Nýjasta hefti indverska tímaritsins Pratik: A Magaine of Contemporary Writing er helgað skrifum um borgir. Þar á ég grein sem ber heitið „When You Don't Live in the City You Live in“ og fjallar um það þegar maður fjarlægist á vissan hátt sína eigin borg, þ.e. þá borg sem ferðalangarnir sjá. Greinin hefst svona:

„Excuse me, I‘m looking for the Phallological Museum, can you tell me where it is, I can‘t seem to find it?” asks a woman who looks to be in her late 30s. She smiles a bit tentatively, as if prepared for an unpredictable reaction. 

I suppose I might have looked a bit flustered if this hypothetical woman had approached me to ask such a question, not because the museum evokes mixed feelings in a lot of people, but rather because I don‘t have the slightest idea where this well-known tourist attraction is located in my hometown. That‘s not due to plain forgetfulness or dementia (I hope), rather to the fact that I have never visited the place, nor have I ever had plans to do so. Still, I have read a wonderful essay about it by an American friend of mine, A. Kendra Greene, who wrote a whole book about the most obscure museums all around my country, many of which I had never even heard of, let alone visited.“

Ég fer síðan út í umræðu um það hvað túrismi gerir borgum og hvernig hann getur breytt menningarlandslaginu:

„All this begs the question whether we, locals and visitors alike, can ever get direct access to the authentic, if it exists at all. The very act of presenting one’s culture, especially if it’s done in a language that is foreign to the speaker or the listener or both, has a tendency to modify the thing that is being presented.“

Er eitthvað til lengur sem má teljast ekta? Eru þessi skrif ekta?

Heftið má nálgast á Amazon.