Thursday, 17 June 2010

Back to Blighty...

An interesting news story that you may have heard about in the last month is the case of two guys in Malawi who were sentenced by Malawi’s courts to 14 years imprisonment for being gay. They were subsequently pardoned by the president after immense pressure by the international donor community , human rights groups and, ultimately, Ban Ki-moon, the UN General Secretary. Now, as someone that grew up in a reasonably liberal society I certainly don’t agree with the conviction, but there are so many ironic aspects to this story, on both sides, that I feel they are worthy of mention.

First, the fact that the British government were getting involved, warning that aid to Malawi would be restricted if the laws of the country were not changed, when the law that was used to convict the two guys was a British law dating back to the colonial days...we forget that it’s not so long ago that you could go to prison in the UK for being openly gay... Next, is the fact that men share a very close relationship with other men in Malawi due, in part, to the ‘separation’ of men and women (a womans place is still very much in the home) – most bars and clubs that you go to are frequented only by men and a few prostitutes – when you look on the dancefloor you see a lot of men dancing very closely together, hugging and holding hands. If you took a snap-shut you would think you were in a gay club, and yet, if you question any of the men what they thought about the gay conviction, 99% would support it and claim that homosexuality is a disease from America/the West. They will claim that it goes against their culture, indeed, against African culture – an imported disease/idea from the West...and yet I feel that the root cause of a lot of the homophobic attitudes actually come from the West, via Christian bible teaching. Malawi, like many other African countries, is bursting with ‘missionaries’, particularly evangelical churches from America – strict conservatives who empathise the ‘one man – one woman’ relationship and that homosexuality is wrong. Almost all Malawians go to church and really follow and believe what is preached – no questions asked. [having said that, the ‘one man – one woman’ idea doesn’t seem to have taken hold that much...!]. Finally, after all the noise that human rights groups around the world were making, telling the two convicted gays to stand up for their beliefs and condemning the Malawian government for its actions, one of the recently released ‘gays’ has promptly married a woman ‘pleasuring her up to 4 times a night’ according to the national newspaper here... So, it seems, he wasn’t gay after all...maybe he was just after his 15 minutes in the spotlight...or maybe he was given a pill in prison to cure him of his ‘disease’...?!?!?

A few amusing ‘only in Africa’ moments from the last 4 months:

Squash matches being temporarily interrupted by bats...then birds...and finally cockroaches on the court..!

Golf matches being temporarily interrupted by monkeys running across the green...!

Getting stopped by police, reprimanded for not having my driving license on me...then entering into a 20 minute discussion about why I am not married, and that I need to hurry up and get a wife...apparently not being married at my age was worse than violating traffic laws..

Getting stopped by the police, again, and charged £20 for an insurance sticker falling off my windscreen...until eventually negotiating a £4 bribe after a 40 minute stand-off...

Taking a road trip with a Malawian friend in a car that had recently returned from being repaired after a fairly serious accident...the airbag in the steering wheel and dash-board having been ‘stiched’ together...the windscreen wiper lever missing, promptly starts raining and having to operate the wipers by holding two pieces of exposed wire together to make a connection (and several sparks)...noticing a knocking noise getting progressively worse, until I pulled over in the middle of nowhere in the dark and rain to find that the mechanic who had ‘fixed’ the car after the accident hadn’t tightened the wheel nuts correctly – the wheel was almost hanging off!...then discovering there were no tools in the car – ...waiting an hour for my friends brother to turn up with some tools, only for him to forget the tools and have to go back to get them..!

Sitting in a restaurant and watching as slowly, very slowly, the waitress wipes the left-over food on the table directly into your lap...ordering food in restaurants and not getting it...ordering food in restaurants and not getting what you ordered...

Complete and utter apathy from anyone delivering a ‘service’...even when you are going to pay them for this service and the service is to do exactly what they are paid to do anyway...

...but that’s Africa and I love it!

So, back I head to Blighty, after another incredible 4 months in another beautiful country. This time I really would like to settle back in London for a while, to earn some money (almost 24 months without earning a bean now!), to re-forge friendships and put into practice the lessons and experience I have gained over the last 2 years of adventures. Signing off.

Friday, 7 May 2010

Living in a Bubble

As mentioned in my previous blog, I am living in an incredible house, with a huge veranda, garden and swimming pool. I have a cook and a security guard. I have access to a car and the majority of my friends are ex-pats. I’m having a great time...but I’m living in a bubble, a complete bubble. This is truly the other end of the ‘African experience’ scale compared to my time in Uganda and, while I’m certainly enjoying myself, I really don’t feel that comfortable. It confirms the opinion I formed when I was in Uganda – I couldn’t live in Africa long-term. Living in a village in Uganda was an incredible experience...but, ultimately, I missed showers, toilets and ovens... Living here, in a big house in Malawi, is also an incredible experience, but it just doesn’t feel real – it doesn’t feel quite right. So many of the population struggle to get access to clean drinking water, and I’m flopping about in my own swimming pool. Don’t get me wrong, I’m incredibly thankful for the opportunity to be here and, as you’ll read below, I really feel like I’m making a positive impact, however small, through the work I’m doing...but I couldn’t live here long term, cut-off from most of the ‘real’ people in the country...

...I was chatting to a friend of mine online recently and she was asking me to compare South America to Africa and which one I preferred – and I had to say South America. Why? Not because the sights in Africa are any less impressive, or the countries are less culturally interesting (in many ways they are more so), but more because I feel like I can just ‘fit’ in South America (once the Spanish is nailed) – you can merge, fully-integrate, become a local...but here, you can never really ‘fit’ – you can never really be considered as an equal with the locals – you are always going to stand out, always going to be considered different and, ultimately, I can’t live my life in that way. It’s important to integrate, to feel comfortable in your environment and to feel equal because, after all, we are all equals – no matter your job, the amount of money you have, your religion, or the colour of your skin – we are all equal!

Sorry, not a particularly original point on which to end those rambling paragraphs...I guess, as with the conclusions I drew from my musings last year, it just proves that someone, somewhere has gone through everything you are going through in your life and, thus, has drawn the same conclusions before... as the human race continues it’s getting increasingly hard to be original..!!

