Ok let it be known I absolutely and undeniably love to dance!
My love affair with dancing has spanned over a 17 year period and has impressively lasted longer than any of my relationships. From a young gawky teenager who was so self-conscious that I absolutely refused to get on the dance floor, to a stroppy student who discovered the advantages of alcohol and then absolutely refused to get off it! House, grunge, Country, Adult contemporary, hip hop, punk rock, dub-step.....Thanks to the many varied boyfriends in my life I have had had the privileged of experiencing it all.......
A little known fact: Dancing is actually how I met Midget, who would later become my dancing Protégé (Please note I taught her everything she knows.....)
We used to spend many a nights shaking our booties at good old grungy Shepard's Bush Walkabout ...where your feet are permanently stuck to the floor and the men have considerably more hands than octopi.....but we didn't care....we simply swotted the flailing hands and danced, danced, danced!!! (Undoubtedly some of the happiest times in Little Midgets life!!!)
Anyway where was I? So as briefly mentioned in my previous blog I have been blessed to make some wonderful friends since moving back to Port Elizabeth....with one slight problem. They are all married, with 2 kids and unfortunately have little interest in burning up the calories on the dance floor, surrounded by 20 somethings and good old single me. Don't get me wrong I dont blame them, I personally get exhausted just watching them look after their kids and I'm pretty sure when I have mine (one day soon) my love affair with dancing will finally have to take a backseat. But as it stands I'm not married (yet), I dont have kids (yet) and I still LOVE to dance. And so this has left me with this massive socializing GAP in my life.....I want to go out....I want to meet people but I dont have anyone to go out with. These last couple of months the itch has got incredibly bad and as mentioned I have been down right miserable.
I often used to go out alone as a student, but as I have dismally bemoaned to my girls, Kelly and Bronnie:"I was younger then...." and "I knew everyone....." "This is completely different!" "Its harder now you know...bla, bla, bla, Bla !!!"
(Yawn....Excuses, Excuses, Excuses!!!)
After doing my "Face your fears" speech I finally got the courage to get over myself, took the plunge and started going out by myself again! (What on earth took me so long...is now beyond me? But lets just say its been a liberating experience.)
Now I'm not sure if you have noticed this.....but I'm the type of person that is ALWAYS thinking! Some might call this continuous contemplation and self-defying introspection a curse but I have quite frankly come to love this part of me. Believe me, I used to hate it....but these days it amuses me more than anything that I am constantly analyzing things that so many people might just take for granted. I like to think it makes me a better person and it often gives rise to those wonderful :"AAAHAAA moments" when things just "click" and suddenly make sense to me.
I absolutely love those moments of clarity and it was on the dance floor one night that I had such a moment, all-be it a frivolous one!
Allow me to share:
Now as previously admitted I have shamelessly used alcohol for many years to, lets say, mildly loosen my inhibitions. I wouldn't say that I obsessively drink but a prerequisite for me getting on the dance floor would usually be a couple of drinks before hand. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with that, but for me, a person that doesn't really drink at any other time, I have begun to feel like a bit of a sham! I have managed to let go of my reservations in so many different areas of my life these last couple of years. I have traveled the world alone, I have learn't to put my thoughts out there without worrying (too much) about what other people will think of me, I can walk into a room and be completely and utterly my charming self .....all this I can do without alcohol (AND CIGARETTES!)....so why still the need to drink a couple of drinks before I get on the dance floor? And the question that haunts me.....am I a good dancer? Or am I just so "uninhibited" I just dont care???
I know of course that I'm not alone. Night Clubs are filled to the brim with people all needing alcohol to loosen up. There are however those few lucky people, Midget being one of them that are perfectly happy to dance without any such props. But what is it about dancing that causes the rest of us such panic?
On one such night out alone I was determined to try and figure this one out, once and for all. So I hit my local, Belize's, equally determined not to use my dancing crutch, alcohol.
So I head over to the dance floor, to my usual spot...only to discover a group of about 6 guys were in MY spot. Not only were they, in MY spot.....but they were absolutely awesome dancers. (How any one can move that fast is beyond me?) Now I had to get onto the dance floor and dance next to the Justin Timber-lake/Micheal Jackson gang......the pressure was on. Needless to say sober as a judge I couldn't do it and merely hang around at the back watching them in awe. (ok so I lasted about 15 minutes and then went and bought ONE beer) .....hhhmmmm...experiment was still on of course, you have to make allowances for the fact that I was OUT all by myself....(if you are single girl in a club without a drink, without a cigarette AND not dancing......men will simple assume you are there to be picked up...it was absolutely imperative that I looked busy! - OK so that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!;-)
So I returned to my spot with my beer in hand, and continued to watch JTM gang. Eventually they must have got my Telepathic signal that they were actually on MY spot and they moved! Very slowly trying not to look too conspicuous I edged my way onto the dance floor. I started dancing but then it hit me with absolute clarity why I don't like dancing without my aid.....
a) My feet wouldn't do what they were told.
b) I couldn't find the beat of the music at all
c) I was overwhelmed by the glare of the spotlight that seemed to magically appear on me and the voices and laughter..... in my head were deafening!!!
I felt 15 years old again. This absolutely Sucked!!!
What to do....what do do? Well I wasn't going home, so determined as ever I ignored the abuse my mind was hurling at me and kept on moving. After a while my gaze drifted over to the before mentioned JTM boys. The first thing that I noticed quite clearly was how some people seemed to be laughing or sniggering at these guys. There was even some useless man who came up to them and quite rudely started imitating them.... the teacher in me wanted to rush over and shout: " Whats wrong with you people? Do you actually realize how talented these guys are...why on earth are you making fun of them?? Of course the real reason I got so upset was..."if they laugh at them.....how do I know they wont laugh at me?" I watched in fascination as the boys just kept on dancing obliviously choosing to ignore all their taunters. I was impressed and intrigued. One of the guys who was especially good kept on trying to dance with different women.....only to have them attempt to keep up with him for .....mmmm...about 2 minutes and then shrink off in embarrassment. At one point I watched him throw his hands up in frustration. (the curse of being an awesome dancer I suppose) Now it was at this point that a little voice in side me started thinking..."You can dance with him Gayle....Go on you can give it a go" I mean what better way to conduct my social experiment of dance than to throw myself into the lime light with the best dancer in the club...right?
So I very deftly idled my way, inconspicuously, over to their side of the dance floor hoping desperately that he would notice me and take the bait!
Eventually after dancing there for about 15 minutes and having absolutely NO luck in getting his attention. (clearly this time, the telepathic message was not going through) the voices in my head got louder and I heard Parnoid Angel begin to make her summation of my scientific experience.
"Gayle, Good dancer hasn't noticed you...therefore YOU = bad sober dancer!! This is not fun. Lets go home!!!!"
It was was at this point the Common Logic stepped in with a roaring shout: "What?? You are giving up just like that? You haven't even danced with the man yet? absolutely no ways are you quitting now you big baby!! I forbid it!!!"
(The great thing about me now, is that these days I very seldom allow Paranoid Angel to win an argument. As far as gremlins go, I doubt she will ever fade away completely but I'm sure as hell not going to allow her to call the shots anymore.)
So I walked straight up to good JTM dancer, said: hi I'm Gayle...you really should forget about trying to find a women to dance with .... do you want to dance?!!!
Now I'm not sure if I mention just awesome this guy was at dancing.....but he was pretty amazing......I lasted about ....mmmmmm 2 minutes and then I started to feel quite uncomfortable. As hard as I was trying to keep in rhythm with the man...he had NO rhythm...he was the anti-rhythm of dance..and that just made me feel even more awkward and out of place.
After about 5 minutes of me hopeless trying to find and match his beat I exasperatedly implored him......"how do you move so fast- I cant keep up"
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was when he leaned over and gave me some enlightening advice: "Forget about the beat....just listen to your feet!" (no seriously....he did say that!) I'm not sure if it was the fact that he was a poet and didn't know it.......or just because he was suggesting something that I hadn't actually considered for a moment before. But I kinda had one of those AHAAAA moments. Could it be that I had spent all these years worrying about whether or not I was able to keep the beat when really, to be a good dancer means not really caring? Could it be I succumbed to the ultimate belief that if other people think I'm a good dancer then I am?
Honestly it was like the gates of heaven opened and all of a sudden I was dancing in absolute sunlight. Could it be, it had taken 17 years of mildly tipsy dancing for me to get to this point where I was actually able to dance and have fun without the incessant chatter of the inner voices. I must have danced with him for what seemed like 30 minutes but was probably more like 7 minutes before his dancing buddies pulled him away from me to the other side of the dance floor. I wanted to scream: " Nooooo why are you taking the sun from me???!!!" but I managed to control the paranoia and just continued dancing to my completely new-found "anti-rhythm."
And so I ended up spending the rest of the night dancing with a group of about 8 student pilots, having the absolute time of my life and absolutely no need for any more alcohol. Now how to give a visual? Put it this way...at times when I caught my self in the mirror.....my arms were flailing in something that remotely resembled the funky chicken and my legs where not too far off from a very bad 'Forest Gump-Elvis' impersonation. (I can see midget smiling now, as she has on rare occasion seen this hidden Gayle come out) Yes.....I have to admit....some people stop, many stare and some found it hard to stifle their sniggers.....but there was such a feeling of absolutely elation for me.....because for the first time EVER......I was dancing, I was having fun, I didn't need alcohol (well maybe one beer) and I really and truly didn't give a continental rats arse about what anyone else thought about me!!!
And that, is what I believe, is the true science of dance!
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
Moving forward.
Hi all
Ok so I know its been a while and I kind of thought I had finished with this blog, but during a chat with my wonderful friend Bronnie last night, (the one and only, who is visiting from Australia), she mentioned how sad she was that I never got to finish my blog properly.....and I have to admit I felt the same.
Following that I was all of a sudden overwhelmed with this urge to write and I decided that this particular journey is definitely no where near from finished and that my dad would have wanted me to finish it on a high!
Needless to say its been a pretty eventful year moving back home to South Africa.
A couple of months ago I got asked to speak at Extreme Models Annual Mother and Daughter high tea.
The topic: Empowering women in their daily lives
My first official engagement as a life coach.....Yehaaaaa!!!
Of course it seemed to arrive at the absolute worst possible time when I was struggling more than ever with myself, and my newly made life in South Africa. I had spent the first couple of months home, in a frenzied-empowered high.
My goal: "I must get work, I must make money-Nothing else matters". But as is so often the case: When we work so hard towards achieving our goals, with the simple belief that achieving them will bring us peace and happiness, we are often let down. After more than achieving what I had originally set out to earn by the end of July I was suddenly no longer worrying about being financially stable and my focus suddenly shifted to my severe lack of a social life and friends. I was missing all my old friends incredibly, as the void between my UK life and SA life seemed to be expanding rapidly, on a daily basis. (Let it be known please, that even Midget fell completely off the radar during this time, some lame excuse about holidaying in Thailand? I mean really Midget....you should be absolutely ashamed of yourself. Is it any wonder I nearly fell apart? ;-)
So I was struggling unbelievably to make new friends, and I felt overwhelmingly claustrophobic as a result of having absolutely no one to just go out with. On top of that I was 36 and STILL single. STILL single!!! The Absolute Horror!! can you imagine!!;-) I was pretty sure that, somewhere out there in PE, there did infact exist some more single people (maybe even some my age?) ....but I was at a loss as to how I was EVER going to meet any of them if I had NO one to go out with!! So needless to say it was at this point that I felt totally and utterly 'un-inspired' and wholly 'dis-empowered'(if there is such a word?)
My initial reaction on reading the email requesting me to speak was to actually laugh out loud: "You have got to be kidding God? Now of all times? You couldn't have sent this two months ago when I was at my best? This is a joke right?"
I think its incredible how certain things come to you at just the right time. A couple of days after I had arrived home, in December, I randomly picked up an article about facing your fears and simply getting into the habit of doing things: no matter how terrified you might feel. I have read countless such articles through the years... but for some reason this one just stuck with me and has turned out to be my ultimate maxim this year: "If it scares the hell out of you Gayle....just do it!" It was what gave me the courage to set up my own tutoring business and the guts to finally start selling myself, it even gave me the strength to get through an incredible 10 day Vispassna Course in June.... (10 days of no speaking or communicating and 11 hours a day of desperately trying to sit still and meditate - possible the hardest thing I have ever had to do but undoubtedly one of the greatest and most empowering experiences I have ever had.)
Needless to say my maxim has served me well.
