One Room, Many Views

So far, our Journey Into Literature course has been filled with great discussions regarding all sorts of aspects about travel. We've discussed the importance of both internal and external journeys, as well as how different -isms (classism, racism, sexism, etc.) can influence us into "othering" people. The film A Room With A View (1985), which is set in the Edwardian era, seemed like the perfect opportunity to discuss all these social issues. 

 In my small way I am a woman of the world. And I know where things can lead to. - Charlotte Bartlett

Remember the facts about this church of Santa Croce; how it was built by faith in the full fervour of medievalism.  [The Reverend Mr. Eager]

Built by faith indeed! That simply means the workers weren't paid properly. [Mr. Emerson] 

Yet surprisingly, what struck me most about the movie was that it got me thinking about how people used to travel in the early 1900s. How did tourism work back then? In what ways has it changed? How has it stayed the same?

Lucy Honeychurch, our main character, goes on a trip with her older cousin Charlotte Bartlett as her chaperone. They're from the United Kingdom and they're visiting Italy. One of the most curious details I noticed is how some locals in the movie disliked the idea of using a Baedeker, a popular travel guide. I haven't traveled a lot, but I've done a lot of research about traveling. There seem to be two perspectives through which you can explore a different country: either as a tourist, or as a traveler. Nowadays, 

It is obvious that in the beginning of the film, both Lucy and Charlotte are tourists. The opening scene features them complaining about how they were given a hotel room without a beautiful view. This sparks the question: how much time were they planning to stay inside the hotel, that they give  such priority to a nice view? 

The whole point of traveling, in my opinion, is to spend little time indoors and stay all day outside, exploring the city. It can be argued that, throughout A Room With A View, Lucy transforms from a tourist to a traveler, while Charlotte stays a tourist. 

Smell! A true Florentine smell. Inhale, my dear. Deeper! Every city, let me tell you, has its own smell. - Eleanor Lavish

In Lucy's particular case, her external journey and internal journey are tied. She grows, matures, and falls in love all while being away from her home country. Her physical journey is going to Italy, but her personal journey is becoming an independent woman in a time when societal norms limited women's ability to do anything completely on their own.

Nowadays, it's technically easier for women to travel alone. I say "technically" because there is still a lot of stigma. Everyone has seen the movie Taken. Other countries are dangerous and filthy. Criminals are lurking in every corner. Women are always unsafe by default, right?

I refuse to believe that. As a young woman who fervently wants to travel, I do not believe the world is nearly as terrifying as people have made it out to be. Is the world a dangerous place? Yes, but arguably so is my hometown. So is my college. So is my country. I take precautions when I walk alone, when I go out to drink, when I'm out at night. I take these precautions here, where I live. What's stopping me from traveling and enjoying another country while taking these same precautions?

A couple of months ago I read a fantastic comic/blog post titled "Don't let fear stop you from traveling!" It's a bit long, but it's worth the read. In it, a woman named Natalie recounts her experiences as a traveler and hitchhiker. I won't spoil anything else, you'll have to read it to understand why I loved her post so much!

By the end of the movie, Lucy gets her happy ending. She elopes and ends up in Italy, in a room with a view. This won't happen to most of us who travel. We won't necessarily find our soulmate, and even if we did, not all of us would be willing to leave everything behind and move to a new country. But that's not what's important. The important thing is to recognize they way in which trips change us. Most of the time, we come back home from traveling feeling as if what happened there, has to stay there. But we must never underestimate the way journeys can affect and change us. 

Identities

     Since a quick Internet search on "Caribbean islands" indicates that this archipelago is made up of thousands of isles, it is strange to try and fathom a single, unifying Caribbean identity. Yet, within this variety of landscapes, cultures, languages, and traditions, there is common ground. In "The Roots of Caribbean Identity: Language, Race and Ecology," Peter Roberts tackles the many facets of the Caribbean identity and all concepts that it entails. His introduction is clear and concise, and does a good job of putting forward his general ideas. Three of them are particularly interesting: first of all, his comments on the idea of home; second of all, the idea of one group being made to look superior than another; and last, the action of labeling and naming a specific group.

     On the idea of home, Roberts mentions that there's a certain instinct of territoriality within human beings. However, he also adds:

Because the human being does not necessarily remain in one place through a lifetime, home is variable and may be place of birth, place of residence or may be defined by the popular notion 'where the heart is'

While I do agree wholeheartedly with his proposal of home being variable, I would like to take it a step further. I altogether reject the idea of home as one single place. Home, I believe, should be thought about more as a network, as a series of places that hold emotional value for a specific person. Home is not just a shifting, changing thing but rather a collection, in our hearts and minds, of the different times when we have felt belonging and have achieved some sort of personal growth. As we grow up, travel, and move, what happens is that we "accumulate" homes.