So..work..aside from ‘flopping about in my pool(!)’ I have been working incredibly hard. We have now basically set-up a consultancy company – complete with methodology, templates and processes (Accenture eat-your-heart-out!). I have just completed my first client assignment – producing a business and marketing plan for a private college offering courses in accountancy and business. Not the most exciting business, you may think, but it was a really interesting experience, not least working with, and mentoring, the apprentice consultants that we are training. I received great feedback from the client and the apprentices and I feel like I am finally doing what I thought consultancy was all about before I joined the juggernaut of Accenture – I am having a real and direct impact on businesses – helping them with planning and strategy – making tangible changes that will directly improve their businesses and increase their profits. Yes, spreadsheets are still involved, but this time they are recording cash flow, revenue and expenses, not simply tracking the ‘RAG’ status of project activities.. (apologies for those that have no idea what I am talking about – in essence I’m enjoying what I’m doing, I’m making an impact, I’m doing what I wanted to do when I chose consultancy as a career choice – I’m helping to improve the performance of a business and, thus, the lives of the owners, through direct and practical advice. It feels pretty good and I am feeling something I lost a long time ago with this profession – I feel passionate about what I’m doing).

Something else I’m feeling passionate about is the impending World Cup in South Africa! World Cup fever is well and truly taking hold here and, having extended my stay until mid-June, I am going to at least experience the first few games of the competition In Africa – it’s going to be a cracking atmosphere, can’t wait!

On the social side I have been making the most of my weekends – this really is a beautiful country (see pics). Nothing quite beats driving into a game park in the same vehicle you use to drive to work and coming face-to-face with a ruddy great elephant!! This weekend I am off to climb a mountain to celebrate my birthday in style...29...bloody ‘ell...!!

Sunday, 14 March 2010

Back to Africa...

So, here I am, back in deepest, darkest Africa...this time in the ‘warm heart of the continent’ – Malawi. Yep, after 6 months back in Blighty I decided to pack my bags again and head to Malawi after an opportunity came up to work on a development initiative funded by the Scottish government (oddly, the Scottish parliament have their own development fund separate to the UK-wide DFID fund...something, I suspect, with them wanting to think they are independent nation - bless 'em..!!).

The idea of the project is to train a small group of Malawians in the principles of being Business Consultants to serve the thriving MSME sector in Malawi (MSME = Micro, Small and Medium sized enterprises...’Micro’ being one or two man bands...Medium being up to 100 employees). So, myself and a couple of other consultants are out here putting the training materials together whilst also meeting with prospective clients in the MSME sector to tee-up some work. The training programme will be a mixture of classroom based training and ‘on-the-job’ training (i.e. we will work with the Malawian guys on consulting assignments to build their practical skills and apply what they are learning in the classroom). It’s a 2 year programme, with the intention of different UK consultants coming out every 3 months...my initial contract is, thus, just for 3 months.

It’s a really interesting project, well, it is for me anyway, and kind of ties in with what we do with wannabeamazin out in Uganda – the idea of our wannabeamazin programmes is to encourage creativity in the children which we target. A big problem in Africa, in my opinion, that I noted in Uganda and is apparent here too, is that the way children are educated here really stifles creativity. It is based on the English system 100 years ago – everything is dictated by the teacher and the students simply copy the lessons down word-for-word and learn it ‘parrot-fashion’. I really feel strongly that the governments here need to do a huge review of the education system and teaching methods because what this produces is a workforce that can only do what they are told, following rules or simply copying others.

Conversely, people here are very entrepreneurial – much more so than in the UK, partly, I think, out of necessity due to low-wages. Almost everyone has some kind of business (hence the thriving MSME sector) - even if they are employed, everyone you meet will be selling something to supplement their income. The issue, and one that our programme is looking to tackle, is that knowledge of basic business principles is not that high and creativity is also lacking...culturally, too, people are disadvantaged as it is not in their nature to ‘plan’ – again this is partly due to the hand-to-mouth existence that many people live here – but, when it comes to business, it causes problems as the old adage of having to ‘speculate to accumulate’ is not ingrained into their psyche. (Of course, as with any stereotypes, I am generalising, I am not saying this applies to everyone here, and those that are fortunate enough to go to higher education are a different kettle of fish...but, in my experiences, I would say it’s the majority of the population).

Another cause of the apparent lack of creativity is more a consequence of lack of exposure to different ideas that provide the spark for a new way of thinking. One of the elders in Bajjo village in Uganda made this point to me last time I was there – and I think it is extremely valid. The majority of people here do not travel, rather they cannot travel due to lack of funds. People in rural areas will often only go as far as the next village or the nearest town in their lifetimes...even people that have grown up in the cities will only move in the particular region in which they are born (unless they are part of the small elite that can afford to travel abroad). The lack of exposure to new ideas, new concepts, different cultures and different ways of doing things, something that we absolutely take for granted in the West, indeed something that is very hard to appreciate because it is so ‘normal’ for us, is definitely a barrier for inspiration. Even those people that don’t travel outside their own country in the West are still exposed to an incredible array of different ideas through the medium of television, books and, of course, the internet. But most people here don’t have tv’s, they don’t have access to the internet and, due to lack of access to books, there is simply not a reading culture here (something we are attempting to tackle in Bajjo with wannabeamazin). People don’t seek to ‘teach’ themselves through books, people ‘know what they know’, or they learn through what they see others doing.

This environment leads to a lot of ‘copy-cat’ businesses – someone sees their neighbour selling tomatoes and making a bit of money, so they copy and also start selling tomatoes, rather than perhaps complement what their neighbour is doing and sell cucumbers – nothing wrong with that, but it means the markets are way over supplied, forcing prices down and spreading potential profits over a large number of people. Furthermore, people focus on the revenue they receive from sales, rather than focussing on profit...often resulting in profit margins being extremely low or even, in some cases, non-existent. So our programme is looking to address some of these issues by working with small businesses on the planning aspects and build the capacity of small business owners...as well as providing some locals with the ‘skills’ to continue providing this kind of consultancy service once we leave at the end of the 2 year funding. The ‘creativity’ aspect is, unfortunately, a much harder one to address...

