A journey

I am back in Thailand. I sure have to get used to people not understanding English after having been in New Zealand and Australia for more than a month. Yesterday I tried to go to ‘the rose garden’, a place 10 kilometers outside Bangkok where they perform traditional dances and such. After having caught a bus to the Southern terminal, I got stranded. Nobody, not even information, spoke English and so nobody could tell me which bus to take from there. After twenty minutes I realized I was really stuck. I called my hostel and asked them to tell someone from information in Thai where I wanted to go to. I was then told which bus I needed to take, but nobody accompanied me to the bus, so as soon as I got on the bus the same thing happened. I tried to explain I wanted to go to ‘the rose garden’, mimicking smelling roses and all, and I thought they had understood. Well they clearly hadn’t, as one hour later I was about 60 kilometers outside Bangkok and kicked out of the bus, as it was the terminal, unceremoniously.

Whilst I sat on that bus for sixty minutes I started thinking about how I had learned English. My earliest memory of me trying to speak English is when I am about eight years old and playing ‘Batman and Robin’ with my brother. The Batman and Robin we watched on tv spoke English, therefore, we needed to speak English. The problem was that apart from ‘yes’ and ’no’ we didn’t know any English words. Our solution was to speak Dutch with an English accent and to use the words ‘yes’ and ‘no’ A LOT.

During primary school I didn’t have any English lessons. When I was twelve our teacher did show us a video that was supposed to teach us English. He himself left the room. The video was called ‘the lost druid’. I remember the title clearly, as we were made to watch it at least five times. I didn’t mind, as I liked ‘the lost druid’, although it failed to teach me any English. At the end of that year, which was my final year of primary school, the teacher bought a new video. I don’t know what that one was called as I only watched it once, but it was about aliens coming to earth. This video taught me the English alphabet though, as the aliens kept singing it and I am very good at remembering songs.

English was obligatory all the way through secondary school. Although I later studied English at university, it wasn’t love at first sight. I really hated the subject in the beginning. My English teacher, from Indonesia, kept speaking very fast in a language I didn’t understand and expected me to keep up. Apart from the alphabet and ‘yes’ and ‘no’, I didn’t understand what she was on about. I really couldn’t keep up and always failed my tests miserably. I was so bad that my teacher actually advised me to concentrate on my other subjects as English clearly wasn’t for me.

So, I struggled on, because I had to do the final exam. I didn’t enjoy it one bit until I passed the ‘MAVO’ and started the ‘HAVO’ (the Dutch educational system is too complicated to explain here to people who are unfamiliar with it, but I was 16 and began a higher level of secondary education after passing that exam). I got a different teacher and he introduced me to English literature. Now, I had always enjoyed reading, but up to that point all the books I had read were either Dutch or English, German or French books that were written in baby language and therefore not a pleasure to read, to put it mildly. This teacher, however, introduced me to Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters and many other wonderful writers. I loved reading these books. The style of them was so different from the Dutch books I had read up till then. But, I needed to build up my vocabulary and my English in general in order to understand them. I started making lists while I was reading, I translated my favorite songs, and I also, and this is a bit embarrassing, started to have fake conversations out loud in English with myself! It did work though, because my English classes were finally starting to make sense and my grades went up. When I finished secondary school my average for English had gone up to an eight (out of ten).

I remember I went to Scotland that summer. I was eighteen and it was the first time I really went abroad alone. I quickly found out that the English I had learned in the classroom was nothing like the English spoken by native speakers. Everybody spoke very fast and, even worse, they pronounced words in such a strange way. I immediately felt like the thirteen year old listening to her Indonesian teacher talking about something incompressible all over again. For example. I was working as a volunteer for the RSPB (Royal Society Protection of Birds) at the time on a little island called Isle of Islay. I mainly looked after the cattle. One day I was working with a local guy, I don’t recall his name, when the cows started running towards me and the open gate I was standing next to. It was quite a nerve-wracking sight and I asked the guy, who was standing a few meters away, unsurely if I should close the gate. “Aye” he answered, which I took for “I”. You see, my teachers had definitely never used the word “Aye” while teaching, so I had no clue what it meant. So, I looked at him dumbfounded and repeated my question, “Should I close the gate?”. “Aye” he answered again this time more pressing. “I what?”, I said, and at the same time all the cows ran past us.

Anyway, in the end I got the right bus to ‘the rose garden’ where I watched a cultural show. It sucked big time. Getting back to Bangkok was much easier, as the words ‘Bangkok’ and ‘Kao San Road’ were understood by all.

Love and Peace,
Jonna

wwoof

The first time I heard of wwoofing was in San Diego. I was talking to a girl who worked in the hostel I was staying in and she told me her dream was to go to Hawaii. She was trying to save money so she could go there, but kept spending her money on clothes and other stuff she bought impulsively. Her new plan was to save enough for a ticket and then wwoof there. She enthusiastically told me “you only have to work in the morning, you get the afternoon and weekends off so you can go surfing, and you get free accommodation and food”. I googled wwoof as soon as I got home and got very enthusiastic myself.

