One Month Later

Sydney, Australia

It seems like a life time ago that I was working in Africa and travelling the world. But I have only been back a month. It is amazing how quickly life returns to normal. I thought there would have been a profound change inside me, that everything would be different. But I look at my life and things seem exactly the same. I took the same route home from work this morning, ordered the same coffee at my favourite coffee shop and returned to the same house.

Maybe I am more grounded, more aware. Seeing and experiencing so much must change a person. Things have returned to normal so fast and slipping back into routine has been surprisingly easy. I realise that I rarely talk about my life overseas, about the tragic beauty of it all. About the inspiring people I met, about the remarkable things I learnt.

So where do I go from here. Do I allow my self slip into a monotonous existence. I want to make the most of every moment. That is what I loved the most about being abroad. I never wasted a second. 

Simple Beauty

Sydney, Australia

Sunsets that look like artwork, trees swaying in the Autumn wind. It would be easy for me to become depressed now that I am back home and confronted with reality. I have had my moments of melancholy, wishing I could fly away again. However this morning something shifted. As I watched champagne coloured leaves surrender to the breeze, I remembered that life is beautiful. Seasons change and I need to be grateful for the wonders that each day brings.  I look forward to travelling again; seeing and experiencing a world different to my own. But for now I will remember to enjoy life's simple beauties.

Coming Home

Sydney, Australia (3 days after return)

I have been home for three days now and my body is weary. I am not sure if I am still jet lagged or maybe I am a little depressed.

I go to the travel agent before I even unpack my bags. “Maybe I will go to India” I say to the lady. “Have you travelled before” she asks. “Actually I just got home yesterday” I reply.

Coming home is comforting. I take large gulps of shower water. I drive my car with the security of knowing where I am going. (Being careful to remember that there are in fact road rules here. I cannot honk my horn instead of indicating).

It is the first time in four months that my feet are not caked in dirt. I can drink tap water again and the cool crisp air is refreshing after sixteen weeks of humidity.  I get to sleep in my own bed and finally unpack my bags.

But it is quiet here and it feels like something is missing.

Coming home has been is in part a paradox. Realising that everything has changed, yet nothing has.

I am not sure if I am different. I know I don’t want my life to become average. I have seen and experienced too much to be content with monotony.

So what now?

In time I am sure I will be able to understand how I have changed and what I should do next. But for now I feel like I am in limbo waiting until I fly away again.

Spontaneity

Sa Pa, Vietnam (day 113)

"It's disrespectful not to accept a drink when you visit someone's home" one of the girls whsipered with a smile. So we downed our eleventh shot of rice wine. Soon we were dancing and partying in a small village in Sapa. The drinks kept coming and the night got crazier. I was having the time of my life at this unexpected village party.

I realised this morning that this spontaneity is what I have grown to love so much about travel. Every day is an adventure and a suprise. Sometimes travel can be stressful, draining and heartbreaking. But mostly my travels have been exciting, inspiring and enlightining. Surrounded by beauty and culture.

I decided before this trip began that I would keep my mind open and make the most of every opportunity. I have been rewarded with memories that will last a life time and new knowlege that can not be learnt in books. I have grown more resilient and more mature.

I look forward to travelling again and learning and growing even more.

Beautiful Vietnam

Sa pa, Vietnam (day 111)

I am not sure if I have ever seen such a beautiful sight. As morning breaks in Sapa a sense of peace sweeps through me. I open the window of the bus and let the crisp dawn air flow through my hair. I can smell the faint aroma of cooking smoke and last nights rain. The mountains stretch far into the horizon and are wrapped with mist. Crops cover the mountains and steep valleys like an optical illusion. 

As I draw closer to the end of this journey I get lost in my thoughts.  I have have had the most amazing four months of my life. My journey had been tragic and beautiful, heartbreaking and inspiring.

Vietnam...The Highs and Lows (So Far)

Nha Trang, Vietnam (day 101)

My ability to write has somewhat deteriorated due to lack of sleep. So I have decided I will use dot points to sum up my highs and lows in Vietnam so far.

The Highs

• Exploring the Chi Chu tunnels in my red shirt.
• Cuddling a snake on the Mekong River
• The sleeper train from Saigon-Nha Trang (now that was fun)
• Mud baths in Nha Trang
• The spectacular scenery
  

The Lows

• Waking to the sounds of screaming at 4am in Saigon. A Vietnamese man had broken into a friends hotel room. She woke up to find him crawling past her bed
• Watching another friend fall through the floor of a long tail boat on the Mekong River. She fell into the motor and has he ankle shredded. She was rushed to hospital on a motorbike (that's right a motor bike). She then had the amazing experience of a Vietnamese rural hospital.

Changed

Saigon, Vietnam (day 100)

I am not the same person I was one hundred days ago. I cannot define how I have changed but I know I have. 

