UN Special N° 649 Mars · March 2006 

Some thoughts on disaster tourism and disaster tourists

Three-hour tour – $35 per head, $70 if with hospitals, 100 bucks a head if with morgues

(10% from each ticket will go to charity)
Evelina Rioukhina, UNECE

All my apologies for this title – a typical tourist advertisement – which may, could and should hurt sensitivity, otherwise is it difficult to comment on a very new phenomenon called “disaster tourism” which has recently escalated, prompted by the many tragic events of the last few years and which had its apogee after the tsunami.
My apologies also to the tourist organizations which in one way or another happen to be promoting a tourism which has been criticized as immoral, but which admittedly has greatly contributed to the economics of the affected areas. It is not the purpose of the article to criticize them since this has been done already strongly in the press. My article is more to analyze or try to understand, or refuse to understand, another aspect of the game, namely the mentality of the players – the disaster tourists. Why do they participate in such tours, sometimes coming from the other end of their own country, but more often coming from the other end of the Globe (and paying a fortune for travel only!) Who are these people? What exactly are they looking for? What exactly are they trying to see? I am aware that all these questions as well as the subject itself are complex and too delicate. And while I know in advance that this article will be strongly criticized I have still decided to go ahead and write it as a sequel to my earlier series on the work of my colleagues in disaster areas, and who are going to the disaster areas not to gaze at the human tragedy, but to try and bring relief.

 