So, anyway, what have I been up to since I arrived 3 weeks ago?...well, it was a bloody hectic start - talk about hitting the ground running – I flew in on 17th February - a Wednesday afternoon - I had dinner with the former high-commissioner to Malawi on Wednesday night, met the Scottish Minister for culture and external affairs on the Thursday morning (at the official launch of the programme I am working on), met 2 potential clients on the Friday and spent the rest of the weekend on the toilet feeling like shit...a year in South America and Uganda and not even a cold...2 days here and I was bed-ridden...the cause? - believing, blindly, the ex-pats and locals who swore to me the tap water was safe to drink....! Hmm, maybe if you've lived here for a few months...but not straight off the plane I think!

The second weekend was all together more pleasant – a trip to Lake Malawi (a huge lake that runs almost the entire length of the country), a spot called Cape MaClear - think sun, clear water, white sand beaches and wooden fishing boats... The rest of my time, when not in work, has been spent getting to grips with driving in Africa (we have a project car) – pot holes, dark streets, pedestrians and questionable driving practices – moving into the project house – huge veranda, massive garden and a swimming pool! – getting used to having a cook and cleaner (im certainly not slumming here – completely the other end of the scale compared to my time in Uganda) – investigating the local markets - tasting the local delicacies (still not sure what I ate, think it was the intestines of some animal), and getting involved in a local running club...

Summary: so far, so good!

Friday, 26 June 2009

Due South (+ Bonus Section: A Years Worth of Musing!)

After tearing myself away from Columbia (what a country), I crossed into Ecuador to start my long journey South to Buenos Aires for my plane home. I had been in Ecuador before (3 years ago with Morris) so on this occasion I was content with just hitting the capital, Quito, and a pretty colonial town I had missed on my first visit – Cuenca. In Quito I met up with a crazy Dutch guy I had first encountered on the “Lost City” trek in Columbia. We had a great time “salsaring” our way through the bars and nightclubs of Quito – a city that I am actually very fond of. It has a beautiful setting in the middle of a valley, surrounded by mountains and, despite its reputation as a danger hot spot, I found the locals to be very friendly… I had a good time in Cuenca too – museums, wandering aimlessly (I love to do this when I arrive in a new city) and salsa were the order of the day.

At this stage I must point out that I consider myself a fairly experienced “traveler” having spent the best part of 2 years of my life, all-in-all, on the road with a backpack (including my 6 months in Uganda). But, it seems, even the self-proclaimed “experienced” traveler can get scammed…the defense I put forward in this case is that I was tired and, more importantly, so used to the friendliness and helpfulness of the Columbians, that I dropped my guard – and this, I believe, was the ultimate factor in getting led into this trap…

As I crossed from Ecuador to Peru I stopped, as formality demands, to get my exit stamp at the immigration office in Ecuador – it was here that a young guy started talking to me in a mixture of Spanish and English. He was very friendly and told me that he would show me where the ‘collectivos’ (shared taxis) were to cross into Peru, and beyond to the town of Tumbes (where I was aiming to get a bus to Mancora – a beach resort in Northern Peru). When we arrived at the border he helped me retrieve my bag from the bottom of the bus and told me to follow him. He asked if I needed to change money, which of course I did need to, and a guy walked over with a wad of cash (changing cash on the street at border crossings is normal everywhere so I didn’t think anything of it). I changed $60 and continued following my new companion – he introduced me to another guy – the collectivo driver – who was quick to show me his ID (I thought this was strange – its not normal, especially for legitimate drivers!) but I was keen to get across the border quickly and to my destination before dark. I got in the car and we were quickly joined by another man who got in the passenger seat and seemed to be friends with the driver. I asked how much it would be “$1.50 to the border” they replied, that was the price I expected, “And a little bit more to Tumbes” they added – now at this point I, of course, should have confirmed how much the “little bit more” would be, but stupidly I didn’t. So off we went, chatting like old friends, I got my Peru entry stamp and, as we set off for Tumbes, the question of money came up….”So how much more” I asked, expecting $4 or $5…”$20” they replied…And so ensued an argument, one I didn’t want to push too much as I was in a car alone (a collectivo normally fills up with people before it sets off..something else I had thought was strange, but ignored at the border) with two men, in the middle of no-mans land! Upon arrival in Tumbes we were at stalemate, they demanded $20, I was adamant that I wouldn’t pay it (I love how, when traveling, you are quite happy to put yourself in a life threatening situation in order to save a couple of pounds!...for me it’s the principle of it!). In the end, after a stand off when insults were hurled from both sides in Spanish, I parted with about $15 (the normal price, I learnt subsequently, is $7). I was annoyed, but thought ‘bov’, at least I got out unharmed with all my possessions. However, as I purchased my ticket for the bus to Mancora the hammer blow hit - the money was fake, the $60 I had changed on the border was fake – and then it all made sense, they were part of a chain – the young guy at the Ecuador immigration office, the money changer and the collectivo drivers – bollocks, I’d been had. I was annoyed, but quickly reminded myself that, in a whole year of travel, including Africa, this was the first time I’d really been screwed. My “experienced traveler” pride was dented, but in the grand scheme of things $60 is not much considering I’ve traveled through, supposedly, some of the most dangerous countries in the world in the last few months!

So…Peru…I first visited Peru 6 years ago, and on this visit I really noticed the difference – things are changing fast…changing for the better? – who knows – but certainly moving ‘forward’ in the Western sense of the word. There is still a hell of a lot of poverty in Peru, but the infrastructure has vastly improved in the last 6 years. It made me think about Africa, Uganda in particular, and something that Chris Patten (former Governor of Hong Kong) had said to Karl before departing to Uganda last year (Karl works on Harley Street in London and meets a lot of famous/VIP types…including Claudia Schiffer..well almost). Chris Patten, through his governmental responsibilities, has traveled extensively in Africa and Asia over the last 30-40 years, and a comment that he made to Karl has stuck in my mind ever since – “The difference between Africa and Asia is that everytime I return to Asia I notice that it has changed, that it is moving ‘forward’, but every time I return to Africa I don’t notice a difference and, if anything, its going backwards”. To explore this statement, and the reasons behind it, would take a whole book, so I’m not going to go there now(!), suffice to say that South America is firmly in the ‘Asian Camp’ in terms of ‘progress’ (as well as Peru I noticed a huge difference in Chile compared to 6 years ago)...anyway, I digress!

