“I feel like we might remain friends.”

Thirteen years ago next month, I first came to Cambodia as a beady eyed, ignorant sixteen year old; eager to see the world and discover new cultures. This country captured my heart the moment I arrived and thus dictated my path over the following decade. Today, I leave Cambodia and, I must admit, the country which I fell in love with has broken my heart, just a little.

For the most part, this is a happy blog. It’s about the friends I met, the opportunities I seized, the memories which will stay with me forever. But, before I get all nostalgic, one thing must be noted. This country has changed, as all countries do. And while the old Cambodia I fell in love with is still here, I’m now only seeing glimpses of that world, as international development and influences sweep through. I won’t name names. But let’s just say the speed of “their” economic expansion here has been terrifying and needs to be reined in. I think it’s safe to criticise this “government” when you’re about to board a plane, right? I just hope the charming, friendly, beautiful country which I once knew manages to retain as much of its culture as possible. From where I stand, it’s slipping away, one casino at a time.

The decision to leave after living here for five years wasn’t made overnight. It was carefully considered but I came to the conclusion that I was ready to move on and that Cambodia was no longer the place for me. It was a decision I couldn’t have imagined making eighteen months ago but now, sat in the taxi on the way to the airport, I can’t imagine staying. Life changes fast sometimes. Not everything changes; I keep my job thanks to my wonderful boss. I’m bringing my cat because who doesn’t want to invest $1,000 in a bundle of fur who bites you if she’s bored of being stroked? And I’ll be returning to my childhood home, where my wonderful parents are graciously allowing me to return for a few months.

A lot has happened in the past five years, let alone the past thirteen. A levels, gap years (two), undergraduate degree, masters degree, teaching, setting up a charity, starting to write, getting paid to write, working for a business, becoming a team manager. You never know where life will take you but I’ve been riding the waves which crest before me and I’m pretty happy with the direction my board is heading. Heading back to Devon clearly brings out teenage surfer Ruth…

I am of course leaving behind a lot of amazing friends. I’m known (in my mind) for my goodbye blogs, written for people when they leave Cambodia but I’m afraid I don’t have the time nor the emotional energy to write one for all you wonderful people I’m saying farewell to in the kingdom of wonder. So I’ll just say thank you here. Thank you, to each and every one of you. From the friends I met in my first weeks in Phnom Penh back in 2014 to the families who welcomed me into their homes in Kampot to my Khmer friends who have taught me so much about this country and showed me its inner beauty and everyone in between. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I feel incredibly privileged to have spent the last five years with a group of kind, funny, intelligent, eclectic individuals. I will miss you all so much but I know this isn’t goodbye forever, just for a while.

And then there are the friends who have already left. Phnom Penh in particular holds ghosts for me, most of them Casper-like. I walk down streets which have changed not-so-subtly over the years and remember dinners, nights out, dodgeball tournaments, tuk tuk journeys and so much more. Some of my closest friendships were formed here and while some have faded over time, a few remain strong, even with oceans between us. I suppose now I’m the one putting oceans between friends. But with technology and determination, these connections can endure. And I’ll make sure they do.

The title of this blog came from one of my closest friends, at the end of my last night in Kampot. You know what? I feel the same way. This country bonds you; the experiences, the challenges, the memories, the moments which make it truly live up to its name of “the Kingdom of Wonder.” Sometimes, wondering is all you can do here. And Cambodia, despite everything you’ve thrown at me and put my some of friends through, you’ll always hold a special place in my heart.

This will be the last blog post for Lemon in Cambodia. Lemon in Devon doesn’t have quite the same ring to it but I’m excited about my new adventure nonetheless. Sat in a taxi, bumping my way towards the airport, with the most expensive cat I will ever own asleep in her travel crate beside me, I know I’ve made the right decision. This is the first time I’ve been leaving Cambodia and felt good about it. Usually I’m sick to my stomach and bawling my eyes out. I’m nervous, I’m sad, but above all else, I can’t wait to find out what happens now. It’s my time, and Nugget’s. I’m ready; for the next chapter, the next challenge, the next step. At the age of 29, I’m growing up, I’m settling down.

