.Comics

I have just finished Guy Delisle's Chroniques Birmaines in French, although the English translation is now out and available in bookstores under the title Burma Chronicles. The book is a series of vignettes detailing daily life under one of the most strange and brutal regimes in the world. As far as niches go, Delisle's got the graphic-diary-in-a-dictatorship all locked up. I can't think of any other cartoonist, excepting Joe Sacco, who so consistently tackles international problem states with such ease. Chroniques is his third book about life in a dictatorship, following Pyongyang, set in North Korea, and Shenzen, set in China. One of the reasons Delisle focuses on these bizarre nations is that his wife Nadege is an administrator for Medecins Sans Frontieres, and so he spends a lot of time in terrible places that most cartoonists don't visit.

Delisle's work is successful due to his eye for detail, in both his drawings and his subject matter, turning his novels into fine works of visual reportage. An example of this is the story he recounts midway through Chroniques, after he's been in Burma in few months. (The country is also known as Myanmar in the UN, but not formally recognized as Myanmar by many UN members protesting the regime.) Rumours that the ruling generals were planning to move the capital prove to be true, when one day, without warning, they begin to pack up and go. Bureaucrats are given 24 hours notice to leave the capital and if they refuse, they'll be thrown in jail. The capital itself is moved from Rangoun to town still under construction in the middle of nowhere, a place without water or electricity, and apparently tons of snakes. Bureaucrats sleep under their desks while housing is built. But the best part, the cream on the top of the ridiculous sundae, is that the generals refuse to give the name of the new capital, claiming it is a defense secret. It is then named, and then renamed, ending up as Nay Pyi Daw, meaning "The Residence of the King."

Another story that seems paranoid in the extreme revolves around a journalist friend of Delisle, who visits him in Burma then writes a story in France criticizing the regime and mentioning Delisle and his drawings. One of Delisle's animation students works for the government and is concerned that agents in the Burman embassy in France will see the article, link the student to Delisle and toss said student in jail for 10 years. In a panic, Delisle burns all his copies of the magazine in Burma and spends the next few days calling around to see how likely it is the story will be read, until he is assured by an unidentified ambassador that the Burmans in France likely can't even speak French. "One of the benefits of corruption," the ambassador remarks dryly.

Delisle and his family leave Burma after a year and bit due to MSF's withdrawal from Burma because of the increasingly ridiculous restrictions placed upon aid organizations in that country, including visa renewals every month. Delisle captures the bittersweet moments of his departure, such as his final farewell to his animation students after a boozy night, knowing he will never seem them again. He thinks back to a mother and child he saw in a clinic for HIV/AIDS patients one morning and returns the following day to ask about them, only to discover there are so many women and children that go through the clinic doors the aid workers have already forgotten the two he's asking about. It's those small details, like the farewell, that make the book so strong. As a work of comic art, the book is fine, but as work of literature and global analysis, Chroniques Birmaines deserves to stand alongside other serious books in the politics section of your nearest bookstore.

Francophones can check out Guy Delisle online, including links to reviews and other works. Also see the Guy Delisle page at Drawn and Quarterly, publishers for his English editions, here.

Missing Bondi

Here's a little snap of the ocean I took a while back. Sigh.
Miss it. The sun rising over Ben Buckler at Bondi Beach.

Essay On Homecoming

I had been waiting for this moment for ages, savouring its arrival. For the first time in a year, I'd get to wait in the fast line, the line that says 'Canadian Passport Holders' while all the unlucky slobs get stuck in the long "All Other Passport Holders' line. A quick look, a nod and I'm through!

Right. It turns out that Canada is one of the very few countries that does not make a distinction between nationalities, so all customs lines are equally long and boring. Further, I got stuck in the line with the Super-Attentive-Ask-A-Million-Questions Customs Officer, so every other line breezed ahead.

Just goes to show that reality often fails to live up to high expectations. The real pleasure is having no expectations at all and then being pleasantly surprised by whatever comes along. And that's just one of the many, many things I've learned while travelling during the past year. Although I won't recount every little lesson, there are a few things I'd like to share.


Patience














First, it might be surprising that I am going to claim I have learned how to be patient. I would like to state that the above scenario took place after three flights totalling 23 hours in length, not counting 18 hours stopover which could stretch anyone's patience a little. But all flying aside, I have increased my meagre store of patience and I blame it all on trying to learn how to surf.