Mancora was, exactly what it says on the tin – a beach and not much else apart from the beach – “small and dusty”, is the best way to describe the town. But it was hot and the hostal I stayed in had a really nice swimming pool (hostals are changing too!), so it was nice to chill out for a couple of days (when in the ‘compound’ of the hostal it felt like I was on a package holiday in Spain – a strange feeling after 6 months on the road).

Next stop was Trujillo – the third largest city in Peru, and home to a good friend (Nora) I had met in Buenos Aires at the start of my trip. I spent 6 fantastic days with Nora and her family, exploring the local pre-inca ruins (including an amazing adobe – mud-brick – palace and city) as well as really experiencing Peruvian family life and Peruvian food (ceviche being my favourite – basically fresh, raw fish in lemon juice – beats sushi hands down). It was a brilliant 6 days and I was sad to leave.

The final stop in Peru was Lima – I had two days in Lima and got a look at the two extremes of the social spectrum in the capital. On Saturday I met up with a couple of friends I had encountered in Brazil and headed to a birthday party in a very rich neighbourhood. If you have ever watched the sickening MTV programme “My Sweet 16th”, you will get a picture of what the party was like – big house, swimming pool, dj, marquee, free bar, free food, waiters in tuxedos…and the guy was only 18! Ok, so it wasn’t anywhere near those disgusting “Sweet 16th” parties, but considering I was in Peru it was pretty damn extravagant…still, it was good to see my friends. Sunday was completely different, and altogether more real.

6 years ago, on my first visit to Peru, I joined a tour for 3 weeks. I quickly learnt that I was not a ‘tour person’, but the guide was brilliant, a really nice guy, and we often ended up going for beers after the rest of the group had gone to bed. Anyway, I had been trying to get hold of his contact details for the last 2 months from the tour company in England, but had received no response. However, whilst walking around Lima on the Saturday I started to recognize places and streets (my visual memory is pretty good), when I stumbled across a plaza that I definitely recognised. (It was at this point that I assumed the role of Jason Bourne…errr, ok, so I’m reading Bourne Supremacy at the moment and might be getting carried away…but, honestly, this was Bourne-esque!) Images flashed through my mind and, following my instincts, I retraced steps I had taken 6 years previously and managed to find the small hotel I had stayed in (bearing in my mind I had no road name or hotel name to go on). I walked in and asked the receptionist if they knew a tour guide called ‘Dante’, who was from the highlands of Peru, had a tattoo of his son on his arm, and had stayed in the hotel with a tour group 6 years ago (the only information I could recall!). He said he had the number of 2 guides with the name of Dante. I called one and, low and behold, it was the right one – chances – Bourne would have been proud! We arranged to meet at 1pm the next day (incredibly Dante was just finishing a tour and returning to Lima that evening) and what followed was a fantastic day with Dante and his family in their house (it was fathers day) and two separate street parties attended soley by people from the highlands of Peru – among the poorest of the residents in Lima. Weird costumes, even weirder dancing…and copious amounts of alcohol - it’s the custom that one glass is shared by the group you are with and this is filled, consumed and passed to the next person as quickly as possible! It was a great day, completely unique, completely authentic and, by the end of it, completely drunk! These are the kind of experiences I really treasure when traveling. Thanks Dante.

And here I am, back where it all started, in the incredible, alluring, addictive city of Buenos Aires. I took a flight from Lima and, as soon as the plane touched down, I started smiling – I just love this city. It’s been an amazing 6 months, full of incredible experiences and, you may ask, what about the Spanish??! Well, I can certainly get by – buying food, drinks, bus tickets, hotel rooms is not a problem…and, I can, now, have a conversation in Spanish, albeit a very slow, simple conversation in Spanish! The 2 months in Portuguese speaking Brazil didn’t help, but I’m getting there, and I’m more determined than ever to continue studying and learning this beautiful language on my return.

******** Bonus Section - Summary of a Years Worth of Musing ********

I’ve had a lot of time to think over the course of this incredible year in my life. A lot of time to look at myself, at my life, at who I am, at where I’m heading and, ultimately, at what life’s about. I haven’t come up with any radically new ideas or theories, but I have started to fully understand some that have been banded around by philosophers, religious leaders, poets and popstars(!) alike over the last 1000 years or so.

This life is the only one you will live – no, the possibility of reincarnation is not entirely lost on me (on the contrary, I have started to think this is a real possibility), but I do believe that the current life you are living is the only one you will remember – the only one you are consciously aware of. You may well have been the Queen of Sheeba, Albert Einstein, or a butterfly, in a former life, but you can’t really remember it can you? You have to (and I apologise now that this last post is going to be full of cheesy clichés) “live life to the fullest”. Everything in life is an experience –and you should embrace each experience, learn from it, and move on. Don’t waste your time and energy getting angry/upset/mad/sad/depressed about “bad” things that happen to you over which you have no control. Just soak up the experience (Bov it) and move on – “life is too short” (that’s 2!). Seek out new experiences – you can only grow as a person if you are learning, and to experience is to learn. Traveling is one way to have hundreds of new, exciting, scary, uplifting, exhilarating experiences in a condensed time period. For those that are reading this, sitting at desks in a job you neither enjoy nor gain satisfaction from, and especially for those that have never felt the weight of a backpack on their shoulders, I urge you to take the opportunity, the huge opportunity, that we, in the West, have to travel. We are so lucky to have been born in countries in which the opportunities really are endless – don’t miss this one particular opportunity that will help you grow as an individual and, ultimately, help you to appreciate all the other opportunities that you have at your disposal.

