Rocinha favela has become the largest slum in Brazil and a tourist attraction.
Photo / Getty Images
How can the modern-day traveller mindfully pay for tours to impoverished areas, and do so with respect? Jessica Wynne Lockhart investigates.
Six years ago, Lisa flew to Johannesburg with her husband for a work conference. While the other conference attendees stuck to the neighbourhood surrounding the hotel, Lisa (who requested her surname not be used) felt compelled to visit Soweto.
Just south of Johannesburg, the South African township was developed for Black people under the apartheid system. Today, it’s home to millions, many living in poverty.
“I felt like we couldn’t visit South Africa and not see it,” says Lisa. “It’s such a major part of the country’s history, where the uprising was based.”
Wanting to do so in a safe and respectful, she booked a tour with a local guide. But almost immediately, the discomfort set in.
“We were picked up at our five-star hotel and taken to some of the poorest spots in Johannesburg. It felt like we were rubbernecking as people were just going about their business,” she says. “Looking back now, I feel a bit cringey about the whole thing.”
Although slum tourism has been around since Victorian times, tours to low-income neighbourhoods have become increasingly popular over the last 20 years. According to research, it’s estimated that one million tourists visit townships, favelas, or slums every single year, mostly as part of half-day tours. You can thank movies like Slumdog Millionaire and District 9 for fuelling the trend — research shows these films increase viewers’ likelihood of taking a slum tour to areas like Rio de Janeiro’s favelas or Cairo’s “Garbage City.” Increasingly though, “poverty tourism” is also being driven by a deep-seated need to challenge our own privilege and bias. Simply put, we’re no longer comfortable ignoring inequalities abroad.
Yet, when our desire for cultural exchange and understanding ventures on voyeurism, it’s hard not to wonder if our quest for authenticity in travel has gone too far?
“It can almost be like treating people like you’re going to visit them in the zoo,” says Jamie Sweeting, president of Planeterra, G Adventures’ non-profit partner. That’s why ethical travel leaders like Intrepid Travel and G Adventures have put the tours — and the profits — back into the hands of local guides. He gives the example of the Salaam Baalak Trust in Delhi, which employs formerly homeless local youth as tour guides.
“We’ve tried to tackle that head-on, by redefining what the experience could be,” says Sweeting. “It’s very much about empowerment. We’re enabling them to curate their own experiences their way, and to provide that interaction in a safe space.”
When done right, slum tourism also has the potential to do more than just funnel money back to those in need. Fabian Frenzel — a professor from Oxford School of Hospitality Management, whose research specialises in slum tourism — says that the biggest benefit to visiting lower-income communities is that it gives them a voice.
“Tourism is not enough of an economic force to change inequality,” he says. “To address that problem, it has to be through other forms of redistribution, such as taxation and state action. But you can only get there if people can raise their concerns.”
Frenzel writes global systems of inequality are enforced through invisibility—and his research shows that slum tourism has the power to “increase visibility of poor neighbourhoods, which can, in turn, give residents more social and political recognition.”
But doing so mindfully is critical. Frenzel recommends asking prospective tour operators about what guides their own ethics: Do they have policies on photography or engaging with locals? What do they consider best practices? And where are your dollars going?
If dispelling stereotypes is your goal, it also pays to think carefully about the images and stories you want to share with family and friends back home. Are you only showing images of piles of rubbish? Are you only telling stories of the locals who were “so happy, despite having nothing”? Or are you also showing the modernity and range of human experiences and emotions present in otherwise challenging conditions?
Lisa recalls when, on her tour, she was surprised to see a flash BMW. When she mentioned it to her tour guide, he told her that his brother—who lives in Soweto—works as an executive at a bank and drives a BMW. The moment was a wake-up call for Lisa to challenge her own preconceptions.
Yet, years later, she’s still conflicted. She says that given the choice, she’d do it all over again—although perhaps with a bit more thought and preparation.
“You’ve got to see the hard stuff when you travel. You have to see the heart, as well as the highlights—that’s what makes up the colour of a country,” she says.