Cathy Alexander, formerly of the Burnie Advocate, now in Peru.
The intrigued inquisitors then demand details. Is it a real animal? What does it look like? What does it eat? Is it dangerous to humans? Does it really run around in circles?
A BOLIVIAN highlander might be excused for not having heard of Tasmania. For South Americans, Tasmania is an island off an island in the far corner of the map.
To my surprise, however, most Bolivian highlanders have heard of Tasmania – and they´re usually fascinated to meet a Tasmanian. The reason for this impressive knowledge of far-flung destinations? Warner Brothers and the Tasmanian lion.
“Where are you from?” the friendly South Americans ask.
“From Australia, from Tasmania,” I say.
“Tasmania? Like Taz, the Tasmanian devil?” they reply, delighted. They unfailingly tell me I am the first Tasmanian they have met, which makes me suspect that other Tasmanian backpackers are coy about their origins. I’m not. I enjoy a spot of celebrity, however ill-deserved.
In my four month-long ramble from Tierra del Fuego to Peru, I have met few people who have not heard of Taz, Warner Bros´ version of the Tasmanian devil.
Some details about the devil have been blurred in its transformation into an international cartoon star. Most South Americans refer to it as el demonio de Tasmania (the Tasmanian demon). They don’t use el diablo (the devil). A surprisingly large number of people have gained the impression Taz is el leon de Tasmania (the Tasmanian lion). No, I say. From a zoological perspective it´s not particularly lion-esque.
Does it really run around in circles
The intrigued inquisitors then demand details. Is it a real animal? What does it look like? What does it eat? Is it dangerous to humans? Does it really run around in circles?
I tell them it´s small, a bit like a dog, and it eats carrion (“like the condor”), it´s not dangerous to humans, and it runs around in circles and makes strange noises.
Usually by this time the whole bus is listening, enthralled, and someone is translating from Spanish into Quechua for Grandma. “She says she’s from Tasmania and Taz is a real animal!” I overhear. “But it can´t be true, Taz is a cartoon” someone hisses back.
I do not tell them the devils are dying from a grotesque, transmittable facial cancer. It would introduce an unnecessarily depressing note into a light-hearted conversation.
So for any Tasmanian contemplating an international sojourn, rest assured that wherever people have access to TV, you will be feted. Other Australians do not fare so well. Most South Americans have heard of Sydney, but the rest of the country is a blank.
“Where are you from?” the friendly South Americans ask the girl sitting next to me on the bus.
“From Australia, from Adelaide,” she said.
“Oh” they say. There is a pause.
“And where are you from?” they ask me.
I clear my throat and prepare to take centre stage.
