海角大神

Each day, Degu猫ne Gaye watches the ferry chug in from the mainland, disgorging a herd of sunburned tourists onto Gor茅e Island鈥檚 white-sand beaches.

From there, she knows, they鈥檒l probably trace a familiar itinerary, following their guides somberly past a memorial to the transatlantic slave trade and then to the famous House of Slaves, a candy-pink building that claims to be the departure point for millions of Africans sent to the Americas.

After that, the groups will likely snap a few photos of the colorful colonial houses that line the cobblestone roads, and haggle for cheap tie-dye towels and wood sculptures from a seemingly never-ending procession of earnest proprietors.

鈥淢adame, madame, please come inside. Looking is for free.鈥�

鈥淔or you, mon fr猫re, I make good price.鈥�

And then, as quickly as they came, most of the visitors will be gone.听听

鈥淭he tourists don鈥檛 leave their money here,鈥� says Ms. Gaye, watching the waves froth over the rocky shore beside her house. 鈥淭ourism isn鈥檛 working for us.鈥�

Gaye鈥檚 home sits just a few hundred yards from Gor茅e鈥檚 tourist trail. But she inhabits a different world. She lives in two rooms at the end of a crumbling colonial office building, whose windows are without glass and gaping. There is no electricity and no indoor plumbing. Two of her sons have recently left for the capital, Dakar, a 30-minute boat ride away, after failing to find work in their hometown.

Since Gor茅e was declared a 鈥淲orld Heritage Site鈥� by UNESCO听鈥� the United Nations鈥� cultural agency听鈥� in 1978, its tourism industry has mushroomed. Tens of thousands of tourists visit the island each year. Among them: Nelson Mandela, Barack Obama, and former Zimbabwean President Robert Mugabe, who wrote in the House of Slaves guestbook in 1991, 鈥淚 have seen! I have been moved and shocked.鈥�

But like at many of UNESCO鈥檚 1,073 heritage sites, particularly those in the developing world, locals in Gor茅e have struggled to reap the benefits of the island鈥檚 fame. Each day, their community is overrun with tourists听鈥撎齛nd their garbage. But most of the jobs serving them听鈥� from guides to waiters to shopkeepers听鈥� have gone to mainlanders, locals say. Rules set by UNESCO and local heritage authorities guarding the structural integrity of heritage buildings, meanwhile, have made it prohibitively expensive to repair or upgrade the decaying colonial buildings where most of the island鈥檚 1,700 residents still live.

鈥淲e have a saying here听鈥� the money leaves Gor茅e on the 4 o鈥檆lock ferry,鈥� says Mansour Sow, who advises Gor茅e鈥檚 mayor on heritage development. The red tape around renovating heritage buildings has 鈥渓eft us with so many restrictions.鈥�

'The spirit of this place has transformed'

Since 1972, the 鈥渨orld heritage鈥� designation has been bestowed on sites around the world deemed to be of 鈥渙utstanding universal value鈥� to humanity. Its purpose, according to the UN, is to protect and promote humanity鈥檚 most important cultural and natural monuments, from Machu Picchu in Peru to India鈥檚 Taj Mahal and Colorado鈥檚 Mesa Verde. It has been hailed for pulling back some of the world鈥檚 most iconic cultural sites from ruin and neglect, and promoting tourism.

But in many places, particularly in the developing world, the label has come with unintended consequences.

In Laung Prabang, a postcard-worthy royal city in Laos, and Stone Town, the Zanzibari city of winding cobblestone alleyways and carved doors, the spike in tourism drove up the price of real estate and forced out many longtime residents to make way for hotels and souvenir stores.听, the old town of Panama City, saw thousands of long-time residents evicted or displaced by brisk gentrification after its 1997 listing.

Like in Gor茅e, the tourism business in these sites is frequently dominated by outsiders, from the businesspeople bankrolling restaurants and hotels to tour guides from other parts of the country. Often, little money makes it back into local communities. Locals, meanwhile, often complain the flood of tourists seeking an authentic cultural experience has, ironically, made the sites less authentic.

鈥淭his is one of the most beautiful islands in this country, but the spirit of this place has transformed,鈥� says Modu Mballo, a lifelong Gor茅e resident who now squats in a rusted World War I bunker that he has transformed into an apartment and artists鈥� studio. 鈥淚鈥檝e lost my privacy, I鈥檝e lost my quietness, and for what?鈥�

How much history?

Historians have raised another quibble with Gor茅e鈥檚 , which claims that the island was 鈥渢he largest slave-trading centre on the African coast.鈥� Plaques hanging just inside the gates of the House of Slaves commemorate the 鈥渕illion of Africans鈥� who passed through its infamous 鈥渄oor of no return鈥� onto slaving ships.

That was the accepted story in the 1970s, when Gor茅e became a World Heritage Site as part of a drive by poet-president L茅opold Senghor to promote Senegal鈥檚 rich history and cultural traditions on a global stage, according to Eloi Coly, the curator of the House of Slaves.

By the 1990s, however, research had unearthed a new history. "There are literally no historians who believe the Slave House is what they鈥檙e claiming it to be, or that believe Gor茅e was statistically significant in terms of the slave trade," Ralph Austen, a historian and professor emeritus at the University of Chicago, in 2013, after President Obama visited the site. The House of Slaves, most historians now believe, . It may have housed slaves, but听its door of no return was likely a trash chute used to jettison garbage into the ocean outside.

鈥淚t鈥檚 true that nowadays people know more about the history of slavery [than in the 1970s], but if even one slave passed through Gor茅e it鈥檚 still something we should talk about and remember every day,鈥� argues Kabo Alioune, an assistant curator at the House of Slaves.

Heritage officials on Gor茅e have begun to quietly rebrand the island, speaking less of its particular role in the slave trade and more of the site as a 鈥減lace of memory鈥� for humanity to reflect on a dark chapter in its history, says Mr. Coly.

鈥淲e don鈥檛 teach the past so we can stand in the past听鈥� we do it so we can collectively build a better future,鈥� he says.

But while they promote memory, tourism authorities must also focus on how to make Gor茅e鈥檚 popularity work better for those who live there, says Mr. Sow, the mayor鈥檚 adviser.

The island is rich in history, after all, he says. 鈥淏ut we need to bring more richness to its people.鈥�

Thomas Faye contributed reporting. Ryan Lenora Brown鈥檚 reporting in Senegal was supported by the International Reporting Project.听