So faced with another mind numbing fear I said yes and started writing. Low and behold it seemed to be the perfect cure for pulling me out of my self induced pity-party slump.
Instead of focusing on what I didn't have, friends to go out with, I began focusing on the new friends I had made since being home. I began to appreciate their love and support and just found myself grateful for time that I was able to spend with them and their families. I began to realize how amazing it was to finally have one of my oldest and dearest friends, Kelly, back in my life - in full force, even if it was only on the phone. I was thankful to finally be able to spend time with my mother, who absolutely loves and adores me and for the chance to reconnect with my other family members. I was overwhelmed with gratitude to be home, at last, and found myself armed with a new measure of faith and awareness that everything I need comes to me and that some things, like building a new life and making new friends you just dont want to rush.....
(For those of you that are interested I have included a copy of my speech....Midget, you on the other hand might just want to skip this and go to the next blog....were I do believe you will have a minor supporting role!;-)
Conquering our fears.
First of all I would like to start by saying a very big thank you to all of you for having me here to speak to day. I am very honored to be here.
This is actually my first public talk as a life coach so please forgive me if I seem really nervous.
Before I start I'd like to just tell you briefly about myself. I am a PE girl born and bred but I have been living and teaching in London for the last 12 years. During that time while I was desperately unfulfilled as a teacher I happened to stumble across life coaching. I have to admit that at a time when I was very unhappy with the direction my life had taken…..life coaching seemed incredibly attractive. I couldn’t help but think If I learn't how to help other people to live more balanced, happy, fulfilling lives then just maybe I could start teaching myself?
Over the next three years I was challenged to really start thinking honestly about who I was and what it was I wanted from my life. It was also during this time that I noticed a total shift in my teaching. I was hit by the powerful realization of how I had spent so much of my life comparing and judging myself against other people, especially against other teachers. I had been my own worst critic and it had been utterly exhausting. For the first time I began to appreciate and embrace my own unique gifts as a teacher, and I actually started to enjoy teaching. Ironically what I thought was going to be my ultimate escape from the teaching world was anything but. After qualifying as a life coach practitioner I eventually moved back to PE in December last year and ended up starting my own tutoring business…with a little life coaching on the side...which I’m now absolutely loving.
When Veruska emailed me and asked me to come and speak to you my initial feelings were: Absolute Sheer Panic and overwhelming self doubt! The good thing about me now, compared to a couple of years ago is that I now realize that these emotions are not unique to me and that almost everyone feels them at some point in their lives. How we handle these emotions is what makes the difference between us simply living our lives and us truly enjoying our lives.
So I hope you don’t mind but after spending a good couple of days trying to figure out what exactly it was that I was going to speak to you about I eventually decided to focus on the one thing that has been incredibly significant to me in my life, and that prevents so many of us from being the incredible women that we truly are. Conquering our fears.
There isn’t a single person in this world that isn’t faced with one fear or another every single day... the fear of failure, the fear of rejection, the fear of being alone, the fear of change...the fear of not being good enough...the list is endless. As completely normal as it is for us as humans to feel fear, fear can, if we allow it, become our greatest enemy.
Fear causes anxiety, stress and worry about what might happen in our future...and yet that being said about 90% of what we do worry about never actually happens. That means most of our fears and negative worries only have about a 10% chance of being correct or coming true! I think one of the best acronyms I have heard that sums up what the true meaning of fear is False, Evidence, Appearing, Real.
Dr Joseph Murphey author of a wonderful book called the power of your subconscious mind explains this beautifully with this example:
"A small child can be paralyzed with fear when a playmate says that there is a monster underneath his bed who will grab him in the middle of the night. But when the child's parent turns on the light and shows the child that there is no monster he is freed from his fear. The fear in the mind of the child was every bit as real as if there was a monster there. But the thing he feared did not exist, in the same way that most of our fears have no reality. Fear is simply a negative thought in our mind that we give our power away to."
I honestly feel like this year has been my year for facing my fears. If you had of asked me this time last year what my 3 worst fears where they would have been
1. Loosing my dad
2. Moving back to South Africa
3. And public speaking.
Number one and two on my list where all consuming and played against each other beautifully……My dad has not been well for a good couple of years now and the fear of loosing him could at times be absolutely overwhelming. I usually came home for Christmas and saying goodbye at that airport was always heart breaking...I continually worried whether that would be the last time I saw my father. In fact I more than worried, being a real daddies girl, I adored my father and I obsessed about how miserable I would be without him in my life. But as much as I allowed that fear to keep me busy, my fear of actually moving back to South Africa seemed more than able at keeping me rooted in London. As much as I hated the weather there I was more petrified of the crime here. As frustrated as I was teaching in the school that I was at, I was more daunted by the thought of having to live off a teachers salary in South Africa. I was petrified of having to start my life over here and remake a whole new circle of friend...when I was more than happy with the ones I already had. As with most fears, I had excuses for everything but I wasn’t happy. I knew I wanted to come home but I just couldn’t make that decision and I felt completely debilitated.
Finally after seeing how much my dads health had deteriorated when I came home for Christmas 2009 Fear no 1, finally defeated fear number 2 and I made plans to come home. I can’t even begin to describe the feeling I felt to have finally just made the decision. While I don’t regret any of my time that I spent in England I do regret the worrying and anxiety that I allowed my indecision and fear to cause me.
So after 6 months of traveling I was finally on my way home when all of a sudden I found myself facing fear no one. Head on. While I was in Australia one week before I was due to come home my father passed away. But after years of worry, I was prepared for the worst and I knew exactly how I would react. I would quite clearly fall apart. My world would stop. And my life as I knew it would be forever changed for the worse.
What I wasn’t really prepared for was non of that actually happening. Yes I was heart broken, yes I was sad beyond words that my happy family reunion had turned into a funeral..but I was amazed to discover I was still functioning...and more than anything I felt strong. All of a sudden the only thing that consumed me was speaking at his funeral...the dreaded public speaking fear no 3 wasn’t even allowed to surface. With even the thought of my dads death reducing me to tears in the past I was amazed to find that I could stand up in front of 200 people without crying and talk about my wonderful father.
I have come to realize that my fear wasn’t actually that my dad would die...it was simply that my life would not be the same without him, it was the fear of how utterly lost I "thought" I would feel without having him standing next to my mum cheering me on. More than anything I have come to appreciate this year how all 3 of my fears where simple False Evidence Appearing Real.
This year has in so many ways been one of the best years of my life and I honestly believe it’s been a result of finally having face and confront my fears. For starters I absolutely love being back in South Africa and having family around me again. I could never have believed a couple of years ago how much loosing my father would fill me with such determination to make him proud. I couldn’t have imagined how relieved I would feel not to have to watch him suffer anymore. I would never have dreamed of having the courage to actual start my own business or stand up here and bare my soul to a room full of strangers.
In so many ways I feel blessed because I was literally forced to face my biggest fears...but in life we aren’t always that lucky and more often than not we have to face and overcome them ourselves.
So I suppose the big question is how do we overcome our fears, how ever big or small they may be in our everyday life?
For me there are 3 simple steps that I try to follow:
1. Is to simply start becoming aware of our fears. You can’t defeat your enemy if you don’t know who they are. Don’t judge your fears, don’t try sort them out and don’t allow them to take control of your thoughts. The more energy you put into trying to resolve your fears and the more you beat yourself up for having them in the first place the more overwhelming they will become. Get into the habit of simply asking yourself: what’s really stopping me from moving forward here?
2. Don’t be afraid to get things wrong
Ultimately I believe one of the greatest limitations for most people is the fear of failure. I must admit as petrified as I was to stand up here and talk, I think the only thing that would scare me more would be to step onto a runway surrounded by beautiful girls only to be rated for my performance and looks afterwards. So to all of you young models out there, you do have my utmost respect. But I can imagine that at times some of you might feel completely over whelmed by the fear of not doing well in a competition. I’m sure it can feel soul destroying to feel like you weren’t good enough when someone else is chosen above you. I can only imagine how easy it would be to start comparing yourself to others trying to figure out what it was about them that made them winners, and what was it about you that made you the looser? Was it my height? My hair? My nose? Is she prettier than me? Does she have a better figure than me? It’s only to easy when we fail to start finding fault with ourselves even when such a failure has absolutely nothing to do with us at all. In any competition there are different judges who are looking for different things. It could quite simply be that in that particular competition you just simply didn’t have what they where looking for. Had it been another set of judges or a different competition you might have had exactly what they were looking for.
I’m not a mother but I can only imagine how frightening being a parent can be. You carry this tiny little thing inside you for 9 months, and all of a sudden you are handed the most precious gift in the world. A tiny human being that is totally dependent on you. A little person that you are then responsible for sculpting into a healthy, happy child. As well as dealing with your own fears, you now have all these new fears, for your child as well. Will they be happy? Will they make friends easily? Will they be safe? How can I stop them from making the same mistakes that I made?
During the last couple of weeks I have spoken to loads of my friends who are parents and one of the biggest fears so many of them have is: “Which one of my mistakes are my children going to remember the most.” Mums so desperately want to do everything right by their children, especially their daughters. Daughters more than their sons identify with their mothers and will ideally look to them as role models on how to be confident young women. Of course the only example any mum really wants to set for their daughters is that of a wonderful, loving, patience parent who never says the wrong thing and quite simply never makes a mess of things. But the truth of the matter is motherhood does not come with a manual. What it does come with is hundreds and thousands of books all telling you what to do and what not to do. Of course what most mothers will have discovered is that more often than not what works with one child just simply doesn’t work with another. Every mother is different as is every child so learning how to be a parent means you are going to make mistakes over and over again.
The beauty I think of babies and children is their determination to never give up. Imagine if a 5 month old baby tried to walk for the first time, fell down and then simply refused to ever try again. Or a 6 year old fell off her bike and her parents simply said ok that’s it: You are never going to be able to ride that thing…lets put it away. It’s such a simple analogy but so true. No loving parent would ever say that to their child….in fact what any loving parent would do is continue to encourage their child to keep on trying until they eventually learn to ride perfectly. How wonderful would it be if we could learn to treat ourselves with that much patience and that much love?
For me true empowerment comes from accepting that as women, and as human beings we will inevitable be unsuccessful at many things in our lives, We are going to make mistakes. We are going to fail. What we do with that failure and our thoughts afterwards is the main question? Empowerment comes from accepting that we are not failures just because we don’t achieve the desired results this time. It comes from understanding that just because we didn’t win the competition, or got passed over for a promotion, or weren’t able to save our marriage doesn’t mean we will never be successful at any of those things in the future. It comes from stepping onto that ramp and believing in yourself no matter what the outcome of the competition. Empowerment simply comes from picking yourself up, dusting yourself off and merely asking: What could I do better next time?
3. Embrace the struggle.
Rather naively when I started out studying to be a life coach I had great dreams of my life getting magical easier, of less problems, of less worries and with less ups and downs. I think with out a doubt the greatest lesson that I have learnt these last couple of years is that true happiness does not come from mastering a magic formula for creating a problem free life.
True happiness comes from simply accepting that in life you will always have problems and struggles. It comes from learning to be kind to yourself, accepting that you are doing your best and not allowing your bad days to overrun your good days.
You probably already know the now fairy-tale like story of the writer J. K. Rowling author of Harry Potter.
Seven years after graduating from university, Rowling saw herself as quote: "the biggest failure I knew." Her marriage had failed, she was jobless and on welfare, extremely depressed and raising her daughter by herself. After 12 rejections from different publishing houses, Harry Potter was finally accepted by a small publishing house in London, called Bloomsbury. Although Bloomsbury agreed to publish the book, the editor Cunningham advised Rowling to get a day job, since she had little chance of ever making any money in children's books.
And yet with all this Rowling describes her failure as liberating:
She says:
“Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one area where I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fears had been realized, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter, and a big idea. And so rock bottom became a solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.
You might never fail on the scale I did, but some failure in life is inevitable."
Rowling, through her hard work and determination turned Harry Potter into a global brand worth an estimated 7 billion pounds making her one of the richest author in the world.
I’m going to end with a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson the great 19 century philosopher and poet
” Do the thing you are afraid to do, and the death of fear is certain.”
I don’t believe that we will ever be able to completely banish fear from our lives, nor should we want to. But we can stop it from dictating who we are and what we want to do , We can face it head on shaking in our boots and know that next time it will be a little bit easier. Next time we will do it a little better and one day we will do it right.