Cambodia, you beautiful, illogical, hilarious, insane, friendly, scary, unforgettable place, in the words of Fall Out Boy, thanks for the memories.

KP – From PP to NT

I’ve always wanted a friend who went by their initials. For some reason the concept seemed innately ‘cool’ and luckily for me, KP did not disappoint! Photo one is Exhibit A in coolness.

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It is almost two years to the day that I met KP. We were both invited by friends who were friends to a dinner one weekday in Phnom Penh. There was a big group of us but I do distinctly remember KP and thinking she, much like her initials, was ‘cool’. A few weeks after our meal, I headed back to the UK for Christmas as always but resolved upon my return to message KP and arrange to get together with her. She beat me to it however and invited me out to dinner shortly after I landed back in the Kingdom.

I suppose our friendship blossomed from there. Cambodia and other expat communities have a funny way of throwing people together who, in another other context, would probably not have crossed paths. But I’m immensely glad that KP and I not only met but had the opportunities to become friends.

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Just a few months into our friendship, however, KP decided to leave Cambodia. She, being the sociable person she is, had no less than three going away parties. I, being the awesome friend I am, attended two of them. But then mere weeks after returning to her native Australia, she announced she was back for another volunteer stint!

Cambodia Expat
KP at her first going away drinks

By the time KP got back to Phnom Penh, I was living in Kampot so we had to accept weekends hanging out rather than random evenings whenever we felt like it (KP lived opposite my old house in Phnom Penh). We had many an adventure together, including exploring (twice) the secret waterfall (we were successful the second time), many meals at Greenhouse, numerous lunches at Sesame Noodle (at my behest), an exploration of Silk Island and a massage or two at Banteay Srey Spa.

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Inevitably in Cambodia, people move on. I’m sad to see KP leaving but I’m also very excited to see the next chapter of her life unfurl. The job she’s moving to begin in the Northern Territory of Australia is not only an amazing opportunity for her career but also just an awesome thing to be doing. She’ll be working in Darwin with women in prison there and I’m so proud of her.

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Of course, in true KP style, there were three going away parties once more. Due to my being in Kampot, I was only able to go to one of them and I decided to surprise her. It was, and I quote: “The best surprise ever.” I’ll take that endorsement.

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I’m honoured to have been friends with KP for the past two years and I’m very much going to miss this confidant from my circle of Cambodian friends. KP is unlike anyone else I have ever met and our friendship is something I know will continue and will be cherished for years to come. Thanks to WhatsApp and Facebook and Skype (and a possible move for me to Australia) I have no doubt that we’ll stay in close touch.

KP, thank you for the awesome times. Thank you for listening. Thank you for all the hilarious memories. Thank you for the TV evenings. Thank you for the random nights out. Thank you for the cranberry vodka. And thank you for coming back to Cambodia after leaving too soon the first time around. If you ever decide to come back again, we’ll all welcome you back with open arms! Good luck in the NT. PP KP, over and out.

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The Curse Of The Expat

Over the years I’ve lived abroad, I have written a number of blogs in the wake of friends leaving. It’s an inevitability, or perhaps a curse, that those of us who live in the expat community embody a transient existence. We all love to travel, to explore, to experience new things, and as a result of our adventurous personalities, we move. When you’re not the one moving, however, it means you have to say goodbye to people more often than is natural. And some of those people are special enough to deserve a blog.

I met Sabina over a year before I moved to Kampot. She worked at my favourite guesthouse and as a result I would see her every couple of months when I came down on holiday. We were nothing more than customer and front-of-house manager at that point but I think we got on well and I don’t think I was an overly annoying patron …

By the time I actually moved to Kampot, Sabina had left her job in the guesthouse so imagine my surprise when I bumped into her right outside my house. Mere days after I arrived, Sabina and her family had returned to Kampot and moved into a house directly opposite my own. It was great to see her, as I had always liked this friendly, fiery Italian, but I was recovering at that time from the last curse of the expat, the departure of Jordan days before I relocated to Kampot. I wasn’t really in the mood to make new friends.

