By Atlas Al

Whether you’ve traveled or not, we’ve all heard people say, “The women from my country are the best in the world.”  What I find interesting is that I’ve never said this about my own country, the United States.  Beautiful American women exist, but the majority is nothing to look at.  The population of the United States is about two thirds overweight or obese, slim pickings to say the least.  So how/why do Brazilian and Swedish guys get away with such boasting about their women?

Let’s assume, for example, there are roughly the same amount of poor, middle class, and rich people in every country.  Whether we’re talking about the United States or Zimbabwe, 10% of the population will be rich.  No matter how messed up the average population looks (and I can think of a few countries with disastrous reputations), there will always be some diamonds.  However, not all countries have the exact same percentages of poor, middle class, and rich people.  Some countries are poorer, some have a smaller/larger middle classes, and some have more rich people than other countries.  We can say that if some countries have more billionaires than other countries, some countries will have more attractive women than other countries. 

When I backpacked through Scandinavia, I’d say 10% of the people I saw were overweight, and the ones I did see were probably tourists.  If such a high percentage of a country’s population is in shape, then of course the world is going to gawk at them. 

Keeping with the Brazilian-Swedish example, if enough people say their women are the best in the world and foreigners buy into it, then those foreigners feed the vicious cycle of hype and stereotype about the women being bragged about.  Think if your parents called you stupid each day of your life; you’d start to believe you really were stupid.  No wonder certain flags think so highly of themselves when so many guys salivate at the thought of them. 

[Even though The Hunger doesn’t think Swedish girls are one of the best in the world, and I do, read his The Beauty of Propaganda post.]

When other nationalities brag about their women, I just listen because there’s no way I can brag about my own.  Next time you’re flag bragging or flag bashing, ask what makes a country’s women the best or the worst. 

Flags of the World, South American flags, Brazilian flag

By The Hunger

You arrive at your new hostel, the receptionist hands you the key, and the hostel lottery begins.

The brain plays out various supermodel and serial killer scenarios of potential roommates (similar to living with flatmates, see Travelling Without Moving post); comparable to how I fantasize in an airport lounge about sitting next to Scarlett Johansson on the next flight and amassing 8 hours of intelligent foreplay on our way to Paris.

The lock is stuck!  Damn, I wish I had listened to the receptionist’s diatribe after all.  Instead I was wondering about the contents of the free breakfast and when it finished.  Eventually, I get the door open.  No one’s in the room, just gear scattered around like a second-degree murder crime scene.  My eyes zoom in on useful and useless information to construct a character profile, like on a video game, except this time I’m readying myself for a new game of Hostel Wars.

I rarely stay in hostels these days, this one being the first in a long time, and I feel anything but a backpacker.  I don’t cook, I go to restaurants.  I’ve traded in binge drinking for morning runs.  But even though my hostel use-by-date is nearly expired, I still love to meet other people.

This time it doesn’t smell like a room with dudes; the first thing my trained eyes spot is the novel Shutter Island (typical backpacker fare).  Too soon to say whether it’s a girl yet, see some unisex Asics shoes (not sure if I would wear those ones though), another book, Europe on a Shoestring, could be younger backpackers, and then I see it:  make-up.  Bingo!  Two girls in a 3-person dorm – I love Seville in the summertime.

Whenever I go travelling, especially when I was younger, whoever I was travelling with or met in the foyer on the way to a bar, I’d say let’s grab a drink, smoke some cigarettes, have a chat, and hopefully when we get back the Swedish volleyball team will have checked into our room.  It always got a laugh and a silent nod in agreement.  Reflecting on it now though, I’m not the biggest fan of Swedes (I don’t hate them, I just think they’re overrated) or volleyball. These days I’d most likely say, let’s hope the Bahamian gymnast team has moved into our room.  I admit; it doesn’t really have the same ring to it, but I certainly know what I’d prefer.

After I drop off my washing, the temporary cast of Room 25 greet me.  Two lovely Australian girls from Sydney’s smaller and more cultured cousin, Melbourne.  We went out to a cool tapas bar where they were nearly married off to Spanish suitors; the girls weren’t interested even though I had negotiated a suitable dowry.  We finished the night at a café sipping espressos, and then off to bed because the girls had a bus to catch the next day to Lagos at a time that should be illegal.  And I was looking forward to the privilege of ducted air-conditioning in a hostel – a very civil night indeed.

The next day, two of the most easygoing Swiss guys I have ever met moved in. With a drinking licence that only works on vacation and a handshake that pushed an ice-cold cerveza into my hand, I knew it was going to be a drinkfest.  The night’s festivities started at 6 and ended 11 hours later, and not before we sampled some of Seville’s best nightspots.  (Sevillanas are sophisticated as well as stunning.)

The next day, the reality of my hangover sank in and it was compounded by southern Spain’s famous 40+ degree heat and my overweight suitcase.  If it weren’t for the allure of Seville’s architecture and the humour I found in the whole situation as I snailed across the city trying to find my sanity, I may have fainted for the first time in my life.  I mourned the torture of the dreaded hostel switch; it should be illegal in the nation of travel.  Some things in life have no substitute; convenience is one of those things.

When I did finally make it to my next hostel, the lottery once again blessed me with 3 girls and moi:  one Canadian from Montreal, and two Brazilians who just met each other.  Who’s ever heard of Brazilian backpackers, let alone two?  Very cool.  If you ‘re waiting for an international threesome story that could inspire a UN mission statement I regret to inform you that the ink on my poetic licence has run out.  Unfortunately, I nursed my hangover and watched a Dave Chappelle special; I even refused the Quebecoise’s invitation for a drink, ugh.

For me, travelling has always been about food and people.  How can I know a country until I experience the most essential of human functions:  to eat and to chat.  And even though I’ve gotten older, hostels are still a great way to meet interesting folk – the hostel lottery makes sure of that.  How much profit you make depends on how much you wager.

Flags of the World, European flags, Spanish flag

By The Hunger

Swedish women have enjoyed a sterling reputation since Ingrid Bergman and Greta Garbo graced the silver screen many years ago.  In plain English, the world is obsessed with Swedish women.  The mere mention of “she’s Swedish” is enough to paralyse one’s thoughts.  It conjures up siren-like images of bronzed blonde goddesses who hail from a VIP area of the world called Sweden, and all are heavenly creatures bearing a resemblance to Victoria Silvstedt right?  Wrong!

The Swedish legend I had bought into is a country with an abnormally high quantity of attractive women.  I have nothing against Swedes, but I must admit I have always found tales of their beauty overrated.  Some may consider this sacrilege.

