A break from standard blogging:

I've waited to speak out on these issues- not because they don't matter but because I haven't known what to say.  I have been at a loss for words.  It seems like nothing I could say would add to the conversation.  I know I am sad, I know I've seen injustice, but I know I cannot heal it, cannot offer much comfort, cannot truly stand in solidarity since I cannot truly relate.  But I also do not want my silence to be misinterpreted as indifference, and I do not want, as MLK phrased it, "to be more devoted to 'order' than justice."  While I do not support the looters (and I think it's a myth that really anyone does), I support the protesters... I will not say "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action."  I support direct action and I do not want to shy away from this hard and fragile topic-- so I decided to write something.

I've seen some really troubling posts about the killings of Michael Brown and Eric Garner.  I've also seen some posts that aren't intentionally hurtful, but claim that this is not a race issue.  And I've seen some that are intentionally hateful and hurtful ones, telling us to "get over it" or that these criminals "got what they deserved."  People have called protesters (not just the looters, but peaceful, constitutionally protected protesters) "worthless" and "jobless".  But this is not the only hate I've seen.  I've seen unintentional racism not being educated but people being belittled and judged.  I have seen hate on both sides. I have seen people being called racists for saying that the jury was right not to indict (in either or both cases) and others people called unpatriotic, ungrateful, police haters when they feel like these instances should have been brought to trial.

I want to make clear that I don't think those who believe the police acted within their rights are automatically racists, nor do I think the people who wanted full trials to ensure that justice was played out are police haters or unaware of the safety and security that many hard working officers offer us on a routine basis.  These are tough situations.  Two men are dead.  Say what you want about these men as people... I did not know them, but most of the people posting about them probably didn't either... they are all baseless judgments that cannot reflect the fullness of one's life or the small moments of love exchanged with their parents, friends, or partners.  Their punishment: death, does not fit their crimes.  In the Michael Brown case, no one really knows what happened- even those who were there may interpret the events very differently- after all, often there is not one Truth, but many versions of the same truths.  But isn't that what a full trial is for?  To try to untangle the web and make sure that justice is served?

Regardless of what happened that day, my heart breaks for Michael Brown's family and friends.  My heart also breaks for Darren Wilson.  If I believe in his humanity, and I have to, I believe that killing someone, the attention, the name calling, has destroyed a part of his life as well.  I have to believe that regardless of what he told the court and tells himself, in the back of his mind there has to be a voice that questions if deadly force was necessary, if maybe, just maybe, he did not shoot Michael Brown multiple times because he feared him in a way that he wouldn't have feared a white man.  Some will say I've not given him enough credit, others will say I've given him too much.  Either way, Michael Brown's life was taken too soon and that is a tragedy.  And just as I grieve for Darren Wilson, I am allowed to grieve the life of a boy that I have seen so many people say simply got what he deserved.  Many of the people saying that are people I went to school with... people I know occasionally shoplifted, ran from cops when parties got broken up, sold or did illegal drugs, drank underage, etc.  Yet, they feel very much that they still have a right to life while they feel that Michael Brown did not.  They say it is because he was a criminal.  A "thug".  I think unconsciously what they mean is that it is because he was a black criminal.  It is because he was looked how he looked and dressed how he was dressed and not how they looked and dressed in high school when they ran from a police officer or stole a 6-pack of beer.

But I do not think that they realize this.  I know they would never consider themselves racist.  But racism is not only hatred towards someone because of the color of their skin, it is also the small nudges from society that systematically tell us that we should fear or judge someone because of how they look, or how they dress, in a way that may never directly teach us hate, but instead, instills contempt or fear.

In Eric Garners case, it seems even more infuriating.  There is no questioning whether or not the officer could have reasonably feared for his life.  There is no question over what actually happened.  There is a video that shows it all.  A video I forced myself to watch, knowing that I would hate what I was seeing.  That video... asking for help, saying he couldn't breathe.  Untaxed cigarettes.  He died over untaxed cigarettes.  He was sprawled on the ground, unconscious, and ignored, no longer a threat.  Before that he struggled.  Of course he did.  Before the chokehold he gestured and denied wrong doing, but he never struck out, never acted like there was even a remote possibility that he was going to run, or become violent, instead, he said "don't touch me" and an officer put him in a choke hold... I struggle when I can't breathe.  Hell, I struggle when I'm tickled.  I think any amount of struggling once the chokehold was used is irrelevant.  Do I think Daniel Pantaleo meant to kill Eric Garner?  No.  But do I still think he used excessive force?  Yes.  Do I think race played a factor in how quickly the situation escalated?  Yes.  I can even believe that the officers felt threatened... that they were scared... but they likely felt that fear less out of reason and more because Eric Garner was a big, black man, and we are taught that that is bad, that it is scary until we internalize it.  

