My manager is 20.
My work mates are slightly older ( shame on them)
I feel like I was born in the 18th Century and woke up last week.
You know you don't take responsibilty for your age when you hesitate more than 2 seconds to answer the question
'' How old are you ? ''
I usually say '' younger than Lee''. It makes me feels better.
So yeah , I feel like I've been asleep for about 185 years.
What? We don't buy fish tanks anymore nowadays ?
No. We buy a DVD.
Just select Menu... Aquarium, fish noise and there you are. Finding Nemo or saving Willy . It saves to feed the fish and you also have the log fire option for Winter.
Awesome.
Where have I been the past 10 years.
So of course on my first evening shift back I pretended to be 20 and know it all.
'' You guys go out, mummy can handle this''
Why is that thing ringing? it's a digital PHOTO ALBUM. Is it REALLY supposed to be an ALARM CLOCK too? And why 9pm? Probably to wake ME up. It was 10 minutes past my bed time anyway.
So... what would a 20 year old do in this case? Touch the screen. That's it.
After 2 long minutes of pure laughter the other staff decided to tell me.
'' You know there is an on and off switch...right?''
Sure.
Then came the reminders by email. There is a Google reminder for everything nowadays. Forgot to breathe? Ask Google to remind you.
'' Charge the electric sweeper''
mmm what? Is that the thing we used to call a vacuum cleaner?
NO it's an electric SWEEPER. aaaaaaaaaah okay I understand better now.
Kipps 2.1 . That's where I was.
Annabelle 0.1. That's who I was.
'' Can we please have another key to our room ''Madame?'' says one of our french regulars.
Ma.... what?
So you're talking to me right? M.A.D.A.M.E...... You know I kicked people out of this hostel for less than that?
Annabelle 0.1
I had to do something
32 going on 23...
So what do ''youngsters'' do nowadays. ( When you start calling them youngsters it can only go wrong)
How did I know I was doing well? I gained 6 Facebook friends in 6 days.
Annabelle 1.1
It's all about attitude.
What do you do when you wake up and there's a drunk English guy sleeping on your living room floor? You take a picture , put it on Facebook , make your coffee and go back to your room. Of course.
If I know him? Actually yeah. He's a friend.
How did he get the keys? They get passed around. In 6 days I shared the flat with 2 German girls , a Spanish dude and my English best friend. How much fun.
It's all about attitude.
But I had yet to make up for my lack of new technology knowledge. SO I bought a smart phone.
Buying it was already an adventure.
'' I want that one'' . I say to the guy pointing towards a million phones
'' You mean the Alcatel OT-980, madam?''
Piss off.
50 quid later ( yeah I can't eat this week but that's the choice a 20 year old would make right?
Smartphone VS surviving.... Food is SO last year.
So there I was , proudly holding my first piece of 21st century. I sat in the shopping centre for 30 minutes, playing with my new apps, going on facebook. How cool is that.
What 's my number? BECAUSE IT'S ALSO A PHONE? aaaaaaaah. No idea.
I finally gave up and called my hungover best friend so he can give me my new name. 07 something I believe.
The next day? I had no credit left. Who did I call? No one... Damn 3G ....
And how do you stop the bloody alarm anyway. So at 6 am you have to select menu , alarm , snooze. Seriously. Next time I'll buy one that picks up my voice '' Stop that bloody noise or I'll throw you out of the fucking window''
Annabelle 2.0
To be a perfect 20 year old in England you HAVE to wear a tiny mini skirt in the cold and rain. That's how you pass the '' party animal test''
So I did.
3 tequilas later I was dancing ON the bar at my work place with a hot gay Spanish guy drinking from the bottle. Who was filming? My boss. He can blackmail me for ever now. And it's just my first week back. Beat me , you youngsters.
Annabelle 2.1
Well I passed the test. Until I realized that there was no test. Just me thinking I was different. They always thought I was cool. In my own way.
We're all the same in the end. 20's, 30's , 40's.
Because guess what '' youngsters'' , it does not stop when you reach 30. That shit you feel. You just learn to deal with it .
After 30 you still wait for that guy you like to reply to your emails.
'' If he stops liking your facebook status that's it Dude. Move on''
Of course. Where have I been the past 10 years.
Yeah you need them , the 20 year olds. Just as they need you to listen to them , to make them feel secure because you bloody know what it's like not to be.
Because yes, after 30 you are still insecure. But you cover it up. You are still scared to wait for that text message that will never come. So You just don't buy a phone..... So you don't have to expect that there will be no text message. So you don't feel rejected. Twisted?
I can't wait to be 40.
That's when you need your 20 year olds to remind you '' Or you can just buy a phone and NOT give HIM the number''
That makes sense '' Dude'' ....
'' Or you can also face the fact'' says another one.
Face the What? Don't be silly.
So yeah , after 30 you're still scared shitless when you come back to your comfort zone and see that it's not there anymore. That all you thought you were , you no longer are.
SO you still drink yourself silly, eat yourself crazy to forget that how painful that all is. And how scared you are to re build it all.
But after 30 you know , somewhere deep inside that it's all bullshit. And guess what? It's YOUR bullshit.
There is no one and nothing else to blame for it ( Not even a little bit? NO.)
So you just shut up deal with it.
Painful? Tell ME about it.
So, until there is an App to deal with that I will look after my 20 year olds .
And until I can do it myself I will need my 20 year olds to help me move to my life ... 2.1
In the mean time you can still follow me on Twitter, Dude.
You know ,
A french girl discovering ze world, other cultures, people and herself...
Thursday, 8 September 2011
Friday, 2 September 2011
Same difference
'' So going back to an old routine then'' a friend of mine emailed me after I booked my ticket Home to England.
I already knew it would not be an old routine because :
1/ It's Brighton
2/ Everything changes
3/ it's Brighton
And how can it be an old routine with British humor in it ? Especially when your first conversation with an English man in England after 8 months sounds something like that :
ME '' Thanks for picking me up''
HIM '' I haven't even tried to pick you up . We're not even home yet''
Old routine? Hell no.
Brighton. Where no one gives a shit about what you look like , who you are and who you want to be. Yeah , it's great ! Except when you're just back from 6 months in Australia and 2 months in Thailand.
Hey I'm french. What? you don't give a f**** ? My forced french accent used to be s.e.x.y in Australia. What izz ze problem.
Hey look at me I'm pale skinned. What? So are you? I used to be the center of attention in Thai villages. Here , the only time a guy looked at me on the street was a drug addict who had his eyes closed
'' hey sis, you have a light?''
A humbling experience. So was my first day back at work at Kipps Hostel .
Yes I did follow everyone around with a pen and a paper. I could not even use the till.
Didn't you used to run this place before? Shut up.
No old routine there either.
Me , my pen and my paper were so nervous that I thought I was going to throw up the 265 instant coffees I had that morning. The rules were different. As in , not the same. As in '' if you think you're coming back to your comfort zone you're kidding yourself, love ''
The place looks so neat and EVERYONE seems to know what they're doing. Everyone but me. I've worked there the longest, and yet was on my first day.
" Shall I show you how to use the new Screen'' Oh God.... There are more New technologies here than in a supermarket in China. Did I tell him that I still can't use my fake Ipad properly?
Cigarette ? Sure ( I looked at the note on my hand. it said : Remember you stopped smoking.)
Shit
Another coffee? Hell yeah.
And then of course after a while of sweating , remote controlling and running around for no reason I realized. Different decoration , different staff , different rules but hey.... same atmosphere....
Kipps is another word for family. All you need to do is show up. The staff welcomes you , makes you so comfortable that you never want to leave again. Oh and if you ever consider leaving, their yum lasagna or pancakes will make you re consider. The next thing you know you have Canadian ,french, Swedish Romanian sisters, English Italian brothers, German cousins... Yes ,Kipps is the reason why you 'd chase a South African dude around Bangkok and become his official stalker. Because we're family, mate.
For the first time I could grasp the concept of Kipps family from the outside, like a guest would. Good job guys. And I give a 100% rating to everyone who made me feel like I was still a sister ( the first one who says mum will be forced to hoover for me for the next 15 days)
Everything changes but I've got good news for you. Some bonds remain...
My first check ins? Jet lagged Aussies fresh from the plane, Mate.
G'day!!!!!!! Of course I talked to them like... family. Because they were, also. That's my job and I absolutely still love it.
Everything changes but some bonds remain...
Me and my runners were on time this morning on the beach for my first day back at BMF bootcamp.
'' Who's in for a fitness test?''
Why not.
'' you've been traveling too long'' said my fitness instructor as I was agonizing. An hour later I could barely walk and had to reconsider my green bib from 8 month ago (the highest level) and swapped it for a blue bib ( the beginners level)
Shit. I've got to do it all again. Everything does f*** change.
Everything changes but some bonds remain....
'' you're coming to the Water ? '' says my crazy friend Kathy ( find yourself a cool nickname and I will change your name if you want ) as she was running towards the water with her clothes and runners on.