Is there a Swedish women conspiracy theory?  I suspect the Swedish tourism board of spreading propaganda about the quality and quantity of their beauties and that they have done so for years, a savvy ploy to attract more people to their Nordic lands.  They have done a first-rate job at convincing the world of their countrywomen’s beauty. 

I’ve met loads of Swedes outside of Sweden and there is a small minority I would quite happily drive a Volvo C30 for.  But I have also met a disproportionately high number of unattractive Swedes who in no way support this stereotype.  The chasm between their reputation and the reality is too great, and this troubles me.

Swedish women are supposed to embody the crème de la crème of world blondes, the quintessential blonde.  There are lots of beautiful Swedish brunettes as well, but the world is obsessed with their iconic blonde brand.  Is everyone in love with real Swedish women or in love with the idea of Swedish women?

People love to say there are beautiful women everywhere and I do agree, but few countries can compete on the world stage with the beauty of the Nordic countries, especially Scandinavia.  Anyone who has ever been to Scandinavia would have to agree that the average person there is just better looking than most other countries.  Even grandmas are hotter in Scandoland.  Trust me, I’ve looked. 

Atlas Al wrote a brilliant article months back entitled “Scandinavia: A Winery”.  He suggested that the most attractive Scandinavians can be found in their home countries.  It’s a valid point, and I agree with him that the hottest girls from a country, in this case Sweden, are to be found in their native land, and not dispersed in an even number of bombshells around the world.

Although I haven’t been to Stockholm yet, I have been to Sweden, and I did see many stylish Swedish stunners, but far from the burning point the Swedish Legend promised.  I honestly think Danes and Norwegians (haven’t been to Iceland yet) are “Swedish Legend contenders”, but instead they are better known for open-minded drinking laws and the most expensive Big Macs on earth respectively.

With so many Swedish backpackers outside of Sweden and all the tourists who venture into Sweden, I’m sure everyone has an opinion on the legend of Swedish women.  Some may consider my notion blasphemous against a legend that is virtual fact and that this is obvious hyperbole masking my disinterest in blondes.  Not true; however, I do prefer brunettes to blondes.

The legend of Swedish women needs to be further examined so people aren’t unknowingly passing on a baton of misinformation.  Just because the Swedish Legend looks perfect on paper doesn’t make it true.

Flags of the World, European flags, Swedish flag

By The Hunger

When I was in Barcelona a couple of weeks ago, their dual language street signs reminded me that I had entered the Spanish province of Catalonia.  The Catalonian language occupies the pole language position here in this region of Spain while Castilian (Spanish) takes a back seat to its Catalonian counterpart.

Although there are definite similarities between the languages, and Catalonians have no problem understanding Spanish, Spanish-only speakers wouldn’t understand 100% of a Catalonian conversation.

Large chunks of the world speak some English, but how much do they really understand when we speak to them in our English?  Casual head-nodding together with an overzealous use of “yes” are convincing ways to bluff an unaware native speaker.  More importantly, how much would a hot foreigner really understand from a conversation with a native speaker in a bar?

You’re there regaling the tale of how you sailed solo around the perilous Cape Hope on a rubber ducky, or the time you and Mike Tyson had a drag race and you beat him in your Nissan Micro.  She probably would have already decided to shag some Danny DeVito look alike in the bar that just happens to speak English she can understand.

According to the most trusted source of linguistic credibility on the net, Wikipedia, (forgive me, linguistic stats are difficult to get concrete data on) some 300-400 million people speak English as a native language and another 200-1400 million people speak English as a second language.

Combine those figures with rum-fuelled intoxication, a stereo system with temperamental bass levels blasting that year’s summer song, and a foreigner who learnt her English from Monkey Magic.  It all seems like conversational suicide.  But alas, all is not lost; there are ways to increase your communicative chances without her needing to recite Shakespeare.

Being the English teacher that I am, I use one of the most effective techniques when dealing with low level learners (e.g. elementary, pre-intermediate):  to use a lot of body language, and to “grade” their English.

The first idea is fairly straightforward; body language is a very effective way of communicating.  Think about when you’re talking to someone who doesn’t speak your language, you instinctively revert to using body language, our most ancient form of communication.  Being aware of body language is important here, hers as well as yours.  I have always found that girls love it when guys are animated in their conversations; it shows passion and the potential to be amusing.  Be careful not to overdo it, otherwise you’ll look like Cosmo Kramer doing yoga.  I once taught an elementary class for 4 months.  Towards the end of my stint, if you were to observe me from a distance you would have thought I was a semi-professional mime, certifiably nuts.

In terms of “grading” English, think of how you would speak to a child.  You wouldn’t use more difficult words like gynaecology or engage in complicated topics such as capital punishment.  You want to grade down certain parts of your speech so they can follow the conversation.  How much of course depends on their English ability; this you will be able to ascertain when they start or don’t start to speak.

Essentially, you’re pulling out the excess language from the sentence so they can focus on the core communicative message.  When someone who doesn’t speak English very well talks to you, they tend to misuse verb tenses, confuse prepositions or confuse the word order in their sentences.  It’s not difficult to fill in the gaps when someone says, “Russia I live”?  By slowing your language speed and limiting your vocab range, you’ll notice a big difference.

Now if she can’t understand any English, and you can’t find any lingua franca to communicate with, you could use one of her friends to translate key sentences.  Like, “I would love to dance with your friend”.  Don’t go overboard if you use her like a human Babbelfish because you run the risk of being a gimmick or just plain annoying.  No human translator around?  Dance like Fred Astaire on acid, no risk of miscommunication there!

Communication is the key.  Make sure she has a chance to communicate otherwise you’ll be having a one-way conversation all the way home.

Flags of the World, European flags, Spanish flag

By Atlas Al

I went out drinking with some friends and their friends.  I love to meet new people and ask all sorts of question to get a feel for who they are.  One of many standard questions that come up is, “Where are you from”.  Most people say the country first followed by the city.  Everybody has to come from somewhere.  This girl said her city (in Norway), and then mentioned that she’s from Chile and Norway.  Obviously she didn’t know who she was talking to.

“You can’t be from two countries at the same time”!

“Why can’t I?  I moved to Norway from Chile when I was 7 years old”.

“I have two passports too – American and French – but at the end of the day I’m American”.

“You’re white with blue eyes, you don’t stand out.  Look at me – I have dark eyes, dark hair, unlike the average Norwegian.  Your differences define you more than you think”.

“Just because you might look Chilean, doesn’t mean you aren’t more Norwegian”.

“You don’t understand.  Norwegians see me as Chilean, and when I go back to Chile to visit family and friends, they see me as Norwegian”.

She has a good point in that people define you by your differences, the things that make you stand out among your peers.  When I was growing up, people would call me Frenchie because I was half French.  I was still American, but being half French made me unique, at least when compared to the average American.

