Barnes. Pdf

Letter 7 
Dearest Pippa - 
Bloody jungle. It just doesn't give up. Bloody clouds of flies and biting things and humming whatsits and for the first 
couple of weeks you think how extraordinary, well it doesn't matter 
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getting bitten, everyone else is, except Matt with his NASA US-Govt issue personal mosquito repellent and corned-beef face-
protector. But they just go on and on and bloody on. After a while you just want the Jungle to take a day off. Go on, Jungle, it's 
Sunday, knock it off, you want to shout as it rattles on 24 hrs per day. I don't know. Maybe it's not the Jungle it's the film. You 
can feel the tension mounting. Matt and me getting edgier with one another off camera as well as on. The film's all spilling 
over into the rest of the time. Even the Indians don't seem so sure that I'm not Firmin all the time and Matt's Antonio. It's as if 
they think I'm really Firmin and then from time to time I just pretend to be this white man called Charlie. Really upside down. 
Sunday. That thing about the Indians. To tell you the truth I was a bit miffed when I found out, but now I'm beginning to 
see it from their point of view. I told you I was learning the language - she's really very sweet and not a stitch on but as I said 
no need to worry, angel, riddled with diseases I'm sure, apart from anything else, I mean. It turns out that half the words she's 
been teaching me are all wrong. I mean, they're real words except they're not the right ones. The first thing I learnt more or less 
was thkarni which means - well she said it meant - this white stork we've been seeing a lot of. So when we saw one go flapping 
by I used to shout thkarni and the Indians would all laugh. Turns out - and I learned this not through Miguel but our second 
guide who hasn't said much most of the trip - that thkarni is the Indians' name - well, one of their many names, to be precise - 
for you-know-what. The thing up which the little fish in the river swims if you aren't careful. Same goes for about half the 
words I've been learning from that little minx. I've learnt about 60 I suppose overall and half of them are duds - naughty words 
or words for something completely different. I was majorly unpleased as you can imagine at the time but I think what it does 

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J
ULIAN 
B
ARNES
: A History of the World in 10 ½
 
Chapters 
67
show is that the Indians have got a terrific sense of humour. So I was determined to show them I could take a joke and the next 
time a big stork went over I pretended not to know what it was called and asked my girl. Thkarni she said 
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with a straight face. I looked very puzzled and shook my head a lot and said No it can't be thkarni because this is thkarni (no I 
didn't pull it out or anything - just pointed). And then she knew the game was up and started giggling, and so did I to show 
there weren't any hard feelings. 
Monday. Getting near the end now. Just the big scene to do. Taking two days off first. I think that's a silly decision by Vic 
but I expect he's got the unions on his back. He says it's a good idea to recharge the batteries before the big scene. I think if 
you're on a roll you better go with the flow. It's all right, honey, I don't really talk like that, I do it to irritate Matt, though it 
usually doesn't because he's so thick-skinned and thinks everyone else talks like that anyway, so I guess I do it for my own 
private amusement. `Hey, Matt,' I say to him, `We're on a roll, let's go with the flow', and he nods like some old prophet in The 
Ten Commandments. Anyway the plan is today and tomorrow off, then two days rehearsal for the capsizing of the raft, then 
Friday the big deal. Maybe Vic is right after all, we do need to be at our best. It's not just doing it right it's covering all the 
angles. We've got to have ropes on us as per contract in case anything happens. Don't worry darling it's not really dangerous. 
We're doing some covering footage on a stretch of the river where there are some rapids, but the actual capsizing which is 
meant to happen there doesn't really. The crew have got a couple of machines which churn everything up to make white water 
and the chippie ran up some rocks which they anchor to the bottom of the river and look just like the real thing. So no need to 
worry. I'm quite looking forward to it though naturally we've had a few of the old arguments about it. What happens is that 
both the priests get tipped into the water, one of them hits his head on a rock and the other one rescues him. Point is, who does 
what? I mean, here are these two, fighting tooth and nail all the way upstream, there's this huge split of doctrine going on, one 
of them v. authoritarian and hardline (Me) and the other very permissive and soft on the Indians (Matt). I think it would be 
much more effective if the one who was meant to be the hardhat and who might be expected to let the other one drown 
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in fact saves the other one even though he thinks his ideas about the Indians and his plan to baptise them when they get to the 
Orinoco are blasphemous. But no, it has to be Matt who saves me. Vic says that's what's historically the case, and Matt says 
that's what was in the script he read back in Dudesville North Dakota or wherever he hangs his hat and that's what he's going to 
play. `Nobody rescues Matt Smeaton,' he said. He actually said it, can you imagine? `Nobody rescues Matt Smeaton.' I said I'd 
remember that if ever I found him dangling upside down by one toe from a ski-lift cable. So it's all going to go ahead as per the 
script.
Tuesday. Another rest day.
Later 
Later
Later 
- love Charlie