Animals Collected
I used to be obsessed with reading people’s travel blogs, the more poorly conceived the better. My favourite piece from one of these was a self-important, exhaustive document of the author’s time in Thailand. Each paragraph was more riddled with casual racism and economic misunderstanding than the last. Their use of adjectives bordered on aggressive, their sentences were truncated in a manner that they had obviously admired elsewhere and thought was stylish writing, but instead read like they were being taught a new and unfamiliar dialect. They mused on their advanced emotional and spiritual growth like there was no such thing as death, and they finished up with an oily anecdote about a holiday romance with an Indian yoga instructor. They didn’t use one word to describe this man which wasn’t to do with food; my absolute best bit was right at the end when he told her that he had the Latin word for mirror tattooed in a hard-to-see place, to remind him to be constantly reflecting. Cracking stuff. The Latin for mirror is “speculum”.
With this in mind: I send a minimal dispatch from Sri Lanka, mainly a creature report.
At the time of writing I have been bitten to pieces by mosquitos, and as previously noted on my Instagram stories was subsequently banned from Insect Tiktok for “making remarks which amounted to genocidal”; I am, however, having an excellent time. Now that I’m doing yoga for two hours a day my neck is two inches longer and I respond to all provocation with the kind of ultra-calm smile that gets people punched. I am the most serene I have ever been in my adult life. Colours are brighter and I feel like I could start and win a fight with the sun. I fell off a surfboard in front of people and I didn’t even care. I look forward to every single positive effect from this trip instantly dissipating the second I set foot back in the UK, but I have just decided that I am a believer in block universe theory, so even that is just a moment. I am trying to experience this trip as a quiet documentarian, and intrude as little as I can. People keep trying to take pictures of me; “Do not record me”, I shriek. “I am the peaceful watcher and I am secondary to the magical creatures of this island.” Anyway, I have a huge mosquito bite on my face. And now to the creature report:
One elephant (snacking; eyes that had seen a thousand sunsets and sunrises)
Monkeys (medium to large; fancy little fellas. Potential for criminality)
One family of cats (parents came to sit with us, kittens very tiny and occupied with fighting the plants)
One leopard (absolutely miles away; possibly fictional)
Snake (reported sighting; terrifying)
Lizards (small to medium; smallest hanging out on various walls, biggest an iguana going for a constitutional)
One Sri Lankan mongoose (trotting and not flowing like Indian mongoose)
One rare Sri Lankan owl (semi-camouflaged in tree; snoozing. Described by guide as “hunter bird”)
One eagle (very good tufts on head)
Lots of outsider dogs (surprisingly well cared for-looking, but Too Many)
One large frog (hiding beneath slats, shouting but not visible)
Sri Lankan kingfisher (beautiful; had a little cry while watching it)
Several small frogs (minding own business)
Water buffalos (serene animals; one in its own private puddle. Prioritising self care)
Crocs (lazy fuckers, did not move for 3 hours; mouth open in kind of grin you can only display if you haven’t evolved for millions of years)
Warthogs (30-50. grűnt)
Egrets (elegant; spindly)
One multi-coloured Sri Lankan junglefowl (ultra-fancy chicken; glossy)
Peacocks (one with tail fully out; shagger)
Lots of coos (they say “moo” but in Sinhalese)
Herons (pleased with selves)
Stripy squirrels (chipmunks in disguise, think they’re slick)
Fireflies (had imagined fireflies to group together in a kind biological starlight, all the fireflies here are riding solo; enchanting)
Bees (massive)