'' Water? As in... swim in the water in September at 7am in.... ENGLAND ?'' You're talking to an ex Aussie, mate. Are you mad??? No way. I'm going home.
10 seconds later I was in my underwear in the English Channel. Minus 10 Aussie degrees but how much fun.
'' We can go for a cup of tea now'' she says proudly as she was getting out of the water with her clothes and runners still on. Only the Brits ...
Yes, everything changes.And there is no such thing as going back to an old routine.
We can either ignore the change and hang on to a past that is no longer real, thus ignore all new opportunities people / life can offer you in the present.
Or you can take the risk and embrace it.
What have we got to loose?
I already knew it would not be an old routine because :
1/ It's Brighton
2/ Everything changes
3/ it's Brighton
And how can it be an old routine with British humor in it ? Especially when your first conversation with an English man in England after 8 months sounds something like that :
ME '' Thanks for picking me up''
HIM '' I haven't even tried to pick you up . We're not even home yet''
Old routine? Hell no.
Brighton. Where no one gives a shit about what you look like , who you are and who you want to be. Yeah , it's great ! Except when you're just back from 6 months in Australia and 2 months in Thailand.
Hey I'm french. What? you don't give a f**** ? My forced french accent used to be s.e.x.y in Australia. What izz ze problem.
Hey look at me I'm pale skinned. What? So are you? I used to be the center of attention in Thai villages. Here , the only time a guy looked at me on the street was a drug addict who had his eyes closed
'' hey sis, you have a light?''
A humbling experience. So was my first day back at work at Kipps Hostel .
Yes I did follow everyone around with a pen and a paper. I could not even use the till.
Didn't you used to run this place before? Shut up.
No old routine there either.
Me , my pen and my paper were so nervous that I thought I was going to throw up the 265 instant coffees I had that morning. The rules were different. As in , not the same. As in '' if you think you're coming back to your comfort zone you're kidding yourself, love ''
The place looks so neat and EVERYONE seems to know what they're doing. Everyone but me. I've worked there the longest, and yet was on my first day.
" Shall I show you how to use the new Screen'' Oh God.... There are more New technologies here than in a supermarket in China. Did I tell him that I still can't use my fake Ipad properly?
Cigarette ? Sure ( I looked at the note on my hand. it said : Remember you stopped smoking.)
Shit
Another coffee? Hell yeah.
And then of course after a while of sweating , remote controlling and running around for no reason I realized. Different decoration , different staff , different rules but hey.... same atmosphere....
Kipps is another word for family. All you need to do is show up. The staff welcomes you , makes you so comfortable that you never want to leave again. Oh and if you ever consider leaving, their yum lasagna or pancakes will make you re consider. The next thing you know you have Canadian ,french, Swedish Romanian sisters, English Italian brothers, German cousins... Yes ,Kipps is the reason why you 'd chase a South African dude around Bangkok and become his official stalker. Because we're family, mate.
For the first time I could grasp the concept of Kipps family from the outside, like a guest would. Good job guys. And I give a 100% rating to everyone who made me feel like I was still a sister ( the first one who says mum will be forced to hoover for me for the next 15 days)
Everything changes but I've got good news for you. Some bonds remain...
My first check ins? Jet lagged Aussies fresh from the plane, Mate.
G'day!!!!!!! Of course I talked to them like... family. Because they were, also. That's my job and I absolutely still love it.
Everything changes but some bonds remain...
Me and my runners were on time this morning on the beach for my first day back at BMF bootcamp.
'' Who's in for a fitness test?''
Why not.
'' you've been traveling too long'' said my fitness instructor as I was agonizing. An hour later I could barely walk and had to reconsider my green bib from 8 month ago (the highest level) and swapped it for a blue bib ( the beginners level)
Shit. I've got to do it all again. Everything does f*** change.
Everything changes but some bonds remain....
'' you're coming to the Water ? '' says my crazy friend Kathy ( find yourself a cool nickname and I will change your name if you want ) as she was running towards the water with her clothes and runners on.
'' Water? As in... swim in the water in September at 7am in.... ENGLAND ?'' You're talking to an ex Aussie, mate. Are you mad??? No way. I'm going home.
10 seconds later I was in my underwear in the English Channel. Minus 10 Aussie degrees but how much fun.
'' We can go for a cup of tea now'' she says proudly as she was getting out of the water with her clothes and runners still on. Only the Brits ...
Yes, everything changes.And there is no such thing as going back to an old routine.
We can either ignore the change and hang on to a past that is no longer real, thus ignore all new opportunities people / life can offer you in the present.
Or you can take the risk and embrace it.
What have we got to loose?
Game over. Play again?
Ah travelling is a magic thing … You suddenly realise that life is full of experiences with a beginning and an end , that you have to make the most of it and love people for who they are. What have you got to lose? It’s like a game. You know the kind of video games where you have unlimited amount of lives. Yeah that one. So you just go for it.
That's how you end up having a beer in an Irish pub in Bangkok with a Russian chick reading a copy of The Sun printed in Spain out loud ( including page 3) . Yep I did attempt to hide my '' made in France'' Tattoo there, thinking there might be an actual Irish or 2 around drunk enough to call me names like Thierry Henry. But no. Only us and some Brits.And the Thai waitresses trying to put on the fakest Irish accent I've ever heard.
Ah travelling is a magic thing. Whatever you want to do? You just go for it. What have you got to lose? And suddenly, even the question ‘’ How can I get enough money to be able to eat properly?’’ becomes fun. Because it’s like a game.
You'd sell the ipad you bought a month ago when you first got to Thailand and thought you were an Aussie millionaire wouldn’t you? Yeah, that's what I thought too.
So I put up ads in the building where I live and I get a phone call 10 minutes later.
'' Annabelle? you put add for ipad downstairs''
'' Yesssss I've got it here, it's brand new'' I say, smiling at Sue my Russian friend. We had plans on what we could do with the money already. Like have a dinner that did not include rice, have a coffee that does not include instant ( aka fly to Australia) and go to Chiang Mai or something.
'' You can't put ads in this building. We removed it.' the voice said.
LOOOSER . Game over. Play again?
Alright . So me, my Russian and my ipad we went to the market. I'd sell it there since I bought it there. That and my cleavage ( sorry French accent not working here, they don't speak English. Only have one other weapon) would give us enough money for all the coffees and rice free meals.
'' Sorry . Made in China''
'' Yep. So is everything here. How much ?''
'' No we don't buy. Rubbish.''
Yep. They sell it but there is NO way they'd buy it. Don't be silly. It's for freaking tourists. HAHA.
As if it was not bad enough, a guy with a perfect English showed up laughing and said :
'' Don't know where you bought it but you got ripped off''
LOOOOOOSER . Game over. Play again ?
Yes I will rip somebody more stupid than me off one day. You don't know anyone who needs a fake ipad , do you?
And no, the cleavage did not help. But the tattoo made them laugh. It does make people laugh. Usually. Yeah , that ‘s what to do when you’re travelling. Tattoo? ..How fun would it be to have one. So you get it done.Just like that. . Part of the game. And it looks cool my ‘’ Made in France ‘’ tattoo.
'' I've been following the conversation you're having with your friend and I don't think you need this tattoo with the thick accent you have'' says that random guy, in the tube at rush hour, in French.
What are YOU ? Made in Fucking Paris?
No I did not say it. Way too arrogant. I just thought it. Otherwise that would have made ME from fucking Paris.
Another French guy said to his girlfriend in English looking at me '' I should have one of them too''
I don't know exactly what he meant since she violently kicked him after that.
They obviously thought that I did not speak a word of English since I was made in France. Oui Oui.
'' You seriously are going to ENGLAND with this Tattoo?'' said another random French guy I met tonight at the airport. '' Now THAT is brave''
LOOOOOSER. Game over…. Play again?
Ah travelling is a magic thing. You care for everyone and anyone. Because we’re all brothers, mate.
That's how you end up in Starbucks sipping an ice green tea jelly made in Thailand to access the free wifi ( sorry Ronald YOUR free wi fi stinks too much for a poor vegetarian like me ) to check your Facebook for the 23rd time because you don't know where the hell the friend you were supposed to meet 3 days ago has disappeared.
A phone? Yes I'd have an iphone made in China if only I could sell my bloody ipad. Thank you.
A friend from Brighton. South Africa actually. But in the end, we're all from Brighton aren't we? I will call him Dwight here.
So I go and meet him at the airport. And guess who waits for 2 hours at the wrong exit holding a sign that read '' Lady boy from Brighton'' besides an actual lady boy? ME. And guess who never found him?
LOOOOOOOSER. ( with nothing to lose)
2 days later I get seriously worried. So I go and check if he actually arrived in Thailand and decides to go to his hostel. I went through the check in book with the lady boy from reception. And I was relieved to find his name.
'' Only stayed one night. Gone now'' So he was still alive somewhere in this world. Great !!!!