Ok so I know its been a while and I kind of thought I had finished with this blog, but during a chat with my wonderful friend Bronnie last night, (the one and only, who is visiting from Australia), she mentioned how sad she was that I never got to finish my blog properly.....and I have to admit I felt the same.
Following that I was all of a sudden overwhelmed with this urge to write and I decided that this particular journey is definitely no where near from finished and that my dad would have wanted me to finish it on a high!
Needless to say its been a pretty eventful year moving back home to South Africa.
A couple of months ago I got asked to speak at Extreme Models Annual Mother and Daughter high tea.
The topic: Empowering women in their daily lives
My first official engagement as a life coach.....Yehaaaaa!!!
Of course it seemed to arrive at the absolute worst possible time when I was struggling more than ever with myself, and my newly made life in South Africa. I had spent the first couple of months home, in a frenzied-empowered high.
My goal: "I must get work, I must make money-Nothing else matters". But as is so often the case: When we work so hard towards achieving our goals, with the simple belief that achieving them will bring us peace and happiness, we are often let down. After more than achieving what I had originally set out to earn by the end of July I was suddenly no longer worrying about being financially stable and my focus suddenly shifted to my severe lack of a social life and friends. I was missing all my old friends incredibly, as the void between my UK life and SA life seemed to be expanding rapidly, on a daily basis. (Let it be known please, that even Midget fell completely off the radar during this time, some lame excuse about holidaying in Thailand? I mean really Midget....you should be absolutely ashamed of yourself. Is it any wonder I nearly fell apart? ;-)
So I was struggling unbelievably to make new friends, and I felt overwhelmingly claustrophobic as a result of having absolutely no one to just go out with. On top of that I was 36 and STILL single. STILL single!!! The Absolute Horror!! can you imagine!!;-) I was pretty sure that, somewhere out there in PE, there did infact exist some more single people (maybe even some my age?) ....but I was at a loss as to how I was EVER going to meet any of them if I had NO one to go out with!! So needless to say it was at this point that I felt totally and utterly 'un-inspired' and wholly 'dis-empowered'(if there is such a word?)
My initial reaction on reading the email requesting me to speak was to actually laugh out loud: "You have got to be kidding God? Now of all times? You couldn't have sent this two months ago when I was at my best? This is a joke right?"
I think its incredible how certain things come to you at just the right time. A couple of days after I had arrived home, in December, I randomly picked up an article about facing your fears and simply getting into the habit of doing things: no matter how terrified you might feel. I have read countless such articles through the years... but for some reason this one just stuck with me and has turned out to be my ultimate maxim this year: "If it scares the hell out of you Gayle....just do it!" It was what gave me the courage to set up my own tutoring business and the guts to finally start selling myself, it even gave me the strength to get through an incredible 10 day Vispassna Course in June.... (10 days of no speaking or communicating and 11 hours a day of desperately trying to sit still and meditate - possible the hardest thing I have ever had to do but undoubtedly one of the greatest and most empowering experiences I have ever had.)
Needless to say my maxim has served me well.
So faced with another mind numbing fear I said yes and started writing. Low and behold it seemed to be the perfect cure for pulling me out of my self induced pity-party slump.
Instead of focusing on what I didn't have, friends to go out with, I began focusing on the new friends I had made since being home. I began to appreciate their love and support and just found myself grateful for time that I was able to spend with them and their families. I began to realize how amazing it was to finally have one of my oldest and dearest friends, Kelly, back in my life - in full force, even if it was only on the phone. I was thankful to finally be able to spend time with my mother, who absolutely loves and adores me and for the chance to reconnect with my other family members. I was overwhelmed with gratitude to be home, at last, and found myself armed with a new measure of faith and awareness that everything I need comes to me and that some things, like building a new life and making new friends you just dont want to rush.....
(For those of you that are interested I have included a copy of my speech....Midget, you on the other hand might just want to skip this and go to the next blog....were I do believe you will have a minor supporting role!;-)
Conquering our fears.
First of all I would like to start by saying a very big thank you to all of you for having me here to speak to day. I am very honored to be here.
This is actually my first public talk as a life coach so please forgive me if I seem really nervous.
Before I start I'd like to just tell you briefly about myself. I am a PE girl born and bred but I have been living and teaching in London for the last 12 years. During that time while I was desperately unfulfilled as a teacher I happened to stumble across life coaching. I have to admit that at a time when I was very unhappy with the direction my life had taken…..life coaching seemed incredibly attractive. I couldn’t help but think If I learn't how to help other people to live more balanced, happy, fulfilling lives then just maybe I could start teaching myself?
Over the next three years I was challenged to really start thinking honestly about who I was and what it was I wanted from my life. It was also during this time that I noticed a total shift in my teaching. I was hit by the powerful realization of how I had spent so much of my life comparing and judging myself against other people, especially against other teachers. I had been my own worst critic and it had been utterly exhausting. For the first time I began to appreciate and embrace my own unique gifts as a teacher, and I actually started to enjoy teaching. Ironically what I thought was going to be my ultimate escape from the teaching world was anything but. After qualifying as a life coach practitioner I eventually moved back to PE in December last year and ended up starting my own tutoring business…with a little life coaching on the side...which I’m now absolutely loving.
When Veruska emailed me and asked me to come and speak to you my initial feelings were: Absolute Sheer Panic and overwhelming self doubt! The good thing about me now, compared to a couple of years ago is that I now realize that these emotions are not unique to me and that almost everyone feels them at some point in their lives. How we handle these emotions is what makes the difference between us simply living our lives and us truly enjoying our lives.
So I hope you don’t mind but after spending a good couple of days trying to figure out what exactly it was that I was going to speak to you about I eventually decided to focus on the one thing that has been incredibly significant to me in my life, and that prevents so many of us from being the incredible women that we truly are. Conquering our fears.
There isn’t a single person in this world that isn’t faced with one fear or another every single day... the fear of failure, the fear of rejection, the fear of being alone, the fear of change...the fear of not being good enough...the list is endless. As completely normal as it is for us as humans to feel fear, fear can, if we allow it, become our greatest enemy.
Fear causes anxiety, stress and worry about what might happen in our future...and yet that being said about 90% of what we do worry about never actually happens. That means most of our fears and negative worries only have about a 10% chance of being correct or coming true! I think one of the best acronyms I have heard that sums up what the true meaning of fear is False, Evidence, Appearing, Real.
Dr Joseph Murphey author of a wonderful book called the power of your subconscious mind explains this beautifully with this example:
"A small child can be paralyzed with fear when a playmate says that there is a monster underneath his bed who will grab him in the middle of the night. But when the child's parent turns on the light and shows the child that there is no monster he is freed from his fear. The fear in the mind of the child was every bit as real as if there was a monster there. But the thing he feared did not exist, in the same way that most of our fears have no reality. Fear is simply a negative thought in our mind that we give our power away to."
I honestly feel like this year has been my year for facing my fears. If you had of asked me this time last year what my 3 worst fears where they would have been
1. Loosing my dad
2. Moving back to South Africa
3. And public speaking.
Number one and two on my list where all consuming and played against each other beautifully……My dad has not been well for a good couple of years now and the fear of loosing him could at times be absolutely overwhelming. I usually came home for Christmas and saying goodbye at that airport was always heart breaking...I continually worried whether that would be the last time I saw my father. In fact I more than worried, being a real daddies girl, I adored my father and I obsessed about how miserable I would be without him in my life. But as much as I allowed that fear to keep me busy, my fear of actually moving back to South Africa seemed more than able at keeping me rooted in London. As much as I hated the weather there I was more petrified of the crime here. As frustrated as I was teaching in the school that I was at, I was more daunted by the thought of having to live off a teachers salary in South Africa. I was petrified of having to start my life over here and remake a whole new circle of friend...when I was more than happy with the ones I already had. As with most fears, I had excuses for everything but I wasn’t happy. I knew I wanted to come home but I just couldn’t make that decision and I felt completely debilitated.
Finally after seeing how much my dads health had deteriorated when I came home for Christmas 2009 Fear no 1, finally defeated fear number 2 and I made plans to come home. I can’t even begin to describe the feeling I felt to have finally just made the decision. While I don’t regret any of my time that I spent in England I do regret the worrying and anxiety that I allowed my indecision and fear to cause me.
So after 6 months of traveling I was finally on my way home when all of a sudden I found myself facing fear no one. Head on. While I was in Australia one week before I was due to come home my father passed away. But after years of worry, I was prepared for the worst and I knew exactly how I would react. I would quite clearly fall apart. My world would stop. And my life as I knew it would be forever changed for the worse.
What I wasn’t really prepared for was non of that actually happening. Yes I was heart broken, yes I was sad beyond words that my happy family reunion had turned into a funeral..but I was amazed to discover I was still functioning...and more than anything I felt strong. All of a sudden the only thing that consumed me was speaking at his funeral...the dreaded public speaking fear no 3 wasn’t even allowed to surface. With even the thought of my dads death reducing me to tears in the past I was amazed to find that I could stand up in front of 200 people without crying and talk about my wonderful father.
I have come to realize that my fear wasn’t actually that my dad would die...it was simply that my life would not be the same without him, it was the fear of how utterly lost I "thought" I would feel without having him standing next to my mum cheering me on. More than anything I have come to appreciate this year how all 3 of my fears where simple False Evidence Appearing Real.
This year has in so many ways been one of the best years of my life and I honestly believe it’s been a result of finally having face and confront my fears. For starters I absolutely love being back in South Africa and having family around me again. I could never have believed a couple of years ago how much loosing my father would fill me with such determination to make him proud. I couldn’t have imagined how relieved I would feel not to have to watch him suffer anymore. I would never have dreamed of having the courage to actual start my own business or stand up here and bare my soul to a room full of strangers.
In so many ways I feel blessed because I was literally forced to face my biggest fears...but in life we aren’t always that lucky and more often than not we have to face and overcome them ourselves.
So I suppose the big question is how do we overcome our fears, how ever big or small they may be in our everyday life?
For me there are 3 simple steps that I try to follow:
1. Is to simply start becoming aware of our fears. You can’t defeat your enemy if you don’t know who they are. Don’t judge your fears, don’t try sort them out and don’t allow them to take control of your thoughts. The more energy you put into trying to resolve your fears and the more you beat yourself up for having them in the first place the more overwhelming they will become. Get into the habit of simply asking yourself: what’s really stopping me from moving forward here?
2. Don’t be afraid to get things wrong
Ultimately I believe one of the greatest limitations for most people is the fear of failure. I must admit as petrified as I was to stand up here and talk, I think the only thing that would scare me more would be to step onto a runway surrounded by beautiful girls only to be rated for my performance and looks afterwards. So to all of you young models out there, you do have my utmost respect. But I can imagine that at times some of you might feel completely over whelmed by the fear of not doing well in a competition. I’m sure it can feel soul destroying to feel like you weren’t good enough when someone else is chosen above you. I can only imagine how easy it would be to start comparing yourself to others trying to figure out what it was about them that made them winners, and what was it about you that made you the looser? Was it my height? My hair? My nose? Is she prettier than me? Does she have a better figure than me? It’s only to easy when we fail to start finding fault with ourselves even when such a failure has absolutely nothing to do with us at all. In any competition there are different judges who are looking for different things. It could quite simply be that in that particular competition you just simply didn’t have what they where looking for. Had it been another set of judges or a different competition you might have had exactly what they were looking for.
I’m not a mother but I can only imagine how frightening being a parent can be. You carry this tiny little thing inside you for 9 months, and all of a sudden you are handed the most precious gift in the world. A tiny human being that is totally dependent on you. A little person that you are then responsible for sculpting into a healthy, happy child. As well as dealing with your own fears, you now have all these new fears, for your child as well. Will they be happy? Will they make friends easily? Will they be safe? How can I stop them from making the same mistakes that I made?
During the last couple of weeks I have spoken to loads of my friends who are parents and one of the biggest fears so many of them have is: “Which one of my mistakes are my children going to remember the most.” Mums so desperately want to do everything right by their children, especially their daughters. Daughters more than their sons identify with their mothers and will ideally look to them as role models on how to be confident young women. Of course the only example any mum really wants to set for their daughters is that of a wonderful, loving, patience parent who never says the wrong thing and quite simply never makes a mess of things. But the truth of the matter is motherhood does not come with a manual. What it does come with is hundreds and thousands of books all telling you what to do and what not to do. Of course what most mothers will have discovered is that more often than not what works with one child just simply doesn’t work with another. Every mother is different as is every child so learning how to be a parent means you are going to make mistakes over and over again.
