Being a Cultural Tourist

I’ve just returned from a trip to South Africa, a country very close to my heart. I grew up there, and it's been years since I last visited. Before I left, I had an interesting conversation with James Cuthbert , where we explored the idea of being a cultural tourist, not just in the physical sense but in how we engage with others.

When we interact with others - especially in moments of dialogue or conflict - we might find ourselves in their land, their culture and their experiences. But just as I’m stepping into their world, they could also be stepping into mine. We each hold the authority of our own lands, our own stories and it’s important to recognise and respect that mutual exchange.

It’s not just about me understanding them; it’s about both of us being open to each other’s perspectives.

When I got to South Africa, this idea became real to me through an experience I had. A friend of ours didn’t want to walk alone to meet us at a restaurant, so she asked a passerby if he wouldn’t mind escorting her. Not only did he walk her safely to the restaurant, but when they arrived, he came inside and walked with her to our table. What amazed me wasn’t just his kindness but the ease with which we welcomed him. He stayed, had a drink and became part of our evening - only later did we discover he was a complete stranger! Yet, in South Africa, this felt perfectly normal. The spirit of Ubuntu - a shared humanity and an openness to others - was very much alive.

What struck me was that in that moment, I was the tourist. This passerby wasn’t just guiding my friend to the restaurant; he was guiding us into a different way of being - one where strangers are welcomed and connection flows naturally.

Now, if I was back in the UK, I wouldn’t expect something like this to happen. The UK has its own rich culture that tends to be more reserved but no less meaningful. Where South Africa’s openness invites spontaneous connection, the UK’s way of being is often grounded in a sense of personal boundaries, politeness and an appreciation for respect. Perhaps it’s a quieter form of connection that values a different kind of space between people. In the UK, trust is often built more slowly over time through consistency and reliability. Both ways of being are valuable - they simply reflect different expressions of human connection.

The experience in South Africa made me think about how powerful it is to immerse yourself in someone else’s world, their land. Just like in that moment at the restaurant, when we are welcomed into someone else’s space and engage with genuine curiosity, something shifts.

We connect in a way that’s more human, more meaningful.

Imagine this: you and I are in disagreement. What if, instead of clinging to our own perspectives, we paused and became cultural tourists in each other’s worlds? Like any respectful tourist, we’d approach with humility, listening to understand rather than seeking to impose. We’d honour the authority each person holds in their own land - their experiences, beliefs and stories. And they would do the same for us.

By exploring with curiosity rather than judgement, we create space to share authentically.

And when both sides hold the best of their worlds while opening up to the other, they can co-create something new - a shared land that is richer and deeper than before. This generosity of spirit builds relationships that are based on trust, mutual respect and the possibility of something greater.

In a world where it’s easy to stay stuck in our own lands, I believe in the importance of cultural tourism - whether across continents or simply across the table.

Let’s not miss the opportunity to explore each other’s worlds.