No, Wiseman
With the rise of overtourism (perhaps even accelerated by it), there is a growing desire for “authentic” experiences when traveling. Some of them are motivated by a sincere desire to learn about the culture, some of them are just a pursuit for bragging rights.
The travel industry has met this need with varying degrees of success. In part, this is because the very act of authentic packaging presents a paradox. How authentic is a tourist attraction designed for tourist consumption?
In my experience, “true” experiences can range from the creepy to the profound. And much of the latter happens when suppliers work with indigenous groups or people and then step back and allow local people to design and present the experience.
At the World Travel & Tourism Council’s Global Summit held in Perth, Australia earlier this month, indigenous cultures received a number of spotlights through keynotes, panels and performances. Australia is putting resources into indigenous tourism and seeing good results. As of June, visitor participation in Indigenous-focused activities had increased 135% year-on-year (119% compared to the same period in 2019).
I arrived in Perth a few days before the summit. Julie Earle-Levine, who heads the public relations firm of the same name, helped me organize several tours in partnership with Discover Aboriginal Experiences, organized by the tourism board.
Steve Jacobs walking around the Cape Peron Peninsula. Photo credit: Arnie Weissmann
The first was a guided walk around the Cape Peron peninsula, part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site Shark Bay, with Steve Jacobs of the Noongar tribe.
Although the view from the peninsula’s coast often includes industrial structures (the area has significant mining, agricultural storage, and processing facilities), Jacobs still saw beauty. The land was very important to his ancestors, and our walk became a journey through time as he talked about and demonstrated specific rituals of the 60,000-year-old culture. He pointed out that the landscapes we passed through were the result of various origins associated with me: ‘dreamtime’ stories.
He taught me how to throw a boomerang and succeeded where others failed. The lesson was conducted by standing on the shore and throwing over the water. I quickly saw the logic in it. When the boomerang didn’t make it back to us, the waves soon sent it back.
Dale Tilbrook cuts finger limes, a native fruit rich in vitamin C. Photo credit: Arnie Weissmann
The next day at the Mandoon Estate winery I had two very different gastronomy experiences. The first was at the excellent Wild Swan restaurant and the other was at the estate’s Maalinup Gallery, which sells Aboriginal art but also has a workshop room where Dale Tilbrook gives “Tucker Talks and Tastings”.
Over two hours, she presented traditional foods, including fruits, herbs and spices that were important in our ancestors’ diets. She talked about how it was used in nutrition and medicine, and in many cases still is.
And for my final Indigenous experience, I took an art tour of a now-closed prison in Fremantle, about 12 miles southwest of Perth.
Mr Cameron’s artwork hangs on the wall of his cell at Fremantle Prison. Photo credit: Arnie Weissmann
The prison was not converted into a gallery. Prison is a gallery. Tours allow visitors to view murals and images painted by prisoners in the yard and cells. Some depict crude, gruesome and murderous scenes. But others express an artistic vision now recognized as being so important that it contributed to Fremantle Prison being listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Archivists classified and protected the images.
Prison conditions are by definition restrictive and sometimes intentionally cruel. I was captivated by the story of my guide, Janine Della Bosca, who brought to life the horrific conditions in the prison and the complex personalities of the artists.
Their stories encapsulate important components of Australian and Indigenous history. Colonial administrators initially viewed the country as a large penal colony. They viewed ancient indigenous culture as an inconvenience that needed to be suppressed.
The Warders Hotel once housed staff from Fremantle Prison, about a five-minute walk away. Photo credit: Arnie Weissmann
The most interesting art in the prison was painted by an Indigenous artist whom my guide called Mr. Cameron, in deference to the Indigenous taboo of naming people after they die. His life story, along with his work, provided additional context to the references provided by other guides about the difficulties faced by indigenous people.
Back in my room at the Warders Hotel, a repurposed (and originally housed by prison staff) a five-minute walk from the prison, I asked myself if my experience was truly “real.” I have never witnessed a sacred indigenous ceremony, participated in a walk, or stayed in a homestay in their neighborhood.
Unless you are willing to invest significant time to earn the trust of your community, the mere presence of visitors is likely to undermine your fundamental authenticity. Similar to the observer effect in physics, witnesses influence the results.
I have come to realize that “authenticity” has some elasticity. My hosts were gracious and generous in sharing their culture.
In the end, all the average tourist can hope to take away from an “authentic” experience at best is a deeper insight into the culture, and the realization that culture is more about understanding than bragging rights.
