When I was Undersecretary of Tourism, we cataloged tourists according to what they wanted. We came up with a variety of classifications. Some tourists wanted to visit highly urbanized places to experience modernity and visit places of interest like historic monuments and iconic landmarks; there were sun and sea tourists drawn to the sight and warmth of the sea, cultural tourists, agri-tourists or eco-tourists for ecology, religious tourists for holy shrines and relics; adventure tourists seeking new exciting experiences; extreme or shock tourists seeking an adrenaline rush doing dangerous things in jungles, deserts, caves, canyons, etc. You had all kinds of people craving new experiences. The common denominator was they left the destination with happy memories. After all, a tour is associated with pleasure and education.

But not for disaster tourists who like to visit places devastated by nature or man, like disasters and war — they leave with a heavy heart.

Disaster tourism is sometimes referred to as dark or grief tourism. It “involves visiting environmental disaster places that are either natural or man-made.” An example is the 9/11 Memorial in New York City and the Nagasaki or Hiroshima Peace Parks.

How does one feel after visiting the war memorial in Nagasaki that was bombed in World War 2? Perhaps one feels the inhumanity of man. The ugly face of war stares at the visitor. They go home with a heavy heart, thinking of the agony suffered by the victims who had nothing to do with the politics of war between superpowers.

Marawi City is fast growing to be a disaster tourism destination. In fact, its tourism office has never been as busy as it is today. There is a steady flow of curious tourists, domestic and foreign, who want to see for themselves the landscape after the diurnal carpet bombing by government war planes that was regularly shown on television. What is drawing them are the sight of destruction, the bullet-riddled remains of skeletal structures, the tell-tale signs of the horrors of war. They leave with images of victims still wallowing in the quagmire of despondency in the tent cities where they are still temporarily sheltered.

Impressive government structures have been constructed, converting the place into an evolving modern community. But the rest of the city is still under the rubble.

Let me walk you through Marawi today. Approaching the main Banggolo Bridge, which has been fully restored and is now busy with motorists, tourists make a round of what is left of the structures.

The first stop is the former Rizal Park, now renamed the Marawi Peace Park, which was not only restored but is more beautiful than the original. There, one sees the Minaret in its original form with all the bullet marks to serve as a reminder. From the park, one can view the mainly placid and mythical Lake Lanao, from which cool breezes originate.

There, one also sees the other finished structures which are now being used to house residents like the Sarimanok Sports Stadium, Leisure Park, the Network Operation Center and the Digital Transformation Center Buildings, the School of Living Tradition, and the Marawi Museum, the Convention Center, Gymnasium, and the various schools and the Barangay Hall Complex which houses the office of the barangay officials, health offices and Madrash (The Grand “Padian” Market and City Public Hospital are still under construction).

Also visible from the spot are the various mosques, which were not only restored but also made more picturesque than the original. Most of these structures were constructed along the lake.

And if one wants to experience more heart-rending scenarios, one should visit the “City of Tents” or the temporary shelters for the evacuees.

It’s a bit of an irony that Marawi is now marketed as a disaster destination.

amb_mac_lanto@yahoo.com