美国新风情英语节选

A Changing Scene LUCETTE ROLLET KENAN 1: Travelers and Tourists For thousands of years, men have been wandering around--for pleasure, for profit, or to satisfy their curiosity. When the only means of transportation were horses, camels, and small boats, travelers were already crossing seas and deserts to acquire rare goods or to visit famous places. For the pure joy of learning, scholars ventured into distant kingdoms and observed their customs. They tasted the foods; they questioned the wise men about their gods and their history; they sat in awe on the banks of newly discovered rivers. Then they went back home, reflecting upon what they had seen, and perhaps they wrote a book or two about their discoveries. Slowly, nations learned about each other, men met and ideas spread--for better or worse. There was a time, closer to ours, when artists and writers journeyed all over Europe and sometimes farther to study ancient works of art and to exchange ideas and methods with their foreign colleagues. Poor adventurers trudged on foot while rich travelers rode in comfort. Two centuries ago, it became fashionable for wealthy families to send their grown children to foreign countries where they would complete their education. A young man was expected to acquire good manners and a taste for literature in France, an appreciation of music in Germany, and some feeling of history in Roman Forum. Thus all kinds of travelers learned and dreamed through the centuries. But their number was always limited, for they were only privileged minority--the rich, the free, the talented, and the adventurous--who could enjoy a pleasure unknown by the great masses. This is not true any more, Railroads, ships, buses, and airplanes have made travel easier, faster, and cheaper, and the number of people who can spare the time and the money to take trips has grown enormously. It is not reserved to a lucky few, nowadays, to admire Inca temples, giant Buddhas, French castles, and Australian kangaroos. Millions people do each year. But instead of being called travelers, they are known as tourists and they are seen all over the world--floating down the Amazon, cruising to Alaska, flying from Timbuktu to Easter Island, and taking pictures of Norwegian churches and Pakistani costumes. Surely this represents great progress. It is just and good that most of the people who dream of seeing the Parthenon should have a chance to do so. It is satisfying to know that remote ruins are not forgotten in deep forests, to be seen only by a few explorers at the risk of their lives. It is excellent that people of different countries should meet and talk to each other. But is it really? Is it really desirable to have the most remote beach, the most hidden temple exposed to human curiosity and at the same time to the litter and graffiti that humanity leaves in its path? Would it be better to leave such treasures to the local population, which perhaps does not pay any attention to them? Is it better to have a few knowing admirers study a painting at leisure, or a crowd see it in haste and confusion? The man who discovered the old Inca city of Machu Picchu in 1911 had faced extraordinary difficulties to reach it. But although dangerous and exhausting, the climb was very rewarding to him, and to the few archaeologists who followed him later. Once in the ruined streets of the town, they could wander around, alone with the memory of the Indians who had built it centuries earlier; and perhaps they were able to make some discovery that would bring more light to a mysterious past. Today Machu Picchu is a great tourist attraction. The visitors, brought by planes, trains and buses, walk through the city in groups. Cameras click; guides shout their explanations in several languages; people push, run up and down the steps, drop bits of litter, and perhaps take a small stone as a souvenir. Some disappointed visitor may complain, once in a while, that this is not the most satisfying way to see a place so full of history and sadness. And of course he is right; but without the modern conveniences -- and inconveniences -- would he be able to visit Machu Picchu at all? Finally, if you are in a bad mood, you may wonder what good, what understanding could come from the meeting of an exhausted tourist with the merchants of a city that he is visiting in three days, running dutifully through five churches, four museums, and a row of souvenir shops. The saddest aspect of mass tourism has been brought recently to the attention of the public: it seems that the great number of visitors is destroying the treasures that they enjoy most. Under millions of feet, ancient stones wear out, ancient floors break down. Parts of the Palace of Versailles may have to be closed to the public in order to preserve them, and some European caves, famous for their thirty-thousand-year-old paintings, have already been closed because the paintings were damaged by human respiration. There may come a time when only specialists in art, history, or archaeology will be allowed near the treasures of the past. Perhaps we would better hurry to see them; perhaps we would better take a tour soon. 2: What do parents owe their children? If I had to select a word that best described the majority of American parents, that word would be guilt-ridden. How sad it is to see parents become the willing victims of the "give-me game," only to discover that no matter what they do, it is not enough. In the end, they are despised for their lack of firmness and blamed when their spoiled children get into trouble. With this in mind, I shall first answer the question: "What do parents owe their children?" and I shall start with what they do not owe them. Parents do not owe their children every minute of their day and every ounce of their energy. They do not owe them round-the-clock car service, singing lessons, tennis lessons, expensive bicycles, a motorcycle or a car when they reach sixteen, or a trip to Europe when they graduate. I take the firm position that parents do not owe their children a college education. If they can afford it, fine; they can certainly send them to the best universities. But they must not feel guilty if they can’t. If the children really want to go, they will find a way. There are plenty of loans and scholarships for the bright and eager who can’t afford to pay. After children marry, their parents do not owe them a down payment on a house or money for the furniture. They do not have an obligation to baby-sit or to take their grandchildren in their home when the parents are on vacation. If they want to do it, it must be considered a favor, not an obligation. In my opinion, parents do not owe their children an inheritance, no matter how much money they have. One of the surest ways to produce a loafer is to let children know that their future is assured. Do parents owe their children anything? Yes, they owe them a great deal. One of their chief obligations is to give their children a sense of personal worth, for self-esteem is the basis of a good mental health. A youngster who is constantly made to feel stupid and unworthy, constantly compared to brighter brothers, sisters, or cousins, will become so unsure, so afraid of failing, that he (or she) will not try at all. Of course, they should be corrected when they do wrong, this is the way children learn. But the criticisms should be balanced with praises, preferably with a smell and a kiss. No child is ever too old to be hugged. Parents owe their children firm guidance and consistent discipline. It is frightening for a youngster to feel that he is in charge of himself; it is like being in a car without brake. The parent who says "No" when other parents say "yes" sends a double message. He is also saying: "I love you, and I am ready to risk your anger, because I do not want you to get into trouble." Parents owe their children some religious training. The fact that so many strange cults are enjoying such success is proof that children feel the need for something spiritual in their life. Parents owe their children a comfortable feeling about their body, and enough information about sex to balance the misinformation that they will surely receive from their friends. Parents owe their children privacy and respect for their personal belongings. This means not borrowing things without permission, not reading diaries and mail, not looking through purses, and drawers. If a mother feels that she must read her daughter(s diary to know what is going on, the communication between them must be pretty bad. Parents owe their children a set of solid values around which to build their lives. This means teaching them to respect the rights and opinions of others; it means being respectful to elders, to teachers, and to the low. The best way to teach such values is by example. A child who is lied to will lie. A child who sees his parents steal tools from the factory or towels from a hotel will think that it is all right to steal. A youngster who sees no laughter and no love in the home will have a difficult time laughing and loving. No child asks to be born. If you bring a life into the world, you owe the child something. And if you give him his due, he will have something of value to pass along to your grandchildren. ANN LANDERS