“What do you consider yourself to be more”, I asked.  “Chilean or Norwegian”?

“I don’t have to answer that”.

“Yes, you do.  You have to be something, can’t be both.  What I want to know is from which pair of eyes do you view the world?  With which kind of cultural mental hard-wiring do you process information”?

Then she excused herself to smoke.  I would’ve followed her to have one as well, except I knew she didn’t want to be pushed anymore.  It’s a hard question to ask oneself, but it’s a question worth asking.

I told all this to my friend Chris.  He agreed with my argument, but went the devil’s advocate route.  According to him, some people are perfectly fine with the idea of going through life as neither one nationality nor the other. 

“It’s like wearing a pair of bifocals; same pair of glasses, two different views”.

I strongly disagree.  People should ask themselves these difficult questions.  One would think that having two passports meant you were two nationalities, ie two flags.  However, it shouldn’t be fair to claim two flags from the same person; one person = one flag, or as I like to say, “One flag per shag”.

Even babies are passed down more genes from one parent than the other.  If physically we are more like one of our parents, then surely a dual citizen must think/act/behave more like one country’s culture.

Chilean girl has to choose, no one is exactly half-half.  If she moved to Norway when she was 7 years old, we can assume she’s out of touch with Chilean culture; as a result making her a Chilean-looking Norwegian.

When it comes to dual citizens and multiple passport holders, all I want to know is this:  with which cultural mindset do they process/absorb information, and from which nation’s eyes do they see the world with?

Flags of the World, South American flags, Chilean flag, Norwegian flag

By The Hunger

As I travel by train close to the Camino del Norte, a famous Christian pilgrimage route across northwest Spain, I’m surrounded by modern-day pilgrims with generous bouts of body odour and walking sticks that even Gandalf would be proud of.  There are many roads one can take to reach the holy cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, the most popular being the Camino Frances, which starts in Biarritz and is a 780km trek.  With 2010 being a jubilee year for the Camino de Santiago, 200,000 people from across the globe are expected to make the journey.

Some have finished and others are about to start, yet the feeling of achievement and wonder is ubiquitous.  Their bodies look as though they have walked a sizeable chunk of Google Earth, but their eyes are filled with a youthful exhilaration that must come with retracing 1000 years of history. 

I, too, began reflecting on my own life and how I’ve arrived at this point.  Every believer has a journey they have to take:  for Muslims it’s the once in a lifetime hajj to Mecca, Saudi Arabia; Jews hope to visit Jerusalem’s Wailing Wall at least once in their life; Buddhists make pilgrimages to four different religious sites; and believe it or not, Scientology’s Mecca is not Tom Cruise’s mansion but a specially-built house of worship in Clearwater, Florida.

In the past, pilgrimages only had religious connotations, but religion isn’t for everyone.  Pilgrimages can also be defined as “a journey to a place with special significance”.  These days the world has found other ways to kill Sunday afternoons with pubs, clubs, cafes, sports, art galleries, casinos, gyms and parks.

Everyone, religious or not, has their own Mecca and a visit would be worth any odyssey regardless of distance or danger.  As Atlas Al mentioned in his Capital of the Flagging World post, “everything has a capital”.  For tennis fans it’s Wimbledon, for gamblers it’s Vegas, for climbers it’s Everest, for art lovers it’s Le Louvre, and for any self-respecting weed smoker its Amsterdam.  We have a 193-piece jigsaw puzzle made up of man-made pieces called countries.  Which countries warrant flagging pilgrimage status or hold a flagging Mecca reputation?

For me it would be Colombia, Canada (in particular, Montreal), The Bahamas, Jamaica, Russia, Reunion Island (France), Brazil, Ukraine, Iran, and Lebanon to name a few.  Though I’ve never been to any of these places, word of mouth and keen eyes tell me that these places need a look at before I can make my final decision.  This bucket list of sorts needs to be filled with stories and shenanigans; a journey that needs to be taken, a future pilgrimage to find the ultimate Mecca.

Every pilgrim is on a quest to quench a romantic thirst for the unknown.  How and where they go depends on their unique palette and their appetite for adventure, where they have been, where they want to go.  That’s the beauty of flagging:  there are beautiful and interesting women all over the world.

From my own personal experience, two places I think any flagger should visit at least once in their lifetime sans question are Spain and Argentina.  My first time to these places literally redefined my definition of beauty, a life changing event.

Maybe these places aren’t the flagging Mecca, but they are worth a 24-hour plane ride, discomfort, and the occasional BO; I’d most definitely walk to the next Mecca if I had to.

Flags of the World, European flags, Spanish flag

By Atlas Al

It’s hard to put into words the jaw dropping Scandos undressing themselves right now in Oslo’s Birkelunden Park.  The scent of coconut oil wafts in the air from slender tanned bodies deglazing in the midday sun, breasts smashed into towels give their vitamin D-starved behinds a chance at some sun, and every guy wears dark sunglasses appreciating the surreality of his present situation. 

After World War II, millions of East Germans fled across the border into West Germany seeking a life free from Stalin’s totalitarian state.  “Brain drain” came to mean a large number of educated people that immigrate to another country, leaving their home country with fewer educated people.  “Beauty drain” is when beautiful women leave in the winter in search of warmer weather. 

Those who have been abroad will undoubtedly agree that Scandinavians travel everywhere, and most leave in the autumn to escape winter’s icy cold.  Scandos go to SE Asia, Florida, South America, anywhere warm. 

Australia and New Zealand offer 18-30 year olds (from participating countries) a chance to live, work, and travel up to 12 months, something called a Working Holiday Visa.  (Anyworkanywhere.com has comprehensive, country-specific lists of visa and job information.  To find your country, click on “Visa Info” on the left side of the webpage and then select your country of origin.)  Norwegian, Swedish, and Danish citizens are all eligible for a Working Holiday Visa down under, and why not escape if you can.

“Party Swedes”, for example, work hard during the summer and then leave right before the winter.  So when the northern hemisphere gets cold, they go south; when the southern hemisphere gets cold, many return home.  It is this homecoming that produces an even higher concentration of stereotypical beautiful women in Scandinavia’s parks and bars in the summertime.

Flags of the World, European flags, Danish flag, Norwegian flag, Swedish flag

By The Hunger

If you ever wanted to hook up with a Spaniard, World Cup Sunday was paying better odds than a defective poker machine.  Patriotism and partying, synonymous with Spanish football fans, hit a new national zenith in the wake of the country becoming the newly crowned world champions of football.  I gate crashed the Spanish World Cup festivities the day before the big match. (As luck would have it, I happened to be returning to Spain anyway!)