     This topic is always relevant when discussing Caribbean identities. Especially considering these islands' histories. When colonizers arrived in the 15th century, Caribbean countries were not empty; they were already homes to the indigenous population. With colonization, our current nations were constructed on the idea of a different kind of home. As more and more colonizers arrived and fewer left, as more generations were born and grew up in the Caribbean, the idea of home changed not just for Europeans, but for Africans and indigenous people, too. Currently, it is important to always keep these issues in mind, since nations such as Puerto Rico are living through times of simultaneous immigration and emigration.

     While Roberts does not elaborate about it in the introduction, is essential to mention colonization and European domination when talking about the Caribbean identity. Apart from relating it to the idea of home, it is of the utmost importance to consider the way this relationship influence society and culture. In our day-to-day lives, sometimes we do not realize how much our perceptions are shaped by European mindsets:

which one group is seen to be or made to look clearly superior in some respect, the instinct for preservation causes the inferior group to concede superiority. This is typical in situations where one group dominates another

When one group reaches a certain level of superiority over another, its opinions and lifestyles are also seen as superior. One example that comes to mind is the perception of beauty. Despite the fact that most Caribbean people look distinctively mixed-raced, facial features such as fair skin and thin, straight hair are still valued. In the case of Puerto Rico, in theory we seem very proud of our heritage: all kids grow up listening to history teachers explain that the Puertorrican identity is made up of Spanish, African, and Taíno heritage In practice, however, there is not doubt that European features are prized and even considered the norm in our society. It is imperative to acknowledge that apart from all the elements that Roberts lists that contribute to the development of an identity, we can not ignore the powerful (and occasionally violent) influences that dominant countries can have on the countries they control. We cannot picture identity as solely as something that is an internal reflection. Outside influences, must be taken into account.

     Finally, Peter Roberts notes the process of naming identities. In our culture, adults are constantly reminding children that labels are inherently bad. How can we reduce a person, or a group of people, to a word? We are taught that it is bad, that it is offensive. Yet this mentality fails to capture the whole picture. In reality, it is vital to stress the significance of personal labeling:

Naming of a group, however, can be done by the group itself or by others, which means that a name may be reelection of a shared experience of sameness across individuals, or on the other hand, it may be projection of beliefs, values and desires on to people without them having any prior consciousness of identity. Whether the one name prevails over the other is a matter who controls the dissemination of information.

There is a significant difference between choosing a label, and having a label imposed on oneself. In the first case, it is about strangers forcing someone into a "box," into a set of predetermined (read: stereotypical) ideas. These strangers will never understand all of the small peculiarities that make up an identity. People who choose to name a difference group usually do it out of a place of ignorance and of willful "othering." In the second case, it is about creating a space, and naming it, and making it one's own. 

     The Caribbean identity is many things. It is mixed, complex, and in constant change. It has a beautiful history, as well as a violent one. It is hard to define, not just from the point of view of scholars, but also from the point of view of actual Caribbean people. Yet we have accepted this; over the years, we have come to terms with the fact that our identity is not easily put inside a neat box. At the end of the day, the most important thing is not which words we choose to describe ourselves, but rather the knowledge that we are the ones choosing these words for ourselves. Historically, many ideals have been imposed upon us, but we have the power to take back our identity and little by little, truly make it our own. 

In the Eye of the Tourist

     They say "beauty is in the eye of the beholder." Lo and behold, the beauty of San Juan, Puerto Rico.

     Today, I put on a pair of different eyes. For a few hours, I stopped observing my surroundings as a Puertorrican, and started seeing things from the point of view of a tourist. It was a strange experience, but it lead to some interesting conclusions. At first, I was hesitant to do this activity. I do not look like a white American or a white European, which are usually the types of tourists that one encounter in the Old San Juan. As a reaction to this, I tried my best to "look" the part with my outfit: I wore loose shorts, a tank top, sneakers, and a cap. I did the tour with a big backpack and with my camera in hand. Since I didn't physically look like a tourist, my instinct was to at least dress up as the stereotype of a tourist. 

     Looking back, perhaps it was a bit ridiculous. I quickly discovered that being a tourist is much more than just having one specific look. In fact, it can be argued that being a tourist has less to do with how you look, and more to do with how you act. 