So Why was this woman/man (they?) staring at me with a compassionate look that meant '' BASTARD , he left without you didn't he.'' No no he's just a friend, we live together in a hostel in....
It was too late. I was the crazy ex girlfriend / stalker for everyone there. Smile. And leave. NOW.
LOOOOOS….. Yeah I’ve got it thanks.
Ah travelling. You just take any opportunity to have fun. What have you got to lose?
Flying is the best part. On what other occasion can you feel good about doing freaking nothing except eating / sleeping / watching crap movies for 16 hours? And pop in to India on your way back to England from Thailand? The best part was chatting about the weather in the UK with an English man drinking a Tiger beer while watching the cheesiest Bollywood movie ever. Or when the pilot told the passengers to sit down due to turbulences about 45 times and the Indians still could not care less.
What ? How was India? Mate. Amazing. I stayed for 3 whole hours. At the airport. Did not get to change my location on Facebook (LOOSER) but can say to people that I’ve been to India now.
Oh and do you know when you are a REAL passionate writer btw? It's when you ask Air India staff if you can have 5 more minutes to finish your blog article before boarding the plane. Of course you can't . Was just asking though.....
Travelling? You just go for it. You’ve got nothing to lose.
And the next thing you know you’re at Heathrow airport drinking a coffee in 13 english degrees ( ie -25 Thai degrees or 2 Aussie ones) , you’re back. Suddenly you feel like you have EVERYTHING to lose again………
H.O.M.E
full of people / places / jobs you LOVE and you don't want to lose....
The game? What game ? . Only one life left. MINE .
Love people for who they are? Make the most out of each experience and let it go? Don’t be silly. Who are you kidding. It’s the real stuff mate. I can’t fuck it up mate, I just can’t.
Me scared? Oh no , Not that AGAIN……
When did it become so damn serious anyway ?
What? Since Me/ myself/ I made it?
So what, you ‘re telling me it’s my choice what I want to make it ? That the journey is not over yet???
LIFE is a journey mate. And you only stop travelling through it when you stop being YOU.
It’s just the end of the beginning of a new experience. With loads of fun. With loads of people to love for who they are. Nothing to lose, everything to gain. If only you could dare to….
So… Play again?
HELL. YEAH.
That's how you end up having a beer in an Irish pub in Bangkok with a Russian chick reading a copy of The Sun printed in Spain out loud ( including page 3) . Yep I did attempt to hide my '' made in France'' Tattoo there, thinking there might be an actual Irish or 2 around drunk enough to call me names like Thierry Henry. But no. Only us and some Brits.And the Thai waitresses trying to put on the fakest Irish accent I've ever heard.
Ah travelling is a magic thing. Whatever you want to do? You just go for it. What have you got to lose? And suddenly, even the question ‘’ How can I get enough money to be able to eat properly?’’ becomes fun. Because it’s like a game.
You'd sell the ipad you bought a month ago when you first got to Thailand and thought you were an Aussie millionaire wouldn’t you? Yeah, that's what I thought too.
So I put up ads in the building where I live and I get a phone call 10 minutes later.
'' Annabelle? you put add for ipad downstairs''
'' Yesssss I've got it here, it's brand new'' I say, smiling at Sue my Russian friend. We had plans on what we could do with the money already. Like have a dinner that did not include rice, have a coffee that does not include instant ( aka fly to Australia) and go to Chiang Mai or something.
'' You can't put ads in this building. We removed it.' the voice said.
LOOOSER . Game over. Play again?
Alright . So me, my Russian and my ipad we went to the market. I'd sell it there since I bought it there. That and my cleavage ( sorry French accent not working here, they don't speak English. Only have one other weapon) would give us enough money for all the coffees and rice free meals.
'' Sorry . Made in China''
'' Yep. So is everything here. How much ?''
'' No we don't buy. Rubbish.''
Yep. They sell it but there is NO way they'd buy it. Don't be silly. It's for freaking tourists. HAHA.
As if it was not bad enough, a guy with a perfect English showed up laughing and said :
'' Don't know where you bought it but you got ripped off''
LOOOOOOSER . Game over. Play again ?
Yes I will rip somebody more stupid than me off one day. You don't know anyone who needs a fake ipad , do you?
And no, the cleavage did not help. But the tattoo made them laugh. It does make people laugh. Usually. Yeah , that ‘s what to do when you’re travelling. Tattoo? ..How fun would it be to have one. So you get it done.Just like that. . Part of the game. And it looks cool my ‘’ Made in France ‘’ tattoo.
'' I've been following the conversation you're having with your friend and I don't think you need this tattoo with the thick accent you have'' says that random guy, in the tube at rush hour, in French.
What are YOU ? Made in Fucking Paris?
No I did not say it. Way too arrogant. I just thought it. Otherwise that would have made ME from fucking Paris.
Another French guy said to his girlfriend in English looking at me '' I should have one of them too''
I don't know exactly what he meant since she violently kicked him after that.
They obviously thought that I did not speak a word of English since I was made in France. Oui Oui.
'' You seriously are going to ENGLAND with this Tattoo?'' said another random French guy I met tonight at the airport. '' Now THAT is brave''
LOOOOOSER. Game over…. Play again?
Ah travelling is a magic thing. You care for everyone and anyone. Because we’re all brothers, mate.
That's how you end up in Starbucks sipping an ice green tea jelly made in Thailand to access the free wifi ( sorry Ronald YOUR free wi fi stinks too much for a poor vegetarian like me ) to check your Facebook for the 23rd time because you don't know where the hell the friend you were supposed to meet 3 days ago has disappeared.
A phone? Yes I'd have an iphone made in China if only I could sell my bloody ipad. Thank you.
A friend from Brighton. South Africa actually. But in the end, we're all from Brighton aren't we? I will call him Dwight here.
So I go and meet him at the airport. And guess who waits for 2 hours at the wrong exit holding a sign that read '' Lady boy from Brighton'' besides an actual lady boy? ME. And guess who never found him?
LOOOOOOOSER. ( with nothing to lose)
2 days later I get seriously worried. So I go and check if he actually arrived in Thailand and decides to go to his hostel. I went through the check in book with the lady boy from reception. And I was relieved to find his name.
'' Only stayed one night. Gone now'' So he was still alive somewhere in this world. Great !!!!
So Why was this woman/man (they?) staring at me with a compassionate look that meant '' BASTARD , he left without you didn't he.'' No no he's just a friend, we live together in a hostel in....
It was too late. I was the crazy ex girlfriend / stalker for everyone there. Smile. And leave. NOW.
LOOOOOS….. Yeah I’ve got it thanks.
Ah travelling. You just take any opportunity to have fun. What have you got to lose?
Flying is the best part. On what other occasion can you feel good about doing freaking nothing except eating / sleeping / watching crap movies for 16 hours? And pop in to India on your way back to England from Thailand? The best part was chatting about the weather in the UK with an English man drinking a Tiger beer while watching the cheesiest Bollywood movie ever. Or when the pilot told the passengers to sit down due to turbulences about 45 times and the Indians still could not care less.
What ? How was India? Mate. Amazing. I stayed for 3 whole hours. At the airport. Did not get to change my location on Facebook (LOOSER) but can say to people that I’ve been to India now.
Oh and do you know when you are a REAL passionate writer btw? It's when you ask Air India staff if you can have 5 more minutes to finish your blog article before boarding the plane. Of course you can't . Was just asking though.....
Travelling? You just go for it. You’ve got nothing to lose.
And the next thing you know you’re at Heathrow airport drinking a coffee in 13 english degrees ( ie -25 Thai degrees or 2 Aussie ones) , you’re back. Suddenly you feel like you have EVERYTHING to lose again………
H.O.M.E
full of people / places / jobs you LOVE and you don't want to lose....
The game? What game ? . Only one life left. MINE .
Love people for who they are? Make the most out of each experience and let it go? Don’t be silly. Who are you kidding. It’s the real stuff mate. I can’t fuck it up mate, I just can’t.
Me scared? Oh no , Not that AGAIN……
When did it become so damn serious anyway ?
What? Since Me/ myself/ I made it?
So what, you ‘re telling me it’s my choice what I want to make it ? That the journey is not over yet???
LIFE is a journey mate. And you only stop travelling through it when you stop being YOU.
It’s just the end of the beginning of a new experience. With loads of fun. With loads of people to love for who they are. Nothing to lose, everything to gain. If only you could dare to….
So… Play again?
HELL. YEAH.
Monday, 22 August 2011
Material girl
So I get a tattoo with my last Australian dollars , book a flight to London via India with the Pounds I don't have yet, get lost in a capital city looking for a friend I' ve known for 12 days ( 10 of them were silent) and get drunk in trendy club trying to learn Brazilian from a random guy drinking Heineken.
And that's exactly when my local french newspapers decides to publish an article celebrating...MY life choices.
Will I ever stop laughing....
How did I end up speaking Bazilian in a club in Bangkok ? Oh yeah. That one.
