Me, Howling.

this is a poem I wrote a couple of years ago. It's inspired by Howl, by Allan Ginsberg. Not sure what people will think of it, but it's about time I put it out there.


ME, HOWLING.

I have seen the best minds of my generation
Cannibalised, anaesthetised by mundane mechanical
Monotony, engaged in worship of Macchiavelli
Without statues; clear headed confused fools
With mindless intelligence, only perpetuating the self,
Lodged in the present, over-caffeinated maniacs
So simple, so dull, an army of individuals,
Legions of learned people who refuse
To overtake their teachers,
Won't evolve, conscience absolved
In a sea of wires.

On the streets there is nothing.
Broken bottles are metaphors for nothing.
Forests of concrete symbolise nothing.

I have seen
Feminism flogged by its own advocates
Sluts stumbling with vomit in hair,
"How dare you stare!" they screech like harpies.
Graduation next week.

I have seen
Racism sidelined to subtlety and flashing,
Angry rants in explored but forgotten corners.
The march stopped. Everyone at ease for how long?

I have seen the non-conformists conform; everyone sucked back up.

I have seen men embark on quests and run aground on their
Own minds only to find they never left; they proclaim
Insanity but it is just vanity, the domain of fools making rules
With useless tools.

Skulls bashed in by bureaucracy and the ones who scream
Scream alone and silently on islands of distress and understanding.

I have seen conspiracy theories become reality and remain
Untrue.

So many invisible bonds of hope,
Strands of like minds
Severed by the hive mind,
And when new eyes
Peruse this page
They will burn with rage,
And criticise
My naiveté.

I have seen prescription drugs pumped into healthy bodies,
Whilst mind-openers are closed and sold by thugs, thus
misunderstood.

I have seen feral youths with blades become gangsters,
Haunting middle England so far away. But are we not all feral,
Collectively, sipping wine and using
Long words?
Devouring trees,
Slaughtering animals,
Towers everywhere
Up, up, up.
Bloated, scarring continents and
Choking skies.

We would rape the Sun if it were within our reach.

I have seen British blood valued more than
that of an anonymous child murdered
By bombs and greed. I have seen a
Nation too scared to look in the mirror,
But content to write
Vainglorious history,
Ignoring scribes who don't stick to the script.

the wise lay paths before the new batch
With clumsy hands, and hammer in
Signposts that scream destiny
In all directions.

I have seen
Angels demonised
By devils with dove wings
And plastic smiles
to hide hideous grins. Blind guides
Flapping forcing incoherent instructions
And rigid etiquette.
Nothing better yet.

I have seen men
Hypnotise the Gods and forget sobriety.

Just walk, walk
Until you find something
You were never looking for; dreams
Refrigerated or locked in dingy
Cupboards.

This is what I have seen.
Tell me, friend, what have you seen,
Beyond what you were taught,
And what you have bought?

The Quest.

I was watching an excellent documentary about Bruce Chatwin the other day on BBC 4, when the great travel writer said something that stuck with me. He said it is necessary to have an objective when one travels; a goal to work towards, however trivial it may seem. These words got me thinking. My objective was simply to meander around the continent of South America, essentially hopping from one tourist destination to another, and perhaps do some volunteer work. None of these plans were set in stone, and I certainly didn't consider any of them as an "objective."

So, I have drawn up a list of quests which we must complete during my time in South America. They are relatively understated and definitely achievable, (I have written previously about how much I despise ludicrous challenge setting!) but there will be no penalty if I "fail." It's just a bit of fun.

So, here's the list of my quests:

- Hold a monkey.
- Visit the ancient fortress of Kuelap in Northern Peru.
- With the exception of seeing the Nazca lines, air travel is forbidden.
- Learn at least one Latin dance to a credible level of proficiency.
- Bird watch on the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, in the Andes and the Amazon.
- Complete a trek in Patagonia, and in the Cordillera Blanca.
- Visit the town of Mompos in Colombia, a place where time has stood still.
- Volunteer with WWOOF in Argentina, and Inti Wari Yassi in Bolivia.
- Reach Tierra Del Fuego, the end of the world.
- Travel down the Amazon river in a boat.

If anyone has any suggestions for more quests, (within reason - I'm not going to wrestle a crocodile or try and find El Dorado!) let me know and I'll endeavour to accomplish it!

Inventory

I have been perusing a lot of traveller's blogs and home-made travel websites, and it seems the travelling community likes nothing more than to tell people what to take with them on their journeys. What to take ranks as one of the most popular subjects for didactic, patronising people to spout their "wisdom," advising people on the most inane matters, like whether taking shoes to Thailand is a good idea. But, it seems that people do actually need help. One poor sod, writing on Lonely Planet's Thorn Tree forum, asked whether taking a backpack to Peru was a good idea, and as his backpack was orange, would it attract thieves? WTF!? Backpacks, I informed him, are a waste of time compared to a stick and a bundle like old tramps used to have, and yes, thieves, like magpies, are drawn to shiny objects.

So, with people clearly in dire need, I thought I would share my thoughts with that most tricky of matters: the inventory.

Reams of advice on the net and in books range from the obvious to the absurd - one bloke somewhere on our planet is so obsessed with having a lighter rucksack than everyone else he actually tears pages out of books as he reads. The obscenity! If I ever see anyone doing that I will mumble under my breath at them so much they will rue the day.