The beauty I think of babies and children is their determination to never give up. Imagine if a 5 month old baby tried to walk for the first time, fell down and then simply refused to ever try again. Or a 6 year old fell off her bike and her parents simply said ok that’s it: You are never going to be able to ride that thing…lets put it away. It’s such a simple analogy but so true. No loving parent would ever say that to their child….in fact what any loving parent would do is continue to encourage their child to keep on trying until they eventually learn to ride perfectly. How wonderful would it be if we could learn to treat ourselves with that much patience and that much love?
For me true empowerment comes from accepting that as women, and as human beings we will inevitable be unsuccessful at many things in our lives, We are going to make mistakes. We are going to fail. What we do with that failure and our thoughts afterwards is the main question? Empowerment comes from accepting that we are not failures just because we don’t achieve the desired results this time. It comes from understanding that just because we didn’t win the competition, or got passed over for a promotion, or weren’t able to save our marriage doesn’t mean we will never be successful at any of those things in the future. It comes from stepping onto that ramp and believing in yourself no matter what the outcome of the competition. Empowerment simply comes from picking yourself up, dusting yourself off and merely asking: What could I do better next time?
3. Embrace the struggle.
Rather naively when I started out studying to be a life coach I had great dreams of my life getting magical easier, of less problems, of less worries and with less ups and downs. I think with out a doubt the greatest lesson that I have learnt these last couple of years is that true happiness does not come from mastering a magic formula for creating a problem free life.
True happiness comes from simply accepting that in life you will always have problems and struggles. It comes from learning to be kind to yourself, accepting that you are doing your best and not allowing your bad days to overrun your good days.
You probably already know the now fairy-tale like story of the writer J. K. Rowling author of Harry Potter.
Seven years after graduating from university, Rowling saw herself as quote: "the biggest failure I knew." Her marriage had failed, she was jobless and on welfare, extremely depressed and raising her daughter by herself. After 12 rejections from different publishing houses, Harry Potter was finally accepted by a small publishing house in London, called Bloomsbury. Although Bloomsbury agreed to publish the book, the editor Cunningham advised Rowling to get a day job, since she had little chance of ever making any money in children's books.
And yet with all this Rowling describes her failure as liberating:
She says:
“Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one area where I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fears had been realized, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter, and a big idea. And so rock bottom became a solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.
You might never fail on the scale I did, but some failure in life is inevitable."
Rowling, through her hard work and determination turned Harry Potter into a global brand worth an estimated 7 billion pounds making her one of the richest author in the world.
I’m going to end with a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson the great 19 century philosopher and poet
” Do the thing you are afraid to do, and the death of fear is certain.”
I don’t believe that we will ever be able to completely banish fear from our lives, nor should we want to. But we can stop it from dictating who we are and what we want to do , We can face it head on shaking in our boots and know that next time it will be a little bit easier. Next time we will do it a little better and one day we will do it right.
Saturday, 11 December 2010
To dad; with Love
Hello all
I have to admit that this wasn't exactly how I planned on writing my final blog. But at this point in time all else seems to pale in significance. Yesterday my wonderful, loving father passed away. I'm at the airport in Perth waiting for my flight home...although to be honest I cant imagine home without my dad.
I know most of my London friends never had the pleasure of meeting him so this blog is dedicated to telling you why I truly had the best dad in the world!
To say that I am a daddy's girl would be an understatement......I absolutely adored my father, for the pure and simple reason that he absolutely adored me. (Lloyd, Bruce I know you have been living in denial, but lets face facts you know I have always been his favorite!) My earliest memory of dad is of him coming home from work to our Sundridge house, picking me up, giving me the biggest hug and then letting me sit on his black brief case...I'm not to sure what it was that I loved about that case but I simply had to sit on it. A couple of years ago my dad read out an old preschool report that he had found, it went something along these lines: "Gayle is a lovely, kind child who enjoys organizing all the other children while playing. ( That's teacher code for your child is mildly bossy). She is however very proud of her daddy and enjoys telling everyone stories about him."
As we all most probably know teenagers are never easy, and I particularly had my ways. I can't count the number of times I would walk up to my father who was chatting with his friends/ family or complete strangers only to have him throw his arms around me in a massive bear hug and bellow: Isn't my daughter that most beautiful girl in the world?" Usually met with embarrassed smiles all around.....I was consistently mortified and would berate him furiously for it whenever we got home.
Once while saying good bye to me at a Bloemof camp, surrounded by all my friends...and the boy I had a massive crush on he instinctively did it again. Absolutely furious I delivered him with the look of death, and his face suddenly fell, horrified as he realized how embarrassed I was and that he had indeed done it again. It was however at this point that it suddenly dawned on me that my dad was incapable of not declaring his love for me. How lucky and blessed was I to have someone who loved me that much. Needless to say I never complained again after that.
Of course having a dad as loving as mine meant that I had to learn to share him with all my friends, he had this wonderful way of making them all feel loved....especially those who had already lost their own fathers. Kelly and Michelle it was great having you as substitute sisters.
My father of course had an amazing sense of humor..... and a great laugh.....I have so many memories of him regaling stories to his friends and laughing that loud, ever infectious, if not mildly raucous laugh. Anybody who knew him, knew that there was nothing subtle about Roland Hills laugh. As children, my brothers and I loved nothing more than putting Anna and dad in front of an old Laurel and Hardy movie....just to hear them both laugh, together!
I guess its kind of fitting that I end this blog with him.....because as far as my writing goes he has always been my number 1 fan. He has been on at me for years to write a book...although unfortunately he never got round to actually telling me what it is that I should be writing about....maybe that will come to me one day. I started this blog with him in mind......he wanted me published so in a small way this was my first mini- step.
I am obviously heartbroken that I wont be able to to talk to him about my travels in person, but one thing I do know is that he wanted me to do it and that he is proud of me. He was proud of all his children....his belief in us and our abilities never faulted.
There is nothing dad wouldn't have done for us. When I was 15 I started working at Edward Hotel every weekend. By the time we usually finished packing up it was 2-3 in the morning...a phone call home and my dad would be there to pick me up. (Wearing his PJ's, sandals and socks... I might add) It amazes me that he never ever complained....he never asked for a weekend off...he just turned up.
As amazing as my wonderful father was it pains me to have to admit he was not perfect. As loving, kind, and caring as he was , and as much as he loved my mum the darling man was just not particularly romantic.....as I got older and realized this imperfection I tried desperately, many times to reform it. Calls before mums Birthday or Valentines to inquire what he was doing for her, had he bought her a present, flowers, a card, anything? One Valentines I had made him promise me that he would take mum out for dinner. On the follow up phone call he assured me that he had and indeed taken mum out for dinner. Thrilled that he was learning I then spoke to mum and asked where he had taken her.
Mum seemingly confused asked dad when this so called dinner had been. "Last Friday came the reply"
Packing out laughing my mother said "Darling....your father took me to a fete and bought me a hot dog"
"I paid R10 for that hot dog!" came my dads reply in the background!
That was my dad....not very romantic but always able to make my mum laugh.
At this point I would like to just say a small something to my wonderful mother. Thank you....thank you from the bottom of my heart. Dad has not been well for a good couple of years now and without your love and care I doubt we would have had him for so long. We realize it hasn't always been easy as his dislike for doctors and hospitals was intense. Lets face it he could be a stubborn man, but you were also a stubborn woman and as a result of your continued persistence dad got to see one of his sons get married, he got to meet his first grandchild and we all had the pleasure of a few more happy memories with our father. I love you and am so happy that I am home to be with you now during this transitional period.
They say that loosing a parent is one of the worst things you can go through....and for the past 5 years I have lived in absolute fear and dread of this day. Now that it has actually happen I have come to realize that watching someone you love in pain and suffering is far worse. Watching them fade away and be unable to do the simple things in life that we so take for granted, like eating or drinking the food they enjoy or having to give up the things that they are most passionate about is truly more heart breaking.
So we are all at peace now dad and comforted by the fact that you are no longer suffering.....thank you for your unconditional love, thanks for your patience, and for being such an amazing role model to us all. We couldn't have asked for a better father. I know right now you are in heaven enjoying a brandy and coke, eating cashew nuts to your hearts content and teaching Uncle Michael how to play golf!
Saturday, 20 November 2010
Watch out Midgit........
Hello all,
Once again I feel the need to apologize for being out of touch for sooooo long....but it seems that my body is determined to give me hell on this trip and have been sick quite a bit again. Ironically enough when you are sick you have all the time in the world to email....but not a bloody single thing you feel like emailing about.
My flight to Bali was hell....runny nose, cough, high temperature and a 5 hour wait in Malaysia ....I was definitely not at my best. There is nothing like trying to kill time while you feel like your body is trying to kill you. Of course at this point I, myself, knew that it was ALL my own fault.....it shames me to admit it, but on our Halloween night out in Vietnam my near celebrity status caused me to stumble, and I smoked 2 cigarettes. Success got to my head..... I would like to blame "Brut" my personal body guard but unfortunately I'm going to have to take FULL responsibility for that one.
3.5 months smoke free. I am ashamed...and then I was punished by my own body!
What is it about airports that make them want to put the air conditioning up so bloody high all the time. I couldn't even bare to sit next to my gate because I was so cold and decided to go and find some huddle of warmth somewhere. (It ended up being Dunkin Donuts) An hour before my departure I headed back down to wait for the boarding. I sat there for a while staring at the "boarding now sign"...wondering why it was, no one was actually boarding the plane. Eventually decided to ask if I could board, and got met with icy cold, death stare from unfriendly, evil man who informed me that my flight was already closed for boarding. My luggage apparently had already been taken off the plane and they had called me 3 times over the intercom. Seems that I had missed the fact that there was a time change between Cambodia and Malaysia. I of course did what any mature, sick and miserable Gayle
could do...burst into tears and started begging and pleading with the unsympathetic, ice man to please put me on the plane, and that I was very, very sorry!
Very pathetic......needless to say he didn't really care and informed me that they were not stopping the plane (Not even for me) and that the next flight left in an hour. And yes, I would have to re buy my ticket. He must have took some pity on the sniveling wreck in front of him because he told me the ticket would cost $60 but then only charged me $40. I could hardly complain. My newly bought ticket was however bright blue which was a clear indication to all the staff that looked at it from that point on ....that yes..."This is the girl who delayed the last plane."
Hell was not over yet as I still had to make the 5 hour flight on the cheapest airline in the world that doesn't believe in providing blankets for their customers (unless of course you want to buy one for $11- Who in their right mind would EVER want to buy an airline blanket?) and also loves having the air conditioning on full blast. And so past the 5 coldest hours of my life.
I suppose it goes without saying that once I arrived in Bali my luggage was lost. Was assured by nice, friendly, airline man they would bring my bags to my hotel the next day. I didn't care....I wanted to sleep. Arriving in Kuta Bali (The most touristy part of Bali) at 11.30 pm I found the cheapest, and probably dirtiest hotel I could, just so excited about the prospect of warmth and sleep. I thought it would probably be a good idea to quickly go get some water, seen as I had hardly drunk anything the whole day. As luck would have it I got caught in a torrential downpour on my way back to my room. It wouldn't have been so bad had I actually been able to find my room....but the hotel was like a maze......so I ended up spending about 10 minutes walking around, and around, and round.....in the rain....first trying to find my room and then trying to find the front desk.......I found neither.
Eventually found the hotels Internet cafe and asked him to please call the front desk.
By the time I got back to my room, absolutely drenched, I was delighted to find, no hot water, no towels and no dry clothes to charge into. Was not a happy camper to say the least!
I spent one day in Kuta Bali and had to get out. To say I absolutely hated it would be an understatement.......it was just soooo touristy and seemed to be filled with hundreds of surfers of the non smiling variety. (or maybe that was just me? I wasn't my best)
I decided to go to one of the Gili Islands, Gili Trawangan as I had heard great things about it and it was small. And this is pretty much where I spent my next 10days ....
I ended up sharing a room with a very sweet french girl I met on the boat for my first 3 nights there. Our first night out it became very clear to me that not only can I no longer smoke anymore but now I cant even be within 10metre of any one smoking. As a result of my night out I ended up with a really bad chest infection...and then spent the next 5 days on more antibiotics...and in hiding, from the evil smoke. Its true, I have turned into a human smoke detector.....and apparently every man and his dog smokes in Gili....
So on my last night on the island finally feeling healthy and more myself I met up with an Aussie guy who was basically doing the exact same trip as me the next day...i.e he was going back to Kuta Bali, flying to Singapore on the same flight as me then waiting for 6 hours before his next connecting flight.
