Despite the amazing influx of constant tourists in the summertime, Juneau remains a small town. There is a Disney-esque downtown, restored, complete with character prostitutes, to look how it did 100 years ago. You are never convinced of its genuineness, however. Perhaps it is the looming bulk of cruise ships that tower over Main Street?


Disparity was everywhere we stood. Disparity was the difference between ourselves as western tourists and our third world surroundings. The disparity was the difference between us and the server as we gorged ourselves on banana crepes, mango shakes, chocolate pancakes and endless sodas. The disparity was the money that we had in our pockets and the percents of a cent that we feverishly bartered. I would like to think I live a modest life, but I still felt guilty for being there sometimes.