I recently heard that in Bali tourists are sold tickets to funerals. As soon as someone is on a deathbed, signs are hung up offering minivan services to the village in question--all aimed directly at foreigners who want to witness a real Balinese cremation ceremony. Since these mournful events are held in public places, there is little the locals can do to keep tourists away At times over 200 foreigners (some indecently dressed, by local standards, in shorts and tank tops) may be pushing their way through the crowds to snap a picture of the procession. The local mourners weep, but the tourists merely look for that one photo to show their friends back home.

As more and more people traverse the globe, plopping down in "exotic" countries with little knowledge of local culture or politics, it's no wonder that the term responsible tourism is gaining credence. The World Tourism Organization says that in the world's 49 least developed countries tourism is the second-largest source of foreign money, after oil As Southeast Asia recuperates from the devastating tsunami of late 2004, it is also recuperating from the loss of valuable revenue brought it by tourists who are too shell-shocked to return to the region. The double whammy of lost lives and lost livelihood brings home the fact that poor countries are much more innately vulnerable to the shifting tides of tourism than the rich travelers who partake in it. Even though tourism is on the steady increase worldwide, it's still a rich man's (or woman's) game: Less than 5% of the world's population enjoys the means to travel abroad.

This hit home on a recent trip I took to Morocco, the subject of this issues cover story. I checked into an incredible hotel that had been built in a remote, renovated 19th-century kasbah (fortress) made from mud and straw. The Hotel Kasbah Dar Ahlam was exquisite in every sense of the word, from its artistic decor to its Arabian Nights pool. But as we headed up the long driveway, past the goat herds and the dry riverbed, past crumbling houses and donkey carts, it felt odd that I was staying at a place that cost several hundred dollars a night--a fortune to the locals.

The next clay I delicately asked my host, Sarah, about how the locals felt about the French owners who renovated the kasbah.