He only arrived quite late in the evening, said he hadn't been drinking much and seemed like a pretty decent guy so we agreed to do the last leg of Indonesia together. I needless to say was very relieved that I wouldn't have to go back to Kuta Bali alone. We had different boats booked back to Bali so we agreed to meet up in Kuta.
MMMM...what can I say about meeting this man the next day? Never in my entire life have I EVER met anyone so serious and with such an aversion to smiling. I couldn't even believe it was the same person from the night before. But never fear I had more important things to worry about as it seemed that my fever was suddenly back with avengence! It felt like every single bone in my body was aching, even my little pinky fingers and little toes were in pain)
I sure as hell didn't feel like smiling.... so my new found travel companion and I were perfect together. We went out to get something to eat that night with a guy he had met on the boat. They had a "all you can drink for $10 beer special"...and I watched in amazement as he knocked back about a pint every 10 minutes. Needless to say after pint no 4/5 he began to relax and smile a bit.....which sincerely made me doubt his claim of "not drinking much" the night before
Anyway I felt awful so took myself home straight after dinner and left "Happy" and his friend to do the partying!.
At about 2am "Happy" comes home passes out and starts snoring louder than a bloody freight train. I tried to wake him but he was out cold. What to do? I tried sleeping on the bathroom floor but the sound echoed through the walls....so eventually ended up sleeping out side on the deck chairs by the pool, till 5am when we had to get up for our taxi. I was not happy.
And then it seemed like I was stuck in the most awful 'deja vu' ever.
Airport, freezing cold air conditioning, fever, body ache.....6 hour wait for connecting flight in Singapore. In fairness to "Happy" he didn't just leave me in the airport like I told him to and he seemed to not mind having me around even though I was the most miserable person ever.....so for that I am very grateful....I think having to do it all by myself again would have been even worse.
We did end up taking a taxi into Singapore just to have a look around...although I slept through the taxi ride and then passed out in a restaurant while he went and did some exploring. So all in all I saw Zilch of Singapore. Although Midgit has assured me it is lovely!
Boarding my flight to Australia I was pretty much dreading it......but it seems that God had taken pity on me as I ended up sitting in Business class with plenty of leg room AND free blankets.....I was in heaven. Small miracles!
Arriving in Cairnes I still felt awful and decided that It would probably be a good idea to let a Western doctor have a good look at me once and for all...even though it was going to cost me $60. He kinda muttered something about ' pneumonia' and suggested that I go to the hospital to have some IV fluids. At the hospital I ended up seeing another doctor who said that he didn't think the drip would make much difference and that it would just cost me more money. He said it was probably something 'viral' that I picked up and that all I had to do was go home and just drink lots of water.
And so I left and on my way out I was handed my hospital bill............$550. (350 pounds) For him to give me a 5 minute examination and to tell me to drink water ??? I only had $900 for my entire month in Australia...and they wanted $550 of it? Over my dead body!
They called a guy to come and speak to me....and he agreed with me that I should have actually been told the price before the consultation....
I then took myself home and spent the next 5 days drinking water and spewing over what I should do about this bill. They had let me leave without paying it.....
I eventually, after speaking to loads of different locals, decided to just leave it. My fear of Karma was greatly over thrown by my fear of having absolutely no money left for Australia!
And that brings me to the end of my first week in Australia.....Cairns is absolutely beautiful.....and if you are going to be down and out somewhere then this is the place to do it. My hostel was right on the beach front which was an added bonus.
My second week in cairns and I was determined to make up for lost time....Monday and Tuesday I booked tours to some rain forests and waterfalls. Yesterday I had a snorkeling drip planned.....but I woke up feeling completely nausea's. I lay there trying to decided what to do....I knew my body was just exhausted from the last 2 day trips and I just needed to rest for a day....BUT it was the GREAT Barrier reef! How could I NOT see the great Barrier reef? (And I was flying to Melbourne that evening...so this was my last chance!)So I dragged myself to the boat. Was greeted by gorgeous, green eyed dive instructor, who immediately asked if I was ok. He suggested I take some see sickness tablets as the water was going to be very rough that day, which I did. Rest assured we were all given a detailed description on the "use of the sick bags."
I'd be dammed if I was going to puke in public, in a brown paper bag. So I sat there for about 40 minutes feeling awful.....just wishing it all to be over! Cute instructor kept coming and asking me if I wanted to move to the back of the boat as I would feel better there! Eventually I decided to move only to discover that he lied....the back of the boat was full of all the sick people throwing up into those blasted little bags. It made my job of hanging onto my breakfast that much harder. But I was determined....ESPECIALLY not with cute instructor standing there. ..after about and 1h40 minutes I called cute instructor over to ask him how much longer........he said 10 minutes and then we started chatting about other stuff.....about 3 minutes into the conversation I was over thrown by the need to throw up. Had to actually push him a way to do it. Way to go Gayle.....nothing like throwing up when you are chatting to lovely man!
So yes. its true....I threw up in one of those little brown sick bags. And then had to hand it to him to throw away for me. Charming!
But that been said.....it was worth it. The Reef was absolutely beautiful. Dad I thought of you and wished I had a water camera to take photo's for you....you would have loved it!
And that brings me up to the end of my 2 weeks in Cairns.
I would be lying if I didn't admit that I have been really upset by how much of this holiday I have spent 'recovering' from one thing or another. You take it for granted how lucky you are to have a healthy/able body that pretty much does everything you want it to. The worst I think is the complete apathy I feel for days after being sick....just no energy and no desire to do anything. I know its also got a lot to do with the fact that I haven't been eating healthy, nutritional meals....so I am really starting to look forward to coming home and kicking this thing once and for all.
Anyway that's my news....not the most informative travel blog yet...but its the best I have for now.
Love to you all.
x
Once again I feel the need to apologize for being out of touch for sooooo long....but it seems that my body is determined to give me hell on this trip and have been sick quite a bit again. Ironically enough when you are sick you have all the time in the world to email....but not a bloody single thing you feel like emailing about.
My flight to Bali was hell....runny nose, cough, high temperature and a 5 hour wait in Malaysia ....I was definitely not at my best. There is nothing like trying to kill time while you feel like your body is trying to kill you. Of course at this point I, myself, knew that it was ALL my own fault.....it shames me to admit it, but on our Halloween night out in Vietnam my near celebrity status caused me to stumble, and I smoked 2 cigarettes. Success got to my head..... I would like to blame "Brut" my personal body guard but unfortunately I'm going to have to take FULL responsibility for that one.
3.5 months smoke free. I am ashamed...and then I was punished by my own body!
What is it about airports that make them want to put the air conditioning up so bloody high all the time. I couldn't even bare to sit next to my gate because I was so cold and decided to go and find some huddle of warmth somewhere. (It ended up being Dunkin Donuts) An hour before my departure I headed back down to wait for the boarding. I sat there for a while staring at the "boarding now sign"...wondering why it was, no one was actually boarding the plane. Eventually decided to ask if I could board, and got met with icy cold, death stare from unfriendly, evil man who informed me that my flight was already closed for boarding. My luggage apparently had already been taken off the plane and they had called me 3 times over the intercom. Seems that I had missed the fact that there was a time change between Cambodia and Malaysia. I of course did what any mature, sick and miserable Gayle
could do...burst into tears and started begging and pleading with the unsympathetic, ice man to please put me on the plane, and that I was very, very sorry!
Very pathetic......needless to say he didn't really care and informed me that they were not stopping the plane (Not even for me) and that the next flight left in an hour. And yes, I would have to re buy my ticket. He must have took some pity on the sniveling wreck in front of him because he told me the ticket would cost $60 but then only charged me $40. I could hardly complain. My newly bought ticket was however bright blue which was a clear indication to all the staff that looked at it from that point on ....that yes..."This is the girl who delayed the last plane."
Hell was not over yet as I still had to make the 5 hour flight on the cheapest airline in the world that doesn't believe in providing blankets for their customers (unless of course you want to buy one for $11- Who in their right mind would EVER want to buy an airline blanket?) and also loves having the air conditioning on full blast. And so past the 5 coldest hours of my life.
I suppose it goes without saying that once I arrived in Bali my luggage was lost. Was assured by nice, friendly, airline man they would bring my bags to my hotel the next day. I didn't care....I wanted to sleep. Arriving in Kuta Bali (The most touristy part of Bali) at 11.30 pm I found the cheapest, and probably dirtiest hotel I could, just so excited about the prospect of warmth and sleep. I thought it would probably be a good idea to quickly go get some water, seen as I had hardly drunk anything the whole day. As luck would have it I got caught in a torrential downpour on my way back to my room. It wouldn't have been so bad had I actually been able to find my room....but the hotel was like a maze......so I ended up spending about 10 minutes walking around, and around, and round.....in the rain....first trying to find my room and then trying to find the front desk.......I found neither.
Eventually found the hotels Internet cafe and asked him to please call the front desk.
By the time I got back to my room, absolutely drenched, I was delighted to find, no hot water, no towels and no dry clothes to charge into. Was not a happy camper to say the least!
I spent one day in Kuta Bali and had to get out. To say I absolutely hated it would be an understatement.......it was just soooo touristy and seemed to be filled with hundreds of surfers of the non smiling variety. (or maybe that was just me? I wasn't my best)
I decided to go to one of the Gili Islands, Gili Trawangan as I had heard great things about it and it was small. And this is pretty much where I spent my next 10days ....
I ended up sharing a room with a very sweet french girl I met on the boat for my first 3 nights there. Our first night out it became very clear to me that not only can I no longer smoke anymore but now I cant even be within 10metre of any one smoking. As a result of my night out I ended up with a really bad chest infection...and then spent the next 5 days on more antibiotics...and in hiding, from the evil smoke. Its true, I have turned into a human smoke detector.....and apparently every man and his dog smokes in Gili....
So on my last night on the island finally feeling healthy and more myself I met up with an Aussie guy who was basically doing the exact same trip as me the next day...i.e he was going back to Kuta Bali, flying to Singapore on the same flight as me then waiting for 6 hours before his next connecting flight.
He only arrived quite late in the evening, said he hadn't been drinking much and seemed like a pretty decent guy so we agreed to do the last leg of Indonesia together. I needless to say was very relieved that I wouldn't have to go back to Kuta Bali alone. We had different boats booked back to Bali so we agreed to meet up in Kuta.
MMMM...what can I say about meeting this man the next day? Never in my entire life have I EVER met anyone so serious and with such an aversion to smiling. I couldn't even believe it was the same person from the night before. But never fear I had more important things to worry about as it seemed that my fever was suddenly back with avengence! It felt like every single bone in my body was aching, even my little pinky fingers and little toes were in pain)
I sure as hell didn't feel like smiling.... so my new found travel companion and I were perfect together. We went out to get something to eat that night with a guy he had met on the boat. They had a "all you can drink for $10 beer special"...and I watched in amazement as he knocked back about a pint every 10 minutes. Needless to say after pint no 4/5 he began to relax and smile a bit.....which sincerely made me doubt his claim of "not drinking much" the night before
Anyway I felt awful so took myself home straight after dinner and left "Happy" and his friend to do the partying!.
At about 2am "Happy" comes home passes out and starts snoring louder than a bloody freight train. I tried to wake him but he was out cold. What to do? I tried sleeping on the bathroom floor but the sound echoed through the walls....so eventually ended up sleeping out side on the deck chairs by the pool, till 5am when we had to get up for our taxi. I was not happy.
And then it seemed like I was stuck in the most awful 'deja vu' ever.
Airport, freezing cold air conditioning, fever, body ache.....6 hour wait for connecting flight in Singapore. In fairness to "Happy" he didn't just leave me in the airport like I told him to and he seemed to not mind having me around even though I was the most miserable person ever.....so for that I am very grateful....I think having to do it all by myself again would have been even worse.
We did end up taking a taxi into Singapore just to have a look around...although I slept through the taxi ride and then passed out in a restaurant while he went and did some exploring. So all in all I saw Zilch of Singapore. Although Midgit has assured me it is lovely!
Boarding my flight to Australia I was pretty much dreading it......but it seems that God had taken pity on me as I ended up sitting in Business class with plenty of leg room AND free blankets.....I was in heaven. Small miracles!
Arriving in Cairnes I still felt awful and decided that It would probably be a good idea to let a Western doctor have a good look at me once and for all...even though it was going to cost me $60. He kinda muttered something about ' pneumonia' and suggested that I go to the hospital to have some IV fluids. At the hospital I ended up seeing another doctor who said that he didn't think the drip would make much difference and that it would just cost me more money. He said it was probably something 'viral' that I picked up and that all I had to do was go home and just drink lots of water.