But slowly, over the coming weeks and months, I realised that perhaps being sociable wasn’t so bad. Sabina and her partner, Erwan, are both incredibly social people and it is in their nature to invite others to join them in their activities. For this, in hindsight, I am eternally grateful. Within weeks, Sabina was inviting me to join her and her friends, all families based here in Kampot, on various activities and outings. I fell, blissfully, serendipitously, into the most wonderful friendship group I could have imagined. Even though I am writing this blog because Sabina is leaving, I’m not going to be alone, thanks to the other women and their families that Sabi introduced me to.

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The final Friday night hoorah!

Because I work from home, there can be days on end when I don’t have a conversation with another human. Sabina realised this and began inviting me out for dinner or drinks mid-week, just to make sure I didn’t go mad. Along with her adorable son, Altinio, we’d drive into town and see Erwan for a beer or grab take-away noodles to be eaten on her porch. On other days, when work had been hard or stressful or just long, I’d wander over to her house. Regardless of what she was doing, Sabina always made me feel welcome when I turned up on her doorstep, inviting me in for food and drink and generally making sure I didn’t go mad. Someone else will have to pick up the slack in her absence, no doubt!

Every Friday night over the past several months, Sabina hosted a gathering where all her friends (and me) would all come over to eat food and drink wine. Most of the other women have children, Sabina included, and they played together as we chatted into the evening. This day became the highlight of my week as I got to know my new circle of friends and their kids. This tradition will endure but I suspect the house’s new occupant may request we find a different venu.

When Sabina told me she, Erwan and Altinio were heading back to Italy, I felt a familiar sense of dread. I scolded myself for doing it again; for getting close to someone who was going to leave. Hadn’t I learnt my lesson? Hadn’t I lost enough friends to the expat curse? But then, over time, I slowly realised that perhaps the pain and sadness one feels when you have to say goodbye is outweighed by the good times. The positive memories, the laughs, the treasured moments which will remain long after the tears have dried. Surely the harder the goodbye, the more special the friendship. Let’s just say this one was a difficult goodbye.

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Another Friday night when we actually left Sabi’s porch

Being friends with Italian people is great! In addition to the fact that Sabina served me delicious pasta and introduced me to all the best food spots in town, she is an amazing, warm, generous and very down-to-earth person. I also loved her European attitude to life as well as watching her son begin to copy her Italian mannerisms. Over the past ten months, she has become my main confidant in Kampot, always offering advice and support whenever I need it. She even helped keep me alive when I got sick a few weeks ago, bringing me coconuts and little dishes of food when I was too pathetic to get out of bed.

I have many fond memories of my friendship with Sabina as well as great times with her son and partner. Erwan was the person who helped lift my moto up after my first crash – a true Kampot milestone. Altinio was the child who made me think perhaps parenting wouldn’t be so bad (although there are times when he definitely earned his nickname of False Advertising). Kampot won’t be the same without these three people. My life here will change, more than I think I realise right now. And change is hard but it’s also inevitable. The change Sabina and Erwan are making is exciting for them and fantastic for their son. They leave behind friends but they head back to Europe where they have family waiting for them, eager to help them build a new life together.

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Of course, with technology and air travel, goodbye is never forever. But it still hurts. So all I’ll say is goodbye for now. I don’t know when I’ll see you all again but I’m sure that I will. Good luck as you set off on your next adventure. I wish you all the best and I can’t wait to see what you achieve.

Motorbike Kampot Ride

Calamity Ruth

In the spirit of my New Year’s Resolution to update this blog more frequently, I am now posting about even the most mundane events in my life. Feel free to duck out now …

 

This week saw my first moto crash, after riding for six months. To be fair, the word crash is a massive exaggeration. It was a bump, an incident, pathetically anticlimactic and barely worth the 700 words I’ve managed to pull from a few seconds of drama. I’ll first of all say that I am 100% completely ok and that there is no need to worry. Now I’ll go on to set the scene.

 

I was driving along, as I do every day, through the ‘centre’ of Kampot. Full face helmet on, as always. I was even wearing long yoga pants (a skin-saver, it turns out). I indicated to turn into a junction and slowed down to wait for some passing traffic. I was almost in the centre of the road, pootling along at about 2mph. Once the way was clear, I turned, as my indicator suggested was my next planned manoeuvre. At that exact same moment, two young local lads zoomed by, catching my front tire as they overtook me. There was really nothing I could do to stop the inevitable. Hello road!