To be in a foreign country and witness a page being written in their history book is special.  Elections, sporting events, carnivals, festivals, revolutions, coup d’états are also events that bare watermarks of history (as are wars, terrorist attacks and assassinations albeit with a darker twist).  The feeling of that day is etched into the Spanish national psyche forever.  Just listen how the English talk about their 1966 victory; it’s as though they all live in a mental time machine.

There aren’t many days like this in life – everyone is naturally euphoric and people are more open to chatting with strangers.  When I was in Sydney for the 2000 Olympics, small talk had never been so interesting.  That combined with cervezas and sangria produced a powerful social cocktail of opportunity.

Imagine what it was like when man first landed on the moon on July 20^th, 1969.  It would have been one crazy night, even if you weren’t American or in the US.  I remember hooking up with an American girl in Australia the night President Obama was inaugurated.  Sharing this experience with someone with a home team advantage added another dimension to the evening; like how some would prefer to spend St. Patrick’s Day in Ireland drinking with a bunch of Irish.

Not everyone was fortunate enough to be able to be in Berlin in 1989 or to enjoy 1969 Woodstock.  Future historic events don’t stick to a timetable.  No one can predict when or where the next global ground zero will be, not even Google.

Increase your chances by checking festivals and global sporting event schedules or important anniversaries of past events.  However, each one of these situations is prototypical – that’s what makes them so unique.  Fans attended game 6 of the 1977 World Series of baseball with typical finals excitement, but nothing could prepare them for Reggie Jackson’s triple homerun magic.

Global events give a sense of history to our own timeline.  As the years pass and the memory fades, the global events that you remember most were the ones that were extra special.

Flags of the World, European flags, Spanish flag

Malta.  Biggest tease on Earth. 

I returned home after visiting The Hunger who’s doing a working holiday in Malta.  We caught up, discussed future plans for the site, drank (a lot), and naturally, I scoped out the local scene for any talent.  We met a cool Canadian guy named Andrew at a beachside hookah bar who told us he’s been living in Malta for 6 months and still hasn’t hooked up with a local yet.  So what are my chances if I’m on vacation for 9 days?

I wanted to recount my story of getting the Maltese flag; instead I’ll explain why they’re one of the most difficult to hook up with:

First, we’ll start with legs.  Paceville (pronounced Pashaville) is Malta’s nightlife nerve center and reminded me of spring break in Mexico.  Bars, clubs, strip clubs, and kebab houses thrive here. Your heart can’t help but change beats to the overpowering speakers as you walk past different clubs observing the miniskirts within.  I’ve never seen so many nice pairs in my entire life.  I’m all for flaunting it if you got it.  The downside is that you don’t know if you’re checking out a barely legal 16 or 17 year old that looks like she’s 22.

Whether local or tourist, most available women on the island are between 17 and 20 years old.  Locals usually have long term boyfriends by 18, and because the majority of the population is very catholic, they get married and have kids at a young age.

On the tourist front, many come to learn or brush up on their language skills because Malta is a hub for language schools.  High schoolers and university students prefer to come during their summer holidays to take an affordable language course, usually to learn English.

I started to believe there were no women left in their 20’s.  I received a tip from a couple of guys (both 19) working at the Diesel store in Valletta.  According to them, Club 22 on the 22^nd floor of the tallest building in Malta had older women.  The music, view, and women were all good.  But unlike the free entrance, you had to pay to get to know some of those older women.

Andrew said the best place to meet mid-20’s Maltese women is to have a BBQ on the beach. Apparently, that’s what they do because the Paceville scene is too young for them.  Unless you’re around 20 years old, your best shot at hooking up with a local is to seek out the divorced or widowed.  But where did they hang out, where did they drink?  I still don’t know the answer to this question.

Knowing what I know now, I’m going to hook up my future 17-year-old son big time and send him to Malta on a summer study abroad course.  Vicariously living through him will be the closest shot I’ll have at getting the Maltese flag.

Flags of the World, European flags, Maltese flag

By The Hunger

Having arrived in Malta a couple of days ago, I was greeted by the furnace-like heat this quaint little island is famous for. Naturally, the bevy of Maltese women sunning themselves like flamingos on vacation lured me to the beach.

After spending the last couple of months in Spain, I was reminded that the definition of beachwear varies from country to country and city to city. In Malta, topless sunbathing is uncommon, whereas in Spain there’s more skin on show than a Ross Meyers film. And this birthright isn’t only reserved for the beautiful or the rich. All walks of life – citizens with different shapes, sizes, ages and incomes – can make this choice if they want.

Cultural attitudes towards topless sunbathing differ considerably around the world. In my opinion, Europe has always been the most liberal, especially the sun-starved northern Europeans.

Australia a little less so; while there’s a visual smorgasbord of breasts on display at Bondi Beach, generally it’s a higher percentage of tourists.

The USA? Forget about it, unless it’s a nudist beach. Asia, no, and the Middle East, never!

Beachwear culture is knotted with religion and history. Rio de Janeiro’s Copacabana and Ipanema beaches are famous for its nearly naked women sporting a tanga, (thongs) and it’s even skinnier sister called the fio dental (dental floss). A fio dental might be the same as nudity for some folk while for others this 2cm piece of cloth is just sexy.

You can’t miss the sexiness in the air or in the dancing, yet at the same time you can still feel a conservative undercurrent running through Catholic South America. Malta, Spain, and tens of other countries are Catholic as well, and all embrace their topless traditions differently.

Should nationalities with a more liberal attitude towards nudity and sex adopt the beachwear traditions of other more conservative countries?

Residents of Barcelona think so. They’ve begun a campaign to stop people wearing bikinis and board shorts away from the beach. A spokesmen for the city said, “It’s not something which is banned, but it’s an attitude we don’t like”. They don’t mind if you’re nearly naked on the beach, but you need to adopt street wear etiquette once the sand ends. In other words, what happens on the beach stays on the beach.

Even within the topless realm, there are variations of toplessness that some enjoy and others object to. Facedown topless, or face up topless? It takes a different kind of confidence to walk down the beach topless or swim topless. I remember I was at the beach in Spain talking to an English friend (who was topless) and she couldn’t believe that some girls swam bare-breasted. It comes down to your confidence and comfort level, just like you won’t see me wearing Speedos any time soon.

The beach should be a place where sand and sun supersedes standard clothing etiquette. Since we spend 99% of public interaction in clothes, that other 1% is going to be pretty exciting.

Everyone is always looking at everyone else at the beach anyway. Whether topless or not, bikini, burquini, or Speedos, there’s more primal psychology happening at the beach than on Freud’s couch. Ironically in some countries, the more you wear the more naked you feel.