Regardless of whether or not you think race played a role in these specific cases, the reality is that race very much plays a role in how likely you are to go to prison, and your perception of police officers.  Race matters in the justice system... and I for one think that's not really justice.

I think very few of us are willing to say, "I am racist."  No one wants to be prejudiced and very few people would say that they are.  When I started university, I didn't consider myself prejudiced, or ignorant, but after taking a gender studies class, I realized I had a long way to go before I could consider myself un-prejudiced or socially conscious.  This is not easy for me to say.  Not easy to admit.  But it is true.  In the class, we lined up against one wall and we were asked to take one step forward each time the teacher read a statement that directly applied to us.

• "I have never been followed by a shopkeeper who thought I might shoplift"  
• "If I've been pulled over for speeding, at least once I've received a warning rather than a ticket." 
• "If I've been pulled over for speeding, I've never had the car searched as a result."  
• "A police officer I don't know has approached me to see if I am okay at some point in my life"
• "I would feel safe approaching a police officer to ask for help regardless of the situation"
• "I have never been stopped and/or frisked by a cop"
• "No one has ever suggested that I earned my spot at this school because of my race."  

The list went on and on and one.  By the end, most white students were on one side of the room, most asian/indian/middle eastern students were spread throughout the middle, and most black students were still against the wall where we started.  I remember feeling so... ignorant and thinking "so this is white privilege".  I felt so selfish that I had never listened to people who had experienced prejudice.  I knew racism existed, but I'd seen it in people who wouldn't date someone of another race, people who openly thought less of people who were different.  But I hadn't noticed the hundred little ways in which racism creeps into the systems of people who might genuinely strive to love his neighbor (black or white) as himself.

And even now I realize I have so much to learn.  Learning is born from a continuous confession that "I don't know."  I accept this.  And I now accept that racism is more commonly propagated through small injustices and ignorance than through violence or hate.  But it is through those small injustices and ignorance that we come to believe certain acts of violence are justifiable.

I want to encourage other people who have grown up with white privilege to stop being defensive.  No one wants to discredit you.  No one wants to take away what you have earned or somehow make it less.  You might be a good person, a person who has struggled, and worked hard, accomplished many things, and overcome many hardships, but that doesn't mean you haven't had advantages because of your race that others have not. Don't get defensive.  We are all learning.  This is a slow and painful process.

It is time we all accept that racism is not just a few evil people who consciously want to hurt someone because he/she is a different race.  Racism is the system that tells us to fear the big black man on the sidewalk, because he is big and black.  It is the system that tells us that a group of loud black youth is up to no good but a group of loud white youth are simply kids out having a good time.  Accepting this means accepting that yes, #alllivesmatter but recognizing that since (the majority of) white lives already matter, we live in a world where the hashtag #blacklivesmatter is necessary to point it out.

It has been hard to write this because race is a hard topic.  I know I have propagated racisim through some of my words, assumptions, etc.  I am grateful for my friends, white and black and brown and any other color, who throughout the years have taught me how to be more socially conscious and aware.

Frantic collecting of localities: Porto, Portugal

Last Thursday morning, I had a cab show up at 4:45AM to drive me to the bus station.  I got on a bus to London Gatwick Airport, and then boarded a flight to Porto, Portugal.  The flight there was not the most enjoyable.  My seat was some how in the MIDDLE of a stag party (British term for bachelor party).  The guys around me were intent on getting their party started and each drank 5-6 beers on the two hour flight (at 9AM).  If I hadn't been hoping to sleep, it might have been more amusing, but I was grieving, and exhausted, and I just wanted them to stop yelling and dancing in the aisle beside me.  Regardless, they were harmless and I made it off the plane and through customs with no problems.

I met a nice guy and girl on the metro ride in (both solo travelers as well) and we chatted and then helped each other get oriented off the metro.  Walking out of the metro, there was a gorgeous tiled church right in front of me, so I poked around it for a minute, and it turned out to be Igreja dos Congregados, and then I walked next door to the metro stop to the train station where there is a tiled mural that outlines the history of Portugal.