I woke up in the monastery on my cement bad for the 22nd day in a row and that's when it came. Enlightenment.
WTF am I doing here. No I am NOT the spiritual creature I thought I was. I can't sit still for more than 8 minutes unless it involves writing or downloading pictures on Facebook. I know now that food is only fuel for the body but if I have rice and spicy veggies for breakfast one more time I go on strike.
I had to apologize to Buddha and to myself. Time to GET REAL.
2 choices. Live IN or OUT of society. Stay and start a nun degree . Or go back out there and start accepting
1/ Capitalism
2/ globalization
3/ wordly possessions
4/ people with money
5/ Money.
aka live in the 21st Century.
Now that's a mission.
I decide to take the night train to Bangkok to tell my 60 year old POM about the new material girl me.
I take the last seat. 366 Baht. ( a couple of pounds/ Euro/AUS dollars) A delight for your wallet. A bad omen for your comfort.
I can officially call myself a hardcore traveler after a 10h overnight trip sitting by a bag full or Durians ( they 're so smelly that they are even banned from Bangkok tube: '' No drink , no camera no Durians'' talking to coakcroches . The only ones who could understand english before the first Westerners got in half way through.
It's easy to get in or out, the exit doors stay open for the whole. trip. Enough to make any British health and safety inspector want to jump out and try to commit suicide . He could not really , the train is too slow ...
Hey , hoooooow uuuuu doin' ?
fuck. The only italian guy in the whole train had to be for me.
I 've been working on the '' I haven't had a proper shower or sleep for 3 weeks. How do you think I'm doing'' look so it
worked. And a french dude just called me '' Madame'' . Like i'm 30+ or something. What? I am? Shut up.
5.30am arrival in Bangkok. That Thai lady gives me a big hug that probably meant '' we got here safe , what a miracle'' .
Shower or breakfast. What would a material girl with a tight budget choose? Facebook that is!!
Of course Roy wants to meet me in Khao San road area ( aka tourist central ). Of course I ended up waiting for him all day standing next to Ronald Freaking Mac Donald after I sent him an '' Come and get me or I will die here'' email, watching drunken Aussie tourists walk past.
Of course we never met that day. I was on a different mission. I had to make my peace with Society. Accept the world as it is. At last....
So I had a chat with Ronald listening to Lady Gaga for a bit. Then I bargained my diner.
I walked passed a guy who was playing '' Imagine'' from Elton John. I stood there watching the crowd of tourists . ''Imagine there's no country...'' I almost cried mate. ( I did actually) .
And peace was made.
'' I'm not a nun so I decided to be a material girl'' I say to Roy when I finally meet up with him the next day.
'' Don't you have to be a virgin for that?'' He replied
'' Seriously I'm too up with the fairies. I was down to my last 40 dollars and did not even realize. Scared the shit out of me. I must be more materialistic''
You? Dream on.....
Try me. I drag him to the nearest tattoo parlor.
I've always wanted this tattoo but always thought it was useless. Now or never.
God did it hurt. The part when I ask the tattoo guy how many tattoos does HE have and he replied '' Me
? I don't have any, don't be silly'' was the most painful.
Where did I have it done. Mate come and see for yourself!
What does it say?
MADE IN FRANCE. It had to :)
Although Roy ad the tattoo guy had me on for 10 minutes telling me that they changed it to MADE IN ENGLAND and how much better it looked before they finally gave me a mirror.
How's that for the new material girl.
The same night I meet my Russian friend for her birthday. '' Are we going clubbing?'' I was going to say that I'm not into that you know that thing. But I made a promise to Buddha and Ronald . Material girl.
She looks at my clothes with a '' darling you can't decently wear that'' sort of look. She throws a sexy dress, a diamond bracelet and a Louis Vuitton bag. Now it's better.
People always tell me I'm brave to travel the world by myself. and that night for the first time, I felt that I really was.
Going clubbing with the hottest Russian girl who's celebrating her 25th birthday when you can't remember when was the last time you went to bed after midnight was, IS brave.
'' Hi I'm Kevin from USA'' that random drunk guy tells me in a thick Thai accent.
'' Greeeeeeat'' . I show him my tattoo. Because that's what you do in a club right? And run out of conversation.
''He liked you!'' My friend tells me.
So ..... you're saying that based on..... '' my name is Kevin I'm from the USA'' . Of course.
And he was fucking Thai anyway. How can that be the base of a good and honest one night stand ( is that how you call it?) What? Who cares about honest?
Where have I been the past 10 years. Give me one more beer.
'' You beer?'' says that Brazilian dude next to me. Wow. Drunk guys in clubs can read minds now. I'm impressed.
So I learnt Brazilian for a bit. and made everyone laugh on the dance floor. No I am REALLY trying to dance here.
'' your number?'' he tells me at 3 am. My friend was like ''go for it'' .
'' I do not own a phone'' was my answer. And I absolutely loved saying it.
Sorry Buddha, if I'm not completely a spiritual girl. And sorry Ronald I 'm not completely a material girl .
I think I will just have to be me then ......
And that's exactly when my local french newspapers decides to publish an article celebrating...MY life choices.
Will I ever stop laughing....
How did I end up speaking Bazilian in a club in Bangkok ? Oh yeah. That one.
I woke up in the monastery on my cement bad for the 22nd day in a row and that's when it came. Enlightenment.
WTF am I doing here. No I am NOT the spiritual creature I thought I was. I can't sit still for more than 8 minutes unless it involves writing or downloading pictures on Facebook. I know now that food is only fuel for the body but if I have rice and spicy veggies for breakfast one more time I go on strike.
I had to apologize to Buddha and to myself. Time to GET REAL.
2 choices. Live IN or OUT of society. Stay and start a nun degree . Or go back out there and start accepting
1/ Capitalism
2/ globalization
3/ wordly possessions
4/ people with money
5/ Money.
aka live in the 21st Century.
Now that's a mission.
I decide to take the night train to Bangkok to tell my 60 year old POM about the new material girl me.
I take the last seat. 366 Baht. ( a couple of pounds/ Euro/AUS dollars) A delight for your wallet. A bad omen for your comfort.
I can officially call myself a hardcore traveler after a 10h overnight trip sitting by a bag full or Durians ( they 're so smelly that they are even banned from Bangkok tube: '' No drink , no camera no Durians'' talking to coakcroches . The only ones who could understand english before the first Westerners got in half way through.
It's easy to get in or out, the exit doors stay open for the whole. trip. Enough to make any British health and safety inspector want to jump out and try to commit suicide . He could not really , the train is too slow ...
Hey , hoooooow uuuuu doin' ?
fuck. The only italian guy in the whole train had to be for me.
I 've been working on the '' I haven't had a proper shower or sleep for 3 weeks. How do you think I'm doing'' look so it
worked. And a french dude just called me '' Madame'' . Like i'm 30+ or something. What? I am? Shut up.
5.30am arrival in Bangkok. That Thai lady gives me a big hug that probably meant '' we got here safe , what a miracle'' .
Shower or breakfast. What would a material girl with a tight budget choose? Facebook that is!!
Of course Roy wants to meet me in Khao San road area ( aka tourist central ). Of course I ended up waiting for him all day standing next to Ronald Freaking Mac Donald after I sent him an '' Come and get me or I will die here'' email, watching drunken Aussie tourists walk past.
Of course we never met that day. I was on a different mission. I had to make my peace with Society. Accept the world as it is. At last....
So I had a chat with Ronald listening to Lady Gaga for a bit. Then I bargained my diner.
I walked passed a guy who was playing '' Imagine'' from Elton John. I stood there watching the crowd of tourists . ''Imagine there's no country...'' I almost cried mate. ( I did actually) .
And peace was made.
'' I'm not a nun so I decided to be a material girl'' I say to Roy when I finally meet up with him the next day.
'' Don't you have to be a virgin for that?'' He replied
'' Seriously I'm too up with the fairies. I was down to my last 40 dollars and did not even realize. Scared the shit out of me. I must be more materialistic''
You? Dream on.....
Try me. I drag him to the nearest tattoo parlor.
I've always wanted this tattoo but always thought it was useless. Now or never.
God did it hurt. The part when I ask the tattoo guy how many tattoos does HE have and he replied '' Me
? I don't have any, don't be silly'' was the most painful.
Where did I have it done. Mate come and see for yourself!
What does it say?
MADE IN FRANCE. It had to :)
Although Roy ad the tattoo guy had me on for 10 minutes telling me that they changed it to MADE IN ENGLAND and how much better it looked before they finally gave me a mirror.
How's that for the new material girl.
The same night I meet my Russian friend for her birthday. '' Are we going clubbing?'' I was going to say that I'm not into that you know that thing. But I made a promise to Buddha and Ronald . Material girl.
She looks at my clothes with a '' darling you can't decently wear that'' sort of look. She throws a sexy dress, a diamond bracelet and a Louis Vuitton bag. Now it's better.
People always tell me I'm brave to travel the world by myself. and that night for the first time, I felt that I really was.
