Being a Moral Tourist

"I just saw that guy rob 2 vending machines. I think that entire bag is full of money he stole from them! What do I do? I did nothing! UGH. I hate morals."
"Actually, it seems like you like them a lot." -Conversation between me and a friend on the way back from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem.

My definition of a tourist: 
Bad tourist: Obnoxious, feels as though every experience is their prerogative, thinks of everything as a novelty. Interested only in their experience at that moment.
Good tourist: Respectful, humble about their position wherever they are. Interested in the history, politics, religion, culture of where they are. Attempt to understand that what they are experiencing as new is normal to many people.

My thoughts on being a moral tourist:

• Having a huge camera hanging around your neck is not what makes you look like a tourist. It is what you are taking pictures of. 
• First of all, no one wants to have you photographing their children. My Mom used to yell at anyone who tried to take pictures of me when I was little. Unless you ask permission from someone, taking pictures of them as though they are a novelty is rude and callous.
• If you point at everything and oo and ahh, you are marked forever as a tourist. 
• Being mindful of the way that you dress is important. Most likely, you will never completely fit in wherever you are. American casual and Israeli casual involve completely different colors, styles and gender norms. But that does not mean you cannot try. 
• Attempt to speak the language. In Israel, many people know at least a bit of English. Some are insistent on practicing their English with you. But most are happy to help you practice and grateful that you try, instead of just assuming that the world caters to you as an English-speaker. This also helps when living in an international community: here, Hebrew is sometimes the bridge in communicating with people from France, Germany etc. when English cannot supply the word. 
• Be aware of noise level. We Americans are VERY loud. As young Americans, we are even louder. As young Americans traveling in large groups EVERYWHERE, we are REALLY loud. There is no better way to attract attention to yourself than when you are pointing at everything, flashing pictures, and shouting above each other. Especially as, in Israel, even the loudest of conversations seem a bit quieter in comparison. 
• Asking questions is fabulous. Ask everyone. Today, I had a great conversation with a taxi driver. For me, as a prideful person, it can often be difficult to ask about things that I know are normal for Israelis, but it seems that most people do not think they are silly questions. (By the way, the taxi driver's favorite place in Israel is Tiberias, in the North. He grew up around the Mount of Olives and he often works on Shabbat, even though he is Jewish.)
• THINK about where you are. I feel that I am so aware of the differences in culture here because I am constantly observing and talking about them. How, at the beach, I made the mistake of thinking many guys were women because they had long hair, wore flowing pants and cut off t-shirts. Bringing my own attention to this in conversation with a friend helped me to question why that would be a typically female outfit in America. 

I thought about the implications of tourism a lot on a trip to Meah Sharim, a Hasidic neighborhood I ventured into with some friends to observe Shabbat preparations. Living in Jerusalem is constantly introducing me to different looking people, celebrations, cultural aspects etc. I have observed many of my peers rushing greedily to capture all that they can. I have worked very hard on absorbing as much as I can with understanding from all sides. Thus, I try to not only see, but to think about what I am seeing, why I am seeing it, what it would be like to see it from the other side and what it would be like to see me from the other side. This is a fabulous asset and makes me feel that I am much more aware of myself and my surroundings.
Thus, I have very few pictures of many amazing experiences like that. But I have my words and I can describe. Not walking around snapping pictures of everything also helps me to blend in a little bit more, helps me to remember that what is foreign for me is normal for everyone who lives here. I am in fact out of place! More and more, it helps me to feel like I am living here instead of just capturing moments for my scrapbook.

(A big thanks to my Cultural Anthropology training for all this mindfulness. Changed my life!)