Traveling also really hammers home the point that “we are all one” (is that 3 now?!). All around the world, regardless of race, religion or creed, commonalities are easy to see. Children display this more clearly than adults (before they are ‘polluted’ by society, cultural stereotypes or ideology) – for example, have you ever noticed how kids everywhere get immense pleasure from simply running around in circles(!)…and, indeed, from chasing pigeons! This, in my mind, is categorically the proof that we are all one! But, ultimately, what bonds us all, I believe, is the common desire to be happy. Now, I acknowledge that people around the world have different ideas about what will make them happy (money, corporate success, fame, spiritual well-being… etc) but we do all have the same objective. Money, for me, is certainly not a source of happiness. Whilst working for Accenture I could never say that I was rich, but I certainly had more money than I had ever had in the past – but was I happy? Working long hours on tedious, mind-numbing projects that neither challenged the intellect, nor provided any satisfaction (“I can’t get no, ouh ouh ouh, satisfaction” – does that count as 4??!) ensured that true happiness was kept firmly at bay - indeed, I felt like my life was on hold for 4 and a half years – and when you’ve only got one life, that’s a long time! I’m not saying I’m going to run off to the hills and set my self up in a self-sustainable farm somewhere (although I think this would be an interesting experience) – I know that I need money to live, I’m just saying that the pursuit of it (and, indeed, the pursuit of a ‘career’), at the neglect of other more important things in life (relationships, friends, family, simply enjoying oneself), is not the route to happiness. Someone rich in experiences and knowledge, for me, is a much richer person than someone with huge material wealth.

True happiness then, to achieve that allusive state, I’m starting to learn that you need to be happy with yourself, who you are, where you are, what you do, where you are going – you need to be confident in what you believe, but leave yourself open to new, different ideas. You need to build strong and genuine relationships with family and friends – to be unselfish, to be there for them, to listen and to respond. Your physical location, for sure, can have an influence on your state of mind (as can the weather!), but this isn’t a permanent contributor to happiness – I have always maintained that it is not where you are, but who you’re with that makes a great night out – and this applies in the wider context of where you are living your life. [Some of the happiest, certainly some of the smiliest, people I know reside in a small village called Bajjo in Uganda. And, while we’re at it, I firmly believe in the old saying “smile and the world smiles with you” (that’s 5)].

The last couple of years have also taught me that the “cherry on top” (can I include that as 6?!) of it all is to find someone you love, someone who is in the same position as you (physically and mentally), someone who loves you equally and unconditionally - to share your life, who you are and you relationships, with that person is magical. You need to be your own person first, however, to be your own ‘circle’ – the other person shouldn’t “complete you” (7) – Jerry Maguire was wrong on that count! You should be happy and complete first – but sharing that happiness with someone you love really does enhance it. This is the ultimate, the ‘final piece of the puzzle’ and the most difficult to achieve, but, I believe, from my limited experience, it’s worth the search.

As I board the plane tomorrow, leaving behind this incredible and beautiful continent and, with my exit, the end of my ‘Big Year Out’, I don’t feel sad as I thought I might. Instead I am incredibly excited. I’m excited about seeing friends and family, I’m excited about roast dinners, gravy, fry-ups and a good cup of tea! I’m excited about re-loading my iPod with music (my iPod was wiped in Brazil – I’ve had some very painful, very long, bus journeys!) and I’m excited about the future. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do when I return, but I’m not scared. I have some ideas and which ever one transpires will be an experience in which to learn and grow. One thing I know for sure is that I can’t face doing a job in which I neither believe in, nor gain satisfaction from – I’ve done that, I‘ve experienced that and I’ve learnt from that.

I’m going to end with a quote from an incredibly cheesy movie (Australia) that I saw on a date with a beautiful Peruvian girl. It may be cheesy, but bov, it really rings true for my current state of mind… “Some people surround themselves in possessions – houses, cars, gadgets – in the pursuit of happiness, but, all of these things can be taken away and, at the end of the day, all you are left with is your story – and I’m just trying to live a good one”.

Wednesday, 3 June 2009

The Hunt For Shakira...

Columbia has produced many things over the years - cocaine and, arguably, the most successful drug dealer of all time - Pablo Escobar - are the obvious ones that immediately spring to mind. Then there is the most famous haircut ever to grace an international football field (courtesy of Carlos Valderamma) and, of course, one of the most organised and dangerous terrorist groups in the world - the FARC. But, for me, the most successful product of Columbia is the incredible, writhing sexiness of the popstar Shakira. For those of you who are oblivious to the Columbian hip shaker, log on to iTunes and download the video ´Beautiful Liar´featuring Beyonce - you will not be disappointed! And so it was that I crossed over the border from Venezuela with every hope of bumping into the Columbian superstar and convincing her that we are, obviously, soulmates and should settle down in a nice pad on the Caribbean coast of Columbia. One of the reasons for my conviction that we should spend the rest of our lives together is that surely only I could match her wiggle for wiggle on the dancefloor - with Salsa, Tango, Samba and Forer lessons under my belt I was feeling confident that I could impress her with a few dance moves! Unfortunately my dream was shattered in my first week in the country when i discovered - on my birthday no less - that Shakira not only has a boyfriend, but she now resides in Miami! After drowning my sorrows with a bottle of Rum - the tipple of choice here - I picked myself up and set about exploring this incredible country.

First on the agenda was a 6-day hike in the North East of the country, deep in the jungle, to explore Ciudad Perdida (the "Lost City") - an ancient city long-forgotten until it ws discovered by grave robbers in the last century. Some of you may recall a story in the news about 5 years ago of a group of tourists that were kidnapped in the Columbian jungle - 2 English among them - with one escaping and walking through the jungle for days on his own - the other kept in captivity for a couple of months...yep - they were on the very same trek! There is a strong military presence now, however, we were reliably informed by our guide that the FARC were still only one days hike away from our campsite in the Lost City...and a driver had been shot dead only a month before...! Needless to say we didn´t encounter any FARC...but we did see 5 men with guns running, no, sprinting, past us as we set up camp on the first night, followed by a couple of gunshots - "nothing to worry about", said the guide nonchalantly, "they´re just going to kill a chicken for dinner"! Now, I know I only have limited experience in killing chickens (1 to date - in Uganda you may recall), but I´m pretty sure you don´t need 5 heavily armed me to kill 1...hmmm.... Aside from that it was a great trek involving numerous river crossings, 7 deadly snakes (I very nearly trod on one!), a huge tarantula, 5 ticks (small parasites that burrow thier heads into your skin and proceed to suck your blood - nice!) and a tour around a cocaine making factory!! The "factory" was, rather disappointingly, set up for tourists - the owner explained that his real one is hidden deep in the jungle, with 20 employees busily preparing the marching powder day in day out - still it was interesting to see the production process of Columbias biggest export! The ruins themselves were nowhere near the scale or beauty of Machu Piccu in Peru, but it was still an enchanting place, and what gives it a bit of a special edge is that the only way to get there is to trek through the jungle, there are no roads, no trains, no helipads and, concequently, no day tourists snapping away with their huge SLR cameras! In fact we pretty much had the place to ourselves - the second night at the city (we stayed 2 nights in the city itself) being my birthday - a pretty unique place to spend it for sure.

