Its harder than it seems to find a really good book on travel.
An important distinction there. Not a travel book,, but a book on travel. Every once in a while I come across a gem though, and this is the newest addition to that ever growing collection on my shelf.
The irreverent part of the book's title (or subtitle) comes from the author's uncensored approach. She is not afraid to pull the illusioned covers stralight off our wanderlust in order to bring us face to face with the reality of travel as it is, for what is, examing how these realities shape our experiences as travelers. There is an element of this that is meant to shake up our ignorance, which is perhaps more willful than we like to admit. But what makes Habib so accessible is that she also admits and embraces her own willful ignorance. She knows these realities, many of them first hand, and she also knows that the lust for travel, or to travel as a "tourist", has a hold on her. This is a tension more than it is a wrong, and something she has learned to be okay with, and even come to appreciate over the years.
This is her writing debut, and her debut as a travel wrtier, and she manages to write in a way that captures her unique vantage point while expressing and exploring universal ideas and experiences. Part of this uniqueness is her experiences with travel as an immigrant, as a black woman (from India), and equally as a western American living in Brooklyn. So when she writes of what it is to travel with a passport from a Third World Country, she speaks from a particular knowledge of these obstacles. This is an experience that I did not know and understand before, and Habib does a wonderful job of helping to show the limitations that Third World passports can have, the challenges of having to navigate visas, and the many stereotypes and perceptions that have to be faced and sidestepped along the way. And this is just as true for someone living and residing in Brooklyn as an American citizen. This is all wrapped up as well in a fascinating, and quite concise and pointed, history of the passport.
Much of what Habib writes here follows the shape of the world's global history. The history of travel is the history of colonialism. It is shaped by a Western view of what is percieved to be the unconquered world
"While such extreme prejudices have mostly been weeded out of guidebooks, the Baconian understanding of the world as a subject to be observed by an objective European male observer for the benefit of other Eurooran males has continued well past the nineteenth century. Even today, guidebooks tend to assume a young Western backpacker as their Platonic-ideal reader."
One of the more fascinating insights she provides is the way a percieved homogenous culture in the West, built as it is by immigration, travels in order to experience culture. We deem culture to be those things that do not adhere to our own, normalized (by which we typically mean developed) way of life, and thus when we encounter what are deemed to be "less civilized" environments, we feel like we are experiencing the world. It is the thing that feeds wanderlust. At the same time, travel is built on forced global relationships between western power and third world opportunity. Tourism is designed to import western culture into foreign territory, but in a way that effectively hides it within "the cultured experiences" that we, as tourists, seek, however real or illusioned they might be. The reasons this is so successful reaches back to the problematic nature of conquest of course, but in a post-enlightenment world, conquest takes on different language and different forms. It is, in a way, a much more cooperative effort, even if this cooperation is largely a forced byproduct of the modern world. As she writes,
"Western dominance has increasingly reduced the Western imperium to a provincial, monocultural existence. World domination comes at a price. This is the paradox by which European and North American cultures are increasingly losing their cosmopolitanism, because their definition of cosmopolitanism hinges on the universality of their own culture, from its version of coffee to its brand of human rights. On the other hand, the quiet, calculating cosmopolitanism of the non-Western provincial takes care to disguise itself as non-cosmopolitsnism, to camouflage itself like an Amazonian butterfly. It takes on more layers of subversiveness the farther it moves away from the center."
I loved the anecdottal stories she provides regarding her family as well, especially the ones with her father. There is something quintessential and necessary to the way she compares her experiences as a tourist with her dad's experience of being a tourist in his own backyard. She allows these insights to shape the way she travels abroad, suggesting that she no longer feels like she needs to do the things one is supposed to do to be considered a traveller, instead treating her travels abroad as an opportunity to experience the world the same way she would back home. It is not necessary to see the Eiffel Tower in order to see Paris, although she fully admits to giving into this lustful need as well. She can experience Paris by having a picnic in a park with food from an authentic Indian restaurant (part of the reality of the colonized world).
There are so many tidbits and interesting sideroads here (such as her reflections on Around The World in 80 Days, for example, or the way France saved its own culture through a calculated move to build a tourism ecosytstem, or travel's association with war and the ensuing history of the carousel), and Habib writes in such a way as to make her seem like someone you would want to sit down and have a coffee with. But it does have a clear, overarching vision that seeks to reimagine the notion of the "Third World". She dismantles the illusion that history as a singular trajectory, from less developed to the developed world, looking at the way in which we "divide our stories into eras", imagining that "we have come so far from our ancestors", by which we typically mean a better world, whatever we mean by better. She speaks of a "multi-temporal" world, one that is constantly changing, here today, gone tomorrow, circumventing and stripping away our self created and self imposed notions of progress. We exist in a world that is as transient as it is fixed, and as travelers we experience it in the shape that history brings it to us, the same world from as yesterday seen from todays perspective. The questions we ask of this world then, are the same questions we ask of ourselves. However much our wanderlust exists to make us feel like we are seeing beyond ourselves, it remains a phenomenon fueled by the need to esscape this sense that we are in fact stuck in time without any sense of movement. Travel creates these movements for us. Which is precisely why its so easy to miss that we exist as part of a broader movement, be it in a circle rather than a straight line. Its in these broader movements that, even as we enjoy the wanderlust and the tourism, we can, at the same time, recognize the realitie of our world's (and indeed our own) problems and potentials.
If I was to sit down for coffee with Habib, I imagine I probably would challenge some of her perecpetions on religious experience, and certainly her observations about our relationship to nature (she has an uneven chapter that explores the history of travel in nature, our relationship to the mountains, and to climate change). But I would do so wanting to probe her mind on her knowledge of travel and of us as traveleres, and how that fits into the spectrum of our lives as physical, social and spiritual travelers. As it is, this book will suffice as a great conversation partner to that end.