 

It didn’t even hurt. I was moving so slowly that the impact was negligible. As I looked up from my new position (horizontal on a warm and dusty road), I saw the two guys looking over their shoulder before speeding off. The next sight was my friend’s partner running across the road towards me. I don’t know many people in Kampot but I happened to have toppled over outside his place of work, for which I am grateful. He lifted the bike off me and walked me and it to the side of the road. By this time, the policemen in their newly erected police station (a shipping container painted white and blue), had noticed the ‘foreigner in trouble’ and decided to get involved. You never know when you’re going to receive a cash ‘thank you’, after all.

 

Holding my broken wing mirror and the end of my brake handle, I had to then explain to the overly concerned cops that the scratch on my leg had come not from the accident they had just witnessed but from the day before when I had somehow walked into my own desk. It’s a wonder I am still alive, to be fair.

 

Reassuring a few bystanders that I was ok, Erwan and I got my bike running again (apparently the poor machine was more shocked by the collision than I was and had temporarily stopped working). The cops faded away, realising there was no money to be made from this particular barang (white person) mishap. The reckless driver who hit me was long gone and, frankly, there was no reason to chase after him. In the grand scheme of things, it was a non-event.

 

As a side note, the only reason for my trip into town on that not-so-fateful day was to buy salad. Eating healthy almost killed me! Except I didn’t nearly die: that was just a statement for dramatic effect. Seriously, Mum and Dad, I’m fine.

 

The next morning, I dropped by my mechanic who reattached my wing mirror free of charge. I’ve decided to live with my snapped brake handle for a little longer as it still works perfectly well. My blue kneecap will be covered by long trousers or leggings for a few days.

 

That’s it. That is the story of my rite of passage: becoming a moto crash victim in Cambodia. Considering I’ve been here for three and a half years, the fact that I’ve never been robbed and, until this week, hadn’t been involved in any traffic collisions was something which made me rather unusual. Perhaps now I can truly be considered a local. When, in fact, I think I could more accurately be described as a careless barang who forgot to check her mirrors before turning. I should have known that indicating wasn’t enough!

 

Lesson learned, I’m back on the road. Getting back in the saddle wasn’t even a psychological hurdle. After all, I had salad ingredients to buy. And the cover image for this blog was taken after a 30km moto ride with my former flatmate, Fanny, to meet some climbing friends of hers. Confidence unaffected, I drive onwards.

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Nugget’s a wannabe biker kitty!
Christmas Dinner

Catch-Ups And Christmas

Christmas is a time for friends and family. When you only go back home once a year, this is the perfect time for a visit. I spent December in the UK catching up with friends and family, eating way too much and driving up and down the M4.

My trip started off with a few days at my brother’s in London with his wife and two children. As an absent aunt, it always takes a little while to reconnect but we had a great time together and it well and truly got me in the Christmas spirit. From our ice skating trip to attending the children’s school Christmas fair, complete with carols, I felt entirely festive by the time I set off to the first of two university reunions.

Family Ice Skating at Hampton Court
Family Ice Skating at Hampton Court

I’m very fortunate to be part of two groups of friends from both my undergrad and postgrad universities who are highly organised and meet up once a year. The first evening was with my Cardiff gang where we played Danish Secret Santa (Google it) and ventured out for dinner and drinks at Clapham’s answer to Winter Wonderland, aptly named Winterville.

Cardiff University Friends
Cardiff University Friends

Four days after I landed back in the UK, I was finally on my way to Devon where my parents live, after meeting up with a fellow Cambodian expat. Recognised by my dog and greeted with home-cooked food and a glass of wine, I could finally relax. Plus, the gift of an electric blanket allowed me to not freeze to death so that was a real bonus.

Throughout the month I was working full time which is awkward when you’re 11 hours behind your boss, with whom you work very closely. But we managed! My evenings were reserved for seeing friends from school and my childhood, catching up on our lives and falling comfortably back into old dynamics.

High School Friends
High School Friends

My second university reunion with my Warwick crew came the evening after my annual charity fundraiser. A three course meal and a night out to catch up with everyone I met during my postgrad studies.