First thing I saw out of the metro: Igreja dos congregados

Sao Bento Train Station

I pretty quickly and easily found the apartment where I was staying, but I had about half an hour to kill before check-in so I wandered 1 block down the hill to the riverfront and had a quick lunch (which included amazing, hand-cut, fresh, homemade chips/fries).  After lunch, I walked back up and met the apartment owner who showed me inside, gave me a map, a few restaurant and other recommendations of things to see, and left me with a complimentary bottle of port (Porto, unsurprisingly with its name, is a huge producer of Port).

I got settled in, unpacked, figured out the heat in the apartment, and even took a very brief (30 minute) but MUCH needed and appreciated nap and then I headed out to explore Porto.  By this time, it was afternoon, and I wasn't sure how early it would get dark and didn't want to get lost, so I figured a good bet would be to walk to the river and follow it for a ways, seeing some of the sights along the way.

View leaving my apartment

Only about 2 blocks from my apartment, I immediately came across a gorgeous church, Igreja de Sao Nicolau.  I stopped in and found the church very peaceful and quiet, and not as ornate as so many churches in Europe (hard to believe when you see the picture, but true), and so I stopped and sat, and let myself reflect and remember a bit more.  It was a really nice way to spend time.

Igreja de Sao Nicolau

From there, I wandered along the river, saw bits of the old city wall, and climbed up to a little overlook over the river and the city. I also saw a few pretty adorable dogs hanging out on balconies with the doors to the apartment open, watching me and other people pass by while the laundry dried.

Along the river

Old city wall

View from the point I climbed to

A cute door to nowhere... made me think of hobbits

Cute dog!

After climbing back down from the overlook, I walked roughly back in the general direction of my hotel.  Along the way, I saw the outsides of S Pedro de Miragaia (another church) and Alfandega Nova, which is a transport and communications museum, as well as the World of Discovery which is a new interactive museum that goes through the history of Portugal.  I actually would have loved to go into the museums, but both of them had hundreds of elementary and middle school kids outside of them and it just didn't feel worth it.  I kept walking and once I reached Igreja de Sao Francisco I stopped to go in.  I'd heard it was a must see, but I don't think anything could have prepared me for that much gold.  Everything is gilded in gold.  Everything.  Pictures aren't allowed but a grabbed a photo off the internet to put on here so that y'all can see a bit of what I mean:

The outside of the church

The inside of the church...

By the time I came out of the church, it was dusk, so I wanded back along the river, but continued past my apartment in the opposite direction to see the Ponte Luis I (big bridge across the Duoro River).  I ended up at the street level of the bridge, and the pedestrian level is at the top, so I started the climb and got up to the very top.

Porto at dusk- that's the Ponte Luis bridge in the picture

Porto at dusk- that's the Ponte Luis bridge in the picture

When I got to the top, I realized I was right near the cathedral and I wanted to see it before it closed for the evening, so instead of walking across the bridge, I headed in the opposite direction and took a look around the area and the cathedral.  Even though I wasn't on the bridge, I was up on a hill that overlooks a great deal of the city and even though the pictures didn't turn out so great because it was dusk, the lights twinkling as the city was getting dark and looking down at it all was so incredibly beautiful  

I turned back for a photo of the bridge as I went to explore the cathedral and surrounding area

Cute graffiti on the way to the cathedral

On the hill with the cathedral, overlooking Porto at dusk

The Porto Cathedral

I honestly found the inside of the cathedral to be a bit underwhelming compared to some of the beautiful churches that are scattered throughout the city, so even though I spent lots of time on the hill overlooking the city, my time in the actual cathedral was minimal.  By this time, it was actually dark and I decided I'd finish up my walking by heading across the Ponte Luis I to check out the views.  It's quite high and open air and over water, and since heights make me a bit nervous that wasn't ideal, but the views were worth it, and I really enjoyed looking out over the river at both sides.

