Memories or momentos
ONCE DURING my tenure as senior medical officer at Savanna-la-Mar Hospital, one Burmese doctor asked for special leave to return home to visit his family. We were noticeably short staffed, and his month-long request was just too much to ask.
“Why do you need a month?” “Because it takes a week to travel by bus from Yangon to where I live in Taunggyi.” “So why don’t you fly instead?” I asked. He smugly replied “There is no airport there. Taunggyi is high in the mountains of Shan state in the north. I have to take the bus. That is the fastest way.”
“Well,” I softly replied. “You could take a flight to Heho airport nearby and then take the bus to Taunggyi. It is a straight road. That would take no time”. The look on his face was priceless. “How do you know this?” he stammered. It was my Slumdog Millionaire moment. I had recently travelled through Myanmar and had to take that flight on my way to the neighbouring town of Nyaungshwe, close to Taunggyi , and had asked why we weren’t flying into the capital. It was purely by chance that I was able to unravel his scheme. Such is the nature of travelling. You learn far more when you live it than read or watch it on a screen. It is what I miss most about the pre-pandemic world.
Exploring the world had always been a dream of mine. I remembered as a boy sneaking out of bed before the crack of dawn and pouring an egg white into a glass of water before the rising sun. The shape that the egg would form as the sun’s rays hit it would tell your future. I always dreaded seeing a coffin, but it was always a ship, meaning my destiny would be to travel the world. Unfortunately, life happens, and my bucket list is still too long. My dreams have been further decimated by the events of the last two years.
My pent-up desire to travel is not isolated. There are many who realise now more than ever that life is short, and when broken down into the stages of man, even shorter. We sacrifice so much to attain what we believe success to be and miss out on our youth and creating memories with those whose end times are near. Then when the realisation hits frail bodies, we rue that youth is wasted on the young.
CHANGED AS A PEOPLE
Locked in our homes for almost two years, we have changed as a people. Stimulus dollars and reallocated entertainment and travel budgets have found their way into online stores like never before. Record consumer demand has created supply -chain bottlenecks and raw-material scarcities that are now setting up 2022 as a year for high inflation globally. With job losses and economic fallout from the pandemic, one would have thought that discretionary spending and increased savings would have been the result. No manufacturers, shippers, merchants or even economists predicted this spending spree.
The absence of opportunities to socialise and travel resulted in a diversion of resources into shopping, but when the restrictions are lifted, what will the world look like? Villas and private jets are hot commodities the world over. The desire to travel has not faded. It has currently only become out of the reach of the average Joe. This will change soon.
The travel market is evolving. Tourists are no longer solely the older travellers who are now enjoying their retirement. The “old snowbirds” or “wintering rich” who kickstarted Caribbean tourism will be replaced by hordes of Millennials and Gen Z travellers who prioritise memories over mementos. The change in mindset of the next generations has seen a paradigm shift in what was seen as priority spending. They are less likely to own homes at their ages compared to their parents. They are also more likely to spend on travelling and experiences rather than make major purchases. They are the generations that have finally listened when they heard that youth is wasted on the young and replied, “OK Boomer”.
The question is, what will travel look like in the near future with younger, less financially independent travellers making up a significant portion of the market? Will smaller properties and more economical vacation experiences supplant all-inclusive hotels and concierge tours? How will we make the transition from sun, sea, and sand to providing more memory-creating experiences for the next generation of travellers? Historical sites and natural beauty are the obvious choices.
LARGELY UNSPOILED
The natural interior of the island remains largely unspoiled. As a son of Clarendon, I am amazed that I am naïve to the wonders of northern Clarendon I see in pictures. Nestled in cosy communities islandwide are the ruins of churches and plantation-era buildings full of stories passed down to residents from their ancestors who lived them. The waterfalls, rivers, and blue holes across the islands leave locals wide eyed. What will they do to the concrete junglists?
I never appreciated living in Westmoreland as much until I read the histories of the brave African slaves who rose up in Tacky’s rebellion and threatened the very existence of the colony. Driving through towns in Westmoreland conveys a different sense of feeling when you know that the captured slaves who fought there sat silently in their chains as slow-burning fires consumed them from the feet up. Spartans at Thermopylae were a joke compared to these warriors. These histories are lost in the hustling that governs daily life, and tourists will never hear them inside their hotel walls.
Isn’t it time that we show the inner beauty and tell the stories of our land to those who visit our shores? I’m betting the tourist of tomorrow, now trapped in their homes, would love it.