Going clubbing with the hottest Russian girl who's celebrating her 25th birthday when you can't remember when was the last time you went to bed after midnight was, IS brave.
'' Hi I'm Kevin from USA'' that random drunk guy tells me in a thick Thai accent.
'' Greeeeeeat'' . I show him my tattoo. Because that's what you do in a club right? And run out of conversation.
''He liked you!'' My friend tells me.
So ..... you're saying that based on..... '' my name is Kevin I'm from the USA'' . Of course.
And he was fucking Thai anyway. How can that be the base of a good and honest one night stand ( is that how you call it?) What? Who cares about honest?
Where have I been the past 10 years. Give me one more beer.
'' You beer?'' says that Brazilian dude next to me. Wow. Drunk guys in clubs can read minds now. I'm impressed.
So I learnt Brazilian for a bit. and made everyone laugh on the dance floor. No I am REALLY trying to dance here.
'' your number?'' he tells me at 3 am. My friend was like ''go for it'' .
'' I do not own a phone'' was my answer. And I absolutely loved saying it.
Sorry Buddha, if I'm not completely a spiritual girl. And sorry Ronald I 'm not completely a material girl .
I think I will just have to be me then ......
Friday, 19 August 2011
Just saving the world, Mate ....
Ah sleeping in a hotel room after 18 days of concrete mattress and scorpion hunts. It's the idea of heaven. Except when you break your back jumping on the bed because the actual mattress is as hard as a rock and the only TV channel available in English is fox news.
Imagine my face after almost 3 weeks of non information.
Meditate sister, meditate. Or eat an insane amount of coconut coated peanuts. Like I did. Because I can eat whatever I want ( school girl out of school attitude )
Mmmm showers..... me can't use showers. Of well, I used the bucket like good old times. God, it's time I get a life..... right ?
The next morning I ask reception for the bus station in English with a Thai accent. I feel less arrogant when I use the Thai accent.
'' I drive you'' said a random old guy who was there. Pouring down with rain so I said yes. A car would be very handy.
Of course it was not a car. He throws a helmet and a rain coat at me. '' you wait here''
A freaking scooter. What scares me more than not knowing where 'i'm going ? going there on a scooter.
I saw my life before my eyes during the 10 minutes crazy drive through town. I saw England , France , Australia and said I love you to everyone. Did you hear it ?
''50 baht please'' and I got ripped off. Nice.
I had the spiciest noddle in my whole life at 7am and got on a random bus doubting it would get me to my destination for 3hours59 minutes. It did.
Back to Buddha central , I had this strange feeling that I would not live here for ever.I still wanted to see myself saving the world with English monks forever. Drinking coffee. It seemed at the time to be the best idea ever.
'' I'm in Bangkok, when are you coming'' Roy my favorite pom abroad with no deadlock ( he told me to correct that. It probably is just dirty hair . haha. )
Emails me 2 days after leaving the retreat unexpectedly on day 10 ( I am still soooo mad at you. )
'' I live in the monastery now, shaving my head soon''
I won't tell you what he replied. There might be kids or nuns reading. British humour. God do I miss it haha.
I'm staying on my concrete mattress. Stuborn ? Me ? No, it just takes me a while longer to get it. That's all. Remember I'm french.
Just when I thought that saving the world from a Thai monastery was actually a job I decided to check my balance.
No. Not a job. My Facebook status says writer but no, not a job either. Not yet anyway. Yes, I know, one day I'll be j.k Rowling. Now I'm just Rowling.
So I had 2 choices. Shave my head and eat rice until the end of times. Or get out there and find a job for a while so I can go and save the world again later ( is that how it works nowadays?)
Let me think. All the jobs I love are volunteer jobs. Teaching English to Thai kids, work in a bed in breakfast in mount Burrell Australia, write blogs and articles for websites ......
If I go back to reality it might as well be worth it. What ? Volunteer jobs are not jobs ? Damn.
So there's only one job I love then. There's only one I ever loved.
There's that email in my inbox that's been sitting there for quite a while.... I should reply to this job offer... There are people I love there and around there ...... a lot of them.....
So I simply replied to the email.
Departure Bangkok airport 29th august 4.30pm. Arrival London Heathrow 30th August 7.30am .
Then ? It just hits you. That there is nothing to save or nothing to hide from. Because loving YOUR world is sometimes enough to change it.
Because the world where I come from is worth loving too ...
My name is Annabelle I'm french ( still) , I live in brighton, UK.
Imagine my face after almost 3 weeks of non information.
Meditate sister, meditate. Or eat an insane amount of coconut coated peanuts. Like I did. Because I can eat whatever I want ( school girl out of school attitude )
Mmmm showers..... me can't use showers. Of well, I used the bucket like good old times. God, it's time I get a life..... right ?
The next morning I ask reception for the bus station in English with a Thai accent. I feel less arrogant when I use the Thai accent.
'' I drive you'' said a random old guy who was there. Pouring down with rain so I said yes. A car would be very handy.
Of course it was not a car. He throws a helmet and a rain coat at me. '' you wait here''
A freaking scooter. What scares me more than not knowing where 'i'm going ? going there on a scooter.
I saw my life before my eyes during the 10 minutes crazy drive through town. I saw England , France , Australia and said I love you to everyone. Did you hear it ?
''50 baht please'' and I got ripped off. Nice.
I had the spiciest noddle in my whole life at 7am and got on a random bus doubting it would get me to my destination for 3hours59 minutes. It did.
Back to Buddha central , I had this strange feeling that I would not live here for ever.I still wanted to see myself saving the world with English monks forever. Drinking coffee. It seemed at the time to be the best idea ever.
'' I'm in Bangkok, when are you coming'' Roy my favorite pom abroad with no deadlock ( he told me to correct that. It probably is just dirty hair . haha. )
Emails me 2 days after leaving the retreat unexpectedly on day 10 ( I am still soooo mad at you. )
'' I live in the monastery now, shaving my head soon''
I won't tell you what he replied. There might be kids or nuns reading. British humour. God do I miss it haha.
I'm staying on my concrete mattress. Stuborn ? Me ? No, it just takes me a while longer to get it. That's all. Remember I'm french.
Just when I thought that saving the world from a Thai monastery was actually a job I decided to check my balance.
No. Not a job. My Facebook status says writer but no, not a job either. Not yet anyway. Yes, I know, one day I'll be j.k Rowling. Now I'm just Rowling.
So I had 2 choices. Shave my head and eat rice until the end of times. Or get out there and find a job for a while so I can go and save the world again later ( is that how it works nowadays?)
Let me think. All the jobs I love are volunteer jobs. Teaching English to Thai kids, work in a bed in breakfast in mount Burrell Australia, write blogs and articles for websites ......
If I go back to reality it might as well be worth it. What ? Volunteer jobs are not jobs ? Damn.
So there's only one job I love then. There's only one I ever loved.
There's that email in my inbox that's been sitting there for quite a while.... I should reply to this job offer... There are people I love there and around there ...... a lot of them.....
So I simply replied to the email.
Departure Bangkok airport 29th august 4.30pm. Arrival London Heathrow 30th August 7.30am .
Then ? It just hits you. That there is nothing to save or nothing to hide from. Because loving YOUR world is sometimes enough to change it.
Because the world where I come from is worth loving too ...
My name is Annabelle I'm french ( still) , I live in brighton, UK.
Monday, 15 August 2011
Run for your Visa
Ever felt like Julia Roberts or Tom Cruise walking down the street ? I just have. That's why I thought I'd stop in a cyber cafe that still has a Xmas tree in the window to tell you. I am in a place called ... sorry just checking the name on my note pad... Yes it's called Ranong. In South West Thailand. You know , a genuine beautiful- Julia Robert look , not a I want- your- money- Julia Robert. Proud. Then I go back to my hotel room and double check. No , definitely not Julia. An exhausted sweaty pale skinned french woman who is still missing a piece of her front tooth. Damn. What were they thinking.
What am I doing in a hotel in South West Thailand when yesterday I was living in a monastery in South EAST Thailand. The beauty of traveling mate.
Wanna know the story? Okay then.
Life was sweet at the monastery. It was like a backpackers hostel with meditation Halls and Monks. No booze , just drink for thoughts aka holly water.
Me and some guys from the retreat stayed behind to really enjoy Holly Life before going back to ''Helly'' Life.
That 's how we ended up having long spiritual conversations over ( long missed) coffees at the little cafe in front.
That's how I met an awesome Dutch guy who has been cycling from his country . 7500 km so far. And an Aussie dude who lives in the Philippines and whose passion in life is to teach little Filipinos to skate board. And many others. We had great days talking about Life climbing mountains. We all wanted it to last forever. The Dutch guy left first. He wanted to cycle to Bangkok. 600km. As we were waving him good bye I said to the Aussie guy:
'' He 's awesome isn't he? By the way, what his name? The Aussie guy answered like in a trance '' I don't know Mate, I don't know''
Then he left too. Damn I forgot to ask his name.....