Flags of the World, European flags, Maltese flag, Spanish flag

By Atlas Al

Congratulations to German pop singer, Lena, who at the age of 19 has won the 2010 Eurovision singing contest in Norway with her song “Satellite.”

However, I lost some respect for the largest singing contest in the world. To call something Eurovision, shouldn’t it be European? Countries from Morocco to Jordan are eligible to participate in the contest; Israel won the contest in 1978, 1979, and 1998, and Turkey in 2003 – are they European flags?

Northern African and Middle Eastern (Israel, Jordan, and Lebanon) countries are definitely not European, and Turkey and the Caucasus region are questionable.

While it’s more than possible to hook up with foreigners in your own country (one of my friends has 10 flags and has never left his country), travel is such a huge component of flagging.

What once started as a simple guide for backpackers in SE Asia, Lonely Planet is now the leader in travel guide books. On their website, they have a Destinations page with info and tips on every country in the world. We use LP’s country grading scale as a guide to separate countries into their appropriate continental/regional sections. If you’ve already checked out our European flags section under the Flags of the World page and saw many questionable European countries, it’s for this reason.

Watch American Idol, Australian Idol, Britain’s Got Talent, or any similar show and you’ll mostly see people from that country competing. Likewise, if I watch a “Eurovision” contest, I expect to see Europeans battling it out.

I think it’s false advertising to call a singing contest Eurovision if neighboring non-European countries are able to compete. Let’s avoid any future scandal and just call the damn thing Worldvision.

Flags of the World, Norwegian flag, German flag

It looks as if there’ll be no end to the Cyprus crisis. Dervis Eroglu, the prime minister of the occupied Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, won the recent presidential election. And why should I care about all this? Because he’s a nationalist who’d prefer not to reunite with the rest of Cyprus, and he represents an illegitimate state.

During the last two centuries, bad blood has been spilled between Greece and Turkey:  four major wars, ethnic cleansing pogroms in Istanbul, skirmishes between Greek-Cypriots and Turkish-Cypriots, and a failed coup d’état in Nicosia backed by Greece’s military junta in 1974.

The British gave independence to Cyprus in 1960. Perhaps they thought that by making Cyprus an independent state rather than being controlled by Greece or Turkey it’d smooth over the centuries old conflict. Cyprus’s independence made matters worse between Greek-Cypriots and Turkish-Cypriots and escalated into a full-blown Turkish invasion of the island in 1974.

The root of the Cyprus crisis stems from ethnic Greek and Turkish communities not viewing themselves as Cypriots. With this kind of deep cultural divide, they should’ve remained a British colony, been wholly controlled by Greece or Turkey, or accept the split as it is now.

I hate it when people refer to themselves as Greek-Cypriot, Turkish-Cypriot, African-American, Chinese-American, Japanese-Brazilian, an English Jew, Catholic or Protestant Irish. This “us versus them” mentality creates social friction and is unhealthy for society (consider the past conflict in Ireland, for example). Never in my life have I said I’m French-American – I’m just American.

From a flagging perspective, it’d be much easier to assess the flag status of a person who came from Northern Cyprus if Turkey just claimed it as one of their provinces. Instead, they play political games and are the only country in the world to recognize TRNC sovereignty.

From 1960 to 1974, the entire island was under the sovereign rule of the Republic of Cyprus. Northern Cypriots (no matter if they were Turkish or of another background) are essentially squatters on the Republic of Cyprus’s land.

Northern Cyprus’s limbo state of affairs doesn’t mean they don’t have a flag. They must be something. They’re probably not Greek because most Greeks and Greek-Cypriots live in the southern half of the island. The only people who can say they’re Turkish (i.e., from Turkey, aka, Turkish flag) are the immigrants who came to Northern Cyprus since Turkey’s invasion. Everybody else (mostly of Turkish heritage) isn’t Turkish because they come from the island of Cyprus and not Turkey, hence they’re Cypriot.

If you shagged someone from the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, you got the Cypriot flag.

The only lasting peace will be in the form of a standstill unless Turkey renounces her support for the TRNC. When that day comes, reunification talks will resume.

Flags of the World, European flags, Cypriot flag, Greek flag, Turkish flag

Cue dramatic movie preview voice, “In a world where you get to live and work on multimillion dollar yachts, travel to the crème de la creamiest of world locations, cruising the Med in summer, the Caribbean in winter, and get paid well for it. Welcome to the super yacht industry.”

Living in Palma de Mallorca, one of the world’s super yacht Mecca’s, has given me insight into how the world’s richest 0.00001 percent and their crews live. Could this be the flagging utopia one imagines?

What draws people together from such diverse longitudes on land to pursue the same latitudes on water? Their love of adventure, their love of sailing and their love of the water – these people are called “yachties.”

Super yachts voyage to all four corners of the globe; however, the majority of yachting crews come from the same 5-10 nations. With such a highly concentrated anglophile population in the industry, it’s the usual suspects of world nationalities that make up these mobile anglophile enclaves.

It’s part colonial history and part geographical positioning of these countries that primarily makes the super yacht industry to be made up of Antipodeans, and it’s colonial mother. All countries share the same adventurous blood type. Nationalities most likely to bump into in a yachtie port:

1. United Kingdom
2. Australia
3. South Africa
4. New Zealand
5. United States

Significant numbers and nationalities are harder to define for the second group. Also, second group numbers would rise and fall depending on which port you’re in. Honourable mentions include:

1. France
2. Spain
3. Canada
4. Netherlands
5. Philippines 

It’s interesting to note that while most super yachts are registered in one of the many tax havens of the world (The Cayman Islands, Antigua, The Bahamas, Malta, Isle of Man, Jersey, Canary Isles, and the UAE to name a few), these exclusive nations make up a tiny percentage of the crews in the industry.

Yachties are an interesting bunch. Most live by a “work hard, play hard” attitude that produces a sizeable amount of debauchery. And let’s face it:  when you’re seeing life through the eyes of a billionaire, why wouldn’t you? The shagging potential in the yachting scene is high, and with so much time spent at sea, I’d be carpe-diem-ing the fuck out of it too when I got back on land.

Imagine living and working with the same people 24/7 – if you’re lucky you might get some hot crewmembers to help starve off boredom and seasickness. There are lots of hot stewardesses out there riding the high seas. If there weren’t any on my yacht when I got back on land, I’d want to compress my life by pressing the rewind button too.

Because of the disturbingly high number of antipodeans and ubiquitous yachtie hangouts the world over, the flagging potential is lower than one would think, unless you employ one of two strategies. 1) Mostly hang out with other foreigners (i.e. non-natives of the country you’re in), or 2) Mostly hang out with the locals.

But if meeting people from exotic countries doesn’t interest you, I’m sure you’d have an antipodean buffet of fun from port to port and more stories than Odysseus after living in this water world.