My own big weakness when travelling is the amount of books I carry. I always have at least five, and even the thin ones are heavy blighters, filled as they are with words and such. But, I'd rather have something to read (and swap with other travellers) than be able to boast about how many kilograms I shaved off my total weight.

I have packed for my trip in September, and most of what I have suits the kind of stuff I'll be doing. I wouldn't expect anyone else to have the same inventory as me, because nobody else will be doing exactly what I will be doing. I am a big camper, so obviously I have my tent, stove and sleeping bag. I know the climate of the areas I will be visiting, so I have corresponding clothing. It's common sense.

A lot of horror stories about robberies and even gruesome murders are circulating the web alongside these ridiculous assertions about what to take. South America still suffers from a misconception about crime. Mention Colombia to someone and their eyes will widen with fear. This leads to people not wanting to take expensive or sentimental items away with them, and being scared of straying too far from tourist areas. So, backpackers are shepherded around countries, and they are not as independent and free as they like to think. Obviously bad things happen to good people, I'm not that naive, but the stories of kindness and courage, heroism and compassion that occur so much more often on the road seem to be overshadowed by the tales of disaster and misfortune. We honour virtue but do not talk about it. This is a shame. I know many people who judge a country based on the actions of one individual who robbed or conned them. I was robbed 4 times in 5 months when I was last in Peru, and people tried to rob me many more times. But, Peru is still one of the most beautiful, wondrously enchanting places I have ever been. I love the country, I love the people, and I can't wait to return. An open mind is what is needed.

Travelling is not difficult. This is a truth that a lot of traveller's don't want to accept. Waiting around for a bus that never arrives, or walking around a city looking for a hostel in the dead of night is frustrating, and can be wearisome, but it is not hard. Trekking is hard, travelling is easy. People try to make out that backpacking is such a testing endeavour, and spouting nonsense about the fabricated difficulties of packing is a symptom of this. You just need patience to be able to travel.

Surely the best advice is take what you want, what you will need, and how much you can carry? People sneer at others who bring luxury items on their travels, but if you can't live without straight hair, put your straighteners in your backpack! Who cares what anyone else thinks. If you can't survive in the wilderness without a laptop, bring it along. There are no rules, yet travellers insist on trying to invent them.

So, to conclude, the most important things you need to take with you when travelling are: common sense, an open mind and patience.

Spanish 101

Hola! The title of this post may be a little misleading; I'm not actually going to teach you any Spanish. If you want to learn, buy a dictionary, join a class or Californian gang, or travel to a Spanish speaking nation! What this post is about is what I believe, in my modest opinion, to be the best way to learn Spanish, or most languages for that matter.

When I first went to Peru, as I have already said in an earlier post, I didn't know any Spanish. My linguistic ability comprised the following: a C in A level French, (which is about as unimpressive as it sounds...I can tell you where my pencil case is, what time the train leaves and directions to the swimming pool!) an A* in Latin GCSE, (I remember practically no Latin except baculum - a stick) and a native speaker's grasp of English!

So, before we began teaching English in Pacaran, we had a two week crash course in elementary Spanish, but essentially we had to pick the language up as we went along. This is the best way to learn any language in my opinion. Within 6 months my Spanish ability was vastly superior to my French, which I had studied in stifling classrooms for seven years. I am astonished at how quickly immigrants in Britain pick up our language, even complex slang, but after learning Spanish in similar circumstances - not in class but on the streets and in everyday situations - it is easy to see how people learn languages so quickly - it's simply about survival.

My friend Will and I became part of our village community because we could interact with the locals. The two girls who were teaching in the neighbouring village struggled to fit in because they could not speak Spanish. We all started out as equals - no experience with the language whatsoever, but where Will and I thrived, the girls failed. I believe the reason for this is what is most crucial when learning a new language: confidence.

I wasn't confident when I first started speaking Spanish, until an elderly gentleman in Pacaran said I'd enjoy myself more if I wasn't scared of making mistakes. Hearing that was a revelation. It struck me that most foreigners speaking English will make grammatical slip-ups (my Iranian mother-in-law still gets he/she confused after 25 years!) or use the wrong words, but because of context, intonation and the instinct to know where a conversation is going, it is relatively unimportant. It is the same with Spanish...Will and I knew that we weren't speaking perfectly, but the locals understood, and we weren't embarrassed. The girls, on the other hand, suffered from a crippling shyness and would clam up and not speak unless absolutely necessary. In Lima and more cosmopolitan areas they would simply revert to English. Will and I however would carry on with our broken Spanish, making mistake after mistake. Below are some highlights:

* Asking for a slice of kaka instead of queque (pronounced keke). Queque is cake. Kaka is Peruvian Spanish for shit. The woman simply stared.

* When telling someone my age, I said "tengo 18 annos," which means "I have 18 arseholes." I was trying to say "I am 18 years old."

* Papa rellena (stuffed potato) is a Peruvian delicacy. It is simply a baked potato hollowed out and stuffed with your filling of choice. Papa is a Quechua word, and half a millennium after the conquistadores vanquished the Incas, the Peruvian vernacular is still littered with indigenous words. Papa in Spanish is colloquial for Father. the intonation differs between papa (potato) and Papa (father). therefore, I asked for a stuffed Father.

So, that's Spanish 101. Just throw yourself in and have a go! It doesn't matter if you make a fool out of yourself, talk jibberish or go round in circles. The locals will find it endearing and every conversation you have takes you one step closer to being proficient at the language.