When I got home from a US trip in late 2023, Tashi told me that he had refused lodge entry (for coffee and a photo shoot) to Tenzin (丁真), who is the biggest Wanghong (internet influencer) of all of Kham and, you could say, Tibet, and indeed propelled Kham to fame in China in 2020. I was a bit shocked, but the decision was supported by the local villagers and even by my fame-coveting in-laws, who found Tenzin rude for refusing to take photos with them (delivering the message through his bodyguards, no less).
It was quite a moment, and speaks to the main event of the past 2 years in our valley — the many Chinese tourists who have started coming the past few years. Don’t get me wrong; I very much enjoy many Chinese guests of ours, but in general I dislike the copycat photo-taking, the drone-flying, and the rude entitlement of the social-media driven tourists. These people have inspired 10 new guesthouses in the valley, and many more all over the area. People have started using the word for family guesthouse — “minsu” — with a reverence reserved for propaganda-supported fads, a kind of excited party-speak, partly exciting because it is the current accepted party line and partly because it means money and internet fame. The blind acceptance of the rightness and glory of these goals simply because they are the most apparently common (normal) makes me very uncomfortable.
For one thing, we all know these are not the only, or even the best, goals — money and fame. What about the meaningfulness of one’s work, what about contribution to society? What about building a healthy and longterm lifestyle? The sense is that everyone expects to strike it rich, not just make a living. And indeed, by most local measures, my across-the-river neighbor (who, by the way, decided to use the hanging bridge we built for his own fame and fortune, and was able to do so against our wishes, in this area lacking clear property rights) has indeed struck it rich and is now, by all reports, such a star and so famous. A major Chinese movie production was filmed at his property this fall.
But really? How rich is he? And how long will this fad last? He has now taken his parents and grandmother on a pilgrimage to Lhasa, so that is nice (my cynical side thinks it is mere virtue posturing — however, virtue posturing at least implies some interest in virtue).
And how is this actually contributing to anything? The tourists are, by and large, interested in nothing but taking a photo of themselves in the exact same position someone else (famous) took a photo, and posting it on social media. They are not supporting the local culture; they have a whole host of fake so-called Tibetan foods that some influencer made up and are now de-rigour for these guesthouses — “barley bread,”– which is just white wheat soda bread as it always has been, and “tang guo” — a kind of unspicy hotpot; it might come from some part of Tibet, but it certainly doesn’t come from here! (It’s also simple to make and photogenic, though not that tasty). They are not relaxing or enjoying, and are mostly engaged in competitive internet posting, many in hopes of making a living that way. So how is serving them doing anything beneficial? These tourists treat the local people and environment without respect or care. They expect their every demand to be met, at bargain prices, and expect to be able to push around anyone they have paid to do anything at all — like the people who demand to use our bathroom and are upset when we tell them we don’t offer public toilets: “But we’ll pay you!” they protest.
So what are we doing? For me, I feel compelled to run as fast as I can in the opposite direction. One reason is that I don’t believe that doing the same business as everyone else, and competing directly, will lead to anything positive, just falling prices and quality of experience, as well as destruction of community and further environmental degredation through over-tourism. These are not tourists who believe in the concept of leave-no-trace. Another reason is just my own cultural background, blindly following fads is looked down upon where I come from.
But what is the opposite direction? Shall we make a digital detox resort? I don’t think it is necessary to go that far, nor is this the right place, since we have cell signal. But what we are doing is something like that, encouraging people to be here and truly put themselves here, to engage with the place, with nature, the local people, and the other guests. To encourage attention rather than the inattention that is the plague of the internet age.
It’s hard to be in a place where suddenly I’ve lost a lot of respect, because I am no longer viewed as the richest person, the most capable businessperson. Neither the local Tibetans nor the Chinese tourists understand my desire to run away from easy money. But I have to behave according to my own consience and ideas of what can benefit myself, others around me, and the society at large. Surely we all have a responsibilty to do that much, and it is what makes us happy, after all.