View from the bridge

After walking across the bridge and back, I decided to head back to the apartment to freshen up and then head to find a place to eat.  There were three 3 doors to unlock to get to my apartment: the door into the building, the door into the hallway for 2 apartments (one of them mine), and the door to the actual apartment.  I got in the building fine, but then I could not get the door into the hallway unlocked.  After about 10-15 minutes of wrestling with the jammed lock, I decided I would use the very poor internet reception in the stairwell to use skype to call the owners and see if they could do something.  Despite very poor reception, I managed to communicate my problem and they promised someone would be over in 5-10 minutes.  While waiting, I decided to continue to mess with the lock, and I managed to open it around the same time that someone came to look at it.  The guy was super nice about it, though he seemed to think I just hadn't been turned the key hard enough, which, I promise was not the problem.  Still, he'd come out after hours for honestly no reason and was really nice.

Once inside, it was late enough that I gave up on cleaning up and decided just to head out to dinner.  I'd done my research and one of the best restaurants in Porto was about a block away from my apartment so I decided to head there to see if they had a table without a reservation.  Unfortunately, they didn't, but the man was nice and let me make a reservation for the following evening.  Instead, I wandered the neighborhood until I came across a place called Traca that looked promising.  The food was quite good- I had bread with herbed butter that was already on each table, and then I ordered a vegetarian risotto for my main course and since it was Thanksgiving back home and I was on vacation, I also ordered dessert: a mango crumble with ice cream.  It was a nice meal, though a bit lonely and sad to be eating alone when I knew the rest of my family was together, enjoying a good meal and even better memories.

After dinner I headed back to the apartment for some reading and relaxing and then headed to bed.  Friday I woke up to drizzling rain.  I was disappointed but determined not to let it ruin my time.  First things first, I threw on some clothes headed a few blocks over to a shop to pick up some soap and deodorant, both of which I'd forgotten to pack.  On the way home I grabbed a bit of bread and fruit for breakfast and then went back to the apartment to get ready for the day.  When I got ready to head out, it was POURING but I quick check of radar showed that the storm should be over in about 20 minutes so I waited it out and sure enough it quickly stopped raining.  

Leaving my apartment post rain storm- the stock exchange building.

I headed out for the morning and walked up to see Igreja de sto Ildefonso, yet another church, and actually my favorite from the outside.  It was a gorgeous blue and white tile and set against the super blue sky was really beautiful.  

Igreja de sto Ildefonso

Igreja de sto Ildefonso

From there I just wandered the area- it seems to be a huge shopping area and I browsed in and out of shops, finding a few wonderful Christmas gifts for people during my shopping.  I also stumbled upon Capela das Almas de Santa Catarina which is yet another beautiful church.  I snapped a picture of the outside, but when I went inside, it turns out they were having a service, so I quickly and quietly ducked out.  While in the neighborhood, I also checked out Mercado de Bolhao, which I think is the oldest and largest market in Porto.  It's covered, but not really indoors, and is very large.  There are touristy shops selling all sorts of souvenirs, but also shops selling fresh seafood, sausages, fruits and veggies and little flower shops and bakeries scattered throughout.  I took my time here since I love markets, but amazingly I didn't buy anything.

Capela das Almas de Santa Catarina

Mercado de Bolhao

Mercado de Bolhao

From the market, I wandered over to Pacos do Concelho (city hall) and from there to Igreja e torre dos clergios.  It's possible to climb the tower for wonderful views of Porto, but I didn't feel like paying to go up... since Portois such a hilly city there are overlooks from multiple points and while they might not be exactly the same, it just didn't seem worth it. 

City hall

The tower

After wandering around the tower a bit, a headed to lunch at a little cafe called Essencia that had been recommended to me.  Vegetarianism isn't a very common thing at smaller cafes and restaurants, but thankfully they had one option on the menu and and it was good.  The sun was shining and it was quite warm, so I ate outside, even shedding my light jacket for a bit.  After lunch, I wandered to see two more churches, which are connected- Igreja dos Carmelitas and Igreja do Carmo- although beautiful, at this point I was starting to get churched out.  I wanted to see the natural history museum, but most of it was being renovated.  I later did research and realized I could have gone in the zoology wing, which is probably what I would have enjoyed to most anyway, but at the time, the main entrance was closed and there was construction everywhere, so I just continued on my way.  

Fountain with joint churches in the background

I took a walk through a small but really cute park, complete with funky trees, and then I decided I would finally go see what I'd been waiting on: livraria lello.  It's a famous bookstore in Porto, just absolutely breathtaking.  No matter how old I get, I think I will always find something wonderful about bookstores- even plain ones or chain ones.  But livraria lello is on another level.  Photos aren't allowed inside, but I grabbed some of the advertising ones online and put them here so that everyone can appreciate just how gorgeous it is.  Unfortunately, but understandably, they didn't have an English books section, so while I wandered for a bit, there wasn't really much I could browse.  Still, I stayed for quite some time just soaking it all in.  

