Don't Believe The Hype

Saigon River, HCMC....swimming not recommended
There are two schools of thought when it comes to illness and travelling.

The first school espouses a very sensible philosophy: never eat street-food (that's buying from a street-cook, not licking roadkill or fighting with the rats for odds and ends of unwanted food); drink only bottled or boiled water; and keep clear of rich or unusual foods. This way the chances of getting sick are minimal.

The second school says fuck-it, I'm going to be ill anyway, might as well get it over with now and build up some resistance for when it really gets hairy.

I attend the latter school.

And today I got grounded for it. The great thing about not sharing a bed is that you can make it as fetid or smelly as you like. Who's gonna complain? Me? It's my smell. Just times ten. Feel some wind pressing on the inner wall of your sphincter? Let it out. You know you'll be grinning like a trooper when you do.

Not this time for me. I guffed, smiled one of those satisfied grins, and rolled-over. Then I realized I'd followed through. So to speak. Poisonous gases are one thing. Other states of matter cannot be so easily overlooked. It was a severe case of Delhi Belly, or Ho Chi Guts as I dubbed it. Frequent sorties to the bathroom looking like Renton from Trainspotting when his laxative kicks-in told me today's trip to Saigon Water Park with Francis was a no-goer.

I daren't even venture out my room for breakfast, lest my cup overfloweth. I was consigned to my room, my only companion the ever reliably dire CNN. Though I was probably not in a fit state to even make a judgement about which way was up -- the Ho Chi Guts making me see the world in a feverish daze -- I still retained enough of a handle on reality to question what Colin (when did the geek-boy name Col-in get recast as Co-lin?) Powell was spouting on the box. As would any six-year-old looking at the grainy aerial photos of Iraq's equivalent of Homebase (a DIY store) and hearing our main man Co-lin Powell solemnly incant that this was cast-iron evidence of a chemical weapons programme.

You what?

To be honest I felt a bit sorry for Powell having to host this charade. You can imagine the Whitehouse meeting beforehand. Bush: "Dick's tied up at Halliburton getting ready for a little job in the Middle East, and Donald's got his plate full with his North Korea 'Terrorist Regime' comment, so why don't you do the WOMD presentation, Colin?" For the administration's leading dove he sure did a lot of dirty work.

So that was most my day. In the afternoon I hardened up (no Eddie, not like that!), got dressed, grabbed some food outside (from a grubby looking sausage shop, of course), and then checked out Francis' website at www.flourish.org. Francis had been posting some of his experiences of his travels much like this. Little vignettes about his feelings, unusual ways, strange places etc. Nothing unusual there.

What was unusual was the vitriolic attack one his posts had attracted. I don't have the exact quotes, but the gist was Francis was the worst kind of tourist for believing that some local Cambodian's friendly behaviour was due to anything but financial motivation. At the time I could see both sides. People do look out for their self-interests, but people can also be nice without any obvious reward.

Now I believe it's more complicated. If you've travelled around you'll know as well as I do that the way a tourist gets treated does not simply correlate with the wealth gap between tourist and local. In Laos it's tranquility incarnate. In India you can't move for hassle. Religion, social custom, political allegiances, history, and many other factors as well as economics comes into play. Not everyone buys into, or even has the conceptual awareness, about capitalism to make it the basis of all their life decisions. Money is not the sole arbiter of people's happiness! In fifty years will people look back at Western culture of today and say "God, didn't they have it hard without the money we have now!".

Wouldn't that be incredibly patronising as well as being untrue?

Working from home, HCMC