It took me months to even claim to be a surfer, despite the fact that I often woke up at 5:30 in the morning and walked 15 minutes through town in a wetsuit to get to the beach, sometimes arriving before the sun was up. There were many times that I considered giving up on this sport that requires such a monumental amount of effort for such fleeting moments of joy. The turning point was another set of lessons after months of floundering, and in two days I was riding with ease and I've made progress on my own since. The best thing about those lessons was the reassurance that surfing is a lifelong pursuit filled with frustrations, setbacks and failures. My flatmate told me of a week-long surf trip he took to Fiji during which time he caught only three waves. Another surfer that I met one sunny afternoon in Manly said that he looks at the waves like a parking lot; if you miss this one wave/parking space, don't worry, because another one will come along soon enough.

Ultimately, I'm glad that I stuck with it, that I kept getting up early and dragging myself into a cold wetsuit and even colder water. There's nothing better than taking a deep breath of sea air, splashing through the waves to get out the back and watch the sun rise and the waves come in. Nothing better unless you've got someone or a few someones to share it with, which brings me to my next thought.


Meet The Locals














After leaving Australia I travelled to Thailand and then to Taiwan. In both countries I had the opportunity to surf, although in greatly varied conditions, and in both countries was able to connect with people over our shared love of the sport. In Thailand, where there can be such a great divide between relatively wealthy white tourists and the Thai people who serve them, I surfed alongside Phuket locals as an equal. To be fair, they were better surfers than me, but we sat on the same waves and a few girls and I shared a smile and a nod. Later I oogled pictures of local surfers on the walls of the surf shop as I returned my rental board. The lady running the shop pointed out pictures of herelf on sizeable waves and modestly claimed they were small that day.

In Taiwan, my friend Miranda and I visited the small surfing village of Jialeshuei and made friends with the village kids one evening. One boy, along with a Taiwanese tourist, taught us a new card game called Pai Chee (Seven Piles or Seven Cards in Mandarin) and the next morning we all went for a surf together. Miranda spoke some Mandarin while I speak none, and only one boy of all the village children spoke much English, but together we got by. Now I have a Taiwanese pen pal, and he's got a few English surfing words to practice.

In both cases I did something more than show up with my Lonely Planet under my arm, tick off sights on a list, and move on to the next place. I made an effort to talk to the people that lived there and share something with them, not just use them as a backdrop for my holiday snaps. And that brings me to my final thought.


Travelling Is What You Make It


















I read an interview a few months ago in a surf magazine that has stayed with me and is particularly relevant now. The interview is with Dave Rastovich, the world's most-famous and most-respected free surfer. A free surfer is someone who is paid to surf and travel the world but does not compete in surfing competitions. Rastovich has the respect of his peers (the rest of the world's best sufers), freedom from the pressure of competing in order to retain sponsors, and he gets to surf all the time. He's living the dream life, and the interviewer asks him how people react. Dave says that people would tell him he was very lucky and he would tell them he was given the same abilities as everyone else but he created the opportunites in his life that allowed him to get to where he is today. Granted, not everyone can grow up near an ocean or has the skills to become a world-class surfer, but the point is that you get out of something what you put into it.
Travelling is the same. If you put in the effort to see something new, to learn about the country you're visiting, you can have a wonderful experience and go home with new friends.

I hope to apply the things I've learned as I'm re-adjusting to living in Canada (especially patience!) and that I can find my own version of free surfing. It will just take a little time.

Thailand Revisited

Long tail boat, Ko Phi Phi Don
Monkey Beach, Ko Phi Phi Don
Swimmers, Koh Phi Phi Leh
Concrete musicians, Ko Samui
Urchins, Koh Phi Phi Leh
Big Buddha, Koh Samui

Country Roundup

Just a quick breakdown of observations from countries I have travelled to in the past year. Sometime this week an essay will follow.


Country with the biggest coins, rendering wallet a hefty brick: Australia

Most anger towards English speakers: Italy

Highest probability of gastro-intestinal disorders: Thailand*

Most likely to be asked to be in a photo by people you don't know: Taiwan

Place where summer feels like winter: South Island, New Zealand

Most likely place to be surrounded by Western tourists, causing self to ask what country self is actually in: Koh Phi-Phi, Thailand

Least likely place to see other Western tourists: East Coast, Taiwan

Best bread: France

Best coffee: Australia

Best pizza: Rome

Place that did not live up to reputation as pickpocket central: Barcelona

Place that unfortunately did: Overnight bus to Koh Samui, Thailand

Place which promised sunshine nearly every day of the year excepting a few days, during which time I happened to visit: Valencia, Spain

Least exciting European City: Madrid

Funny example of living up to national stereotype: Drunken yobbos fighting each other in the street after the pub closed, London.

