The one about travel and leisure

Monday morning I got an article in my inbox sent lovingly by my mother, sent to her by someone who knew I live in Panama. I like that, finding common connections, thanks Mom and thanks person who sent this to her while thinking of me. In the article, published in “Travel + Leisure: Best Places to Travel in 2016,” Here’s what it says:

“The Isthmus of Panama is home to some of the purest natural beauty in Latin America: dense tropical rain forests, wide savannas, coral reefs bursting with aquatic life, and delightfully deserted beaches. The latest idyllic spot to emerge on travelers’ lists is Bocas del Toro, an archipelago made up of nine islands and hundreds of cays and islets. In the country’s northeastern corner—a one-hour flight from either Panama City or San José, Costa Rica—it’s a sanctuary where the main mode of transportation is a wooden motorboat, dolphins swim through crystalline waters, and dockside restaurants serve the local fishermen’s catch of the day. Its remoteness and simplicity have made it a favorite among backpackers, surfers, and adventurers. Bocas Town, the archipelago’s main village, is equal parts rickety and charming, with tin-roofed wooden houses converted into colorful boutiques, guesthouses, and restaurants—head to Ultimo Refugio for the best food in town, an open-air sport famous for its lobster risotto and sesame-crusted tuna. And while Bocas isn’t losing its ruggedness anytime soon, a new hotel is likely to redefine tourism there. Sarani Resort, scheduled to open this summer, will bring unprecedented style to the area. The 35 hardwood bungalows, on 75 acres, were designed with the quiet mood of a Balinese resort in mind. There will be an infinity pool, an outdoor bar crafted from old wooden boats, and a restaurant serving organic Caribbean food. “Bocas evokes this sense of calm, Peter Debs, who is overseeing the development, says. “You’re surrounded by untouched mangrove islets, you hear the slapping of the waves, and see people catching lobsters from hand-carved canoes. I’m glad it hasn’t become a Cancún. Here it’s all about the salt water and the forest.” —Paola Singer

Yes, this is where I live and yes, it is as amazing as it sounds. But it’s not the travel writing, romanticized view of paradise that you’re imagining from reading Paola’s words. Just from reading this, I myself want to hop on a plane and go in search of this whimsically magical set of glorious islets that invokes a nostalgically beautiful emotion in me. I’d book a ticket to that place. That’s some damn good travel writing. But that’s not what this Bocas del Toro is.

There are struggles here. People don’t necessarily like that they have to lobster catch in a hand-dug canoe in the middle of the (often turbulent) ocean to appease the dietary wants of seafood-seeking tourists. And the article disregards the boat drivers who operate these seemingly effortless gliding “wooden motorboats” and pay an arm and a leg for the upkeep when their motors break down with a frequency you can only expect from an overused, under cared-for motor sitting in salt water lugging tourists around from island to island. But they’re not complaining, we aren’t complaining, I promise. Locals know they make money from tourists but they don’t seem to understand why people come in search of this place specifically because to them, it’s always ever been home.

Since when did we, as tourists from the developed world, decide to eat up this idea of “untouched mangrove islets” as the idea of a perfect vacation? Since when do we feel okay ignoring the fact that in our search for an escape from our overly busy and productive lives, we get to ignore the real struggles of locals who’ve called the place home for hundreds of years. Because the article seems to espouse or underscore the idea that in our search for this “untouched paradise”, it’s okay to completely negate the fact that actual people have lived here, and that they have been touching the land for thousands of years. (I recognize that this question could lead us down a rabbit hold of manifest destiny, but we all know how that goes, so in this post I’ll refrain from exploring that idea further). This is how I envision the negotiation of building a resort on Isla Pastor went:

White Man With Money and Big Ideas: Peter, you’re back! How’d the surveying trip down to Panama go?  