My friend Jenny from England gave me a wake up call from Hell.
'' Isn't your visa running out in 2 days?''
Damn. " That's fine I 'll just pop in and see Ken ( the retreat's coordinator) and he will tell me what to do for this visa run to Burma.
NB : Visa Run : Common name, singular . in every westerner who lives in Asia's mind. It usually happens every month or every 3 months if you're lucky or rich. It includes a ''Oh shit- no- that- again- feeling'' and a day return to the nearest neighboring country so get a stamp out and a stamp back in.
'' Ken left Koh Samui'' I was told when I tried to get hold of him. No other Westerner around..... Shit what do I do ?
I remember now. There was a poster that explained it all at the end of the retreat. I was too busy listening to this guy's hilarious dreams during the silent retreat that I only took a picture of it.
Shit can't read anything. 3 hours later I managed to decipher 3 key words . '' Ranong'' ''10 american dollars'' '' pier''
The next day ( today) , me and my small backpack were waiting for the bus 8am.9am. '' Only God knows when bus comes'' in this country so better not ask. 9.45am THE bus! No Ranong No. Then took off. That's when I saw a hot lost English guy with the cuttest accent getting off.
Thank God you heard my prayers.Who needs a new visa when you can.... Oh well this Living in a monastery is getting to my head.
How uuuuuu doin'?
Very interesting story he had. Well until the '' My wife is Thai'' bit.
When is that damn bus coming. In 14 hours i'm an illegal immigrant hiding with nuns and monks. So much for Buddhist philosophy.
10.05 THE bus.
4 hours later I had my passport checked for the first time by a Military guy who got on the bus to check.I turn my head and look around : I'm the only westerner on this local bus. If one gets kicked out....
Why am I so paranoid? You would if your ex got banned from the UK and sent back to Kiwi land in 48h as he was coming back from a short trip in France. You would if the immigration officer had called you that day and asked you every possible question about your relationship. When/ where / how we met ( guys, that's THE good reason to remember dates like the first kiss or engagement day. Just if one day your partner gets detained by the British customs and you're the only one who can help. I failed at question 16 '' If he gets 3 more months in the UK Are you sure you will follow him in New Zealand after that?'' I said '' I might'' . Wrong answer. Well I never did, follow, in the end.
Another case : '' Where is Apple Struddle ?'' an Austrian friend I met in Australia.
''Oh you haven't heard? He tried to get back yesterday but Australia deported him. To New Zealand.
Oh shit. Wait , it gets worse.
And New Zealand deported him to Germany. All his stuff is still in Oz. Including a Motorbike
Another one bites the dust.
Anyway the Old Thai sitting next to me mumbles something that must have meant '' Don't worry mate'' so I did not.
Passed the first test.
Arriving in Ranong I started seeing men moving their wrist in a very strange way when looking at me. I heard before that it was not obscene it just mean '' visa stamp'' .
I say yes , getting off the bus but then he was gone and so was the bus. Lovely. Then I saw this most hated sign that I promised to only use in case of an emergency. '' Tourist office'' . Today WAS an emergency.
I shook my hand saying visa in an awful Thai accent and he replied '' please take the bus 6 to the Pier'' in a perfect English. Of course.
'' You 10 Americain dollars?'' a young kid ask me on arrival
Why would I have that with me HERE??????
How much? he asks.
So I get the choose the value of a tenner. I like this game. 300. No. 500. no 400. I got the last word. I BARGAINED a 10 dollar note yay. I have no idea why.
I get my stamp out and bargain a barge trip to Burma. Which must be the only country in the world that has 2 bloody names. To add to my confusion. Myanmar Whatever.
45 minutes later, me my passport and my 10 dollar note arrive in Burma slash Myanmar.
'' You have 10 minutes'' the immigration guy tells me as he was stamping me in the country and taking my tenner ( will forever wonder why 10 American dollars..... )
What do you do in 10 minutes in Burma? You go to the most disgusting toilet in the world and you fall in love with a 10 year old kid who tells you '' francais? Bonjour. You beautiful . Nice to meet you '' I took a picture of him. Could not resist. And no , he did not ask for money.
Back on the barge I start chatting in broken Thai English to this couple. He is Thai. she's from Laos and because she wants to stay and live with him she does the visa run every month. And he goes with her. She shows me her passport with a million Burma stamps on it. How sweet.
That's probably why the Thai customs stamped her back in until 12th September and stamped ME back until the 29th Aug . Logic? None. the 10 American dollar syndrome.
'' You hotel?'' the couple asks me.
'' no plan''
'' You telephone?''
''no''
The guy seemed more shocked that I did not have a mobile than that I come from half way round the country by myself and does not have a hotel booked. That is like the 10 dollar thing , I will never know why.
So they drive me to town , find a hotel for me. give me their number and left. I've got no idea where I am and don't know how I'll get back to the monastery tomorrow.
And that 's what I was thinking walking down the street in Ranong. That people are good . If you're open that is. That's probably why I looked so beautiful.......
What am I doing in a hotel in South West Thailand when yesterday I was living in a monastery in South EAST Thailand. The beauty of traveling mate.
Wanna know the story? Okay then.
Life was sweet at the monastery. It was like a backpackers hostel with meditation Halls and Monks. No booze , just drink for thoughts aka holly water.
Me and some guys from the retreat stayed behind to really enjoy Holly Life before going back to ''Helly'' Life.
That 's how we ended up having long spiritual conversations over ( long missed) coffees at the little cafe in front.
That's how I met an awesome Dutch guy who has been cycling from his country . 7500 km so far. And an Aussie dude who lives in the Philippines and whose passion in life is to teach little Filipinos to skate board. And many others. We had great days talking about Life climbing mountains. We all wanted it to last forever. The Dutch guy left first. He wanted to cycle to Bangkok. 600km. As we were waving him good bye I said to the Aussie guy:
'' He 's awesome isn't he? By the way, what his name? The Aussie guy answered like in a trance '' I don't know Mate, I don't know''
Then he left too. Damn I forgot to ask his name.....
My friend Jenny from England gave me a wake up call from Hell.
'' Isn't your visa running out in 2 days?''
Damn. " That's fine I 'll just pop in and see Ken ( the retreat's coordinator) and he will tell me what to do for this visa run to Burma.
NB : Visa Run : Common name, singular . in every westerner who lives in Asia's mind. It usually happens every month or every 3 months if you're lucky or rich. It includes a ''Oh shit- no- that- again- feeling'' and a day return to the nearest neighboring country so get a stamp out and a stamp back in.
'' Ken left Koh Samui'' I was told when I tried to get hold of him. No other Westerner around..... Shit what do I do ?
I remember now. There was a poster that explained it all at the end of the retreat. I was too busy listening to this guy's hilarious dreams during the silent retreat that I only took a picture of it.
Shit can't read anything. 3 hours later I managed to decipher 3 key words . '' Ranong'' ''10 american dollars'' '' pier''
The next day ( today) , me and my small backpack were waiting for the bus 8am.9am. '' Only God knows when bus comes'' in this country so better not ask. 9.45am THE bus! No Ranong No. Then took off. That's when I saw a hot lost English guy with the cuttest accent getting off.
Thank God you heard my prayers.Who needs a new visa when you can.... Oh well this Living in a monastery is getting to my head.
How uuuuuu doin'?
Very interesting story he had. Well until the '' My wife is Thai'' bit.
When is that damn bus coming. In 14 hours i'm an illegal immigrant hiding with nuns and monks. So much for Buddhist philosophy.
10.05 THE bus.
4 hours later I had my passport checked for the first time by a Military guy who got on the bus to check.I turn my head and look around : I'm the only westerner on this local bus. If one gets kicked out....
Why am I so paranoid? You would if your ex got banned from the UK and sent back to Kiwi land in 48h as he was coming back from a short trip in France. You would if the immigration officer had called you that day and asked you every possible question about your relationship. When/ where / how we met ( guys, that's THE good reason to remember dates like the first kiss or engagement day. Just if one day your partner gets detained by the British customs and you're the only one who can help. I failed at question 16 '' If he gets 3 more months in the UK Are you sure you will follow him in New Zealand after that?'' I said '' I might'' . Wrong answer. Well I never did, follow, in the end.
Another case : '' Where is Apple Struddle ?'' an Austrian friend I met in Australia.
''Oh you haven't heard? He tried to get back yesterday but Australia deported him. To New Zealand.
Oh shit. Wait , it gets worse.
And New Zealand deported him to Germany. All his stuff is still in Oz. Including a Motorbike
Another one bites the dust.
Anyway the Old Thai sitting next to me mumbles something that must have meant '' Don't worry mate'' so I did not.
Passed the first test.
Arriving in Ranong I started seeing men moving their wrist in a very strange way when looking at me. I heard before that it was not obscene it just mean '' visa stamp'' .
