Buy the Overpriced Tourist Photos
“Would you like your picture taken?”
Why does simple question — probably cheerfully asked by a smiling young adult with a camera around their neck — flood us with so much dread? We mumble and stammer over an awkward response, and sometimes even go so far to change the trajectory of our walking path to avoid the interaction altogether. “It’s a rip off,” you think. “We don’t have time,” you convince yourself.
I implore you to resist that knee-jerk response. Move closer. Smile. Embrace the opportunity. Answer a full-throated “sure!” to their question. Smile for the camera. Buy the overpriced tourist photo.
On my fridge directly above my (poorly-designed) ice and water dispenser are a few of these photos.
Instead of cursing my godforsaken water dispenser, multiple times a day I find myself smiling in front of the fridge. A quick glance at these photos transports me back to specific times and places I’ve shared with the people I love. While the photos themselves are fun, for me their real power comes in being reminded of the circumstances around the photos. Cancer. Death. Decline. Sickness. Trauma. Survival. Enduring. Recovery. Thriving. Smiling.
Take every opportunity to capture the moments you share with the people you love. These moments are all we have. Even if you’re visiting the same place again and again, your bodies, minds, spirits, and haircuts are different. The kids are a bit taller than last year. These moments are all we have. Buy the overpriced tourist photos.
Ask strangers to take your photo
I’ve had the good fortune to travel to some pretty incredible places. I’ve found that even in the most stunning places, people take creative and often hilarious steps to avoid having to interact with strangers. Selfie sticks had their moment in the sun (though we still rarely see them from time to time), so most people rely on the awkward Stretch Armstrong selfie arm. I’m guilty as charged.
We contort ourselves to avoid mildly inconveniencing a stranger. It’s fucking nonsense. Get over those weird feelings. Ask someone to take your picture. They’ll say yes. You’ll be glad they did.
And here’s the beauty; now you reciprocate. Have them gather their companions for a photo. “Oh that’s ok” they’ll say. They feel that same awkwardness. Insist. Take their picture. They’ll be glad you did.
And now that the ice is broken, the sky’s the limit! we’ve had fantastic conversations with people — starting with “HOLY SHIT CAN YOU BELIEVE HOW BEAUTIFUL THIS PLACE IS!?” I don’t mind being the loud American that gives people permission to actually express their awe out loud. Through these interactions, we’ve met people from all over the world, shared meals together, followed each other on social media, and stayed in touch over email.
Take photos of others.
This whole process is even better when it’s flipped on its head! When I see 6 people huddled together with the tallest person in the bunch awkwardly extending a phone to the sky, I interject and ask if I can take their photo. They always say no. I insist. They relent. I take their photos. I count down: 3! 2! 1! but they don’t know the entire time I’m firing off as many photos as I possibly can (film’s cheap these days). I hand the phone back. I leave the group huddled around a phone reviewing the photos. I watch their smiles and walk away with a smile on my face.
The price paid — whether financial or social — to procure these photos is well worth it. These photos are invaluable, capturing a moment in time that will never happen again. Hanging on a fridge they’ll regularly bring smiles to faces. Popping up in an “On this day” social media or photo app, they’ll bring smiles to faces. And one day they might live in a frame sitting on a table at a funeral home, bringing tearful smiles to faces.
So the next time some awkward, smiling teenager with a camera around their neck, move closer. Take the photos. Buy the overpriced tourist photos.