Disaster Tourism: Honest Altruism or
Vulgar Voyeurism?
A year after Hurricane Katrina struck New Orleans, the city was gripped by disaster tourism.
Rather than visit for Mardi Gras, people were asking for directions to
the Lower Ninth Ward, scene of so much suffering during the storm. Tour
buses still ply the route, as they would in any other attraction. Now we have the 2010 Haiti earthquake. It may take time, but we can expect the same to happen again.
 Helping out in the Haitian earthquake
Photo: UNDP via Flickr.
Why are people so curious about disasters?
Just like dark tourism, disasters tend to draw the curious.
It could be a taste of authenticity. People are increasingly keen to experience things first-hand, without any intermediaries. Rubbernecking
is also a natural reaction: people gravitate towards the unusual and
the dangerous. Just look at how traffic slows down when there's an
accident on the side of the road - not because there's no room to pass,
but because everyone wants to get a tiny glimpse of what happened, if
only to feel grateful for it having happened to someone else. Maybe people are becoming less sensitive, inured to the violence and tragedy seen daily on television. And maybe it's superstition
- if disaster has already struck here, chances are it won't strike
again. Some people simply like to be near danger. And some prefer
'unspoilt' places - unspoilt by other tourists, that is. Too bad if the
place has been wrecked...
Take the Christmas 2004 tsunami that hit South and Southeast Asia. The waves had barely regressed when sounds of cameras clicking
could be heard along devastated beaches. These tourists didn't stay to
help or donate - it was pure voyeurism, take a picture and run. The
same has been reported from disaster sites in North America -
firefighters and rescue workers often have to turn away gawkers with
out-of-town license plates who pretend to be local to get a better
look. What they don't realize is that they can be in the way - not to
mention the live wires, smoldering rubble and flammable gas that can be
dangers themselves.
Then there are those who genuinely want to help. In the wake
of cyclones and earthquakes, they make their way to disaster sites and
offer their skills or time. Professional humanitarian workers have
mixed feelings about these new arrivals - while they understand what
motivates them, disaster tourists may do more harm than good.
Just by being there they use up what may be scarce resources
of food and water. As untrained workers, they may get in the way of
skilled humanitarian workers or simply, just add to the confusion.
Tourist vehicles could hamper rescue efforts. It can also be dangerous
- and if a tourist has an accident, precious medical resources may have
to be used.
There are specialized agencies that provide those who want to
help with avenues to do so. Mostly, they ask for donations but in
certain cases they'll take people too. An example is the New Orleans
Chapter of Habitat for Humanity, which seeks volunteers to help rebuild damaged homes. Other volunteer agencies specialized in disasters include Hands On Disaster Response and Relief International.
At the same time, others believe that spending tourist dollars at
the site of a disaster is helpful because it forces money back into
what have become ravaged economies. In many cases this is true - but only once the emergency phase has passed.
When is it the right time for disaster tourism?
At the very least, after the aid and humanitarian workers have gone. People need a chance to mourn and to come to terms with how their lives have changed.
Wait until the disaster isn't front-page news anymore. There's a fine
line between disaster, current events and history. Figuring out how to
navigate this line is tricky. Look at Pompeii - today it is seen as a historical destination, not disaster tourism.
And pay attention to what local people say. In New Orleans, people wanted tourists to return as soon as possible.
 USAID rescue workers in Haiti Photo: USAID Images via Flickr.
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Tsunami strikes Sri Lanka 