I say yes , getting off the bus but then he was gone and so was the bus. Lovely. Then I saw this most hated sign that I promised to only use in case of an emergency. '' Tourist office'' . Today WAS an emergency.
I shook my hand saying visa in an awful Thai accent and he replied '' please take the bus 6 to the Pier'' in a perfect English. Of course.
'' You 10 Americain dollars?'' a young kid ask me on arrival
Why would I have that with me HERE??????
How much? he asks.
So I get the choose the value of a tenner. I like this game. 300. No. 500. no 400. I got the last word. I BARGAINED a 10 dollar note yay. I have no idea why.
I get my stamp out and bargain a barge trip to Burma. Which must be the only country in the world that has 2 bloody names. To add to my confusion. Myanmar Whatever.
45 minutes later, me my passport and my 10 dollar note arrive in Burma slash Myanmar.
'' You have 10 minutes'' the immigration guy tells me as he was stamping me in the country and taking my tenner ( will forever wonder why 10 American dollars..... )
What do you do in 10 minutes in Burma? You go to the most disgusting toilet in the world and you fall in love with a 10 year old kid who tells you '' francais? Bonjour. You beautiful . Nice to meet you '' I took a picture of him. Could not resist. And no , he did not ask for money.
Back on the barge I start chatting in broken Thai English to this couple. He is Thai. she's from Laos and because she wants to stay and live with him she does the visa run every month. And he goes with her. She shows me her passport with a million Burma stamps on it. How sweet.
That's probably why the Thai customs stamped her back in until 12th September and stamped ME back until the 29th Aug . Logic? None. the 10 American dollar syndrome.
'' You hotel?'' the couple asks me.
'' no plan''
'' You telephone?''
''no''
The guy seemed more shocked that I did not have a mobile than that I come from half way round the country by myself and does not have a hotel booked. That is like the 10 dollar thing , I will never know why.
So they drive me to town , find a hotel for me. give me their number and left. I've got no idea where I am and don't know how I'll get back to the monastery tomorrow.
And that 's what I was thinking walking down the street in Ranong. That people are good . If you're open that is. That's probably why I looked so beautiful.......
Friday, 12 August 2011
They wanna make me go to rehab....
Dear ex employers and ex boyfriends. Yes I can NOT talk for 10 days. You just had to lock me in a Buddhist monastery in Southern Thailand. It was as simple as that. Damn. Yes I suffered.
The silence? It was great...
Welcome to the 10 day meditation retreat In Suan Mokk International monastery. Please leave all temptation at reception. No music, no books , no writing , no mobile phones , no computer.
( My bag got a LOT lighter then)
You will find your mosquito net and your wooden pillow in the common room.
Wooden.. What?
'' it's the first 10 days that are the most difficult'' said Roy , my favourite 60 year old Brit with dread locks. He's done it before. He tried to warn me but I never believe the Brits. They're always having you on. Not this time.
We entered silence at 7pm that night. So we could just stare blankly at each other as we found out that our mattress was pure concrete. No it did not feel like concrete. It WAS concrete. We could always cry on the wooden pillow without leaving any marks though. That was the good thing.
'' Body no need happy at night. Body sleeps'' our favourite Thai monk told us. Yeah that makes sense. Bloody Bhuddist wisdom.
Silence was bliss for the first couple of days. When you've worked in Hospitality and devoted your life ( as only Kipps backpackers hostels staff would do )to guests from all around the world for the last 3 years, you can only take that as a treat when you are surrounded by them and can't talk.
'' You want to know what you can do in the area or where the freaking toilet is ? I wish I can tell you but... I CAN'T TALK!!!!!! HAHAHAH ( nasty revenge laugh)
It's not the silence that was hard for me. Or the cement bed. or the fact that we had wash with a bucket and water from the well. And wake up at 4am every morning. Or even the 2 meals a day.
It was about following rules in silence. ME. NOT. SURRENDER.
I hated that guy who was wearing a Tee shirt that read ''OBEY'' almost everyday ( He became a very good aussie friend in the days that followed the end of the retreat. Sorry mate)
Each time I heard the bell or had to listen to yet another person giving a speech for hours as we were sitting there on the ground pretending we could do the full lotus with every bit of our body aching . with no freedom of speech was a sort of purgatory for my french side.
So.. I took part in the french revolution in a past life and was now punished for it. Is that right?
Yes , that's the sort of thing you are thinking about when you can't talk. You think about crazy shit. I even heard the Marseillaise, my national anthem each time we had to obey to yet another thing. Wake up to the bell at 4am. Marseillaise. 1 hour sitting meditation. Marseillaise. 1 hour yoga. 1 hour Monk Speech ( called Dhamma talk) . Give me that damn breakfast or I will do the revolution. NO FREE TIME.
That's when I saw that french woman's tee that said '' I am not moaning I am expressing myself'' I knew I was not the only one.
'' Meditation is NOT a cheap way to get high'' said our beloved British coordinator that I will call Ken here on the first day.
There was a few '' have I been lied to ? '' kind of looks. A few drop outs followed too.
Did I tell you what meditation is all about? D.I.S.C.I.P.L.I.N.E. Following your breath and watch your thinking. Do not get invloved in it.
Concentrating on your breath is a good way to train your mind so it does what it's told. The big goal is to avoid attachement to anything or anyone as all situations are impermanent anyway. If you do get attached it will lead to '' Ducca '' (suffering). Achieve detachement and you'll be in ''Nibbana'' , a state of pure joy. So guys, discipline your minds and love your life and other.( see I was not sleeping the WHOLE time during Dhamma talks. Point for me: 10)
Then wisdom will come. Or sleep. Or something totally unexpected like you stand up and go and hug trees and talk to ants. They are so beautiful.... ( cries) . I remember one day when we all gathered in awe around a flower that just blossomed. I suspect even guys cried. I was talking to Spiders from day 5. Fear just goes away as you get back to Nature. Amazing really.
So basically MY mind went like that :
Day 1: Silence is gold mate. But it's too loud. I did not choose it. Biggest headache ever. I had to skip a class. Damn , I've got fever too. Oh, what's that? Tea against fever. Awesome. I'll have some. Yuk. What does it also say ? '' LAXAT..'' Craaaap. I soon understood why this place was called ''the garden of liberation''
Day 2: you can't expect a bunch of women to keep a vow of silence when there are spiders and deadly scorpions involved. Each time we hear a shout we all run with our best loving kindness to the room where the crime took place and try hard to remember that we signed a paper that said '' Please do not kill any living being.'' And no, it was no just each other.
Day 3 : How can you NOT kill a mosquito for biting you constantly just as you were starting to meditate for 8 minutes in a row during a 3 hour group session. Everyone seems to be so concentrated. Or asleep. The Thai girl behind me has not moved for 2days.
Day 4 : Anyone gave food to the Thai girl? How can anyone sits there for hours just because they are told to. How is that wise. Bunch of ignorant people. I know better. I will NOT do what I'm told. I will find MY OWN WAY.
Day 5 : I can't sit still for more than 2.5 minutes now. It was either I heard something hilarious or I jump into the pond with a heavy stone attached to my 2 feet. Or I could still jump in with the Thai girl who still has not moved. That's when my prayer was answered . British humor saved my life. Once again. The funniest man on this planet is a British dude from Bristol who decided to become a Bhuddist monk in Thailand.
ANd we were lucky enough to listen to him everyday. The king of guy who just shows up for a 1 hour long speech with no notes and makes it all up.
'' Where do you go after death? Don't know... Australia probably. For sure I don't want go to hell, I've lived in the UK for too long'' Then I started thinking about my ideal life with him in the mountain eating 2 meals a day and laugh until the end of time (or our next life)
Day 6. 2 meals a day and guess what they give us for dessert? Durian fruit. Now imagine the smelliest camembert ever. Plus your dirtiest socks. You're not even close to durian. I'm sure the staff was crying out of laughter as they were hiding watching us eating it because we had to. Very funny.
Day 7,8 : I'm getting attached to detachement. How do you achieve this wisdom. It's freaking painful to be a human being. I want to ve free again. Can hardly describe the intensity of the pain. ( and it was not just my bottom that hurt) Now the Thai girl is smiling in a full lotus position. Glad she is still alive.
Day 9 only were allowed 1 meal a today. the British Monk decided to describe a pizza for half an hour. He even told us how to break out to go and buy it.
I decided I would stop meditating and try to guess people's nationalities. More fun. Can't achieve anything anymore.
Day 10 '' meditation is not about achieving anything, it's about letting go off things'' the note on the white board said. Now why did not you say it before???? It would have saved me 10 days.......
7pm we can talk again. The german girl was actually Dannish , the french woman was from Belgium and the Italian guy was australian.
Guess who did NOT want to talk that night? The french, yes. I was probably the last one to use my voice that day.
7.30pm We could give public speech about our experience. I was expecting people to talk about their great meditation sensations and skills but no. Instead it was only hilarious speeches about how they all wanted to kill everyone and themselves after loving everyone and themselves. No one had any answers. But... what was the question anyway?