After the trek I spent a well-deserved 4 days in Tayrona National Park - think sleeping in hammocks, on near-deserted beaches, while watching bikini-clad women dip in and out of the sea - paradise!

Next stop was the jaw-droppingly beautiful (and sweltering) city of Cartagena - it goes straight into the top 3 "prettiest" citys I have ever had the pleasure of visiting - the other two being Venice in Italy and Dubrovnik in Croatia. All different, but all beautiful. You will fall asleep if I started to describe all the incredible colonial buildings, wooden balconies, churches, plazas and cobbled streets that fill the historic centre - take my word for it - it is stunning.

Medellin, infamous for being the home-city of Pablo Escobar, was next up and, at this point, I feel I must just make a quick mention about the women in Columbia - Shakira was no fluke - the women here are gorgeous. They do, however, like their plastic surgery, especially chest enhancements, and Medellin is famed for having some of the most beautiful (and plastic) women in Columbia! I spent a few days visiting museums, and generally having a good time - the night life is pretty damn good. One other site we went to visit whilst in Medellin was Pablo Escobars grave, which felt a bit weird - wandering around a cemetry with a camera - but its one of the things to see/do in Medellin!, but that wasn´t the most serial bit. I went with two Irish lads I´d met in the hostal, and as we got in the cab to go back to the Metro station we got chatting with the driver. We went through the formalities of "where are you from" and "do you like football", "who is your team"...classic taxi banter - practising the old Spanish - but this guy could also speak a bit of English..."where did you learn English?" I asked innocently, "in the USA" he replied, "I lived there for 2 years"..."ah nice" I said, "where abouts?"..."In Colorado, in the prison" he said..."oh", i said, starting to wish i hadn´t started this line of questioning, "what for?"...he gave a quick sniff of his nostral and said "lots of money to be made, but its dangerous work"..."indeed...you´ve stopped now then?" i asked..."oh no", he said, "i can get you whatever you want"..."ah, thanks, just drop us at the station for now, maybe later a"...and with that we got out of the cab and looked at each other in complete disbelief - did that really just happen??!

Bogota followed Medellin and I was very pleasantly suprised by the capital - a former "no-go" area due to terrorist activity - the city has got a very friendly atmosphere (Columbians are incredibly friendly people on the whole actually) and the old historic centre where I stayed was very pleasing on the eye. Museums, parks and partying were the order of the day again...

After the excess of Medellin and Bogota I needed some time in the mountains to re-cleanse - San Agustin provided the perfect rest bite. It´s a pretty little town set amongst stunning scenery and happens to be the location of the second most important archeological site in Columbia (after Ciudad Perdida). At some point before the Spanish conquered and plundered Columbia, a civilisation thrived in this remote region - their legacy was hundreds of stone statues all over the hillsides marking tombs and sacred sites. I spent a couple of days exploring this enchanting area and chilling out - just what I needed.

The final couple of stops in Columbia for me were Popayan (pretty, white washed colonial town) and Ipiales (fairly mundane border town, with the exception of the most striking location for a church i have ever seen - see photos). And so it is that I start my long journey South via Ecuador and Peru, back to Buenos Aires for my flight home at the end of June. I wish I could spend more time in Columbia - there is so much more to see and do and the people here really are amazing.....Shakira who??!

Tuesday, 12 May 2009

Don´t judge a book by its cover (or indeed a country by it´s reputation)

Venezuela – what springs to mind when you hear the mention of this country? Perhaps Angel Falls (for those that know their geography), maybe Beauty Queens (for those with an interest in the fairer sex – Venezuela has had more Miss Universe winners than any other country), perhaps oil (for those that have an interest in the worlds depleting supply), and most certainly Hugo Chavez (for anyone with even a remote interest in global politics)…and, for any recent travellers to South America, the word “dangerous” is also very much associated with this oil state – even more so now than its close neighbour Columbia – for so long held up as one of the most dangerous places to travel - Venezuela is now perceived as much more dangerous. So it was, on the back of this knowledge, and the fact that the currency in Venezuela is fixed against the dollar, meaning that all currency exchanges must be done on the black market (at the official rate the country is more expensive than England to travel around!), that I set off from Brazil with some trepidation into this country on the Caribbean coast of South America.

On the bus to Venezuela I met a German girl from my hostel and 3 really nice Brazilian students all of whom had the same objective upon entering Venezuela – to climb to the top of Mount Roraima – a huge, flat table-top mountain, some 2700 metres high and the inspiration behind Arthue Doyles´ “The Lost World” novel. I had heard about the trek a few years ago from my sisters boyfriend and, apparently, Ben Fogle (that Z-list celebrity, darling of house wives) also completed the feat on the BBC last year (so says my mum!). So it was that the 5 of us arrived in the border town of Santa Helena and promptly arranged a guide for the 6 day trek. We decided to save as much money as possible by buying our own food and carrying all our equipment (tents, food, clothes, sleeping bags etc) and set off the next morning with large packs. The first glimpse of the mountain as we walked across the surrounding savannah sent shivers of excitement through my body – it was a truly impressive sight. 3 days later, after walking under waterfalls, through a cloud forest and, at some points, rock climbing over huge bolders, we arrived at our hotel (an overhanging cave) at the top of the mountain. Wow, wow, wow. It is going to be incredibly hard to try and put into words the next day and a half we had at the top, exploring what is truly a different world. The landscape was mysterious – the mountain is made of sand stone and the wind and rain have sculpted an incredible, eerie landscape over thousands of years, full of caves, crevices, waterfalls, lakes and pink beaches(!). In places the ground is littered with crystals (there are kilos of diamonds hidden beneath the surface) and the unique flora just add to the feeling of being on a different, alien planet. Being a table top mountain we were, at certain points, able to walk right to the edge and peer down a straight, vertical drop of over 1000m – the feeling as I crawled to the edge and looked straight down and across the savannah for miles was indescribable – a mixture of fear, excitement, freedom, insignificance and awe – just incredible. It is definitely one of those places that photos will never do justice – it has to be experienced to be believed – the best thing I have seen/done on this trip in South America – it blew me away.

