I was not one of those girls that came back from my study abroad program thinking that living in another country for a semester changed me. Sure, I thought I grew to be a bit more independent over the course of those four months. I did use Google Maps less, shop for my own groceries and learn a new metro system. And maybe I pushed myself a couple of inches outside of my comfort zone. I did have a newfound love for tomatoes and an affinity for tapas with sangria and siestas. But did I need to fly to a different continent for that trivial progress? I was definitely the same Ashley coming home, that set out for Barcelona a few months before.

 

It wasn’t until my senior year when I started thinking critically about my actions (and inactions) abroad. My English instructor assigned an excerpt from Jamaica Kincaid’s A Small Place, a nonfiction long-form essay that explores the disparities between tourists and locals in her native Antigua. It hit home hard. I am the privileged tourist that has the means to see the beauty in the places I travel to, without the desire to see the reality. I see the palm trees while locals see poverty.

 

The semester came and went, but that reading stayed with me above all other coursework. When I entered the last writing class of my undergraduate career, I knew I was ready to dive into my traveler’s guilt honestly and vulnerably. I also knew I wanted to understand if others could relate to these feelings.  

This podcast is an exploration of the things I wish I knew, wish I felt and wish I thought about while I was in Barcelona. It’s a departure from the norm of travel blogs that focus on how to dress in Paris during the spring and which (tourist trap) restaurants you just have to put on your itineraries. It’s about the guilt I still feel for failing to recognize my role contributing to the negative impacts of the tourism industry. It’s about the money I wish I spent on local vendors instead of my local Starbucks. It’s about the times I wish I took the subway one more stop, just to see what the unexplored area had to offer. It’s about wishing I could change the way I traveled in the past, knowing that I’ll be mindful enough to try to change my actions in the future and challenging you to do the same.

 

There’s a way to travel consciously and a way to be oblivious and I’m ashamed to say I was the latter. But it’s time to talk about it. Together.

 

This is Not Your Mom’s Travel Guide.