Chef and I pulled in late last night from our post-nuptial vacation (not honeymoon) bleary-eyed and suffering from major sinus infections. It figures I would get sick during the biggest trip of my life, but nevertheless we had an awesome time with lots of stories that, to my surprise, bear anecdotal political import. Thanks to the generosity of our parents who, seeing that they wouldn’t have to foot the bill for a ginormous wedding affair, donated money, lodging, and plane tickets, we were able to vacation in St. Thomas of the U.S. Virgin Islands, right up the road from Magen’s Bay.
For those not familiar with the history of the island, St. Thomas is one of those beautiful if cursed places on earth where the native people were killed off by European explorers and replaced with hundreds of slaves from Africa so that white people could grow a little sugar for their tea. During the sugar cane period, St. Thomas was one of the central locations for the African slave trade and some of the largest slave auctions were held there. Once the sugar industry died down, the islands were economically unviable and the mostly black inhabitants were left to rot without the means to start 21st century industry until the U.S. bought the land under fears that it might turn into a WWI German sub base.
Years later, the U.S. in her great wisdom discovered that partnering with cruise ships and other tourism industries could bring in lots of money to the island, populated the downtown area with diamond boutiques (diamonds mined in Africa) catering to rich white people, but because the tourists were scared of the dire poverty, and because many of the islanders were put off by their island overrun with rude tourists (I can’t tell you how many times we were embarrassed by the behavior of our fellow tourists), many of the service positions on the island are now filled by adventure-seeking white folks who moved from the states to see a little beach action.
[This is a very brief interpretation of some of the historical material I've read paired with some of the interactions we experienced, and others are welcome to chime in should I have something wrong.]
But here’s the thing. I wish I had a picture of this. In Charlotte Amalie, the “big city” portion of the island, the rich-poor divide is slapped right up against one another. Driving down the strip, the biggest shopping center meant to cater to the cruise shippers, packed full of diamond shops and designer clothes, is separated by fence from the projects (aka, cooperative housing) (Chef and I were almost mugged a block from there, another story). In the main historical drag of town, another multiple city blocks are dedicated to additional diamond and duty-free and designer clothing stores, and immediately behind them you can find scads of unemployed young black men sitting on upended buckets, watching the tourists drive by in their rental cars.
Was it a bad trip? God, no. Despite some of the darker aspects to the historical atmosphere we met some cool people, saw a lot of interesting wildlife, took in some great music and food, and dozed on one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. But nevertheless this trip exposed some of the uncomfortable aspects of being a tourist in the American Caribbean, and raised a lot of ethical questions for me on how one conducts oneself as an outsider in an exploitative environment.
I have many pictures and stories to share once I bathe in Dayquil and Mucinex. Until then.
Welcome home! Now you can enjoy what should be a change-of-seasons cold in a (hopefully brief) return of 90-degree Indiana monsoon season.
Tourism is a hard thing to square, I think, for the reasons you describe. Especially being a person with not that much money, I’m always aware of the privilege of travel, and always shocked at those folks who aren’t at all aware of that privilege, or worse, abuse it. Anyway, I look forward to more tales (and pictures)!
Uh yeah, WTF is going on with the 90 degree weather here?
Sina, I hear you on this one. This is why I bristle at the oft-cited statistic of how few Americans hold a passport. I understand it’s meant to show that there’s a certain insularity in American culture, but I like to point out that travel, even inside the United States, is a luxury and that many Americans have neither the time or the money to do much traveling, especially off of the continent.
I grew up in a working-class family, and while we were not poor by any means, there wasn’t a whole lot of money around for foreign travel. I was interested in some study abroad programs in college, but I couldn’t pay for them myself, and my father flat out refused to kick in, because he’d heard that they were a ripoff.
Since graduation, I’ve never made enough money to go outside of North America and I’m often envious of those who have had those opportunities.
Speaking of passports, check this out. Even though the USVIs are considered US territory, they started requiring passports for stateside reentry this past Monday. The day we arrived: Sunday. Nobody thought to mention anything about perhaps needing a passport to us. We were really concerned going through customs yesterday, but we ended up not having a problem. The reason we chose USVIs as opposed to Mexico or the BVIs was the passport issue — can’t afford them, didn’t have time.
I understand it’s meant to show that there’s a certain insularity in American culture, but I like to point out that travel, even inside the United States, is a luxury and that many Americans have neither the time or the money to do much traveling, especially off of the continent.
Word. Our folks got us there, but once we were there we didn’t have much in the way of spending money outside of food and the occasional taxi. Again, we had a blast, but parts of the trip were just hard, making it without maps, money, or the slightest knowledge of where we were going or how we could stretch our funds. We’ve talked a little bit about trying to take another trip in the future, drive somewhere, maybe camping or something, but the truth is the lost income and vacation expenditures (not to mention gas prices) are truly difficult. It would take us several years to save for that barring any unexpected financial emergencies (fat chance).
I love watching travel programs, but when I see the main character asking folks in Bogota whether it’s safe to travel around the city, and all of those folks are like German and Australian backpacker kids trading travel war stories or talking about how cool the Indians are and how good the scuba diving is, I want to puke. And then I want to go to Bogota and see the pretty buildings. It sucks.
Yeah, I’m expecting tornadoes or something next. Here in Chicago we don’t get tornadoes; instead we get “microbursts,” a weather phenomenon that I’m almost certain Tom Skilling made up. I’m sure it’ll be back in the 50’s by tomorrow or whatever.
Thank you for sharing your trip with the rest of us.
At some stage, I should write a post about Denmark’s not-so-glorious past regarding slave trade, in which the US Virgin Islands feature prominently (for those unaware of this, the US bought the islands from Denmark in 1917).
Yeah, you’re back! Glad to hear you guys had a good trip …despite some setbacks.
For those not familiar with the history of the island, St. Thomas is one of those beautiful if cursed places on earth where the native people were killed off by European explorers and replaced with hundreds of slaves from Africa so that white people could grow a little sugar for their tea.
Actually, much of the sugar they grew was used to make molasses, which was used to make rum. And New England, in particular Connecticut, Rhode Island and Boston, played big roles in moving the rum. IIRC, Brown University recently did a big reckoning of how much slave-trade money was used to found the university, and how many of the university’s founders were neck-deep in the slave trade through their rum and molasses businesses.
Glad you’re back! I’ve never really done much traveling in the Caribbean, though I visited a friend who lives in Bermuda, what, 9 years ago now? Yikes. Bermuda doesn’t seem to have quite the rich/poor divide that many of the islands in the Caribbean do, thankfully, but they seem pretty proactive about preserving jobs for Bermudians rather than expats, with the result that the only expats are pretty much high-level insurance executives and their families.