The one holiday souvenir that makes me uncomfortable and wish i never had

TRAVEL SERIES IT TAUGHT ME AN IMPORTANT LESSON I WILL NEVER FORGET I imagine many of us naturally associate souvenirs as synonymous with delightful travel memories of places, people and

culture. Because of this, I collected fridge magnets and gave them to my mum for each country I visited. In return, my mum proudly displayed them on her upright fridge freezer, allowing me

to look at them each time I returned home and recollect memories of the places I have been. Sadly since her passing, those memories are no longer displayed; they are now stored in a box

somewhere in my garage. As a consequence, I don’t give them much thought. I have no idea of the number in the box, and I certainly cannot remember what each of them looks like. There is,

however, one souvenir that holds a different memory. It is not in the box, and it is not a favourite souvenir. In fact, it is not one that I am particularly proud of or talk much about. But

it is one that I will never forget because it taught me an important life lesson about what I have and who I want to/ should be. The souvenir itself is nothing fancy or valuable, but its

story is. It is an East African carving of a Lioness holding her cub bought from an artisan market in Kenya. I wish I could say the story is one full of magic and mystery or one in which I

am proud to reminisce, but I can’t. What I can say is the story came about because I was in Kenya for my wedding. My wife of twenty-one years and I flew into the capital Nairobi and married

on a beach in Mombasa. After our wedding, while on a safari honeymoon, the souvenir story unfolds. One particular day, when we were not on a Strength Adventure Friendship Achievement Respect

Initiative [1]. We were taken on an excursion to an artisan market to buy gifts. > _I won’t be another easily fooled tourist who they will see > coming!_ I remember moments before

arriving, receiving a warning from the couples around us who had been to this spot before. They advised looking around because you can purchase the same gifts and souvenirs at another

location for a much lower price. I listened and gobbled up the warning thinking how useful. Hearing this advice, placed front and centre of my mind the thought, _I won’t be another easily

fooled tourist who they will see coming!_ There is very little worse than buyers remorse, that feeling of you could have got a better deal or bargain somewhere else. So on arrival out of the

vehicle, we bailed, and we began weaving in and amongst an impressive assortment of hand carvings, jewellery, beadwork, musical instruments and more. As we meandered from one artisan to

another under the scorching equatorial sun, we noticed the ever watching eye of our guides. Stall after stall of expert artistry and craftsmanship on display, each a potential purchase, if

it wasn’t for those words, _“You can get it cheaper, somewhere else”_ that kept ringing in my head. That is until I stopped in front of one particular artisan selling wooden carvings. These

were impressive, and you could see by the enormous smile of the craftsman he was particularly proud and pleased we had stopped by; for him, naturally, it was an opportunity to sell. Before I

knew it, my curiosity had entered me into a dialogue, asking him, _“how much?”_ The craftsman immediately responded and channelled his big smile and focus towards me. I could see he was

pleased to see and speak to me, a Black tourist, perhaps a welcome contrast to the 90% that shuffled past each day. The craftsman explained that each of the carvings was hand made by him,

and he could do a special price, now that he knew I was from the United Kingdom. I looked at him and the people around him watching the other tourists. I immediately assumed they were family

members; all delighted our vehicle had stopped and brought with it potential opportunities to sell. I heard the craftsman price and deliberated, thinking I could get this cheaper elsewhere.

I threw back an offer which was met with me now paraphrasing the craftsman’s response as a, _“No can do.”_ The person who had given me the advice before stepping off our vehicle was

hovering close and whispered over my shoulder. You can get what I had in my hand cheaper elsewhere before moving on. > What we sometimes forget is privilege means the absence of hardship

> and struggle That was enough to convince me, no more negotiations, no more haggling over price, I declined. As I looked at the craftsman, I saw in place of his eyes hollows of

disappointment. He said nothing, but as I watched his body shrink, I recognised this wasn’t just about the sale of the carving; it felt a lot more. Regrettably, my mind was consumed with the

thought of the few pennies I had saved and the fact I could still get my Lioness and cub carving elsewhere. I saw the hurt look on his face, but I did not want to acknowledge it fully. It

was easy for me to move on and not think about him or his family. Although I dismissed it at the time, that look in his eyes has never left me. I have found myself many years later thinking

about haggling over a few pennies that meant nothing to me in the grand scheme of things. I did get my carving somewhere else at a lower price, but still, to this day, I feel ashamed when I

see his eyes and think how I could have easily afforded the purchase. It probably would have made a difference between his struggles for that day, week or month. When I think about

privilege, I now better understand what privilege gives. It gives us the comfortable space to remain focused on our own needs and not see others. So often, when we consider privilege, the

first thoughts we have are we need to give something up, or I have worked hard to get what I have. What we sometimes forget is privilege means the absence of hardship and struggle. Whenever

we are in a comfortable position to make a choice, it is because we have the privilege. To those thinking, why crucify yourself over a stranger, selling at a higher price. Surely there would

have been another vehicle or bus on the tourist trail where he would make a sale? You are probably right, but that moment and this story are not just about the purchase and non-purchase of

a souvenir. It is about privilege, and when we make a human connection, the most significant pain we can inflict on another is when we choose not to see or hear them. [1] Safari — until I

wrote this, I did not know that was a possible abbreviation for the true Arabic meaning of the word, “to make a journey.” (Safari is the Swahili synonym of the Arabic word). Thank you

Sharing Randomly, for the thoughtful prompt, on Coffee Times. If you would like to read or participate, you can find the original prompt below. WHY A SOUVENIR CAN BE SO IMPORTANT REMEMBERING

YOUR TRAVELS medium.com I wish to give a shout-out to Adrienne Beaumont for her entertaining travel memory. I am desperately biting my tongue to prevent me from revealing why she will never

forget. You have to read to find out why. A TRAVEL MEMORY I WILL NEVER FORGET IT WAS SO WEIRD! medium.com