Tourists

On weekend mornings, starting around 9 o'clock, the plaza around the aqueduct is full. The tourists have arrived. Their numbers are the most pronounced Friday through Sunday, when they pass through the narrow streets in groups, their leaders whispering into a microphone, swarming the cathedral and El Alcazar. But, if you know how to look, their presence can also be seen in the rest of the week. The stray map, the couples taking photos, people stepping out of their hotels in the morning.

And it's no wonder that they come here. I mean, Segovia has a lot of bragging rights what with it's aqueduct and castle, and being the location where momentous historical events took place (Isabel I of Castile was crowned queen of Castile here, for example).

Perhaps if I was a local, I might sigh with exasperation over the presence of the tourists, tired of having strangers traipse through my streets. I certainly used to think there was some sort of stigma attached to being a tourist (well, maybe specifically an American tourist). And I have often done everything I could to avoid appearing like a tourist. I went to London last spring with my family, and I was obsessed with not appearing like the typical clueless, rude American tourist stereotype—well, at least this is what I imagined the stereotype to be like. Maybe it isn’t, but regardless of what the stereotype actually is, I didn’t want to seem like a tourist at all. 

This attitude creates a problem--it closes doors. I didn't want to stop and take pictures, I didn't want my pace to slow so that I could gaze in open-mouthed amazement and the wonders that surrounded me. 

But here in Segovia, I've found that my attitude has changed. Because as a new comer here myself who still feels a little like a visitor, I enjoy watching the tourist explore the city, if only because it helps me remember what a great place I have gotten to live in. I've given directions to several wandering groups, and taken countless photos for them. I listen to their conversations, often hearing snippets of languages I can't decode, and being strangely confused when I hear English.

And...I also really like blending in with them. Walking in the crowds of people visiting this place eases my nerves of being a visitor myself. I can walk through the gardens around the Alcazar, and read all the posted information about historical buildings without being worried about sticking out like a sore thumb. Because I am not the only visitor here.

At first I was concerned with acting like someone who had lived here all my life. But now I'm comfortable with my status as an extranjera here for a bit. And that, I think has let me slow down and stare in open-mouthed wonder at the beautiful things around me.

I love wondering around the city, taking photos, visiting the Alcazar, staring for long amounts of time at the aqueduct. In Ireland, I acted the part of the tourist: I spent most of my time wandering around Dublin and Galway, taking photos and expressing my awe of how beautiful that country is.

And I like to think that means that I have started to learn how to see the world through eyes that are open to wonder. And I'm pretty proud of that. But I think my younger self, the little adventurer that would, would be even prouder.