And so I left and on my way out I was handed my hospital bill............$550. (350 pounds) For him to give me a 5 minute examination and to tell me to drink water ??? I only had $900 for my entire month in Australia...and they wanted $550 of it? Over my dead body!
They called a guy to come and speak to me....and he agreed with me that I should have actually been told the price before the consultation....
I then took myself home and spent the next 5 days drinking water and spewing over what I should do about this bill. They had let me leave without paying it.....
I eventually, after speaking to loads of different locals, decided to just leave it. My fear of Karma was greatly over thrown by my fear of having absolutely no money left for Australia!
And that brings me to the end of my first week in Australia.....Cairns is absolutely beautiful.....and if you are going to be down and out somewhere then this is the place to do it. My hostel was right on the beach front which was an added bonus.
My second week in cairns and I was determined to make up for lost time....Monday and Tuesday I booked tours to some rain forests and waterfalls. Yesterday I had a snorkeling drip planned.....but I woke up feeling completely nausea's. I lay there trying to decided what to do....I knew my body was just exhausted from the last 2 day trips and I just needed to rest for a day....BUT it was the GREAT Barrier reef! How could I NOT see the great Barrier reef? (And I was flying to Melbourne that evening...so this was my last chance!)So I dragged myself to the boat. Was greeted by gorgeous, green eyed dive instructor, who immediately asked if I was ok. He suggested I take some see sickness tablets as the water was going to be very rough that day, which I did. Rest assured we were all given a detailed description on the "use of the sick bags."
I'd be dammed if I was going to puke in public, in a brown paper bag. So I sat there for about 40 minutes feeling awful.....just wishing it all to be over! Cute instructor kept coming and asking me if I wanted to move to the back of the boat as I would feel better there! Eventually I decided to move only to discover that he lied....the back of the boat was full of all the sick people throwing up into those blasted little bags. It made my job of hanging onto my breakfast that much harder. But I was determined....ESPECIALLY not with cute instructor standing there. ..after about and 1h40 minutes I called cute instructor over to ask him how much longer........he said 10 minutes and then we started chatting about other stuff.....about 3 minutes into the conversation I was over thrown by the need to throw up. Had to actually push him a way to do it. Way to go Gayle.....nothing like throwing up when you are chatting to lovely man!
So yes. its true....I threw up in one of those little brown sick bags. And then had to hand it to him to throw away for me. Charming!
But that been said.....it was worth it. The Reef was absolutely beautiful. Dad I thought of you and wished I had a water camera to take photo's for you....you would have loved it!
And that brings me up to the end of my 2 weeks in Cairns.
I would be lying if I didn't admit that I have been really upset by how much of this holiday I have spent 'recovering' from one thing or another. You take it for granted how lucky you are to have a healthy/able body that pretty much does everything you want it to. The worst I think is the complete apathy I feel for days after being sick....just no energy and no desire to do anything. I know its also got a lot to do with the fact that I haven't been eating healthy, nutritional meals....so I am really starting to look forward to coming home and kicking this thing once and for all.
Anyway that's my news....not the most informative travel blog yet...but its the best I have for now.
Love to you all.
x
Monday, 1 November 2010
Angelina Jolie Step back!
Hello all!
I would just like to start by saying that I have just realized that I have TWO followers who I don't know.....TWO COMPLETE STRANGERS!!!! How bloody cool is that? Mum, dad I'm Famous! ;-)
Ok so I am currently in Bali, land of blond, dreaded, tattooed people all walking around with no shirts on.....some of which I would prefer them to put back on...but hey its a free world...
But as usual I'm back logged....and I will have to start with my night bus leaving Ho Chi Min city! Remember how my last blog ended of with me being mildly ashamed with my behavior...well then.....I would love to say that it all ended there....but noooooo apparently not!
For future reference for any one planning on traveling to Vietnam:
DO NOT: I repeat, DO NOT buy an open bus ticket! Basically you prepay all your bus tickets to the various places you are planning on going to, and they then come to you in a lovely little book. You are then 'sup-possibly' just meant to ask the hotel to call and reserve your place on the bus, whenever you would like to travel.
It all sounds so clean cut, so simply and so easy...until you discover that nooooo,
- the hotel can't phone for you and you actually have to trapes around the city trying to find the travel agent in question...
- which wouldn't be so bad if all the travel agent ticket addresses in your little book were actually correct.....
- which also wouldn't be so bad if all the the travel agents actually spoke English.
-If you are 'really lucky' the bus will be completely full for the next 2 days so you are either stuck in that particular city or have to repurchase another ticket.
-OR you end up getting some crazy women who confiscates your WHOLE open bus pass, (still with tickets in it) and refuses to give it back to you, adamant that she will re-issue you another one on the bus the next day............(trying to explain to her that SHE now had the only proof that that I had actually even bought the pass seemed to completely elude her!
And finally, you arrive for your final journey out of the country to discover that your pre-paid sleeper bus is NON existent and yes you will be sitting all the way to Cambodia, AND no you will not be refunded the extra money that you paid for the sleeper bus, because apparently you didn't buy the ticket from them.
So yes.....Open bus ticket...NOT a good idea! I ended up having to simply re buy at least 3 of the tickets just so that I could keep moving! So braced for our 6 hour ride to Cambodia (on our non-sleeper bus) we set off at 12pm. At about 2am I was aware that we had stopped driving....but thanks to my new sleeping pills...(For the record I do not advocate the use of sleeping pills....UNLESS you are traveling in UNCOMFORTABLE Vietnamese buses!! Don't worry mum I will check into rehab first thing when I am home!:-) ....I didn't wake up until 6 am. Only to discover that we were still standing still. We were meant to be arriving in Cambodia at 6am....and we had been sitting on the side of the road for the last 4 hours? I went to investigate and couldn't find the bus driver, the guide or their little helper anywhere!
Eventually someone pointed down to the luggage section......and low and behold ...there they all were fast asleep on top of our luggage snoring their heads off!!! Now far be it for me to ever make a scene.....(hhmmm;-) but it was at this point in time that my patience and frustration with this country seemed to just snap! I only had one week in Cambodia and these idiots had wasted 4 hours of my Cambodian time. Needless to say I mildly lost it and started shouting at them to wake up, demanded to know WHY we had only driven for 2 hours before they had all decided to take a FOUR HOUR NAP?......I wasn't the only disgruntled customer....but I was definitely that most vocal. 5 minutes later we were on the road again.....with me still mumbling under my breathe for at least another 10 min. (Yes Harvey it is at this point I should have been reading your favorite book, 'Dont sweat the small stuff! - BUT YOU FORGOT TO GIVE ME A COPY IN MY TRAVEL SURVIVAL KIT!;-)
At about 11.30am Nia and I finally arrived in Phnom Penh, Cambodia......and there standing outside the bus was the sweetest little man, with the biggest smile ever holding up a sign for us: Nia and Gayle!! Escaped at last, 5.5 hours late but we were finally in Cambodia!
And the best thing ever....this lovely little man called Peter OFFERED to carry our bags. Nia and I were both in shock. Not once in the entire time I was in Vietnam (or Laos , for that matter) did anyone offer to carry our bags) As far as I'm concerned feminism is dead and I was in heaven!
Ok I realize that I have only spent one week in Cambodia.....so its not really enough time to make an overall judgment of the entire country's population. (but I'm going to do it anyway) ... I absolutely loved all the people we met there. 98% of the time you are guaranteed to always get a smile. They are just such lovely, kind, friendly, sweet people....still so untainted by the tourist industry. Again men on bikes all over the place (Asking you for rides but there is never any pressure and they usually just end up making some sort of joke when you say no.)
Bike ride?
Aeroplane?
Helicopter?
Very cute!
So Nia and I decided to just spend 1 day in Phnom Penh and then move onto Siem Riep...as all I have ever heard about Cambodia is how amazing Siem Riep is!! Our lovely driver, Peter then spent the rest of the day driving us around. I was amazed at how good his English was, compared to so many of the Vietnamese we met, not to mention his hospitality....he was an absolute legend!
(Now Midget I know you don't like the historical parts of my blog...but unfortunately there are cultural people reading this as well so have kindly starred all the next section for you so that you can quite easily tune out and then back in at your leisure! This is also a little Gruesome.....so Irina babe....you might want to skip this too;-)
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OK so I personally had never heard of The Khmer Rouge before coming to Cambodia, but I picked up a book by called 'Stay Alive my Son' by Pin Yathay, while I was in Vietnam, which was absolutely amazing. Its basically about this man and his family that got forced out of their homes along with the 18 members of his family, and the rest of the entire city of Phnom Penh. He was the only one to survive. Its so mind boggling how many world wide atrocities there are that just never seem to be heard of. (well not by me anyway) Basically the Khmer Rough where an extreme communist guerrilla party led by Pol Pot that took over Cambodia from 1975- 1979. Pol Pots genocidal plans included arresting, torturing and eventually executing anyone suspected of belonging to several categories of supposed "enemies":
-Ethnic Vietnamese, Chinese,Thai and other minorities
-Cambodian Christians, Muslims and the Buddhist monks
- Professionals and intellectuals, (almost everyone with an education), or even people wearing glasses (which, according to the regime, meant that they were literate.)
- Anyone with connections to the former government or with foreign governments.
He basically turned Khmer Rouge into an efficient and ruthless killing machine of murder, and Cambodia into the "killing Fields".
In his book Pin doesn't talk about witnessing any murders or atrocities....but simply talks about how people where loaded onto trucks and taken away for "Re-education" or how people simply just disappeared in the night. What he did have to endure though was watching all his family members die from malnutrition and disease.
In Phnom Penh, Nia and I visited two places the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum (also known as S-21)and the Choeung Ek killing filed, I still can't decide which one was more heart breaking.
The Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum occupies the former grounds of a high school, turned into a prison camp. Classroom upon , classroom filled with a single metal bed, no mattress and chains. On each wall is a blown up black and white photo of the prisoners that were kept in there. Literally all you can see is mangled bodies covered in blood, chained to these beds. It seemed like each photo was more gruesome then the next. Some 17,000 people passed through this center to be tortured, including woman and children and of those only 12 have been known to survive!.....the Khmer Rogue were meticulous at photographing each and ever victim....so you have a whole ground floor of the school filled with photo's of the their victims. Also included in the museums was the the various methods of torture that they used.
After their time at S-21 was up the prisoners where then taken to sites outside Phnom Penh(also known as The Killing Fields), where they were executed (mainly by pickaxes to save bullets) and buried in mass graves.
At the Choeung Ek killing Field that we went to, there is a monument that has been built called the Memorial Stupa that contains the skulls and bones of 8985 of the victims they found in the mass graves. Although the graves have all been dug up, and most of the remains exhumed, incoming rains always wash up clothes, pieces of bone and even teeth. I think the worst thing there was "The killing tree" The Khmer Rouge executioners would hold babies by the their legs and then beat them to death on it.
It is just absolutely horrific what human beings can do to each other.
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So Nia and I returned back to our hostel pretty exhausted and mildly revolted only to discover that we then had the pleasure of sharing a room with the most INsaNE man (boy) on earth. Neither of us could remember his name afterwards, which in hind sight is probably a good thing. He came across just like a normal, friendly American and lulled into a safe sense of security so we invited him for dinner. How to explain this lunatic of a man?
The best I can do is give you a brief out line of his general beliefs.
He had just got back from spending time in South African and made the point of mentioning a couple of times how very "afraid" so many people living there were. When asked to elaborate, he simply stated that he can see it in our eyes, the eyes of course being the window of our souls.......blah, blah, blah....
But no that wasn't the REAL reason. You see on further discussion we learnt how the entire universe is wrapped up in the cryptic meanings hidden in words. (English words mind you...because according to him english is the most spoken language in the world......HA ...even I knew that wasn't true (its Mandarin Chinese).....AND IM BLOND!!!! Anyway...Im digressing....
FOR EXAMPLE:
- South Africans come from South Africa therefor they are very AFRaid.
- Nia comes from Whales.....so Welsh people, as a nation, wail a lot.
- For some reason American means "love I" taken from the word Amour? we couldn't quite follow that one.....
- We should never beLIEve in anything because its all a LIE
and then my all time favourite....his BeLIEf in Reincarnation ( Isn't he contradicting himself there????).....its all in the word reincarNATION. People are reincarnated into different Nations according to how good you are. On inquiring what Nation would then be deemed so unlucky as to to be on the lowest rung of the ladder...his answer was the SoMALians.....because MAL comes from the word MALicious! Thereby making all Somalians Malicious!
