Before our bags were packed our egos were boosted. Our air was shrouded in arrogance. Friends, family and strangers fuelled our vanity: what we were doing was "inspirational" and "selfless". The trip began to sound groundbreaking, like we were superheroes, and I bought it.
I bought it until I stepped off the bus.
We arrive…
It’s 8am in Cusco, Peru. I’m starting my shift at the general health clinic in San Sebastian, a suburb that’s a 20-minute bus ride from the centre. Yesterday was a sweaty day in the city; today though, my breath hangs in front of my face and I shiver in my raincoat.
Intermittent rain…
Touch down in Podgorica Airport. The chill of Eastern European air encourages the hairs on my arm to stand in formation. Small pools of sweat slowly form underneath my black polar-fleece turtleneck after lugging my suitcase across the European continent. We’ve flown from Zurich to Podgorica, the capital of Montenegro, and the sleek Swiss charm…
For the first time on this trip, the cocaine looks unappealing.
“I think I’m over it. I’ll just drink.”
My mood is low -- mind and heart somewhere else, with someone else -- and in this brief moment, not even the exotic evening charms of Isla Mujeres can hold me here. I let my mind…
On training wheels, my older sister used to race me. If she won, she would get an orange-flavoured Chupa Chup. If I won, we would both get an orange-flavoured Chupa Chup.
She always let me win.
At four, or some there-about appropriate age, I was hot off training wheels. But I never got back on…
It was 9:30pm and happy hour had well and truly begun on Mlini – the loud and jovial boat I was allocated on my Sail Croatia tour. Like a stale rickety staircase shrieks at two in the morning, Mlini creaked and clacked. It bobbed atop the salty waters, like an old, well-loved rubber duck in…
"The game is called Presidents," one of the French girls is saying, gesturing excitedly the way people explaining card games do, her words coming to me through a haze of smoke. "And the aim of the game is..."
But I can't catch what she's saying. Right now, I'm the dumbest, slowest version of myself, my…
I put a drop of soap into my menstrual cup and use my hands to spread the soap around the silicon. There is something grotesque about washing a menstrual cup while listening to pig squeals echoing from the abattoir down the street of the Bali villa. Paradise met with slaughter. The scent of my blood…
Stickiness glues every inch of my clothes to me. Blaring sun blinds me from all directions. Wine fumes leave no room for fresh air on this street. A bead of sweat slides down my face to land on my upper lip. It tastes slightly of stale wine. I turn a corner and can finally see…
Hi, I’m interested in your collection.
*Delete Delete Delete*
Hello, I would like to come and see your dolls.
*Delete Delete Delete*
Maybe I should write this in Japanese. Wait, who the fuck is this email even going to. Ok, ok, let’s just Google translate a few ideas.
English to Japanese has me feeling…
“The problem with Muslims is that they don’t assimilate,” announced the Australian owner of a Balinese sports bar.
The red-nosed sexagenarian was drunk on his own stock and the admiration of his fellows, swinging off a barstool in the joint he’d made his own.
“They don’t assimilate and they don’t respect our way of…
Sleepless in Seattle – that’s the old movie with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, right? I have some vague recollection of watching it on TV years ago. One of those weekends where you decide to stay in and watch whatever old film they decide to recycle on commercial television. Little did I know, as I…