While strolling down the avenues of Medellín, I ran over a Dunkin’ Donuts, a doughnut chain from the place where I grew up of Boston. (It’s the best. Local people are very joined to Dunkin. Try not to disturb a Massachusetts occupant and Dunkin.) As I took a gander at the store, a pit framed in my stomach and I got calm and despairing.nFor quite a long time, I had been running over Starbucks, McDonald’s, KFC, Papa John’s, and now, Dunkin’ Donuts!bMedellín had been invade by the chains.b Somewhere else demolished by globalization!
Somewhere else where the neighborhood character was kicking the bucket.
Or then again… would it say it was? (Said in a Morgan Freeman storyteller voice.)
Was that Dunkin’ Donuts extremely an awful thing?
Or on the other hand that Starbucks I saw before? Or on the other hand every one of those Papa John’s? (I imply that garlic margarine sauce is stunning.)
As I proceeded down the road, an idea struck me: What had that Dunkin’ Donuts truly destroyed?
I mean the shops and slows down close-by were still loaded with life and overflowing with clients purchasing bites and espresso.
What was truly disturbing me?
At that point it hit me.
I understood that possibly why I got pitiful was on the grounds that what Dunkin’ Donuts truly had obliterated was not Medellin but rather what I thought Medellin was.
As explorers, I think we will in general despise “globalization” since we envision spots to be a sure path from books, motion pictures, and our group social awareness.
We regularly have this picture — in light of no firsthand experience — of what a goal ought to resemble and how the general population should act. We envision abandoned shorelines, or interesting bistros, or natural old towns, or abrasive, worn-out urban communities since we saw that in a motion picture or read a book ten years prior. That is to say, most Americans still think Colombia is abounding with narcos or that Eastern Europe is as yet like it was the day after the Iron Curtain fell.
This is anything but another marvel. We need the spots we visit to fit into the case we rationally made for them. We need our picture of them approved.
Hell, even Mark Twain felt along these lines about the Taj Mahal:
” I had perused an extraordinary arrangement a lot about it. I saw it in the daytime, I saw it in the
moonlight, I saw it close nearby, I saw it from a separation; and I knew constantly, that of its caring it was the miracle of the world, with no contender now and no conceivable future contender; but then, it was not my Taj. My Taj had been worked by sensitive artistic individuals; it was unequivocally stopped in my mind, and I couldn’t shoot it out.”
I mean we to some extent travel for a feeling of experience and intrigue. To be wayfarers and discover spots without any outside impact. My companion Seth Kugel said in his book a town in England ended up well known with Chinese visit bunches in 2016 on the grounds that it was quintessentially English. Chinese visit bunches needed to see a spot that coordinated their vision.
Globalization prevents all that from occurring