Sometime last January, one cold and windy evening, I was sitting near my TV set, browsing through the channels in the hope of finding something interesting on geography, and in particular on as yet unseen or unexplored places. Suddenly my hand stopped clicking. Something captured my attention. There was something indescribably unusual. The programme was in Italian, I think, so I could not get the substance of it. However something strange drew my attention: an unusual excitement on the faces of people I saw at the screen. I could not really understand what it was about, but could not stop watching. The images were the following: a sunny day; a beautiful landscape; palm trees; blue sky; a somehow unrealistic paradise. A crowd of excited people with all sorts of super- and hyper- tech- digital cameras jumped out of buses and with cries of excitement began to snap everything around. Excited voices… excited gestures… definitely, they were watching and clicking at their cameras at something extraordinary, something once-in-a-lifetime. It was clear from their facial expressions that they were experiencing something unusual, never seen before, overwhelmed with this once-in-a-lifetime atmosphere… the eighth, or was it the ninth, wonder of the world? Definitely something very rare, perhaps something very recently discovered, or something of breathtaking beauty. I wondered what it could be and where. Suddenly one of the group shouted, calling the others. Everybody ran, becoming more and more excited and overwhelmed, clicking non-stop. All of a sudden the commentator’s voice clarified the scene – it was the first disaster tour from Bangkok, a night’s drive, and you could feel the atmosphere. What provoked this sudden excitement was the destruction, and the object which completely overwhelmed them was the discovery of a dead body, thrown on shore by the ocean…
I remember at the time the scandal which tours of this kind had aroused. At that point the official explanation was that the local people should see how their territory was devastated. By witnessing the scene they would be able to help more effectively. Moreover, a large part of the profits from the tours would go to charity. I do not know to what extent all this is true. One wonders why, if the purpose is charity or financial help to the stricken, the tour cannot be omitted and the money given directly to them. Nor does it seem any point in clicking all these cameras.
The tourist industry quickly learned its lessons. The tour that followed the Katrina hurricane devastation in New Orleans already emphasizes quite different aspects – a long historical explanation, hospital visits are no longer promoted, nor are inspections of the shelters for displaced people, no digital cameras. Before entering the tour and especially at the end of it every participant knew that he or she – even if they had a moral problem or at least an uncomfortable feeling because the visit was induced by curiosity to view human tragedy and human victims – had nonetheless contributed to disaster relief to the extent of 10% of the cost of the ticket.
And still the tours caused, and continue to cause, huge polemics. Many articles appeared immediately after the tsunami tragedy commenting on what might be described as the shocking behaviour of western tourists. I’m quoting from an article entitled “Disaster tourists rush to ogle the devastation” by Geoffrey York: “Patong Beach, Thailand — Amid the death and destruction of Phuket’s most famous beach, an American tourist was enthusiastically snapping photos of rubble and wrecked buildings yesterday. (Name ommitted by ER) of Florida had flown into Phuket with one thing on his mind: taking pictures of the devastation wreaked by the tsunamis. He and a friend had spent $300 (U.S.) on airplane tickets from Bangkok for their whirlwind three-hour tour of the disaster zone.He seemed slightly disappointed by what he saw. “I thought it would be a lot worse,” he said. (Name ommitted by ER) then asked where he might find disaster victims suffering from cholera or, perhaps, dysentery, since he had one of those cool, new 1G compact flash cards in his digital camera that could hold almost 10,000 images.”
Western tourists apart, the visits of compatriots, as in the story at the beginning of my article, is painful for the population. See the extract, for example, from the Indian press of the beginning of January 2005 on the local disaster tourists visitors: “With the trauma of ’Black Sunday’ still fresh in the minds of the people of this fishing town in south-eastern Tamil Nadu, they are chagrined at, what officials in Cuddalore describe as «disaster tourism”, involving clicking photographs of the aftermath of the December 26 tsunami disaster. Describing it as a “lifetime opportunity”, people from across the country, loaded with digital cameras, are busy clicking the pathetic condition of the locals – a cause of annoyance for the victims. “These tourists are coming in big cars, wearing masks and loaded with latest cameras to capture post-tsunami images,” Project Officer for Women’s Development Corporation Nirmala Ramanathan said. “They click pictures of uprooted trees, fishing nets tangled in bushes and villagers who have lost a family member. And once the job is done, they leave without delay. Such tourists have earned the disapproval of the local people”, she said.
It is a pity that the disaster tourists have left such a negative impression. It is shocking and painful to see the tourists excitedly smelling and “savouring” this “once-in-a-lifetime” experience of the human tragedy. Unfortunately, their behaviour has affected even the humanitarian organizations and individuals who have come with perfectly good intentions. It is a shame to see articles in the press about such organizations. Far from being disaster tourists some of them nonetheless have been described as such. I quote from a recent article in the press: “They come in hordes with truckloads of relief material and a newfound urge to serve, but their presence is doing more harm than good in many areas hit hard by the December killer tsunamis of India. As unseemly as it sounds, these well-meaning people have spawned a new industry – disaster tourism. The massive inflow of charitable organisations and aid volunteers to the tsunamihit areas of Tamil Nadu, Andaman and Nicobar Islands, Kerala, Pondicherry and Andhra Pradesh is what is now being seen as the second giant wave. And overzealous volunteers, obsessed with the need to «do good» are making things worse – in many places.”
You may agree or disagree. It is a topic that deserves a separate discussion. Trying to do good, without efficient technical support and knowledge, might with the best possible intentions provoke chaos and could make things worse. There are, of course, many different ways of participating and contributing, and in an event such case as the tsunami, with its unprecedented share of tragedy and human casualties there may be ways of assisting other than communal collections or individual donations. As far as I know, having been many times in the Maldives, tourists there are not in touch with local population, but all their expenses go to the country’s economy and in this case it is the country’s main income. So perhaps just going to a disaster area, such as Phuket or Sri Lanka, and spending your savings for holidays will make an acceptable contribution. But this does not mean that we should rush to gaze at human tragedy, snap the images and excite ourselves by seeing bodies washed up on the beach. Just quietly helping and showing solidarity, as many people did during this last year, will be a good enough.
I was reading somewhere that “Humanity is slowly losing its respect for death and destruction which are instead becoming objects to be gawked at. Why this new morbid fascination with tragedy? Have we become so overexposed that we no longer have feelings?”
This statement perhaps deserves deeper study. Events of these past years show that feelings still exist, as does compassion. Not all humanity is lost, and on the contrary it may be on the rise: How many people gathered and came to Phuket (no excitement, no gazing, no clicking cameras). People arrived to show their solidarity, to sympathize with victims and their families, with the local population. They came to light candles for each person who perished, to deposit flowers to a dear one or to someone completely unknown. How many people came to Sri Lanka and other disaster sites to commemorate the victims.
And how many people participated in charitable collections. In the place where I work I was proud that all, literally all, my colleagues donated to the collections and contributed also separately. Just recently many of them helped with the collection of children’s wear for Pakistan organized by ILO. Definitely, humanity has not lost its human feelings!

 

It was late evening when I finished my article. I was very happy to write this pathetic phrase at the end and put an exclamation mark as if proclaiming again and again the victory of good over evil. Suddenly my glance fall on a poster with mountains that I have in the office. I looked at the text: “Come to visit us and make a fascinating helicopter tour over the Himalaya mountains – once-in-a-lifetime experience guaranteed. You will see Mt. Everest, and much more…” Clearly, it is more than a dream, It really is something once-in-a-lifetime. But this time, my imagination was plagued by a strange allegory: the same poster, the same Himalayan mountains, almost the same words “Come to visit us and make a fascinating helicopter flight: once-in-a-lifetime experience guaranteed – you will see the Hindu Kush mountains (scene of the recent Pakistani earthquake in which innumerable lives were lost), the Siran Valley (site of the epicenter of the earthquake), massive destruction, camps for displaced persons, and much more… 10% for charity…” Will there be volunteers for such a tour, to feel the atmosphere of this tragedy and to click once-in-a-life-time images? What a horrible question. How could it ever have come to my mind!

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