Maybe it’s all a dream

Renato Marques

Cinderella had just married the prince when she woke up.

One moment, she was standing in a bright palace hall, wearing a silver wedding dress. The prince was holding her hand, and hundreds of guests were cheering. The next moment, she opened her eyes and found herself lying beside the cold fireplace in her stepmother’s kitchen.

For a few seconds, Cinderella did not move. The ashes beneath her cheek were real. Her old dress was torn and dirty, and a pile of unwashed dishes waited beside the sink.

There was no tiara on her head, no ring on her finger, and no glass slippers on her feet. It had all been a dream.

The fairy godmother, the pumpkin carriage, the royal ball, and the prince existed only in her imagination, as did the happiness she had felt.

At first, she felt heartbroken. In her dream, someone had finally rescued her. The prince had chosen her, the glass slipper had proved her identity, and her suffering had ended forever. Now she was back where she had begun, surrounded by ashes and harsh orders.

Still, Cinderella began to think more carefully about the dream. The magic had changed her clothes, but it had not created her kindness, courage, or intelligence. Those qualities had always been hers.

Perhaps the dream had not promised that a prince would save her. Perhaps it was just a way for her brain to show her that she was capable of saving herself.

Macau might be just like this Cinderella, living a dream, blinded by promises of amazing times to come while reality shows itself differently. Maybe many are too “blinded” by the dream to see or dismiss the pieces of harsh reality presented to us every day, some days more than others.

As the old saying goes, “If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.”

Some will say this is a pessimistic view, but the thing is, those who say that are the same ones who want “dreamy” views to keep thriving … in harmony.

The same goes for Macau’s new addiction to non-local “influencers.”

Both the government and the private sector invest significant amounts in bringing in these so-called and self-entitled Key Opinion Leaders (KOLs), but are they really?

What is their effect, really? Do they attract new visitors? (And by new, I mean different from the ones we already have.)

In reality, no one can tell, since it’s hard to quantify this alleged influence, and, let’s be honest, nobody really wants to because they fear the result.

But maybe, just maybe, like this Cinderella, there is a wake-up call to be made. Maybe we do not need the “prince” (or princess) to change our fate; we can do it on our own too.

Because who knows Macau better and can provide the best insights about the places to visit, where to get the best food, drinks, and souvenirs better than LOCAL PEOPLE?

“Travel like a local” is a worldwide trend, which is why most mobile apps offer this “connection” with “the locals that know better.” So why are we going against this idea again?

Is this yet another case of Macau’s infamous “inferiority complex”?

I say the change is easy and could begin with a single word: “No.”