That's when we all let go and realised how close we all got to each other in Silence. We were friends beyond words, names , nationalities. We had developped something insanely deep and what were we all doing? Making ourselves suffer for no reason.
I WAS FREE THE WHOLE TIME.
My 10 days were justified when a couple of girls told me that I smiled at them or made them laugh with crazy sign language RIGHT at the time they wanted to quit. So they did not. Yes I WAS FREE THE WHOLE TIME.
And we chatted away for a long , long time , united with this incredible bond. Pain? What pain? We can't remember. We could only see our liberation. We even lost 2 kilos. What more to ask. We did not even ask for names. We were far beyond that, mate.
My speech in the end simply said '' Guys, I've got it now.tomorrow seems like a good day 1 ... right? What time do we start? It was a pleasure to NOT talk to you for 10 days. Day 1 of the first day of our lives. Good luck and... See you soon... in Nibbana''
Many people came to me the next day and ask me about what sort of Day 1 I was planning for myself. Without thinking I said :
" I'm staying to live here in the mosnastery for a while. Because now, I don't HAVE TO anymore, i just WANT TO''
Bloody French.
Marseillaise.
The silence? It was great...
Welcome to the 10 day meditation retreat In Suan Mokk International monastery. Please leave all temptation at reception. No music, no books , no writing , no mobile phones , no computer.
( My bag got a LOT lighter then)
You will find your mosquito net and your wooden pillow in the common room.
Wooden.. What?
'' it's the first 10 days that are the most difficult'' said Roy , my favourite 60 year old Brit with dread locks. He's done it before. He tried to warn me but I never believe the Brits. They're always having you on. Not this time.
We entered silence at 7pm that night. So we could just stare blankly at each other as we found out that our mattress was pure concrete. No it did not feel like concrete. It WAS concrete. We could always cry on the wooden pillow without leaving any marks though. That was the good thing.
'' Body no need happy at night. Body sleeps'' our favourite Thai monk told us. Yeah that makes sense. Bloody Bhuddist wisdom.
Silence was bliss for the first couple of days. When you've worked in Hospitality and devoted your life ( as only Kipps backpackers hostels staff would do )to guests from all around the world for the last 3 years, you can only take that as a treat when you are surrounded by them and can't talk.
'' You want to know what you can do in the area or where the freaking toilet is ? I wish I can tell you but... I CAN'T TALK!!!!!! HAHAHAH ( nasty revenge laugh)
It's not the silence that was hard for me. Or the cement bed. or the fact that we had wash with a bucket and water from the well. And wake up at 4am every morning. Or even the 2 meals a day.
It was about following rules in silence. ME. NOT. SURRENDER.
I hated that guy who was wearing a Tee shirt that read ''OBEY'' almost everyday ( He became a very good aussie friend in the days that followed the end of the retreat. Sorry mate)
Each time I heard the bell or had to listen to yet another person giving a speech for hours as we were sitting there on the ground pretending we could do the full lotus with every bit of our body aching . with no freedom of speech was a sort of purgatory for my french side.
So.. I took part in the french revolution in a past life and was now punished for it. Is that right?
Yes , that's the sort of thing you are thinking about when you can't talk. You think about crazy shit. I even heard the Marseillaise, my national anthem each time we had to obey to yet another thing. Wake up to the bell at 4am. Marseillaise. 1 hour sitting meditation. Marseillaise. 1 hour yoga. 1 hour Monk Speech ( called Dhamma talk) . Give me that damn breakfast or I will do the revolution. NO FREE TIME.
That's when I saw that french woman's tee that said '' I am not moaning I am expressing myself'' I knew I was not the only one.
'' Meditation is NOT a cheap way to get high'' said our beloved British coordinator that I will call Ken here on the first day.
There was a few '' have I been lied to ? '' kind of looks. A few drop outs followed too.
Did I tell you what meditation is all about? D.I.S.C.I.P.L.I.N.E. Following your breath and watch your thinking. Do not get invloved in it.
Concentrating on your breath is a good way to train your mind so it does what it's told. The big goal is to avoid attachement to anything or anyone as all situations are impermanent anyway. If you do get attached it will lead to '' Ducca '' (suffering). Achieve detachement and you'll be in ''Nibbana'' , a state of pure joy. So guys, discipline your minds and love your life and other.( see I was not sleeping the WHOLE time during Dhamma talks. Point for me: 10)
Then wisdom will come. Or sleep. Or something totally unexpected like you stand up and go and hug trees and talk to ants. They are so beautiful.... ( cries) . I remember one day when we all gathered in awe around a flower that just blossomed. I suspect even guys cried. I was talking to Spiders from day 5. Fear just goes away as you get back to Nature. Amazing really.
So basically MY mind went like that :
Day 1: Silence is gold mate. But it's too loud. I did not choose it. Biggest headache ever. I had to skip a class. Damn , I've got fever too. Oh, what's that? Tea against fever. Awesome. I'll have some. Yuk. What does it also say ? '' LAXAT..'' Craaaap. I soon understood why this place was called ''the garden of liberation''
Day 2: you can't expect a bunch of women to keep a vow of silence when there are spiders and deadly scorpions involved. Each time we hear a shout we all run with our best loving kindness to the room where the crime took place and try hard to remember that we signed a paper that said '' Please do not kill any living being.'' And no, it was no just each other.
Day 3 : How can you NOT kill a mosquito for biting you constantly just as you were starting to meditate for 8 minutes in a row during a 3 hour group session. Everyone seems to be so concentrated. Or asleep. The Thai girl behind me has not moved for 2days.
Day 4 : Anyone gave food to the Thai girl? How can anyone sits there for hours just because they are told to. How is that wise. Bunch of ignorant people. I know better. I will NOT do what I'm told. I will find MY OWN WAY.
Day 5 : I can't sit still for more than 2.5 minutes now. It was either I heard something hilarious or I jump into the pond with a heavy stone attached to my 2 feet. Or I could still jump in with the Thai girl who still has not moved. That's when my prayer was answered . British humor saved my life. Once again. The funniest man on this planet is a British dude from Bristol who decided to become a Bhuddist monk in Thailand.
ANd we were lucky enough to listen to him everyday. The king of guy who just shows up for a 1 hour long speech with no notes and makes it all up.
'' Where do you go after death? Don't know... Australia probably. For sure I don't want go to hell, I've lived in the UK for too long'' Then I started thinking about my ideal life with him in the mountain eating 2 meals a day and laugh until the end of time (or our next life)
Day 6. 2 meals a day and guess what they give us for dessert? Durian fruit. Now imagine the smelliest camembert ever. Plus your dirtiest socks. You're not even close to durian. I'm sure the staff was crying out of laughter as they were hiding watching us eating it because we had to. Very funny.
Day 7,8 : I'm getting attached to detachement. How do you achieve this wisdom. It's freaking painful to be a human being. I want to ve free again. Can hardly describe the intensity of the pain. ( and it was not just my bottom that hurt) Now the Thai girl is smiling in a full lotus position. Glad she is still alive.
Day 9 only were allowed 1 meal a today. the British Monk decided to describe a pizza for half an hour. He even told us how to break out to go and buy it.
I decided I would stop meditating and try to guess people's nationalities. More fun. Can't achieve anything anymore.
Day 10 '' meditation is not about achieving anything, it's about letting go off things'' the note on the white board said. Now why did not you say it before???? It would have saved me 10 days.......
7pm we can talk again. The german girl was actually Dannish , the french woman was from Belgium and the Italian guy was australian.
Guess who did NOT want to talk that night? The french, yes. I was probably the last one to use my voice that day.
7.30pm We could give public speech about our experience. I was expecting people to talk about their great meditation sensations and skills but no. Instead it was only hilarious speeches about how they all wanted to kill everyone and themselves after loving everyone and themselves. No one had any answers. But... what was the question anyway?
That's when we all let go and realised how close we all got to each other in Silence. We were friends beyond words, names , nationalities. We had developped something insanely deep and what were we all doing? Making ourselves suffer for no reason.
I WAS FREE THE WHOLE TIME.
My 10 days were justified when a couple of girls told me that I smiled at them or made them laugh with crazy sign language RIGHT at the time they wanted to quit. So they did not. Yes I WAS FREE THE WHOLE TIME.
And we chatted away for a long , long time , united with this incredible bond. Pain? What pain? We can't remember. We could only see our liberation. We even lost 2 kilos. What more to ask. We did not even ask for names. We were far beyond that, mate.
My speech in the end simply said '' Guys, I've got it now.tomorrow seems like a good day 1 ... right? What time do we start? It was a pleasure to NOT talk to you for 10 days. Day 1 of the first day of our lives. Good luck and... See you soon... in Nibbana''
Many people came to me the next day and ask me about what sort of Day 1 I was planning for myself. Without thinking I said :
" I'm staying to live here in the mosnastery for a while. Because now, I don't HAVE TO anymore, i just WANT TO''
Bloody French.
Marseillaise.
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