Wwoofing stands for either “Willing Workers on Organic Farms” or “World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms”. This holiday I’ve joined the organization, which costs 40 dollars. Unfortunately, you only join the wwoof organization of one country, in my case wwoof New Zealand. The way the program works is that you get access to different wwoof hosts as soon as you have become a member. You then e-mail a host that appeals to you and ask if you can work for him/here/them during a certain time. I was going to work for one week for an organic yoga retreat close to Taupo. I was really looking forward to work in their organic vegan/vegetarian kitchen and in the organic garden, but, alas, the day before I was to work there they told me that they didn’t need me anymore as a group cancelled.

The next morning during breakfast I was sulking when a Dutch girl came and sat opposite of me. We started talking and I apologized to her for not being in the best of moods. I explained to her that I had expected to start woofing that day and that I was bitterly disappointed that it had fallen through. Then something very Celestine Prophecy happened. She told me she was going wwoofing that day in Whangarei, and that the host had said that there was enough room for two people. She asked me if I wanted to join her and called the host. So, I ended up wwoofing in the garden of a Dutch/Kiwi girl called Anna, and I am glad I did! I had a really good time, and though the original plan was we would stay only three days, we stayed a full week. During that time we got rid of all the weed in the back garden, sorted out the compost, cleared the hallway of nails, ordered fresh earth and, on my last day, planted all kinds of vegetables. But apart from the work, I just had a great time staying at Anna’s lovely house, meeting some of her friends, playing with Anna’s cat, picnicking at the black beach, going canoeing with the other volunteers, and just in general enjoying the hospitality.














The weird thing is that even though I had never heard of wwoofing before last year, everybody I meet here seems to be doing it. I don’t know if it is just very popular in New Zealand, or if it is one of those cases where as soon as you heard of something new you come across it way more often.

I know for sure that it isn’t very popular in Morocco, where I am going in December and where I also wanted to wwoof. There are just two wwoof addresses! Which is a shame because I am really interested in working on a citrus fruit farm and they are bound to be in Morocco. But, I am not worrying about it, because I might just meet a girl there while I am having breakfast who will start wwoofing at a citrus fruit farm that day and will ask me to join her!

A grateful Jonna

Tired Traveler

I haven’t written in a while. It wasn’t that nothing interesting happened or a lack of inspiration. I just wasn’t awake long enough to and do something and write a blog about it. Ever since I arrived in Cambodia I have been feeling super, super tired. Even at the moment of writing I am so tired that I just had a nap and then re-applied the anti-bag cream under my eyes!

At first I thought it was the warm weather, something I am not used to as a Dutch girl. I thought it was the constant moving, change in diet, the lack of good sleep as I often share a room with noisy strangers, or simply my body relaxing and feeling the accumulated tiredness of the past months. But I became kind of worried when the weeks progressed and the feeling of fatigue only increased. I started to have cold chills, pain in my bones (especially in my joints) and became very forgetful and unfocused.

Another reason why I didn’t worry at first was that my travel companion Rinskje experienced the exact same symptoms. I guess it became sort of normal to sleep for eleven hours and then having to drag ourselves to the sights of Cambodia, Singapore, Australia and New Zealand. We both had to run frequently to a toilet, as our bladders wanted to relief themselves every 45 minutes. This symptom became so annoying after a few weeks that I did go to a doctor in Auckland. She did some tests and it turned out had a urinary tract infection and also anaemia.

Some antibiotics and iron-rich food later I started feeling a whole lot better. The doctor in Auckland suggested that the anaemia could be a side effect of a virus, and that I therefore should get myself tested again. I went to the hospital in Wanganui, where a very nice Dutch doctor works. He checked me inside and out, and it turned out that I have (or recently have had) a virus or bacteria. He checked a few possibilities, so I now know that I do not have dengue or malaria. That’s a relief! The only thing that came up was a past infection of the cytomegalovirus, but it is not sure when I had that infection as there are no previous results to compare the outcome with.
Because the virus is still in my blood I have to go to my GP when I am back in the Netherlands. Just to make sure my body has got rid of this evil visitor. I know that I should rest at the moment, so my body gets a chance to recover. It is just so hard to do nothing when you are surrounded by opportunities to do the things you love and that you normally never get to do. It’s no fun to be in Raglan and not being able to surf!!!!!

Despite everything I gave it a go yesterday, but I shouldn’t have. I loved the first hour, the waves here are perfect. But then my body became so cold that I couldn’t stop shivering. I stupidly thought that if I would be more active, my blood would start to get running again and I would get warmer. In fact, I tired myself out to the point I nearly drowned. I swallowed at least 1 liter of sea water! I gave up and spent the rest of the day feeling exhausted, sick and cold. I am still recovering from those two hours today…..

Jonna (not in the best of moods)

The road well traveled

I am writing this post in a guilt-ridden moment. It is six in the morning and in three hours I’ll fly to Singapore. Rinskje and I spent the night on a wooden bench outside the international airport of Phnom Penh. Turns out this airport is closed between midnight and 5 a.m.!