OOOOOOH and lets not forget that the world is going to end in 2012 ....(for those of you that don't already know.) (Kelly babe, we better get married quick!) Because there is going to be a NEW CLEAR war!
Honest to God that man had, without a shadow of a doubt, the Wierdest, most deluded theories that I have heard.....a couple of times he tried to goad me into a debate on religion, challenging my beLIEf in God, which I simply was not interested in.....as far as I am concerned God speaks for himself and he doesn't need me arguing his existence! Never the less Nia and I had loads of fun laughing at his website the next day....which is as insane as he is. (Bruce you might find this pretty funny......it even has star wars clips in it!;-)
( http://www.circusoflife.com/ )
So happy to say good buy to him the next morning (and cheekily promising to send him an email in 2013;-) Nia and I left for Siem Riep, where we have been for the last 4 days. I have to admit we didn't really do much here except go to the temples of Angkor Wat. Ever since I have been in South East Asia all I have heard about is Angkor Wat! How amazing, How beautiful, how breathtaking! Lonely Planet suggest doing these temples over 3 days, and actually says : "If you only have 1 day to do it in, what a shame!" So Nia and I were toying with the idea of 1 or 2 days....until of course we heard the price, $20 a day, and the decision was very quickly made for us... we would cram it all into one whole day.
It would be tiring
It would be tough....but we could do it!
So 5am we set off with our trusty new driver, Same (a friend of Peters ) all ready to catch this breathtaking Angkor Wat Sunrise. We stood around for about an hour with all the other sunrise junkies....waiting...um.....(im)patiently. We took a zillion pictures and then went for a much deserved breakfast. At about 7am we set off to see the various temples that are spread over a 17 km area. (Same driving us to each site of course)
3.5 hours later Nia and I were finished the entire lot! (Yes Aunty Stella its true! -apparently Nia is a 'scanner' too:-) Honestly though how people spend 3 DAYS there is beyond me......yes, its beautiful, but everything just seemed to be exactly the same. In our defense, I wasn't feeling to well, and Nia was still wounded from her near death /bike mugging experience, AND we couldn't afford a guide (another $25) But yes we were pretty pitiful....hell we were passed by old men with walking sticks and a women in a wheelchair! Maybe its the fact that everyone had bigged it up so much, but I just didn't feel that overwhelmed by the sights. I mean I remember going to Tikal, the ancient Mayan sights in Guatemala and been absolutely 'blown away' by that.
Of course Nia and I still had a an absolutely great time, it kind of felt like the more time we spent together the funnier we became. (Now I know that's hard to believe, cause I'm already pretty funny...but its the truth!) Ironically enough we always seemed to wake up in the mornings at pretty much exactly the same time...open our eyes look at each other and just pack out laughing. Its pretty great when you meet someone who just finds the same things as you funny, so much so that you don't even have to verbalize it. So yes my 'BIG Quarter Pounder double mac with cheese' travel mate and I had loads of fun at the temples. I swear people must have thought we were drunk the entire time with the amount of giggling and falling over ourselves we were doing. (Very mature I know....but so much fun!)
Take it from Nia's and Gayle's Lazy Travel book.....you only need 3.5 hours for Angkor Wat!
I have to say something about the street children in Siem Riep. I had heard that they could be pretty full on, but I figured, if I could survive India then I sure as hell could cope with Cambodia......once again I was wrong. Most of the stuff being sold on the street here, are sold by children. Pretty much most of our Angkor Wat experience was marred with children from as young as 4 years old holding up bangles, postcards all shouting! ONE DOLLAR! ONE DOLLAR! ONE Dollar!! (in ever so cute American Accents) Apparently there are as many as 1500 street children in Siem Riep alone. Those that are selling stuff are absolutely relentless, often demanding to know 'why' you wont buy their stuff?' Their faces are also absolutely heart breaking as they plead with you to buy something...but as soon as they realise it isn't going to work they walk away furious muttering and swearing under their breath. We had one boy that continuously came up to us during dinner and at times would just stand there watching us eat. When we firmly asked him to go he walked away pulling a zap sign at us. The sad thing is that most of these children who sell stuff have actually been sold by their parents to pay off gambling depts, or because they simply cant afford to keep them.
We found that the absolute worst time with these children was when we came out of a clubs. (Ummm yeh the other thing we did in Siem Riep) 2am, 3am...these kids are always there. They simply run up to you and jump into your arms, clinging onto you for dear life. The hugging I didn't mind but then the begging for food starts. One night Nia and I had 13 children around us aged from 3-11 including two babies being held by 5/6 year olds. We each had a child in our arms, while all the others where clinging onto various bbody parts, all begging for food. Its just heart breaking......(even Nia, who is less of a sap with the kids than I am seemed to wane) We planned to sit down and eat at our regular little stall and we decided to just buy a couple of fried rices for the children to eat.....but no sooner had we said we would get them something did the children start pulling us towards another stall insisting we buy from there.
At that point we both came to our senses and realized that we were just being scammed. We watched as a couple of another tourists came out of the shop and handed out some bread to the children, only to over hear one of the older boys snap: "We don't want bread!"
The next night, ( one would think I would have wised up by now) , the exact same thing happened, except this time it was just a 6 year old girl, holding a screaming baby and an empty bottle begging for milk. Being wise on this 'milk scam' I went into the shop to buy the 'milk' and not the $20 formula that she wanted. I bought her a some fresh milk and some bread...and she was absolutely fuming....quite clearly that was not what she had wanted and she wouldn't even let me put the milk in the bottle for the baby! She could barely bring her self to even look at me as she mumbled thanks and stormed out of the shop.
Once again I realize that giving in to their begging and demanding only makes matters worse......I thought I had learnt that lesson in India already? Clearly not!
On arriving in Siem Riep, Nia and I soon discovered that there was going to be a Hallaween Party... and neeedless to say we were both determined to put in the effort. Trying to decide what we wanted to go as was most doubtably the hardest part due to the fact that Siem Riep had a limited number of fancy dress shops. i.e NONE!
So we had a quest....we set ourself a budget of $20 for both of our costumes (everything is dollars here) and began rummaging through the markets for ANYTHING that vaguely represented blood, or anything else that might be deemed 'mildly' scary! Eventually we decided to go as 'Suicide Brides' - Grooms MIA (of course!).....due to the fact that I wanted to wear a bloody wedding dress and Nia...well being the Goth that she already is just wanted to wear black!!!
I can't imagine what the women in the market must have thought as she watched us measure and size up black bin bags against our bodies, but if she was confused she certainly didn't show it.....us foreigners are a weird bunch you know.
So armed with our black bags and 7 meters of black lace netting that we bought for $12 we set about designing our wedding dresses. Mum I think you would have been proud!
The night before our 'big day' we met some friends that we had shared a hostel with in Ho Chi Minh and they decided to join us the next night, subsequently becoming our body guards.
Now sad as it is for me to admit this ...I think October 31st 2010 is probably the closest I will ever get to being famous. As it turns out this Halloween party is quite the event in Siem Riep with the locals turning out in hoards to take photographs, and some of them even in costumes themselves. The party starts as a pub crawl going through the town, stopping at various bars for about 30min. So many of the costumes were amazing...which makes me think some travellers actually put some thought into this 'before' they left home. (sad, sad people;-) Anyway every time we stepped out of a pub there were people every where waiting to take our photo's! It was like having our very own Paparazzi!!!
The whole night was just so much fun ........and yes....it was at this point that I realized that yes, indeed, I was born to be the center of attention.....unfortunately God with all his wisdom (and humor) forgot to give my 'attention seeking soul' a single talent worthy of the adoration of millions. ....I plan on having words with him in 70 years or so!
And so all in all a great end to a wonderful time with my Gorgous Nia (AKA K.K). 11 whole days with the same person and I never once wanted to kill her....there is hope for me yet!
I have been in Indonesia for 5 days now...and I miss her like crazy....but I think thats for the next blog!
I cant believe I only have a month and a half left...but I am so excited about seeing family and friends again, that it hardly seems to matter!
Lots of love
x
The morning after photo's and the first words out of Nia's mouth were:
"Where our grooms?"
Where indeed? Where indeed? ;-)
Sunday, 17 October 2010
North vs South
Hello all
I’m so sorry its taken me so long to get back in touch but life in Vietnam has been pretty hectic. I don’t think I have ever been to a country that has stirred up so many conflicting emotions in me. I started my blog over 3 weeks ago when I arrived in Hanoi in the South...and reading some of what I wrote then almost seems alien to me now. Obviously Im leaving it all in here, because its true to how I felt at the time.....but right this minute...I’m looking forwards to leaving the country tomorrow.
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Can I just start by saying.....I absolutely LOVE Vietnam! Lonely planet describes it as one of the most intoxicating destinations on earth and I would have to completely agree!
Out of all the places I have been to, Vietnam is without a doubt my absolute favorite!!
I arrived in Hanoi after a 24 hour bus ride from Vientiane. To sum up the journey; let me to quote some of the inscriptions "scratched" by passed travelers onto the back of the bus.
"Welcome to the bus ride from Hell."
" Vientiane to Hanoi longest 47hours of my life"
"Prepare to be left in the bus for 6 hours without air conditioning"
I had heard before I booked the journey that the bus ride was horrendous...but being the 'seasoned traveler' That we ALL know that I am...I made the mistake of thinking..."Really!! How bad can it be?"
(Never think those words!)
Each person is assigned a bed that basically looks like a narrow dentist chair. Your feet then have to go into a plastic box that is about 1/2 a meter long. The box then narrows down to a height of about 15cm. ....so unless you are a size 3 shoe (Midget you would have been fine) you are unable to put your feet upright while sleeping on your back. Of course if sleeping like a ballerina, in first position, is comfortable for you then you would have loved this bus.
Unfortunately not putting your feet in the box is just not an option as there is simply no where else to put them. Each bed is also not completely horizontal which means that you can't lie flat either!
Lets just say its not a comfortable ride...and yes we did stop for 6 hours without air conditioning. I however was very lucky to have one more emergency sleeping pill on hand which worked like a bomb...so I slept through it all!
All that been said though...the bus was clean and once again nothing brings people together like mutual shared discomfort! I still don’t know which is worse...the comfortable, filthy, noisy buses in India or the clean, bone crushingly uncomfortable buses in Vietnam??
I have to admit I was a bit apprehensive about coming to Vietnam. After the numerous, less than favorable descriptions I have heard about the Vietnamese people, I was a bit dubious as to what I should actually expect. Compared to the Laos people...they always seem to come off second best. Now I have to agree that the Laos people are lovely, gentle and sweet....but on a whole I found them to be a little a bit bland. (especially after India) Yes they are incredibly honest and would never try and trick you out of your money...but they also very seldom interested in any form of conversation with 'Fa lang' (foreigners). I realize that this is due to the fact that so few of them don't actually speak any English and that Laos as a country is a lot poorer than Vietnam but never the less , I still found it all a little insipid. The Vietnamese on the other hand have been described as rude, overly persistent and cheats who are generally just after your money.
No sooner was I off my bus in Vietnam and ordering my first meal did the waitress attempt to over charged me 3 times the price for my meal. With one : "What the hell, are you bloody crazy look from me????" she then literally fell over herself in an absolute fit of giggles. Shouting to all co-workers who also seemed to find it just hilarious and then graciously accepted the correct amount of money from me.
If I were to sum up the Vietnamese people I would say that they are just plain cheeky. And I absolutely love it. My first day in Hanoi....I literally spent the whole day laughing. From the taxi driver who tried to overcharge me and that then wanted me to get a room with him, to the rotten teethed old man who tried to pull me in for a kiss when I shook his hand....what normally would have been a mildly uncomfortable situations always seems to be diffused by their ability to laugh at themselves and you. For a nation that has spent thousands of years fighting off the Japanese’s, French and Americans their vitality and love for life is just amazing!
I would have to say indisputably that the Vietnamese just 'get' my sense of humor! I can be sarcastic, cheeky and over dramatize things to my hearts content and always be guaranteed to get a laugh. (Granted 1/2 of the time they probably don’t know what this white women is going on about...but never the less they pack out laughing anyway. In Vietnam I am the funniest person in the world! What’s not to love!;-)
Hanoi itself if absolutely beautiful. Thanks to the French, every single shop has the street name on it which makes it an absolute joy to walk around. I was very lucky to have arrived in time for the 1 week celebration of Hanoi's 1000 birthday! The entire city was absolutely heaving and buzzing with smiling, happy people. Similar to India I had many people coming up to me wanting to have their photograph taken with me, except here.... they don’t simply stand next to you. They throw their arms around you and cuddle right in.
