are visiting as a site where people like you live, buy property, commute, work, elect officials, and rest. The key to adapting to local culture is noticing what locals do and trying your best not to disrupt their doing it. A wanderlust like myself might notice that every place has its quirks, and it takes being a bit of a cameleon to wander smoothly from one place to the next. The most important trick to adapting might be only taking the most peaceful traits of each place with you so that you can jive on with the next. For example, no one in Spain wants to hear about how much you love President Bush just as no one in Hawaii wants get to know you by your Washington, D.C. resume.

I don't disagree with localism. While some critics may see it as a form of racism, I view it as a preservation technique in areas where rich culture tries to invade. Like modern-day colonialists, tourists and out-of-towner transplants can disrupt local culture by trying to take their own piece of it. The balance of visiting or moving remains delicate, and a large dose of local respect is the best way to not demolish the tender environment that already exists.

Locals can be the very best viewpoint into a culture but gaining their trust can be difficult. While traveling, always be respectful of the locals' way of life but preserve your own customs as well. Perhaps the biggest traveling faux pas is acting like you fit in when you really don't. Be yourself, don't try to be a local yourself. By being a watchful observer, you may learn quite a bit from the locals.

Although you may not receive a glowing welcome from territorial locals, by following this advice you may earn the eventual trust of someone willing to teach you something. As long as you're cool first, usually, they don't bite.