     Perhaps I didn't have a tourist "look," but I certainly had tourist eyes, and that made a world of a difference. I was born and raised here in Puerto Rico, so I've always felt like I already know all there is to know regarding the Old San Juan. I knew about El Morro, and I knew about San Cristóbal. I knew about the legend of La garita del diablo and about the history of the Spanish army in Puerto Rico. 

        But from the perspective of someone who is here visiting, it's not just about knowing; it's about observing. There are many, many historical facts that I learned in school. This is information that I know, because it was taught to me with a book (or, occasionally, a field trip). Tourism is about independent observation. If I had to put it in terms of analogies, I would say this: if growing up in Puerto Rico was like going to school, then seeing Puerto Rico from the point of view of a tourist was more like homeschooling. Yes, it's true that there was the option to watch an educational movie or take a professional, guided tour. But there's a certain beauty and satisfaction in personal discoveries; in walking alone, at one's own pace, and learning in one's own time. 

    I did this tourism activity by myself. It was strange at first, because I was used to doing these sorts of expeditions in big groups. But the more time I spent alone, the better the experience got. El Castillo San Cristóbal has many floors and rooms, and everywhere I looked I found plaques that explained the history of the fort. I noticed that these plaques were not organized in any particular order. You could walk around and observe the building in any way that you chose. 

    I noticed the fort's architecture. I noticed the three flags, one of which I previously had no idea what it meant. I noticed tourist, real tourists, walking around and taking pictures. This was another important realization for me: taking pictures. Nowadays, photography has become and informal, casual, fun hobby, because everyone can take pictures with their phone. But once you are a tourist, you being to truly appreciate the environment that surrounds you. On one hand, you can't help but want to take photos of everything. But on the other hand, you also understand that quality is more important than quantity. You develop this urge to take truly good pictures that capture the essence of your trip.

     I do not think "Tourist Sabrina" was treated any differently than "Regular Sabrina". When I asked for a brochure, I did my best to pronounce "Brochure?" and lose my accent. The man in the counter said "Yeah," instead of "Sí, claro" and handed me one... Which I assume means that he believed I was speaking in English. When I was in line to buy a ticket, however, something else happened. I noticed that the guy at the desk was speaking in English to the Americans in front of me. As soon as I walked over, however, he greeted me kindly in Spanish. I hadn't said anything to him yet; I had simply walked over in silence. He also mentioned that an educational video was going to start playing in a few minutes, and that right now the Spanish version would be playing. 

     I did not mind the assumption that Spanish was my first language, but it did confirm my suspicions that, no matter how hard I try, I will never really look like a tourist. But that's OK. If there's one thing that I learned from this experience is that it's not about having a tourist outfit, but rather having a tourist's outlook. It's about being willing to walk by oneself and explore things one by one. It's about learning new things, and taking good pictures. It's about noticing the little details that we usually ignore because of our hectic lives. Most importantly, it's extremely important not to assume that, just because we were born here, that we've already seen all there is to see. Yes, we all took educational field trips when we were in middle school. Yes, we all learned about Puerto Rico's history in high school. But we have this mentality that, just because we were born and raised here, that we don't need to act like "ridiculous" tourists. But being a tourist isn't ridiculous (OK, maybe sometimes it is). But it's also more than that. Being a tourist in entertaining; it's fun. But most of all, being a tourist means being an "observator" of the world around us. 

In Defense of our What We See, and What We Miss

     As an introduction to the topic of perception, I would like to share the following videos: Selective Attention Test, and Test Your Awareness: Whodunnit?

Selective Attention Test [link]

Test Your Awareness: Whodunnit? [link]

   While these videos might appear to be simply humorous at first glance, there's no denying that they're also thought-provoking. As the busy, distracted human beings that we sometimes tend to be, I think sometimes we'd like to believe that we're the ones to blame for our inattentiveness. What most people don't know, however, is that there are scientific explanations as to why we focus on certain details, while we ignore others. Science can explain why we seem to focus subconsciously or automatically. 

     Nowadays it's very easy, cliché even, to blame technology. It's easy to blame our modern, hectic, day-to-day lives. I don't want to deny that those factors have an influence... But I can't help but feel that when we adopt this mentality, we're doing a disservice to ourselves. 

     As it turns out, it would be physically impossible for our brains to pay attention to everything, all the time, even if we wanted to. Our bodies are constantly being bombarded with all different kinds of stimuli. If our brain tried to process all of those at the same time, our senses would get overwhelmed. Not just that; the process of taking in all that stimuli would be downright draining. Our brains know how to prioritize: they recognize what matters now and what can be ignored or dealt with later. From the moment we wake up it is not really up to us, but rather up to our brains, to decide what to pay attention to and what to ignore. 

