 E ver read any of Bill Bryson's travel guides? Impressed? Well over the next few weeks / months and so on I'll be putting up my view of the world, an online cyberpunk version of planet Earth (well not all of it, just the odd country here and there - Hong Kong, Brazil, Israel, Syria, the USA, the UK, Turkey, Thailand to name just a few).
See news about Latest news INTRODUCTION : "Do You Speak English?" Let me set the scene for you here. Between 1989 and 1993, I travelled the world, well certain parts of it, installing computer systems that would design textile patterns for weaving towels, ties, the washing instructions label on the back of your shirt or T-shirt, suit linings, furniture fabric and so on and so on. Yeah, yeah, pretty boring I hear you cry - get on with it. I’d be on my own on most occasions as it was a one-man job. More than often it’d be quite lonely and quite depressing, especially in some of the more undesirable countries. But it was my job, and until I found something else, I’d just have to put up with it. There was some consolation though, each trip meant I’d be on certain allowances, a daily amount of money to cover food, accommodation, and gratuities - odds n sods from telephone calls to taxi rides to laundry services. Occasionally I was on expenses only, a sharp difference, meaning if I didn’t have a receipt, I couldn’t claim back anything. Obviously an allowance was the preferred option and by having a fixed amount, it meant that the less I spent, the more I could put in my pocket if you know what I mean. Some people use the term ‘playing the violin’ but I had to get something out of it. It wasn’t like I was travelling abroad visiting the exotic parts of the world. If I told people I was going to Brazil they’d think I was spending all my time lying on Copacabana beach in Rio de Janeiro or partying during the carnival season, or if I said I was off to Spain, they’d think I’d be boozing it up on the Costa Del Sol. The truth of the matter is that I was working in the textile industry and so visited the industrial areas of these countries, not exactly the tourist spots. Eating sensibly, but not over expensively meant I’d bring home large wads of cash to blow on whatever I pleased, or rather whatever the wife wanted. I found through experience that ‘enjoyable, cheap’ food would normally mean a cheeseburger or a pizza, washed down with the odd bottle of beer and maybe a dozen or so donuts. Now as some countries have eating habits that quite frankly make you want to puke, I have to say thank heavens for free trade and international franchises. I wonder what shit I’d have had to live on if it weren’t for the fact that, in almost every country I worked, there was, low and behold, a McDonalds or a Pizza Hut or a Dunkin’ Donuts. You could say for the period between 1989 and 1993, I lived on Big Mac’s and pizza, but I’ll try not to dwell too much on that as I reflect on this personal journey of mine, looking back on the cultures, people, experiences, highlights, and lowlights of being an international jet setter (yeah right). Please bear with me as I get technical for a moment, just to finish off setting the scene for you. Most of the time, as previously mentioned, I’d be on my own installing these large and somewhat powerful computer systems, using my specialist tools of the trade, about ten floppy disks! Sounds simple? It was. The installation process took less than an hour. However I also had to teach the customer how to use it. This training aspect, could take weeks, especially as in many cases there was a language barrier. Most places had someone who could speak English, which made the job in hand quite easy really, but when there wasn’t, it was bloody hard work. I remember being asked to learn a language, but when your job involves travelling anywhere, exactly which language do you learn? Being the typical lazy Englishman that I am, I didn’t bother. It’s something our nation is renowned for really, probably because we’re an Island and we’re ‘cut-off’ from foreign influences. I mean think about it, we just don’t bother learning to speak any foreign shit. When we go abroad on holiday, most Brits head for those places where there’s a mini England, like your Benidorm’s and Aya Napa’s, in other words the Blackpool’s of the world with sunshine, egg and chips, and copies of The Sun or The Daily Mirror. I guess what I’m saying is that too many people still believe in Rule Britannia, when the British Empire had a foothold in all corners of the globe, and our ‘civilised’ manners would be respected and mirrored by the conquered ‘barbarians’ we had trampled over. Sometimes I think our nation is so far up it’s own arse it disrespects other countries and their traditions. We don’t embrace their way of living, demanding instead, that they speak like us, eat like us, and behave like us. So that means Sunday roasts with Yorkshire pudding, pints of lager, tea with milk and two sugars, drunken violent youths, hoards of sex mad half-naked alco-pop chain-smoking slappers, soccer thugs, fast food, curry houses, littered streets, Eastenders, driving on the left and anything else you can think of which shows our ignorance to any overseas nation. Anyway, I didn’t learn a language. I picked up the odd word here and there, always found out how to ask for a beer and became fluent in the swear words of the world, a fascinating topic and if I ever went on Mastermind, I reckon my specialists subject would be “how to say fuck in a foreign tongue.” So that’s it, the scene is set. The countries I visited were wide and varied, the job was the same but the enjoyment and experiences gained were not always pretty. Continued On Next Page (would, Page 2) ... AUTHOR: P D Han  TAGS: Travel big mac pizza fast food life pizza eating BOOKMARK: Digg it | Add to Del.ICIO | Add to FARK ACTIONS: Comment Save Print Register free acount  |
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