For some, seeing the world on turquoise waterways is a dream. For others, it might feel like a floating Alcatraz. Yachties will tell you “everything is better on water,” and from what I’ve seen, they have a pretty good time on land as well!

Flags of the World, European flags, Spanish flag

By The Hunger

I doubt Woody Harrelson and Woody Allen speak the same way. So why would they write, text, or email the same? In the English language, everyone has the same 26 letters to work with. But word choice and how you punctuate those words make up your instinctive alphabet.

How many times have you re-read and re-re-read an email or text a girl has sent you, or one you sent to her, especially one you really like? If you’re reading the invisible ink between the lines, I bet she’s doing the same thing trying to interpret what you meant by the double question mark, or the smiley face, or the word kiss as opposed to the letter x or xxx. Someone’s understanding of the same text can be as mystifying and misinterpreted as Stone Age wall carvings.

Are you a dot dot dotter… are you a double question mark man?? Are you a LOLer? Think back to past relationships, you’ll realise everyone’s texting and sexting styles leave a trail of invisible text. Some you love, some you hate.

Flags of the World, European flags, Spanish flag

By Atlas Al

At the moment, the North Caucasus is one of the most dangerous regions in the world. Chechen rebel leader, Doku Umarov, the self-proclaimed 1^st Emir of the Caucasus Emirate (comprising of Chechnya, Dagestan, Ingushetia, North Ossetia and other smaller territories), claimed responsibility for the March 29, 2010 Moscow subway terror attacks.

Whether Umarov is directly or indirectly involved, Russia has been plagued by continued terrorism:

–March 31, 2010: back-to-back bombs kill many civilians and police officers near government buildings in the neighboring province of Dagestan.

–April 5, 2010: in Ingushetia, a suicide bomber kills police officers outside a police station, followed by a nearby car bomb.

–April 5, 2010: explosion derails a train in North Caucasus.

It’s unfortunate that Russia indirectly created the very suicide bombers that killed 40 people and wounded 60 others in the Moscow subway attack – think of the tens of thousands of men who died during the First and Second Chechen wars.

The Shahidka (aka Black Widows) is a group of Islamist Chechen women, many of whom lost their husbands during the Chechen wars. Umarov must lack the resources – either in manpower or funds – to launch a third Russo-Chechen war if he’s employing female suicide bombers in a terror campaign against the Russian people. Umarov said in an online video, “The war will come to your streets, and you feel it for yourselves and with your own lives.”

For over one hundred years, Chechnya has been trying to replicate their own revolution from the hands of the USSR and then later the Russian Federation. If actions speak louder than words, Chechnya is screaming at Russia to let them govern themselves.

Russia is in a tough situation. They don’t want to grant Chechen independence because other regions will demand theirs as well, plus Chechnya has a role in Russia’s oil production and distribution.

During the 1990s, Russian President Boris Yeltsin told Chechnya they were ineligible to become a separate country because they were never sovereign (i.e. never conquered) like the other 14 states that separated from the USSR in 1991. Russia considers Chechnya a part of their homeland, just like the United States considers North Dakota a part of its homeland despite the fact it was actually the Sioux tribe’s land for centuries before.

One sure way to end the terrorism is to let the Chechen people vote if they want to stay with Russia or become an independent state. Results of the vote could go either way. France, for example, will allow its citizens from the Pacific island of New Caledonia to vote in an independence referendum beginning in 2014.

A vote to stay with Russia would quell the violence. However, if Russia hasn’t yet offered a vote for independence, it’s because Russia believes they’ll lose. The population of Russians in Chechnya has dwindled over the years creating a Chechen majority – over 90%, meaning most of those Chechens will probably vote in favor of independence.

I’m all for independence movements, but the way forward is not with suicide bombers. Only with the help of sympathetic sovereign states will Chechnya achieve its goal. They should woo the international community for support.

To anyone attempting to lay claim to the Chechen flag: check yo self! Chechnya is not independent; they’re required to speak Russian, they have Russian passports, they’re a province of greater Russia.

Shag someone from Chechnya, you get the Russian flag.

Flags of the World, European flags, Russian flag

By Atlas Al

Gonzalo Pizarro and his nephew Francisco de Orellana, endured disease, hunger, attacks from Amazonian tribes, and for what? Apart from women, the only other thing that could drive men to do insane things is the acquisition of wealth. The Spanish conquistadors heard reports from the locals about a “lost city of gold,” east of Quito. They called it: El Dorado.

Finding a lost city of gold won’t likely happen soon. But what if there were a city, or a city in each country, home to the most beautiful women of that country? Could an “El Dorado of…” actually exist, and if it did, would it inspire men to leave their shores in search of the most gorgeous women in the world?

I’ve seen such cities.

Yesterday, I returned from a long Easter weekend from Karlstad, Sweden. My buddy grew up on the island of Hammarö (just south of Karlstad) and bragged many times of the Karlstad “brand” of women.

The Hunger wrote a great piece not too long ago called Human Roulette in which he compares women from certain countries to brands of certain products. Many brands don’t specialize in just one product. Sony, for example, makes everything from television sets, DVD players, and stereo equipment, to mobile phones and laptop computers. Likewise, a country (brand) can also produce many different products (cities).

When The Hunger and I were backpacking South America in 2007, we heard several reports of the most beautiful women coming from Rosario; Argentina’s third largest city. One report – coming from a taxi driver in Salta – promised 8 women for every guy, and trust me, I would’ve been happily disappointed with 2:1 odds.

We didn’t hesitate at the backtracking bus journey. The allure of such a stunning place inspired a flagging sexpedition to confirm the reports with our own eyes. And I swear on the domain name of this blog… the reports were true. Hunger and I saw the best Argentina had to offer walking in its streets, shopping malls (where we picked up two hot saleswomen), bars, and outdoor festivals. It’s no coincidence the Monumento Nacional a la Bandera – Argentina’s National Flag Memorial – is situated in Rosario.

Don’t get me wrong. There are heaps of beautiful women in Buenos Aires and Cordoba. Yet they don’t give us a true sample of Argentina’s women. The “El Dorado” might be, but most likely won’t be, in a country’s biggest or second biggest city. Urban areas attract more foreigners – either immigrants or tourists – and people from neighboring cities than rural areas do; therefore, major metropolises do not give us a true sample of the country’s finest women. Essentially what we’re asking is, “Which city do the hottest (insert country) girls come from”?

During the course of my travels so far, I’ve visited Stockholm and Gothenburg. Quaint, little Karlstad beats both of them in terms of the hottest Swedish girls I’ve ever seen. You know you don’t have to go to Karlstad to see the Karlstad brand. 70,000 Swedes live and work in Oslo and many are from nearby Karlstad. Because of this, Oslo doesn’t give us a true sample of Norwegian women.