Sexiest newspapers: Sydney

Smartest newspapers: London

Largest array of completely bizarre television programming, including at least five channels showing mathematical equations performed by host: Taiwan

Surprisingly wonderful place to visit: Montpellier, France

Worst odd garbage smells: Tie between Toronto streets and Bangkok canals

Best city to find lost objects: London, red cashmere scarf.

Most memorable Buddhist temple, deduced after seeing at least 40 million others: Chiang Mai, Thailand

Easiest city to get around: Toronto

Easiest city to get to airport due to excellent rail link: Sydney

Most difficult city to get to airport despite rail link: London

City which I am glad I will never again have to visit: Genoa, Italy

*Due to listeriosis outbreak in Toronto, Canada may replace Thailand as number one.

Bangkok

1. Random puffy food in Chinatown.
2. Muay Thai at one of BKK's two stadiums. Lots of cockroaches were watching too.
3. Cat at a Wat (temple), tons hang about.
4. Reclining Buddha.

Whitsunday Fishies

Winter Sun

Just for the record, am never buying Coles (supermarket) brand film again, it looks like juunnnk. But these all turned out well enough.

Pope-Tastic 2

I have learned a new word. The word is boat-a-cade. As in the Pope is arriving in Sydney's Central Business District by boat-a-cade and he will then be loaded into the Popemobile where he will proceed down George street by motorcade.
So what other types of cades ought there to be? Here are five I to which I have taken a fancy:

1. Skate-a-cade

2. Aero-cade

3. Chimp-a-cade

4. Hang-glide-a-cade

5. Bird-a-cade

Pope-Tastic 1

Next week the Pope is coming to Sydney for World Youth Day. I somehow managed to avoid him when I came to Toronto, but this time I am not so lucky. His motorcade is passing under my office window. A Catholic charity is exhibiting at my work. Now it looks like Sydney is going to be all chaos on Pope Visits Day (July 17th)
because the rail and bus workers are going on strike. Yes. They are. I'll be sure to take photos of the fun.

Sun but No Surf

My digi cam doesn't capture sun flares very well, but you can see that it's all sun and no surf down at Manly right now. Cross your fingers that the swell forecasted to hit this weekend actually comes. In the meantime, I'll be reading my new Frankie magazine.

Top Five Lollies Eaten At Work

1. Lindt Mint Chocolate mini choccy bar.

2. Mystery ju-jubes in Tupperware on co-worker's desk.

3. Starburst Snakes in non-naturally occurring snake colours.

4. Dove chocolately things bought on promo from Woolworth's.

5. Droste Chocolate Orange Pastille given to me by boss before going on vacay.

Book Club

How many covers can one book possibly have? Well I have the answer. The answer is four.

The new book club book. You can follow along at home.

Photo Life

The Museum of Sydney is currently running an exhibit entitled Rockabilly: Living the 50s about modern-day Sydneysiders who happen to style their lives as though we were still living in the fifties. I suggest you click through to see the fab cat-eye glasses sported by two lovely park-going locals. Not long after seeing a preview in the Herald I walked by this lovely powder-blue beauty and had to stop and snap it.

As well, my favorite Sydney gallery is running an photography show documenting the earliest days of one of Australia's most famous bands. AC/DC Exposed! is meant to coincide with Bon Scott's July 9th birthday (he being the original lead singer, now sadly deceased).

Lastly, I have recently acquired an underwater housing for my Fisheye. Fittingly, it's called the Fisheye Submarine. Watch this space for underwater shots!

(Image courtesy www.zippos.com)

Night Swim

A few nights ago I went for a swim in the Fairlight saltwater pool after I got home from work. I knew it was going to be cold as the sun had been down for a few hours already and night lows were hovering in the single digits. I chose the full wetsuit instead of the short-arms, short-legs spring suit, and I brought along the swim cap and goggles.
I hopped in as quick as I could and starting swimming. My hands and feet tingled as I kicked through the water. My face felt like I had gone and stuck it in a bucket of ice-water.

The pool itself was lit by a streetlight that hangs over one side of the water, illuminating half the pool lengthwise and leaving the other side, the nearer to the ocean side, in darkness. Despite that, I could see the bottom perfectly and the water was crystal clear. In the summer, or any time at high tide when the pool is battered by waves, the water is cloudy from sediment and turbulence. Last night it was calm and I could see shells and sand settled on the uneven rocky floor.
But, my hands and feet began to go numb and I started to imagine sharks lurking in the far dark corners, so I popped out. And today my suspicious were confirmed-no, not about the sharks-it looks like ocean temps have dropped another degree or so. Winter has truly hit Sydney.

(Pool stairs)