Peter: Well, sir, it was great! We found this island, it’s tucked enough away from the mainland so you don’t have to see the dirty port town neighbors where locals shit over the water and put trash in the ocean. But it’s close enough to the airport in Bocas Town so that locals will feel like their getting the authentic remote experience when we pick them up with a coconut drink in hand and then they still have to they take a boat 15 minutes get to our resort. It’s deceptively remote, sir, just like what you asked for (rubs chin pensively with hand while looking longingly out the window).  

WMWMABI: Great job Peter! Just make sure it evokes the idea of serenity and tranquility that white people are going ape shit for these days.

Peter: I hear you sir, my only question is: there are a few local communities right where we want to build. Does it matter if we have to knock down hundreds of local dwellings to do what we want out there? Or that we’ll be bringing in electricity to the island that hasn’t ever had it, thereby catapulting them into the 21^st century without providing education or other incentives for our existence there?

WMWMABI: No, they’ll be fine. Oh and make sure the restaurant/bar is made out of something local.

Peter: But sir, what if the only wood I can find is these canoes that they paddle around on?

WMWMABI: Well, Peter, then buy that off them - white people eat that “local” shit UP! Oh, let’s make sure we call the restaurant “organic” too.

Peter: Yes sir. Then I’ll call up Travel + Leisure so they can do a piece about it. Paola owes me one still for that time she wrote a shitty review of our Balinese Bungalows in rural Cambodia. She doesn’t even know how much money that cost us.

WMWMABI: Great idea, now back to work.

It’s happened before. It’ll happen again. Does this resort deserve a place in Bocas del Toro? Sure. But I know this island and I’m not so sure the developers thought about the locals they will be displacing, if not physically, at least in that they will bring money to the island that locals have never seen or experienced before. The community dynamics will change. Those locals who are not lucky enough to find a position on their staff on construction, in the kitchen or as cleaners will be relegated to bottom of the totem pole. I can assure you that the communities in Isla Pastor had a system before this place was build and now they will have to completely re-write that system. The local community on Isla Pastor will stratify. I’ve seen the exact same story with the Red Frog Island Resort on Bastimentos Island and a new $400/night ecolodge in the community of Loma Partida.

That said, there are many businesses here in the tourism industry that do hire and treat locals fairly, providing a living wage and creating a solid way of life for so many people here. Locals ride their bikes on “rugged” dirt roads to make it to work, spend the day at these pristine resorts waiting on tourists who wash their hands in the filtered rainwater taps and leave their shift in a hotel with hot water and wifi to go home to a wooden shack without electricity or potable water. And yet the words “rugged, pristine, hand-dug, organic” are somehow appealing and palpable to travelers. Those words come on the backs of locals who have had their lives uprooted for our “serenity.” Their struggle is our way to relax. But those locals who aren’t on the inside of the tourism industry really struggle. They watch their families separate because one child gets a job on the main island and another has to bake bread in their community to sell for twenty-five cents a bun. They have no electricity because no one has decided that their community is “good enough” to develop. They see communities across the bay reaping the benefits of benevolent enough tourists, but they can’t break in.

I’m not saying it isn’t wonderful place to visit or that we should give up our days of rest and relaxation. What I am saying, however, is that in our exploration of “rest and relaxation” we’ve come to prioritize places where we don’t have to think about the lives of locals we interact (or don’t) with. We can enjoy our “outdoor bar crafted from old wooden boats and a restaurant serving organic Caribbean food” without truly appreciating why we needed to leave where we came from. I hope we can come to see those “tin-roofed wooden houses converted into colorful boutiques, guesthouses, and restaurants” as a place where real people’s blood, sweat and tears have gone in to make your vacation world keep spinning. The charm of this place comes from the unique people you find in those lobster boats, the drivers of the wooden hand-carved boats, the owners of these restaurants. The charm of this place doesn’t come from a resort that has a “Bali style infinity pool” (though, that sure does sound amazing!), yet rather from the people that makes this place unique. The people we should honor as a resource and never a burden.

Nowhere is just as perfect as it seems in Travel + Leisure, but Bocas sure comes close.