Fiona and I have just spent the darnedestly relaxing 24 hours in Torata, a small town 30-odd minutes drive from Cbba, which is perpetually tranquilo, and has few, if any western tourists at any one time. It's famous for being the birthplace of one of (!) Bolivia's mad presidents from the late 1800s (his palace is on display just out of town, but we didn't have the time nor inclination to see the grandiose pomposity of its architecture before leaving). We went to the artisania complex on the other side of town where the pottery is gorgeous (and the creating of which is like a sensuous dance... and sorry, yes I did think of Ghost) and at times humourously irreverent (e.g. one teapot's spout in the form of a penis and the accompanying milk jug in the shape of a breast. Brilliant!). Photos of pretty streets and seemingly happy people (we asked them!) to follow.
Talking of happy, it seems that the truth is out there... and published! To further add to my (very) informal research on happiness in a poor country, my friend Marty sent me this article about Sydney:
Intellectually bereft, obsessed with money and status ... they must be from Sydney
Brigid Delaney, LondonJanuary 27, 2007
Brigid Delaney, LondonJanuary 27, 2007
COULD Sydney be the saddest of cities — intellectually bereft, spiritually empty? Are its residents T.S. Eliot's proverbial Hollow Men — heads together but whispering nothing except deadening conversations about the latest movement of the property market or fad diet?
Sydney's culture of the relentless pursuit of property, perfect bodies and status has British psychologist and author Oliver James worried. As part of research for his recently released book, Affluenza, he travelled to seven countries to research the effect of consumerism on happiness.
He found the obsessive pursuit of money and possessions was not buying happiness. The affluenza virus was worst in Sydney, where he found interviewing locals a depressing experience. It was, he said, "the most vacuous of cities. The Dolly Parton of cities in Australia."
Adelaide and Melbourne had a "different vibe" and did not strike James as being as materialistic as Sydney. He had not been to Sydney before and expected a "philistine nation" of "jolly, uncomplicated fun-seekers". Instead, he found a city in thrall to American values and a puritan work ethic that robbed life of joy and meaning. Middle-class Sydney, he writes, is "packed with career-obsessed workaholics". When they are not working the longest hours in the developed world, they pursue perfect bodies through joyless fitness regimes, or obsess about property prices. Always, they are looking around anxiously, in the hope that others aren't doing better than them.
"(It was) full of people who place a high value on money, professional status and appearance," he said. The result? Sydneysiders have a "greater risk of suffering from mental illness — depression and anxiety".
"They (Sydneysiders) were like the tin man from the Wizard of Oz. They had no idea of the point of their lives, other than to get rich." James noted Bureau of Statistics figures highlighting a rise in depression that coincided with a bullish property market, which caused stress and anxiety — particularly among young Australians.
While Britain has "its Posh and Becks", — obvious examples of conspicuous consumption — cultural differences, including a more entrenched class system, has put the brakes on the spread of consumerism in Britain.
"The British, compared to the US or Aussies, are less easily convinced that money will get you further. The British elite have been around for an awfully long time and there is not the crassness of the Australian rich."
While he despaired about Sydney, he found "affluenza" was not as prevalent outside the Western world. "Shanghai has the virus pretty badly but the vaccine is Confucius. Your best is good enough." But in Sydney, a strong materialistic culture means that no one ever quite feels like they can "measure up". His advice to Sydneysiders? "Start reading." Starting with his book, perhaps?
Sydney's culture of the relentless pursuit of property, perfect bodies and status has British psychologist and author Oliver James worried. As part of research for his recently released book, Affluenza, he travelled to seven countries to research the effect of consumerism on happiness.
He found the obsessive pursuit of money and possessions was not buying happiness. The affluenza virus was worst in Sydney, where he found interviewing locals a depressing experience. It was, he said, "the most vacuous of cities. The Dolly Parton of cities in Australia."
Adelaide and Melbourne had a "different vibe" and did not strike James as being as materialistic as Sydney. He had not been to Sydney before and expected a "philistine nation" of "jolly, uncomplicated fun-seekers". Instead, he found a city in thrall to American values and a puritan work ethic that robbed life of joy and meaning. Middle-class Sydney, he writes, is "packed with career-obsessed workaholics". When they are not working the longest hours in the developed world, they pursue perfect bodies through joyless fitness regimes, or obsess about property prices. Always, they are looking around anxiously, in the hope that others aren't doing better than them.
"(It was) full of people who place a high value on money, professional status and appearance," he said. The result? Sydneysiders have a "greater risk of suffering from mental illness — depression and anxiety".
"They (Sydneysiders) were like the tin man from the Wizard of Oz. They had no idea of the point of their lives, other than to get rich." James noted Bureau of Statistics figures highlighting a rise in depression that coincided with a bullish property market, which caused stress and anxiety — particularly among young Australians.
While Britain has "its Posh and Becks", — obvious examples of conspicuous consumption — cultural differences, including a more entrenched class system, has put the brakes on the spread of consumerism in Britain.
"The British, compared to the US or Aussies, are less easily convinced that money will get you further. The British elite have been around for an awfully long time and there is not the crassness of the Australian rich."
While he despaired about Sydney, he found "affluenza" was not as prevalent outside the Western world. "Shanghai has the virus pretty badly but the vaccine is Confucius. Your best is good enough." But in Sydney, a strong materialistic culture means that no one ever quite feels like they can "measure up". His advice to Sydneysiders? "Start reading." Starting with his book, perhaps?
And it appears the Big Day Out has raised its overpriced, overinflated head again already. My other friend, Paul Hogan,who sends me regular critiques and updates about John Howard and the legacy he has happily inherited, sent me these: funny if not so depressingly accurate:
All well otherwise. Going to spend the rest of the Sunday arvo with a Taquiña on the balcony to offset all the culture we just absorbed...
Love to all, Michael (and the ever-about-to-present-you-with-her-first-guest-blog Fiona).
2 comments:
What a crack-up! It was just another way for me to creatively diss Sydney in my ongoing and never-ending quest to put that place in the rubbish bin, but if it helps you in your (however informal it may be) research then go for it! Mind you, Melbourne's pretty affluenza'd up too.
Hope you enjoyed Tarata (of course you did, you've just said so right here). It's a cool little joint!
For some reason I feel like my above comment made it look like I actually wrote that article. For reference: it really is a real one, I got it from The Age newspaper's website.
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