Diary of a Street Kid

Sihanouk ville, Cambodia (day 95)

I forgot for a second. I forgot who I was and where I was; it felt good. I long for those few short seconds before I wake up. Where I can float between a dream world and reality. Where I can forget how messed up my life actually is. I want to stay in that moment forever but my ankles itch with fresh mosquito bites and my stomach gnaws with hunger pains. So I crawl off the ground and begin my day.

Sorry I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Kun and I am nine years old. I live on the streets of Phnom Penh, Cambodia. My mother died of Malaria three years ago. Now it is just me, my dad and my sisters. My dad lost his right leg after he kicked a landmine so he can’t work. So now it is up to me to make sure we survive.

My sisters sell bracelets and books in the city. I do whatever work I can. Some days we make lots of money. I proudly carry home a big bowl of noodles and our family has a feast. On those days I get to go to sleep with a full tummy. Other days we don’t make any money. Then I have to try and steal so we can eat.

Sometimes I find myself crying. When I realize what is happening I pinch myself real hard. The weak cannot survive in Cambodia. So instead I get angry. I look at other kids my age and I am filled with envy. I would love to go to school or giggle with my friends in the park. I get angry at my mum for dying and I get angry at my dad for only having one leg.

I hope one day that I can make more money. So we can get our own house and the girls can go to school. We will be able to feast on food every day and be able to forget what hunger pains feel like

First They Killed My Father

Phnom Penh, Cambodia (day 92)

I woke up last night screaming and thrashing my body, drenched in sweat. Perhaps for a second I felt the smallest fragment of the fear the Cambodian people felt during the Khmer Rouge

Today I visited the Tuol Sleng prison (a school transformed into a prison where they incarcerated and tortured men, women and children during the Khmer Rouge) and the Choeung Ek Killing Fields

As I walked through Tuol Sleng my stomach was queasy and my heart ached. Photo's covered the walls of child soldiers and inmates. I looked into the eyes of these people. Many of their eyes looked empty, like their souls had long ago departed their bodies. Other photos showed haunted faces their eyes glazed with terror. Some of the men and women were already dead and the photo's showed their tortured, lifeless bodies.

As I continued to walk through the grounds of the prison their were reminders of what these people endured. Equipment used to torture them, their cells and the chains that entrapped them. The Khmer Rouge soldiers even covered the balconies with barbered wire to prevent people from taking their own life (even suicide was a privilege not allowed).

I was drawn to a photo of e female prisoner with her baby in her arms. I can not begin to imagine what it would be like for a mother. How helpless and afraid she must have felt knowing she could not protect her own child.

After leaving Tuol Slend we made our way towards the Choeung Ek killing fields. This is the location where thousands of men, women and children were murdered and thrown into mass graves.

One of these graves held the bodies of women, children and babies. The women were buried naked as the soldiers 'raped them for fun' before killing them. Less than a meter away stood a large tree that soldiers titled the killing tree. The executors would hold the babies by the ankles and swing their tiny heads against the truck. After the babies heads were fractured they were thrown into the mass grave like a piece of trash. I stared at the tree and I wondered how something that was used to cause so much harm could still bare green leaves.

On the way out their was a stupor (a dome-shaped monument, used to house Buddhist relics or to commemorate significant facts of Buddhism). The stupor stood about 20 meters high. Inside on display were the bones and skulls of just some of the victims killed at the killing fields. The shelves grouped the skulls by age and gender (juvenile male, juvenile female, elder male)

As I sit here now I struggle to comprehend how humans can be capable of causing so much pain. When I think of Pol Pot I imagine this evil man with a malevolent smile. I am surprised how normal he actually looked. He could be anyone walking down the street. 

Still I am comforted when I look at the Khmer people so warm and kind. Their smiles so radiant as they stand proud. I am thankful that humans are resilient and I hope that at the end of the day good in humanity will always be a stronger force.

The Floating Village

Tonle Sap, Cambodia (day 88)

This afternoon we explored a floating village near Tonle Sap, Cambodia. We took a boat ride along a shallow river. The boat slowly chugged down the river towards a large lake.

As we drew closer families and children flocked towards out boat. A mother with four children drew close. She latched onto the boat and floated beside us. A baby and small child lay asleep on the floor of the small boat. The babies face was caked with dirt as insects buzzed around his naked body. His rib cage and swollen belly moved up and down very slowly reminding me of a  world vision commercial. His brother (I think) who was maybe four years old sat with his mother. A python was wrapped around his neck. The snake boy and his sister held out their hands begging for one dollar. Their desperation and sad hollow eyes made my heart ache. 

Another mother and her baby attempted to reach our boat. She too begging for money. When her baby started crying she cupped the water from the lake. She then poured this dirty, green smelly water into the babies mouth. "Only the strong survive here", some one said later as we talked about what we had seen. Other children in floating buckets paddled towards us asking for sweets and money.

People tell me that I should ignore the child beggars. But I cannot bring myself to do this. I do not want to pretend they are invisible. 

After visiting the floating village our boat chugged back along the river towards Siem Reap. The sun was setting and the floating village looked so beautiful as it was painted by the cherry horizon. I took in a deep breath and I wondered again how beauty and tragedy can so easily co-exist.