It’s not 1541 anymore. However, an appreciated tip could lead you on an unexpected sexpedition in search of a flagging-esque El Dorado.

[If you know of any “El Dorado’s” around the world, especially in your own country, please share below for all to read.]

Flags of the World, European flags, Swedish flag, Argentinean flag

All prejudices have a root. Carrot top, carrot head, fire crotch, ginger minge, to be beaten like a ginger stepchild. It never occurred to me redheads had it so bad.

While tracing the origins of redhead racism may prove difficult, it does occur and is more common than you think. Websites such as gingerism.com, redandproud.com, and realmofredheads.com provide insight into everything red.

Recently, I read an article on gingerism.com, Reds and Blacks Psychologically Different?, by a British blogger who compared redhead racism to black skin racism – i.e. those of African descent. They argue that society deems it inappropriate and inexcusable to make racial slurs against black people (which I agree with, it’s unacceptable), but that society is more or less tolerant of redhead wisecracks. It’s obvious the blogger wants society to be more offended when people make a racially charged joke about someone’s hair color.

To write for a blog called gingerism.com, it’s a good bet the author is a fed up redhead who’s had their fair share of jokes. I don’t even have red hair and I’m offended when people make derogatory comments or commit violent acts against redheads. My mother, two younger brothers, uncles, aunts, and cousins happen to have varying shades of red hair. You’re also offending my future children as redheadedness can skip a generation.

Asians, Africans, Arabs, indigenous peoples of the Americas, and South Pacific islanders all have black hair. Borrrrrring. Having light-colored hair among billions of black-haired people is extremely exotic. Compared to the total human population, brown, blond, auburn, and red haired peoples are rare, and the rarest of these natural colors are the redheads.

Most redheads come from Europe or have genetic ties to Europe, and most of them come from western or northern Europe. Ireland is home to the second largest population of redheads in the world, making up 10% of their population and over 40% carrying the gene. Yet you don’t have to go to Ireland to spot a redhead.

Saint Patrick’s Day parades and celebrations are held each March 17th around the world. At no other time of the year will you see so many Irish people and Irish culture enthusiasts. I’m sure there’s good reason and meaning as to why the Republic of Ireland chose green, white, and orange to represent their country. From a flagging perspective, however, the reason is more than obvious.

I’ll guess the reason they chose green was because Ireland is such a green country. Where could the inspiration for orange come from? Hair. Varying combinations of red, white, and blue seems to be the trendy color scheme for country flags. Not many countries use orange. The Republic of Ireland’s founding fathers knew what they were doing. They realized that not only would people celebrate Irish culture on St. Paddy’s Day, they’d look like walking talking human flags. No other country in the world can do this naturally, and when I say naturally, I mean without face paint or other gimmicks. When a redheaded Irish person wears a green shirt, they are the spinning image of their country’s flag.

Why people with red hair aren’t more admired or sought after is shocking. If you are red, you should be proud. The Netherlands even hosts an annual party called Redhead Day attracting more and more participants each year.

Redheadedness is not something to shy away from even though some of them look like their heads are on fire. Redheads spice up the human race.

Flags of the World, European flags, Irish flag

Kosovo declared independence from Serbia on February 17^th, 2008. Does this make them an internationally recognized sovereign state? No, it does not.

While countries buy advertising space on CNN to attract foreign direct investment, Kosovo seeks statehood recognition. (Watch here.) One of these commercials showed people from around the world congratulating Kosovo on its independence, or second birthday. Miss Kosovo 2009 (2^nd place in The Miss Universe competition) even said a few words. When I saw this for the first time I was like, “What the hell, Kosovo’s not a country!” And how can someone compete in an international beauty pageant that doesn’t even represent a legitimate country? – which will be the topic of another blog post entirely.

Their marketing tactics are professional-looking and convincing, but are misleading. If what they wanted was for people to be confused and ask themselves, “Is Kosovo really a country,” they’ve succeeded.

In the aftermath of the Kosovo War, the United Nations Security Council passed Resolution 1244 in 1999. The creation of this resolution is significant because it clearly recognizes Serbia’s sovereignty (at the time it was called the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia) over its southern province of Kosovo.

Wikipedia’s article on the United Nations Security Council’s Resolution 1244 says it best, “Reference to the Article 1 of the Helsinki Accord places high value on the Sovereignty of the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia with Kosovo recognized as an autonomous province. In a similar fashion the references to autonomy in 1244 articles points to a final goal of essentially returning Kosovo to the pre-1999 status of autonomous province within the Serbian legal framework.”

Currently, the UN maintains a peacekeeping presence in Kosovo, but they won’t be there forever. They will leave. If the UN didn’t have peacekeepers in Kosovo or in the general region right now, I bet there’d be another war in the Balkans. Look what happened after the USA declared its independence from Britain: a war ensued.

Kosovo is definitely playing their cards right. They see a chance for independence since the State Union of Serbia & Montenegro dissolved into a separate Serbia and a separate Montenegro in 2006. They’re not going to claim their independence when the UN peacekeepers have already left.

What interests me most is what Serbia will do in the coming years. So far, they’ve peacefully petitioned Kosovo’s independence claim with the International Court of Justice. If Kosovo doesn’t get its way being the “newly born”, “young Europeans” they claim to be, will they split anyway? I highly doubt Serbia will allow another loss of territory nearly the same size as Montenegro to happen again.

Unlike Montenegro’s peaceful split that had international approval, the international community does not fully endorse Kosovo’s independence movement. It’s true that some 65 countries recognize Kosovan sovereignty, including the United States, most of Europe, Japan, and Australia. Unfortunately though, 65 out of roughly 193 countries is not majority recognition.

The promising so-called Republic of Kosovo has become a member of The World Bank and the International Monetary Fund among other organizations, and that’s great. I predict Kosovo will be the next region of the world to gain independence; it’s only a matter of time.

However, claiming independence and being independent are completely different scenarios. Until that day comes, if you shagged someone from the Autonomous Province of Kosovo and Metohija, you got the Serbian flag.

Flags of the World, European flags, Serbian flag

By Atlas Al

Months ago, I asked my English buddy, aka Philthy, which flags he’d like to hook up with. His wish list was more than ambitious. Yet, the problem with having too many goals is that you won’t start any of them. You become overwhelmed with the mounting tasks, and deciding where to start becomes a mission in and of itself.