After I spent a day in Hanoi I took a 3 day boat trip to Halong Bay, which was absolutely beautiful.
For me one of the best things about traveling are the friends you make along the way. It's a given fact that you are continuously making and meeting new friends....but inevitably you will meet some one that you just absolutely 'click' with, that uber, crème de la crème, "BIG Double mac with large fries" travel mate. Within a couple of hours you are best friends and you feel like you have known each other for years. Its these travel mates that make all the frustrations of traveling alone just sooooo worth it! Its these travel mates that you will always remember even if you only spend one day with them.
Over the last week God has been smiling and I was sent 3 such amazing friends.
Laura, Jessica and Micah! (All American....I might add)
Laura and I only really had a couple of hours together because they had put her and her boyfriend on the wrong boat. Needless to say when they tried to remove them later on that evening we did everything within our human possibilities to keep them with us....we begged , we pleaded, we preformed and we offered money (well she did that) ..but inevitably they had to leave and I think we were both mildly heartbroken. Then however I started chatting to Jessica and we pretty much spent the next two days in Halong Bay swimming, canoeing, (Well....sitting in the canoe and talking) sun tanning and more talking..... you would have thought we would have run out of things to talk about but we never did! It never ceases to amaze me how many gorgeous , intelligent single women there are out there! Jessica is definitely one of them!
On the trip back to Hanoi City, where I was preparing myself to have to say good buy to my gorgeous NBF Jessica, I then met Micah.
A 19 year old American that is more mature than most 30 year old men I have ever met. From the moment we met...you guessed it...we didn't stop talking. Its hard to believe a 19 year could have done so many things with his life already. Last year he went to Uganda to help with the child victims suffering under "the Lords Army " run by Joseph Coney. The stories that he told me were pretty gruesome and for the sake of the weak hearted I don't think I am going to repeat them. But have included a blog I found that pretty much summed up what I heard from him.
http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendId=3580397&blogId=239671799
(Just in case anyone is interested!)
Needless to say I found talking to him fascinating!
We had arrived back in Hanoi just in time for the final night of the Celebrations. We had a fantastic evening and I am convinced that Micah was sent to remind me that the kind of man I am looking for "Does exist"!
All I need to do now is to find the 16 year older model.... who isn't already hopelessly in love with his girlfriend!! ;-)
The following day I set off on the night bus for Hue! (Pronounced: Who - ay) I had booked my ticket 3 days before, so imagine my frustration when I arrive at the travel agent only to be told:
"OOOOOOOH sowweeee but sleeping bus full booked. You go sitting bus!" I was livid to say the least, but what can you do? SO sitting bus it was. I watched in dismay as all the other travelers crammed into the very uncomfortable sleeping bus and I got put into the equally uncomfortable sitting bus with all the locals.
2 hours into the journey, our lovely sitting bus broke down and we where left sitting on the side of the road for 3 hours while they tried to fix it!
I have to admit I absolutely marveled at the calmness of everyone.....I could only imagine the anger and moaning had this been a bus in a Western country....but everyone filed out of the bus settled down and waited.
At 1am another bus was sent and we were finally on our way!
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In the last 14 days or so I have pretty much spent my time traveling down from Hue , to Hoi An, Nha Trang and now Ho Chi Min City. Which is where I currently find myself sitting. At the movement It feels like every inch of my body is absolutely seething with frustration! To be fair I have had an amazing 3 weeks.....there has not been a single minute where I have been alone and I have met some absolutely lovely people. I have been to the most amazing water Park ever, did a Vietnamese cooking class and even did some parasailing! (Kinda like parachuting except you are harnessed to a speed boat!) I have no doubt I will look back and remember all the great times I have had....but at this point in time there seems to be a massive shift in how I feel about Vietnam. And this is where I find myself now....confused and not to sure what to make of the country that I declared my undying love for a couple of weeks ago. I think it all started on my trip from Hoi An to Nha Trang. Once again I was on one of the wonderful sleeper buses. I remember lying there listening to this German girl who has lived in Vietnam for 2 years go on and on about how much she hated the Vietnamese people.
I lay there listening to her...wondering why I seemed to have such a completely different perception of them. I distinctly remember thinking how I seemed to be in this little "I love Vietnam " bubble....that was just so the contrary to what most people seemed to think. I decided then and there that it was simply her negative attitude and chose not to listen to her any more.
Later that night while I was sleeping I kept feeling something touching me....I thought it was just the guy who was asleep on the floor next to me bumping into me by accident. At one point I definitely felt fingers on my back trying to pull my blanket off ....I turned around and it was the Vietnamese guy on the top bunk leaning over me. Needless to say there was no way I was going to sleep after that so I spent the next 2 hours just lying there. Him watching me. Me watching him. At one point he leant over and started trying to touch the girl on the top bunk above me, at which point I screamed at him and hit him with my pillow. (GIRL POWER!)
It wasn’t anything to hectic...but I have to admit it was the most uncomfortable I have ever felt traveling...even in India non of the men would ever have dared touch you! I always felt reasonably safe and respected!
Thank goodness the bus arrived in Nha Trang about 20 minutes after that at about 5 am in the morning. I arrived at my hostel exhausted, only to be told by the grumpy guy working there that he only starts work at 6 am so I would just have to wait for an hour. Never in my travelling life has that ever, ever happened......hotels and hostels are usually only to pleased to go out of their way to make you comfortable and welcome you! In frustration and defiance I walked away....declaring I would go somewhere else ......only to return an hour later, hot sweaty and miserable with my tail between my legs because I couldn't find any other hostels in the area!
Nha Trang is the beach / party town of Vietnam and the attention you get here is simply relentless. From the moment you step out of the hostel and onto the street you are followed by taxi men on bikes and women selling sunglasses, books, jewelry...you name it they will probably have it!
Where you go?
Where you from?
What’s your name?
You want sunglasses?
You want massage?
A quite day at the beach? Think again. A peaceful dinner for 2....not on your life....these people actually come into the restaurant to try and sell you their stuff. It absolutely amazes me that they are never, ever sent away.
Now the women sellers I have to admit I actually quite warmed to after a while....they are always smiling and pretty eager to have a chat, even if its spurred on by the hope that you will eventually buy something. (which I did;-)But the men down this end of Vietnam.....mmmm...not to sure about them. They are just so different from the jovial, non threatening men in the North (massive generalizing going on here I know....but bare with me) I supposed the fact that we were walking around in beach wear didn't help much but you just feel letched at all the time. Its the sordid winks, the cat whistles, the way they looked you up and down when they talk to you and the constant harassment for lifts. In Hanoi...they simply sat on their bikes and called to you...in Nha Trang they follow you. I just didn't like it. My last night there I was out with a couple of friends from the hostel. We came out of a club at about 2 am and within seconds we were surrounded by 3 guys on a motor bikes and 4 Vietnamese girls. The girls were simply laughing and trying to hug us....a couple of seconds later after yelling at them to leave us alone...I discovered that my camera was gone and so was my friend Pete's wallet!
Trust me to be mugged by the "hugging" gang!!!
Yesterday I arrived in Ho Chi Min city (Saigon) and ended up spending that day with a very lovely Welsh girl called Nia. In the morning we went to the War Remnants Museum which was absolutely heart breaking. So many shocking photo's of the Vietnamese people killed during the war. There was also a whole section devoted to the victims of Agent Orange (a chemical that the Americans used to kill the dense forest that the Viet Kong where hiding in. ) The birth defects of so many thousands of children as a result of this chemical are just unbelievable. (Vietnames and American)
In the afternoon we set off to buy me a new camera...mmmmmmmmmmm...that in itself was an experience and a half. It seems that in the streets you are continuously bombarded by sellers trying to get you to buy ANYTHING and EVERYTHING.....but no sooner than you walk into many of the shops, are you totally ignored. We would walk in...wait...and then watch as other Vietnamese customers got served before us. They simply did not seem interested in helping us and would often just walk away to the back of the shop. It got to the point were we couldn't help but laugh at how completely insignificant we were to them!
I have to admit Nia was an absolutely angel and spent a good 3 hours walking around patiently with me. While we were with drawing money from an ATM there were about 5 street children at the machine next to us trying to get money out with a card. They gave us the card and wanted us to get money for them. We looked at the card and the name on it was of a Dutch/or may German Doctor so it definitely wasn't theirs. We decided to walk over to a police man and hand the card to him...he spoke to the children and agreed that it wasn’t their card but didn't seem to want to take it. (Clearly he knew better than to anger little Vietnamese kids....we unfortunately were not so knowledgeable.) We made the executive decision to simply take the card and destroy it!!! Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeg mistake. We then spent the next 30 minutes been stalked by 4-7 bloody angry little Vietnamese terrorists. (they seemed to gather more friends as they walked) The scariest being a little 6 year old that kept running up to me hitting me. I did my best teacher yell and he seemed to back off for a bit...but they just would not go away. We went into a camera shop only to have them all waiting outside for us yelling and screaming. We eventually walked out but the oldest one cornered Nia and wouldn't let her pass. I literally had to pull the child out of Nia's way. Eventually we decided the only way to get rid of them was to get on a bike taxi. In hind sight I realize that all they are thinking is that we were going to use the card to get the money that they so desperately wanted. They had no concept that the card itself was useless without a pin.
And thus brings me to this morning. There is only one word to describe the traffic in Saigon. Insane. Like most Vietnamese cities the motorbikes rule the road and trying to cross safely is always a bit of a 'life and death situation' That been said most of the bikes do slow down and allow you to weave through them....
This morning as we were crossing the road this guy was coming at us at about 3 times the speed of all the other bikes. I jumped forward in front of him but he went straight into Nia. She had a massive 3 cm cut under her eye and on her leg which were just pouring with blood. It all happened so fast. A couple of people went to help the guy on the bike, who promptly climbed back on and rode away. I helped Nia up only to have the taxi's and cars hooting at us to move off the road. A couple of people came to help from the side of the road but in all honesty I was absolutely appalled at the lack of concern by the other drivers. We then went into a restaurant and they were quite helpful. Nia doesn't have any travel insurance so she was really reluctant to go to hospital....she however wasn't looking at the gaping, bloody, gushing eye that I was, and I managed to persuade her to go. We spent the next 4 hours getting her sorted out. She had to have stitches on her face and leg and has hairline fracture on her wrist. I have to admit it wasn't the best of experiences, especially since the guy who did her leg started stitching before the anesthetic had kicked in, so she could feel everything. She came out almost in tears. I just really hope that they sewed her face up properly....it would be so awful for her to have a massive scar there!! We later discovered that her bag was broken and on talking to a couple of local people it seems that the guy was most probably after her bag.
And this is were I find myself now......I cant help think about how different this whole situation would have been had we been in India. The indifference that we seemed to be treated with today was just quite heart breaking. At one point we walked up 6 flights of stairs at the hospital trying to find someone, anyone to help us.
I cant figure out what I feel for Vietnam anymore. I feel frustrated that I have felt so, so angry and jaded these last couple of days....because this is definitely not who I am.
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Last day in Vietnam today and 40 minutes till Nia and I leave for Cambodia....so I have to finish this blog. I have been thinking a lot today about Vietnam and how hard it is to figure out!
There definitely seems to be a massive difference between the North and the South. I find it quite ironic that the North were the communists in the Vietnam war and the south were the Republicans supported by the Americans. It makes you wonder why we try so hard to bring Western culture to other countries. I clearly loved it in the North.......but at the same time I definitely don’t want to over generalize and completely discredit the South. I have to admit its very easy to allow negative events to taint your perceptions and I do honestly feel like that has been a big part of my frustrations these last couple of days. I left India feeling calm, centred and good about myself as a person.....but I leave Vietnam feeling ever so slightly ashamed that I have allowed myself to be sucked into all the negatism that so many of the foreigners seem to dwell on here! Its so easy to follow the pack! Maybe its been a good reminder of how easy it is to be positive when all is well.....and how much harder we need to work at it the rest of the time!
And that brings me to the end. Nia and I had a fantastic day today crossing the road like two little old women, and following Midgets advice by hiding behind locals.
So all is well and happy and I have a TAN!!
I miss you all and apologize for the severe lack of emailng this month......but rest assured...it was only because I was out having too much fun!;-)
Lots of love
x
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