Posts Tagged ‘South America’

43. Reading the book about the place

Monday, August 2nd, 2010

alex-garlands-the-beachBackpackers are a pretentious lot. Actually, people who travel, in general, are full of shit. Some will tell you they’ve lived somewhere, but they were really just visiting. Or they’ve been to a place, but were actually just on a layover there, and didn’t leave the airport. These types of people insist they are into photography, global culture, art, film, music, and of course literature.

They’re remarkably insecure, which is why they constantly attempt to reaffirm their sense of enlightenment on all topics. “Have you see that movie?” Oh yeah, it’s fantastic. “Have you been to…” Yes, three times. “Have you seen Buddha?” Mm-hmm, when I was in Cambodia. “Are you better than me?” (Unspoken: Yes.)

Just as they will refuse to see the movie before they read the book, they won’t travel somewhere without having read THE book about it. Some will be leafing through the book while on the plane, train or bus en route to the place. But make no mistake, there is only ONE BOOK you simply must read before you go somewhere. Some examples:

Thailand: The Beach
No book has tickled the global backpacker imagination as much as this Alex Garland neo-classic, and the Leo DiCaprio movie didn’t hurt either. Poignant use of Nintendo metaphors amid differing interpretations of “paradise” and the “parasites” trying to find it ring true for anybody born after 1970. Ko Phi Phi has the movie to thank for the millions of parasites that descend upon it every year.

Spain: The Sun Also Rises
What Garland has done for Generation X, Hemingway did for young people in the 20s and 30s, members of the “Lost Generation.” His book is still doing it today. After all, the book is about love, partying and living overseas in France and Spain, so it should come as no surprise that it inspires countless readers to pack up and give it a go. Just as DiCaprio put Ko Phi Phi on the map, Hemingway informed the world of Pamplona’s frenzied San Fermin Festival.

India: Midnight’s Children
I tried reading this a few years ago and couldn’t get past the first 70 pages. If Rushdie were employing his own version of “magical realism,” I wish he would have used less magic and more realism. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. It was convoluted and senseless. Maybe if I finally get to India, it will all become clear… or at least I could find some enlightened backpackers who would be able explain it to me.

South America: 100 Years of Solitude
This book confirmed it for me: I’m not a huge fan of magical realism. Too much extraneous detail. But just like you have to try the chicken feet at the dim sum restaurant, you have to read Marquez if you want to do right by South American literature. Thankfully, the copy I bought didn’t have the Oprah’s Book Club logo on it. I’m pretentious like that.

Vietnam: The Quiet American
Like Hemingway and Orwell, Greene is a foreign correspondent-turned author who likes the sauce and in this case, opium. F.E.T. enthusiasts (i.e. white guys who like Asian chicks) will dig the protagonist, who locks down a primo local gal and enjoys the spoils of expat life and moral superiority during Vietnam’s French colonial war in the early 1950s.

The United States: On The Road
Garland to Generation X = Hemingway to Lost Generation = Kerouac to Beat Generation. The underlying theme to this wanderer’s journal is that it’s fun to hang with arty rich kids who drink booze like it’s water, listen to black music and drive wildly down the open highway. Sounds a lot like the backpacking scene to me. Oh and that San Francisco was the shit in the 50s. Still is today.

Any other geographically-specific books you’ve seen while traveling? There are tons. Please post comments to let me know which ones you’ve run into.

19. Coming Home with a Lame Accent

Saturday, August 1st, 2009

I’m happy for you that you had a good time in Australia, but do you really have to ask me “How are you going, mate?” every time you see me now? I respond better to variations of  ”What’s up?” or “How’s it going?” or even ”How are you doing, bro/buddy/friend?”

It’s not “no worries,” it’s no problem. And when you say thank you or you’re welcome, just say it. None of this “cheers” stuff. “Cheers mate,” is even worse.

You’re not Australian. It’s not cute. You sound ridiculous.

You’re not English either, even though you did a semester abroad in Leeds. Quit calling your apartment your “flat,” your roommates “flatmates,” dudes ”blokes,” and trying to use some semblance of Cockney slang. You don’t sound cool like The Streets or the guys on Lock Stock.

It’s cool or awesome, not “brilliant!!” That chick is ugly, not “mingin.” And when you get takeout it’s takeout. Quit calling it “takeaway,” you pretentious prick.

It’s just because  it’s English that people think they can get away with it. You don’t see people coming back from internships in South America or France and carelessly speaking to their friends back home in Spanish or French.  There’s a reason for that. If they did, people would just stare at them blankly like they’re some kind of freak, and rightfully so.

People who drove overseas on the left side of the road for an extended period of time don’t come home and unintentionally veer into oncoming traffic. Please refrain from pulling a linguistic James Bond behind the wheel with me.

You’re from here. Cut the crap. You’re not a charming alien. It’s OK. Tell us the stories, show us the photos, but please leave the accent where you found it. It belongs to actual charming aliens.

You’re not “taking the piss out of” me, you’re making fun of/mocking/fucking with me.

Also, don’t beenou to us whimsically about places we’ve never heard of or stores we’ve never shopped in in foreign countries we’ve never visited. We don’t give a shit (see 4. Nobody Gives a S#%&). All of these things require explanations. Tell me “Boots” is like “Shoppers Drug Mart” or “Walgreens” before you carry on with some banal anecdote, complete with senseless tangents, about a typical day for you in England.