Photo by Jose Paulo Andrade

From the bookstore, I decided just to wander a bit, and only a few blocks away I spotted some interesting graffiti and what looked like an adorable side street and decided to go check it out.  As it turns out, the street led to yet another gorgeous church (Igreja Vitoria), but even more impressive, to an overlook of the city that was just breath-taking.  Porto is such a pretty city and it was a nearly perfect day with unbelievable blue sky... I spent a long time just looking out over the city. 

After that, I wandered back towards by apartment, stopping to pick up a few more Christmas gifts, as well as picking out a small souvenir for myself: hand painted little earrings!

By this time, it was dusk, and I decided to head back to my apartment and relax and then shower and get ready for my dinner reservation.  After a bit of relaxing, I hopped in the shower and washed my hair and then got out, got dressed, and went to dry my hair.  Almost immediately after turning the blowdryer on, it tripped a breaker and I lost all power in the apartment. I tried texting mom and dad, but shortly after losing electricity, the wi-fi went out for obvious reasons and no wi-fi meant no skyping and no i-messaging... my phone plan in England doesn't work in Porto so I was basically just stuck.  I figured it wasn't a huge deal, I could figure it out.  I found the fuse box and after a solid 10 minutes of flipping every switch and pressing every button, I was fighting down a feeling of panic that I had soaking wet hair, was sitting in the dark, and had a dinner reservation at a very nice place in about ten minutes.  I finally admitted defeat and went and knocked on the neighbor's door.  A few people around my age answered and one of the guys came over- read the little notice in portuguese, and then pressed two buttons at once and voila! Let there be light!  

The fuse box

I thanked him profusely and not wanting to re-risk the blow-dryer, managed to get my hair into some sort of french twist, put on make-up, grab my purse, and get out the door.  Dinner was at ODE, which is a slow food place that has only a tiny kitchen, no sort of microwave and is meant to be a home-like, welcoming environment.  Everything is either locally sourced or comes from another region of portugal, and it's all organic.  When you arrive, you have to knock on the door and it's small, so very few people are coming and going.  When I arrived, I was welcomed and sat at a bar/counter type area (but made of gorgeous, finished wood) at the window.  The owner was very concerned that this seat somehow didn't satisfy me or that since it wasn't an actual table that I might be bothered, but it was actually quite perfect.  It overlooked the street and the river, with a perfect view of the bridge.  

When I sat down I was brought a platter of all the starters to choose from and although I was tempted by all of the (non-meat) ones, I settled with just bread, 2 types of olive oil, in house made butter, and olives.  I also decided to start with a port cocktail.  I really, really dislike port, but I figured that I was in Porto and that maybe in cocktail form it would be better... I was right!  It was tawny port, mixed with lime juice, fresh cranberries, and some sort of tonic water, and it was delicious.  The lime and tonic freshened it and played down the sickly sweetness of port and it was delicious.  

You order everything at once at ODE, so I settled on 3 more courses, an actual appetizer (which is separate from the small finger food starters) and decided on a salad with dried fruit, seeds, and fresh local cheese with a balsamic dressing.  For my main, I had a vegetable phyllo type thing, that arrived with one of the best things I have ever eaten... it was a bit like a cross between thanksgiving stuffing and a muffin, flavoured with mushrooms and herbs, and in the shape of a muffin.  Underneath it was a strawberry reduction sauce, and to me as an American, it was very much a play on Thanksgiving stuffing and cranberry sauce.  For dessert, I went with chocolate lava cake served with a tangerine sorbet that had the most intense tangerine flavour I've ever had packed into a sorbet... it complemented the rich dark chocolate perfectly.  Along with my main course, I ordered a glass of white wine, but the owner suggested a different pairing (still white) that would better match my meal and I'm glad I listened- it was an amazing glass of wine. 

I was there for over three hours.  The owner stopped to chat a few times and to check in, but I never felt bothered and definitely never rushed.  The food and atmosphere were amazing, and I can say I truly just concentrated on enjoying the food.  There are no pictures because I never wanted to ruin the peace or atmosphere by pulling out my phone... I was content to think my own thoughts and be alone with myself and just enjoy a delicious supper.  While the meal was nearly 50 euros, I did eat starters, an appetizer, a main course, a dessert, and have a cocktail and a glass of wine (and a bottle of water since most restaurants in Porto won't serve the tap water... it's safe to drink but apparently not very palatable).  It was my big splurge for the trip and it absolutely felt worth every euro.  

