Spirits of adventure

By JIM EAGLES

My desk at the Herald is easy to recognise as the occasional abode of the travel editor. It is covered with oddball souvenirs.

But, I hasten to add, I haven't bought any of them myself. They've all been acquired thanks to a custom I've initiated that anyone going on a free trip should bring me back a cheap, tacky, bizarre souvenir.

This has produced some fascinating material.

The most bizarre is undoubtedly the recently arrived cigarette lighter from Vietnam.

It features a picture of the World Trade Centre with an aircraft flying towards it, the date 9/11 and a gold relief portrait of Osama bin Laden.

When you open the lighter a red light flickers at the impact point on the building and it plays a lively version of Fur Elise.

Charming.

Probably the most spectacular souvenir is the bright green mosque alarm clock from Dubai which signals the time with a loud recording of a muezzin calling the faithful to prayer.

In a previous job I occasionally used it to summon sleepy staff to a 7.30am meeting. It worked remarkably well.

Another musical gem is a silver merlion from Singapore which when turned on flashes red and green lights and plays a painfully high-pitched tune. I've never found out what the tune is because of the shouts of protest which rise up whenever it is played.

There's a peculiar fascination about such tasteless objects which is why I keep them on display.

At first sight they make you wonder who on earth would buy such extraordinary examples of bad taste.

Why would anyone want a carved wooden Fijian warrior notable mainly for the giant genitalia concealed under his removable shield?

Well I have one on display.

Or, also from Fiji, what would you do with a cannibal fork delicately carved in hardwood?

Why would someone visiting Australia want to bring back a pile of koala droppings sealed inside a clear plastic paperweight?

Or a bright yellow letter-rack shaped like a bunch of bananas?

Or a large plastic platypus key ring with a bright blue beak?

Or a cockle shell smoking a cigar?

Or ... no, I do see the point of the happily smiling orange pumpkin made of rubber which can be squeezed and pummelled at moments of stress ... it's been well used.

But what about the rest?

Bizarre mementoes are obviously popular because you find them everywhere.

Even - though the standard of New Zealand souvenirs has hugely improved in recent years - right here.

One of my colleagues claims to have spotted a paua shell boomerang in a kiwiana shop.

What's that about?

Are such things mainly purchased as jokes - or even subtle insults - for friends and relations?

Or do people actually put them on display as mementoes of a fabulous holiday?

"Hey, that block of koala dung reminds me of the Sunshine Coast, gee that was a great trip."

I guess so.

After all, the primary object of a souvenir is to remind you of a place you visited - or to remind some relative or friend that you went there and thought of them - and a humorous, bizarre or bad-taste object will do that as well as some expensive objet d'art.

Most souvenirs are probably condemned to gather dust for a few years before being promoted to the great souvenir shop in the sky so you might as well get something that raises a laugh and doesn't cost a lot.

But some people I know take a different approach and buy souvenirs that will have a bit more staying power. They seek out things like CDs, paintings, musical instruments, dolls, pottery or woodcarvings which - like those good old regulars, teaspoons, snowstorms or bells - combine to form a collection of lasting interest.

In recent years I've started collecting gods and religious symbols from the countries I've visited.

Weird, maybe, but they're always intriguing, most are beautifully made and they surely contain something of the spirit of the land from which they are drawn.

So, from Zimbabwe there's the spirit of the Zambezi River, nyaminyami, and what they call the Zim bird, hungwe the fish eagle, first found in the ruins of old Zimbabwe and now the symbol of the nation (and, I might add, a cousin of mine).

They also have evil spirits called, I think, tokelosh, so powerful that tour drivers won't allow them on board, so I resisted the temptation to buy one, fearing the worst on the flight home.

From Hongkong I've got a particularly serene bronze Buddha guarded by temple lions from Singapore and Myanmar.

Also from Myanmar, a place particularly rich in spirits, there's a Shan goddess and the king of the nats, the spirits that ruled the land before the arrival of Buddhism.

India provided a wonderful bronze of Vishnu whose many-armed character encompasses the many sides of human nature.

In Indonesia I bought a delicately carved garuda, king of the eagles (another cousin), and a primitive elephant man from Irian Jaya.

From Peru there's an Inca totem poll with the condor (representing the Inca) at the pinnacle, with a human, a puma and an anaconda, representing the spirit world, at the base.

I've also got a sort of totem poll from Australia, a carving of a man with a spirit bird on his shoulders, from the Northern Territory.

Various Pacific Islands have each provided their own distinctive carvings of ancient figures long since displaced by Christianity.

In Prague I got a replica 13th-century crucifix, from Norwich a replica of a medieval gargoyle and from Hampshire an ancient green man.

And ... but you get the picture.

Each one reminds me of a unique adventure but I also think each is interesting to look at in itself.

So that's one person's somewhat idiosyncratic idea of souvenirs.

What do you collect?

Send your souvenir stories - bizarre or fascinating things you've seen or bought - to travel@nzherald.co.nz and share them around.