     That being said, it is always possible to re-train our brain to focus on different things. I am reminded of a quote from the book Perspective: Amateur Eyes by Alexandra Horowitz:

Though paying attention seems simple, there are numerous forms of payment. I reckon that every child has been admonished by teacher or parent to "pay attention." But no one tells you how to do that.

It's true: growing up, the concept of attention is one of those things that we learn by context. We understand the connotation of the word, even if we don't exactly know it's denotation. We are never shown just how to pay attention. Similarly, we are never shown how concentration works, either. That's not to say that we grow up noticing the wrong things. Yet it must be established that when talking about perception, apart from the scientific angle, there's also a social one. We grown up and learn to concentrate on certain serious things. We are taught to value schoolwork, chores, and responsibilities, while leaving more "trivial" things (sightseeing, daydreaming) aside. Somewhere along the line, we forget just how multifarious the idea of attention is, and of all the potential that it holds. 

     In the ever-constant process of prioritizing and forgetting, of paying attention and ignoring, it's important to maintain an optimistic attitude. After all, we should respect our brains for what they do, not resent them for what they forget. Will your life change because you stopped on your way to work in order to smell flowers? Will your fate be transformed if you make the decision to stare at the clouds for ten minutes everyday? Perhaps not, but then again, maybe we shouldn't ask for that much. Perhaps the greatest thing about perspective is the fact that it's never set in stone. Once you start thinking about perception and realize just how much you've been missing, it's easy to feel disheartened. But once you reclaim your attention, once you begin to observe the world around you actively instead of passively, you realize that there's so much more to explore. 

"¿Te gusta el inglés?" / Do you like English?

   Last week, my university held a conference titled The lexicon in varieties of English around the world: PR, USA, Malta. The event, hosted by Dr. Manfred Krug, exposed the findings from an investigation whose purpose was to determine the similarities and differences between the English spoken in Puerto Rico, and the English spoken in the island of Malta. Additionally, the presentation included information contrasting the English used in the United States with the English from the UK. 

   While the lecture's focus was simply to expose its findings, and not so much to analyze the contents, it's important for us to look back on the history of these four countries. We can't discuss the English language without establishing the historical context. What today we call the United States of America began as a few colonies made up of immigrants from all over Europe, but especially the United Kingdom. Eventually, in 1898, it was the US that took over Puerto Rico, who was previously colonized by Spain. Similarly, Malta was originally controlled by the French until the UK took power for about 150 years. 

   I do not know about the culture in Malta, but in Puerto Rico there's a small sector of our population that is extremely hostile to the English language, as a direct result of our relationship with the US. Some people don't see it as an advantage, and don't take into account that it's the language spoken in many of our "sister islands" (such as Jamaica). It is seen as something purely political, a constant reminder of the US involvement and domination in Puerto Rico. 

   Despite these hostile feelings, Puerto Rico still recognizes English as one of the island's official languages. It would be interesting to investigate and learn more about Malta's history with imperialism and the general social attitude towards English.

   Speaking now on a personal level, as a Puerto Rican, I think perhaps we are being too hard on ourselves. We assume the worst of our country: we feel like we're leaving Spanish behind, conveniently ignoring the fact that Spanish, too, was an imposed language. We fear that we're losing our culture, that our Spanish is so full of anglicisms that it's shameful, and that we're the Latin American country who speak Spanish the worst.

   My father travels every month as part of his job, and I've had this conversation with him before. He always ends up saying the same thing: it doesn't matter if you're in Argentina, Mexico, Brazil, Suriname or Panama. English, as one of the most spoken languages in the world, has had a tremendous influence on hundreds of countries. The words "póster" (poster) is accepted by the Royal Spanish Academy of Language. Many Spaniards even use the world "puzle" for puzzle, despite the fact that there's already a Spanish word for that. 

   There's no denying that from a political perspective, Puerto Rico's relationship with the US sometimes makes us uncomfortable. There's nothing wrong with having discussions about imperialism and colonialism. Yet, it definitely puts a strain on how we talk about and discuss the topic of language. A nation's language isn't just a reflection of its past, it's an indicator of its future. As a country, Puerto Rico's historical journey has been filled with ups and downs, but for better or worse, our languages –both Spanish and English– are an intrinsic part of that journey. 

"Running Brave" - A journey of independence

There may not be an "I" in "team," but there's certainly an "I" in "running."

