A tourist in your own town

I’ve been asked to expand on being a tourist vs. being a foreigner who lives in Vietnam. For starters, I do not consider myself a tourist in Saigon. I live in Saigon temporarily, ergo I am automatically not a tourist. I have activities, hobbies, local friends, co-workers and a routine that doesn’t come with being a tourist. When I take my weekend trips, only then will I admit to being a full-fledged tourist.

Tourists are scattered and don’t have to go to work the next morning. Tourists may not have local friends. Tourists may not know their way around the city. And so on. But some tourists might have a connection with a country; perhaps their family emigrated from there and they are just visiting relatives. Some tourists have international friends, or have been to the city numerous times.

I’m not afraid of being a tourist either. A “responsible” tourist. So maybe that makes me a “traveler” instead of a “tourist”? I try to be mindful of my actions and am willing to try new things. Sometimes tourists visit other countries only to hang out with their own kind. There is no communication with the local culture. No culture shock except “Oh, this tour guide has an accent” or “Oh, this road is not paved”. And so it goes.

I remember the first time I went to Cayo Coco. It was the biggest disappointment ever, and also the worst vacation ever despite it being a really sweet present from my boyfriend. While I was there I couldn’t help but think, “Wow, this is NOT Cuba”. It could have been anywhere in the world!!! It’s a large resort – homogenous, internationally owned, and let’s not forget the swimming pool (UGH). I’ve been to other resorts and had never felt so disconnected from a country in my life. But this is what a cheap budget vacation entails for a lot of people. This disconnected feeling. It’s easy to become a tourist oblivious to your surroundings. You’re just there for a vacation. It doesn’t matter what other people’s living conditions are, or does it?

Locals might look at me as a tourist, and others might see me as an “expat”. Maybe it depends on what I am wearing, or how I carry myself, or my confidence about navigating through District 1, my neighbourhood. It’s only 3 months that I am spending here; I might as well get used to it. Tourists don’t spend 3 months in a country; they might spend 3 days, or 3 weeks. I came here with a purpose, as I do with all of my independent travels.

Even when I talk to my roommates, it’s like they know that I am here temporarily, but would they outright call me a tourist or a traveler? Would they have a problem warming up to me because I am so short-term? My roommate Vy puts it well: “People come and go. You just get used to it”. They know I will go back “home” soon, but they are still awesome and amazing enough to count me in their lives for the time that I am here. It’s a little discouraging sometimes because Vietnam is known to have many short-term Western expats living within its borders. They work, maybe teach English, make friends, booze out, travel Southeast Asia, and then go back home. It sounds a little betraying, right? It’s almost like nobody is guaranteed to stay here unless they truly love it and can tolerate the madness of the city. So I guess it comes down to tolerance.

It’s really important to keep in touch with the friends you make. It makes things a little less painful. Plus, you’ll be able to visit them and they’ll hopefully visit you. Long-distance relationships are tough but rewarding like that. I know the heartache of having to leave a place and people that I love. I know what it’s like to desire living in another country yet being away from all of your closest friends. My heart hurts when I think about Malmö, Sweden – I wish I could go back all the time or yet, I wish I could bring it to Toronto.

Or maybe I’m just meant to be a traveler for the rest of my life. I’ll be the one who always leaves but is never left.