As we are on the point of leaving Cambodia, I feel guilty for only posting one blog about Cambodia, one that mainly consists of pictures as well (although they do tell a story). The main thing on my mind during my three week stay here wasn’t the Khmer scarf though, nor the tasty baguettes, pyjama donned ladies or ready -to -laugh people. My main concern was mines.

In theory I know that the chances of me stepping on a landmine are pretty slim. I see other tourists trodding around the sights and surroundings without giving the idea a second thought, often ignoring the areas that have been taped off to signal mine danger. I haven’t heard about throngs of tourists that have stepped on a mine; in fact I was told that most people with mine injuries are either people that work on the land a lot or Cambodians without any fear of mines who have tried to disassemble one.

On the other hand, I read in the “lonely planet” about mines around Angkor Wat, stressing not to go off the path, even when you go to the toilet. I learned about the dangers of mines in the landmine museum, founded by Aki Ra who used to be a Khmer Rouge soldier as a child. As a soldier he hid mines all over the country, but he now spends his time defusing any uxo he can lay his hands on. The strongest reminders of lurking danger, however, are the Cambodians all over the country with missing body parts.

Being blessed with a very imaginative mind, I have more or less constantly feared being one of the few tourists who will be killed or maimed by a mine. Especially in the North West of Cambodia, where most of the mines were laid in an attempt to keep the Thai out, I therefore developed special techniques to minimize the risk. Apart from never straying from the trodden paths, I tried to use branches and stones as much as possible. I picked that up during the before-mentioned visit to the landmine museum. Landmines apparently weren’t placed there, although you can’t be sure where landmines are after a shower. Did I mention it is raining season here?

I now have new scars on my arms because I fell down a couple of times, trying to avoid the landmines. But I feel pretty grateful that is all the harm I suffered during my time here.

Love,
Jonna

Jonna and the secret of the Khmer scarf

I love Cambodian traditional scarves! They are so multifunctional. Here are some ways people use the scarf, but the list will definitely grow longer over time. You can use the scarf:

as a scarf (duh!)

to keep your lap warm

to protect your head from the sun

to fall asleep on a long bus ride

as a belt

as a skirt

to pull a cart

Jonna

Thai massage with a happy ending

The past five days I have spent massaging people and receiving massages, with the effect that I am now the proud owner of the ‘certificate of achievement’ of the Wat Po traditional medical school. I have mastered the general Thai massage course and so I can call myself a masseuse, I guess. Apparently, you are able to open a massage parlor here in Thailand just with this certificate. Wat Po, where I studied, is the largest and oldest temple in Bangkok and is famous for its giant lying Buddha and, no surprises there, Thai massage. In fact, Wat Po is seen as the place where traditional Thai massage originates from.

The type of massage that I learned the past few days isn’t the relaxing kind, during which you doze off. It is actually quite painful. You don’t use oil, but just press points on the body with your fingers, hands, elbow or feet. The points you press are on one of the ten major energy lines in the human body. According to my instruction leaflet these lines are everywhere in the body, about 2 centimeters under the skin. When you press on certain points of these lines (and in a certain way) the internal energy will be stimulated, which will heal ailing organs and glands and get rid of toxins.



my foot with massage points


A lot of the Thai massage philosophy reminded me of the ideas on the body in England in the Middle Ages / Renaissance. For example, Thai medical theory considers the body to consist of the four elements (earth, water, wind and fire). If these elements are out of balance, the body will become ill. What I remember from university courses, it was believed in England during the before mentioned periods that the body consisted of the 4 elements (also called the 4 humours), which corresponded to bodily fluids (black bile, phlegm, blood and yellow bile). These fluids had to stay in balance for the body to stay healthy. Kind of the same thing, right? But I have never read anything about massage as a remedy for humours that are out of balance in the Middle Ages/Renaissance. I think bloodletting was a more popular remedy back then.

Anyway, back to my course. I was in a group with 5 other people and we had to learn about 100 massage positions in just 5 days! It wasn’t just these points on the body we had to memorize, with every position you have to know how to sit (down or up), how to place the hands (from above or from the front), where to place your feet, how much pressure to use, and the right sequence of all these positions. We also learned when we must not give a massage to people, but that part was pretty straightforward.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the time to do a follow-up course, but I would very much like to do one in the future. I will practice a lot during the coming period on my fellow traveler(s)! It probably will come in handy this Saturday, after I have been on a 13 hour bus ride to Cambodia.

Love,
Jonna

Alpha

This is the first time I made an attempt to write a post for my blog. I am not a fan of writing a diary, so that is why I have been postponing it all this time. That and because I am dead scared everybody will notice all my spelling and grammar mistakes! ‘Why have a blog in the first place?’ It seemed like the best solution to all the people who asked me to e-mail them while I am travelling. And I guess it still is.

As this first post is just a kick off, I am making it easy on myself and leave it at this. Let me finish by saying that soon posts will follow with juicy stories, cute pictures and gory details of everything I encounter in Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, New Zealand, Morocco or anywhere else I might be.

Love,
Jonna