Next on the agenda was to glimpse the highest waterfall in the world – Angel Falls – some 980m high (that’s 1 km!!). This involved an overnight bus journey to a city called Ciudad Bolivar, and an hour flight over Cainama National Park – a beautiful flight from which forest, mountains, lakes, rivers, beaches and waterfalls could all be glimpsed. This was made easy by the fact that we were in a 6-seater Cessna – the smallest plane I have ever been in – although the feeling of unease as the tiny plane jerked about in the turbulence wasn’t made any easier by the fact that the pilot just read a newspaper for most of the journey, oblivious to the sudden drops in height every 10 minutes! Before I booked the trip I thought that Angel Falls was the only point of interest in the park – how wrong I was. The first day was spent in a small village in the middle of the national park, on the edge of a large river with a beautiful white sand beach, and a back drop of 6, impressive waterfalls. It was these waterfalls that we explored by boat and foot on the first day, walking behind 2 of them – by far the biggest waterfalls (in terms of volume of water) I have ever had the wet pleasure of walking behind – it was like a solid wall of water – brilliant. I woke up the next day to board a small long tail boat for a stunning 5 hour boat journey up a river fringed by rain forest, beaches and table top mountains. The end destination was, of course, the big falls themselves – again an awesome sight – and whilst lolling about in the pool at the bottom and peering up 1km at the highest waterfall in the world I once again had to pinch myself and appreciate how truly lucky I am to be able to travel and see these incredible sites in the world. That evening was spent in hammocks opposite the falls and I woke up the next morning truly refreshed and in a great mood – what a sight to wake up to, it really doesn’t get much better than that.

The next, and final stop in Venezuela, was Merida – a university town in the Andes, famed for being one of the top destinations for adventure sports in South America, and I duly took advantage! I spent a great 4 days paragliding (jumping off a mountain with a parachute – great fun), mountain biking (on and off road in the mountains, crazy hair-pin bends – awesome), and canyoning (walking, running, jumping, swimming and absailing down rivers and waterfalls – wet, cold, brilliant!).

So, although I only spent the best part of 3 weeks in Venezuela, I had a great time. Angel Falls and Mount Roraima are the best things I have seen/done on this trip so far…and certainly go straight in near the top of my personal list of things to do/see in South America. Whilst I heard lots of stories from fellow travellers about violence and robberies in Venezuela, I didn’t encounter any myself (although I didn’t venture to the capital, Caracas, which is supposed to be crazy). Unfortunately I also didn´t encounter any beauty queens (apparently they are all on the coast in and around Caracas – you have to risk the threat of violence to experience the best that Venezuela has to offer in terms of women!!). Finally a quick insight into Chavez – a bit of an enigma in the West – I asked as many locals as I dared on their thoughts and got a thoroughly mixed reaction – it seems that, much like marmite, if you are a Venezuelan you either love him or hate him!!

Next stop Columbia, the hunt for Shakira begins(!)…

FOOTNOTE(!): I have actually been in Columbia for a week now, spending the last 6 days on a trek deep in the Columbian jungle to explore the “Lost City” (a city built by an ancient civilisation)…but you´ll have to wait for the next post to hear the full story of snakes, tarantulas, ticks, cocaine factories and the Columbian army…!

Wednesday, 15 April 2009

The 'Trio in Rio' (and beyond..) – (Brazil Part 2)

Some of you may recall the theme tune to an 80's sitcom called 'The Wonder Years'. The Wonder Years was a great show that, as a young boy, gave me an insight into how to deal with the challenges that i would face as an adolescent – how to talk to girls for example! Anyway, the theme tune was a song that has been covered many times, most famously by Joe Cocker – '(I get by) with a little help from my friends'. True friends in life should be treasured, they get you through life's gristle and you always laugh longer and harder with someone with whom you have shared the highs and the lows of your life. And so it was that I met up with two true friends in Rio – Wandy and Scott. We began a 3 week adventure navigating from Rio to Salvador, spreading Bovology, minimilistic dancing, getting robbed, getting introduced to the 'Brotherhood', uncovering the fact that nothing makes sense in Brazil, 'meeting' the girl from Ipanema (the new one!), discovering the best bar in Brazil and generally having a bloody good time – Happy Days (incidentally another great sitcom!).

What better place to start an adventure than in Rio de Janeiro? As mentioned in my previous blog, Rio has a truly breathtaking setting, and i finally got to appreciate just how beautiful when we scampered up the famous 'Sugar Loaf' peak to get an incredible panoramic view of the city – its sky scrappers, its beaches, its favelas and its jagged mountain peaks – amazing. Unfortunately the view from the Cristo Redentor (the famous statue of Jesus Christ that looms over the city, arms outstretched) was not so good as the clouds rolled in and obscured the statue from view – still it gave it a slightly mystical edge.

Whilst in Rio I finally managed to get to a football match in South America – and what a setting – The Maracana stadium (arguably the biggest football stadium in the world...and certainly one of the most famous). We watched two of the biggest rivals in Brazilian football (Flamengo v's Vasco de Gama) go head to head in a crazy game involving 5 red cards! There is always at least one red card in every South American game – it seems to be a tradition – and no-one even batted an eyelid at 5! In the premier league most of the challenges wouldn't have even merited a yellow card, let alone a red! The quality of the football was actually surprisingly low, but the atmosphere was awesome - the stadium was over 3 quarters full (more than 75,000 people) - great night.