   In many ways, the movie Running Brave contains a lot of the traditional tropes found in sports movies: it's based on a true story and features an underdog, who we all root for, who goes to extreme lengths to become a champion. He faces challenges, and gets pushed around until he finally rises up to the challenge.

   One trope that it doesn't use, however, is the typical "teamwork" cliché. In these kinds of films, there's almost always an emphasis on coming together in order to win the big game. In many occasions, two foil characters must put their differences aside and come together in order to win. Even if they don't win, this loss is never portrayed as a bad thing. The moral of the story, after all, is that working together is the most important thing.

   Running Brave is many things. It's a journey movie. It's a film about sports. It tackles issues like prejudice and racism. It's about overcoming personal, social, and cultural barriers in order to win. But make no mistake: this movie is not, in any shape, way or form, about teamwork. This trope is so prevalent in Hollywood, that as I watched the movie I patiently waiting for Bill to bond with his fellow teammates. I kept waiting for those friendships to flourish, yet they never did.

   When Bill first starts running, he's going on this journey for himself. His Native American heritage is an important part of his identity, and so it becomes an extension of him. His family isn't forcing him to run. He's running for himself and for his people, as one. However, when he arrives at his university, we see other forces influencing his journey. He's forced to run for a coach who doesn't respect him and to represent a college that won't even let him participate in a fraternity. He wants to wait for the other athletes, to develop a sense of friendship with them, and yet his coach is constantly cutting him off.

   His journey as an athlete can be divided into two parts: his internal journey, and his external journey. His internal struggle has to do with transitioning into a "white" world and finding where he belongs. His external journey is a reflection of that: he leaves the reservation, goes to the "real world", goes back to the reservation to do some thinking, and then leaves again. At one point, he forgets his purpose for running. On one hand, he wasn't allowed to run for and with his team; but on the other hand, he was scolded when he interacted with Native Americans from other teams

   He wanted to run for his tribe, for his home, while being physically away from home. He was able to maintain that connection alive for some time, but eventually he had to go back to remind himself why his running career mattered. He had to make a physically journey to his hometown in order to pick himself up again and remind himself his real reasons for running.

   Billy Mill's journeys –both internal and external– did not revolve around teamwork in the traditional sense. He was running alone yes, but the most important thing was for him was to avoid feeling isolated. In his case, teamwork isn't about physical, athletic cooperation. Here, teamwork is about Billy running by himself, but being supported by his people back home.

What does it take to spark an internal journey?

I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move.  

   Ever since I was 13 or 14 years old, I have felt that my life is too stationary for my taste, although I am aware that in reality that's not entirely true. I was born and raised here in Puerto Rico, but lived for two and a half years in Brazil. Additionally, my mother is Venezuelan, so as a child I also spent many summers visiting my relatives. Growing up, my family was always planning some sort of trip, even if it was simply to visit my great-grandmother in Mayagüez.  

   However, as I grew up, family trips became less and less frequent. With every passing year, I was filled with more wanderlust. I began to feel mentally stuck. Looking back, I sort of convinced myself that any potential internal journeys were tied to whether or not I took an actual, physical trip. I had spent years watching movies about characters who travel and have amazing adventures. How could I grow as a person if I always stayed in one place? As I was about to learn, I would eventually go on a vacation that would, indeed, spark an internal reflection. Yet it wasn't going to be the kind of reflection I originally had in mind.   

   Last December, I went on a vacation with my family to Ohio. We rented a cabin and had a family reunion with almost twenty of our relatives. While the experience itself was wonderful, it wasn't long until I felt as if something was missing. We got settled in, exchanged gifts, caught up with each other's lives, and went shopping. Then, after a few days, the atmosphere was... calm. I was expecting this trip to be action-packed, and I was sure that we would have something new to do every day. Yet looking back, we spent most of our free time inside the cabin, playing board games. 

   

 

   In other words, after a while the vacation felt exactly like being at home. I'd been so sure that the simple fact that we were on vacation was going to change us. The trips I am able to take are so few and so far in between, that I hopped on a plane with the certainty that this experience was going to make me a more philosophical, complex human being. My internal journey hinged on the trip and on the experiences I would have while traveling.  

   For the longest time, I truly believed that personal growth always had to be tied with travel. Not because I thought that internal journeys couldn't occur without some sort of trip, but rather because I thought that exploring the world always affected people. It is now that I realize that some people travel the world without ever appreciating it, while others stay in one place their whole lives and still feel fulfilled.

    

   On the plane ride home, I came to terms with the fact that internal and external journeys are two completely different things. If I want to experience emotional and mental growth, it is up to me to read, write, and think my way through the journey.