Similarly – if you’ll excuse my tangent – I dislike restaurants that specialize in everything and anything. We’ve all been to eateries that offer a combination of Chinese food, lasagna, tacos, hot dogs, hamburgers, gyros, English breakfast, healthy salads, all on the same menu. I mean seriously, pick something and make the very best _____. If I’m in the mood for pizza, I’ll go to the place that just specializes in pizza. The point is that sometimes it’s better to be focused on one thing rather than firing off a shotgun of goals hoping to hit something.

My next question was more direct, “If you could hook up with any two foreign chicks right now, which ones would they be?”

“Sweden and Ireland.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. By making a conscious, focused goal, Philthy’s flag radar will subconsciously pick up signals from Swedish and Irish chicks. I believe two flags is a solid goal; one is too few and three is too many.

When examining your own radar, you should take into consideration the probability of capturing such flags. I’d like to hook up with lots of different women from lots of different countries, but it’s unlikely I’ll hook up with a Brazilian whilst living in Norway because there aren’t many here.

Flagging radars are location specific.

At the moment, the two flags I’m gunning for are Iceland and Finland. If I were living and working in Panama, for example, I’d probably go for the Panamanian and Costa Rican flags. If I did a 6 week backpacking trip to Eastern Europe, my radar would be constantly changing for the duration of the trip. My radar would then revert back to Icelandic and Finnish upon returning to Oslo.

Like sonar technology, radars emit a wavelength – usually a radio wave. When the wavelength hits something, it bounces back with information on that something’s size and distance. Objects show up on the stereotypical circular radar screen that displays moving bright green or white images. As the radar refreshes with receding and approaching blips on the screen, we have a clear idea of what’s nearby.

When I first arrived in Norway, I was aiming for Norwegian and Finnish flags. In December 2009, I hooked up with a Norwegian chick – since then I’m able to lay claim to the Scandinavian trifecta of flags and had to reset my flag radar. These days I’m keeping an eye out for Finnish and Icelandic chicks.

When – not if – Philthy gets either the Swedish or Irish flags, he must then reset his radar.

And would you believe it: he finally got his Swedish. He told me he still seeks out Irish women, but would like to hook up with a Danish as well. Updating your personal flagging radar after each new flag is just as important as activating it in the first place.

[This post refers to Suggestion 1 of the Constitution of Flagging]

Flags of the World, European flags

By The Hunger

The other day, I was having drinks with a buddy when three Germans sat down next to us. We got to chatting and my friend didn’t let on he spoke more languages than C3PO, one of them of course being German.

After about 20 minutes he began “sprechender Deutscher” and it worked like conversational Viagra. Almost instantly, the conversation possibilities swelled like an offshore break at Waimea.

As a non-German speaker, I felt like the adopted son of the Von Trapp family. Even so, I was happy enough to sit and play wingman. Not knowing the language as a sidekick proved to be more difficult than explaining the rules of cricket to a Frenchman.

I thought my performance was good: I laughed at appropriate times, let out the occasional “wunderbar” or “schadenfreude” to show them I too was interested in playing the game of lingua franca. I even told them I shared the same birthday as German pop sensation, Scooter, so you can imagine their interest in me.

They took more pics of my mate than the paparazzi take of Kim Kardashian’s ass, while I recall being pushed out of photo-ops several times! Then came the never-ending German folk songs. I tried to give my best rendition of “Die Eine” but stopped when one of them pulled out a clarinet to drown me out. It wasn’t long before C3PO started teaching them German folk songs even they didn’t know. This was my cue to leave.

On the way home, I replayed the night’s proceedings on my internal TiVo. I toyed with the idea of learning German, becoming a German scholar, and inventing a new word even the Germans hadn’t thought of. They’d treat me like a king, no doubt give me a free Mercedes sportscar, and allow me to use Neuschwanstein as a summer house. But then I returned to sobriety: why would I want to learn German?

English as a second language is a billion dollar industry with many people around the world eager to decipher the ways of the west. However, as a native English speaker, I ask myself: what are the real benefits of learning a foreign language?

1. It’ll allow me to communicate with locals of that country.
2. I’ll increase my food options when traveling.
3. It might help me win more pieces of pie in Trivial Pursuit or win at international scrabble.
4. I’ll be able to read the articles in German Playboy.

Some people proclaim English is King, and for sheer practicality in the 21^st century, it is. But for those who want to extend the possibilities of their world, you know what I’m talking about.

I speak some French; I can’t stress the some here enough. Sadly, I’m not a natural linguist. Even though I did an Erasmus exchange in France for 6 months, worked and lived in the South of France for a couple of months, and even had a French girlfriend from Reunion Island for 9 months, my French level oscillates between mildly retarded and a big question mark. Still, I think it’s a great language and I love to hear it being spoken the way it was intended. With that said, my limited French has opened more doors than Willy Wonka.

Most rookie linguists soon realize that most people speak more English than their Greek, Polish, Swahili, Hindi (insert language here). Language is more than black and white on a page. It’s the mentality/philosophy and world understanding of the people who speak it, and unlike sovereign states, there are no borders.

To be able to speak a foreign language, you have to think like the people who created it. That’s why everyone should attempt to learn a second tongue at some stage in their life. It allows the learner to understand how others think, the humor, the lifestyle, the weather, the food; all these are defined in some way by the lingo.

Languages are verbal passports into different altitudes of communication. Language offers the chance for mutual understanding of an idea, feeling, or situation, sometimes in ways your own doesn’t allow. (i.e. the film Lost in Translation.)

So which language to learn? The logical conclusion is usually French, Spanish, German, Italian, Chinese, or Arabic – the most popular ones, right? Wrong, because everybody else is already learning them.

My theory: learn the language and history of a lesser-known country.

Croatia, Czech Republic, Greece, Estonia, Latvia, Ukraine, Malta, or any other country where there aren’t ubiquitous Southern Crosses, Stars and Stripes, or Union Jacks.

Let’s use Bosnia as an example.

Imagine you’re at a house party. You look across the room and see a cute girl. Ten other guys take turns to speak to her. One guy yells over the music, “Is Bosnia like in the South Pacific or something?” Holy crap, you find out she’s from Bosnia and Herzegovina and more importantly you speak some Bosnian. Unlike the first waves of flirtatious failures, you know that Franz Ferdinand is more than some indie rock group from Scotland. Who is she going to want to talk to more? YOU.

When you banter in basic Bosnian about the correct spelling of cevapcic, and when one of the other guys launches into the conversation with, “Bosnia, that’s a war zone isn’t it,” all of a sudden you look like a star.

You need not be able to speak the language fluently or be able to explain the future subjunctive, just a keen interest to learn something new.

If you have a certain penchant for a country and you meet that particular flag at home or abroad, you’ll stand a far better chance than someone who’s never thought beyond their postcode because you’ve already found something in common.

Flags of the World, European flags, Bosnian flag