After dinner I was stuffed and sleepy- I practically waddled back to my apartment, put on a movie, and then hit the hay.  

Saturday I got up, grabbed breakfast at a little cafe, and then jumped on Porto's historic tram no. 1 that follows the river out to the beach.  The tram was insanely crowded... there seemed to be some sort of family reunion or maybe church group, but there had to be 30 or so of them, plus other smaller groups/individuals, and when I say tram... I mean one single tram car.  I was packed in the back corner so i couldn't see much of the ride, but when I got to the beach, it was not really what I'd imagined.  There was more of a "beach" than I'd really expected, and even the rocky part was not really the cliff like landscape that I'd imagined.  That said, it was no less beautiful, and the water was not like beach water that I am used to... it wasnt rolling waves, it was more of a pounding torrent against the wave breakers and shores... much more powerful than anything I am used to seeing at the beach... whether the gulf, the U.S. Atlantic, the Caribbean, or the Mediterranean.  

Tram 1 after we arrived at the beach

Walking along the coast

Huge spray from the wave breakers... and it was a calm day!

So powerful looking

Gorgeous

Adorable dog was playing fetch and jumping waves

On my map it looked like there was a park (actually the largest park in Portugal) only a mile or two away, right along the beach, and I decided it would be really nice to see.  I started walking... and kept walking, and walking and walking.  Forty minutes later I thought I must be close so I looked at a nearby street name so I could figure out where I was on the map... I was about 1/4 of the way there... apparently the scale on that side of the map was much, much smaller than I'd realized (I'd been using the other side which was a closer view of Porto the city.)  At that point, I decided that 2.5 hours of walking (one way) to see this park (and likely walk around it) probably just wasn't worth it, and I decided to find a spot along the beach to read instead.  I found a nice bench looking out over the water and stayed for a couple of hours just enjoying my book (which while good, was research based... I miss the days when I had the luxury of reading for pleasure!) 

From there, I walked back to the tram (seeing a few more cute spots along the way) and headed back into town.  

Tram back into town

Once I got off the tram, I did a bit more wandering.  I stopped for lunch and also wandered the arts/craft market that had popped up on the river front about a block from my apartment.  It seemed to largely be all the same stuff and very touristy, so I didn't buy anything, but it was really nice to wander and look at jewelry and embroidery and different types of port. Right before sunset I headed back to the apartment and I sat on my balcony with a glass of wine and watched a beautiful sunset.  That night was low-key, a quick dinner, packing, some more reading... and that was pretty much it.  

Sunday was a travel day- I left the apartment around 9AM and I think I got home around 7PM... not much time for anything else.  I am slowly getting caught up, and I'll blog about my time since Porto in the next few days.  

Lastly, for those curious why the title of my blog posts have been a bit... odd, lately, I'll explain.  For graduation weekend (for the one year program people a few weeks ago), I wanted to pay some sort of tiny tribute to all we learned as a group and to reference things we all struggled through and now laugh about... Bruno Latour, a philosopher/sociologist/social scientist was one of the core authors for our course and once of his books (which we read plenty from) is entitled "Reassembling the Social"- hence, the perfect title for a post about a reunion.  Then last week, it seemed like life had been rather routine, but that still has value... or so says Kathleen Stewart- another author I've read some of for NSEP (an anthropologist at UT Austin).  And then this week, when writing about such a short trip, I was reminded of a phrase from an essay we read last year by D.W. Meinig (which was in a collection by Anderson and Braun) which says that people who travel often don't really pay attention to knowing a place... they just frantically collect localities.  In other words, as travel broadens, we become more and more likely to use it as a commodit to be displayed.  I think that's recently become more of a common way of approaching travel, maybe not consciously, but even how people refer to trip... for instance, it would not be uncommon for someone to say they have "done" Portugal after a 3 days trip to Porto.  

I'm having way too much fun connecting academic articles/titles/references to my blog posts to stop doing it... but know that is where they are coming from, and if you ever want to know what I'm referencing (because it sounds cool or interesting or you are just curious or really any reason), just ask!