Ouro Preto was the next stop for the trio – a beautiful little university town set in the mountains about 7 hours North West of Rio. It was built during the 'gold rush' era of the 1800's and retains all of its character and charm – cobble streets abound and there seemed to be more churches than people! We spent 3 days walking around the city, visiting a dis-used gold mine (which involved swimming in a sub-subterranean lake) and meeting the 'Brotherhood'. Most of you will be familiar with the sorority/fraternity system that many universities have in the States. I have always viewed these organisations with a certain amount of disdain. People only party with, or date, people that belong to the same sorority/fraternity - or one of similar standing – people are judged on what sorority/fraternity they belong to and, in general, it seems, that they encourage people to only mix with those of the same social standing, racial and religious background. Now, for me, this eradicates one of the most important aspects of going to University – the opportunity to mix with people from all different backgrounds, to listen to other opinions and ideas and, ultimately, to reduce ones ignorance and develop a more rounded view of the world in which we live. The Brotherhood/Sisterhood tradition in the University of Ouro Preto, on face value, appears to mimic the sorority/fraternity system in the states (you have to 'apply' to get accepted as part of a brotherhood/sisterhood and you live in the same house as all the others in the same brotherhood/sisterhood), but once you get under the surface you realise what its all about – to humiliate the 1st years, to get 3 years free accommodation and to generally have a bloody good time! Basically the boys that want to join a Brotherhood have to endure a year of 'torture' by their older 'brothers'. The bare minimum is that for 6 months of their first year the older brothers are allowed to cut the hair of the new applicants in any way they desire (words shaved into heads, images of female genitalia, chunks of hair!), they have to wear a 'sandwich board' style piece of card around their necks (for 6 months!) and get girls to sign it...and have to get drunk, every day, for 6 months (regardless of whether they have exams or coursework!). We spent a great night with a bunch of these wannabe 'brothers' in a suitably dirty student bar, getting drunk and joining in the 'brotherhood' chants (they all have their own song), and whilst there is a strong bond between 'brothers' – all the brotherhoods mix together to ensure their university days are the best of their lives!

We left Ouro Preto happy, if a little damp (it rained every day), and so went in search of sun, sea and sand. This involved a 24 hour bus journey (not helped by a 4 hour traffic jam) – a challenge for Wandy and Scott – arriving in Arrail d'Ajuda, a highly recommended beach resort. The beaches were nice but, to be honest, we were a bit put off by the lack of people (its low season now) and the 'theme park' feel to the place (the main street has been purpose built for tourists in recent years and felt a bit 'fake').

From Arrail d'Ajuda we continued North for a further 8 hours to another recommended beach resort and this time we stumbled on an absolute gem, and my favourite place in Brazil – Itacare. An incredibly laid back town, with some of the friendliest people I have ever met, some of the most stunning beaches I have seen and the best bar in Brazil – Favela! We spent 5 days chilling on the beaches, watching Scott attempt to surf (he did stand up once – i saw it – for about 3 seconds!), meeting some great people, dancing on the beach and having 5 great nights in Favela! Just to explain – Favela is a wooden shack, with a tree as part of the decor! Due to the small size of Itacare, and the the lack of bars, everyone ends up there. Its just an incredibly down-to-earth, friendly bar with a mix of tourists and locals, all of whom are there for one thing – to have a good time! It only reinforces my belief that in order to have a good night, its all about the people you are with and the atmosphere created by those around you – it didn't matter that the bar was in worse condition than the shed in my mothers back garden – I loved it!

After 5 nights of partying we needed to cleanse ourselves, and what better way than in a stunningly beautiful park called Chapada Diamantina. We arrived in Lencois (the starting point for treks into the park, and a very pretty town in its own right) and promptly booked a 2-day guided trek in the park. The trek involved an overnight stay in a cave, plenty of huffing and puffing of steep hills, some downright dangerous rock hopping/climbing, 3 absolutely stunning waterfalls and for one, long, hour the very real fear of impending death!! Ok, so the photos can illustrate the cave, the views and the waterfalls, but the last point needs some explanation! In order to reach the largest and most spectacular of the waterfalls we had to trek along a river through a narrow canyon for the best part of a day. This involved some pretty risky leaps of faith from rock to rock along the river bed, swimming through the canyon and climbing up waterfalls! For these reasons we left most of our equipment (sleeping bags, rain macs, extra clothes etc) in a cave and continued with the bare minimum. Upon our return to the cave we discovered that our bags had been opened and money had been stolen (bear in mind we had not seen another soul for the last 2 days). Before we knew what was happening our guide, Washington, instantly took off without saying a word and we were left sitting by the cave, on our own, in the middle of a vast wilderness without so much as a compass! To start with we thought Washington had just gone to see if he could hear/see anyone in the immediate area...but as time passed we began to get increasingly concerned. The sun was starting to set and we were a good 2-3 hours trek to our pick-up point with no way of getting there (the park is riddled with different trails). A period of 15 minutes went by when no-one said anything, then all sorts of theories started to get banded around – was Washington in on it – had he arranged the theft, were the rest of our valuables we had left in the hostel owned by his mum also gone, had Washington been captured by the group of thieves, were we going to have to spend a second, sleepless night in the park...after 45 minutes we were getting really worried – it was at this point that i noticed some white 'rocks' in the dusty soil – as I poked them I realised they were not rocks, but bones – and large ones...the more i looked the more i found – the atmosphere changed – what the hell was going on – were all the horror stories that i had heard about Brazil about to come true – were we about to be killed for the sake of £30 and a few smelly clothes?! Over an hour had passed when we suddenly heard somebody approaching – running hard – we all braced ourselves to see who was going to burst through the undergrowth – this was the moment of truth – would we fight back or crumble into submission??...it was a massive relief when Washington appeared! Apparently he had an intuition of who had stolen the money (a recluse living in a cave on the other side of a nearby mountain) and ran off to see if he was there (he wasn't). After a huge collective sigh of relief that we weren't about to be butchered and eaten alive(!), we headed off to the pick-up point at a ferocious pace (the sun was about to set). All in all it was a dramatic end to an incredible 2 day trek (one i would recommend to all – minus the but-clenching ending!). [Incidentally, the bones that i found were the remains of cow – the caves had once been used by diamond miners who had enjoyed a feast from time-to-time!]

The final stop for the trio was Salvador – a city with a beautiful historic centre, let down by the amount of people trying to scam you. And so it is that I say goodbye to Wandy and Scott as they return to the drudgery of the real world! I've thoroughly enjoyed the last 3 weeks and it has again helped me to appreciate the true value of friendship. Next stop for me is Manaus (a large city in the middle of the Amazon), then Venezuela – which is apparently now more dangerous than Columbia (just to make you feel better Mum and Dad!!)