Warwick University Friends
Warwick University Friends

The following day I walked around a snowy Clapham with Ruth, my closest friend from my university days. That evening I returned to my brother’s for an early Christmas and present giving.

The final trip was up to Oxfordshire to visit my horse and my friend who now looks after her. I miss riding terribly and it was great to get back in the saddle and hack through the fields, where snow still lay on the ground. Yes, I was freezing cold, even with fleecy socks which had been heated on the Aga.

Reunited With Melly
Reunited With Melly

The rest of my time in the UK was spent with high school friends and family, eating, watching TV, playing cards, hanging out and fundraising. SKOPE relies on donors from the UK and I returned to two Rotary Clubs who supported us last year and continue to be very generous. I updated them on our projects throughout the year, thanked them for their continued commitment and answered any questions they had. I also collected books which are going to be donated to my friend’s new library/school in her family’s village in Kampot.

Torquay Rotary Donation
Torquay Rotary Donation

With technology making communication so easy these days, I no longer have to tell everyone my life story of the year whenever I return. It’s nice to just be together as if no time has passed, enjoying our traditional Christmas festivities. From walks in the village to going to the beach to eating at our local pub, sometimes it feels like I’ve never been away. And yet, I have now been living in as an expat for three and a half years, with no plans to return to the UK permanently any time soon.

98 Years Going Strong
98 Years Going Strong

 

I’m now back in my beloved Cambodia where life is wonderfully familiar and yet full of surprises. Take Friday afternoon, for example. I was lying in my hammock when my Khmer neighbour casually beat a snake to death in front of my house, watched on by her three screaming children. Plot twist, this snake had fallen off the end of a stick which she had been carrying, walking from her own house to my other neighbours who are her in-laws. I’m presuming the journey was meant to culminate in some fantastic show and tell. Sadly for all involved, particularly the snake, the final presentation was far less impressive than it had been when first discovered and decidedly more gory. That said, I hate snakes and am glad there is one less of them living in my vicinity.

Please don’t let that put any of my friends or family reading this off coming to visit. It’s wonderful here. You’re all welcome at any time.

My new years resolution is to update this blog more frequently …

 

Kampot Countryside and Ricefields, Cambodia

Chapter Two – The Kampot Adventures

In less than two weeks, I will have been living in Cambodia for three years. Of course, my love affair with this wonderful, colourful, noisy, friendly, flawed yet utterly beautiful nation began over eleven years ago. For the past three years, I lived have in the bustling, busy, dirty, dusty and endlessly entertaining capital that is Phnom Penh. Until July 1st 2017. Now, I am a Pot-Pat and I’m not talking about marijuana. I have moved to Kampot; my favourite place on earth.

 

Kampot Countryside and Ricefields, Cambodia
Just a few minutes from my house

Firstly, I appreciate that considering this blog is supposed to keep friends and family updated on my life, I’m doing badly since it’s almost the second week in August. For those of you feeling out of the loop regarding my relocation, be comforted with the knowledge I Skyped my parents for the first time since June five days ago. That said, they knew all about the Pot-Plans.

 

Kampot is a town which has featured in more than a few of my past blogs (like this one, and this one, and this one, and this one, and this one, and this one, and this one). It’s my favourite place in Cambodia and being the sort of person I am, I decided to make my dream a reality and just move here. Of course, I am lucky now to have a job which I can do from anywhere (writing for a digital marketing agency, in case anyone missed that). So back to Kampot. It’s small, it’s sleepy, it’s full of colonial architecture, it’s friendly, it’s right on the river, it’s 30 minutes from the coast, my new house is seconds from open countryside, and the place is packed with delectable eateries. Basically, it’s heaven on earth.

 

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Sense from my balcony

My last blog was about the departure of my long-term flatmate and closest friend, Jordan. This shift in my life was one of the reasons behind my move. Admittedly, a life in Kampot had been on my mind for over a year so when Jordan announced her plans, it seemed as good a time as any to make the change. After three years and sixteen flatmates, many of who were fantastic and some of whom were … yeah, anyway, I decided I needed some time on my own. Well, with Nugget the cat, of course. And for one weekend, I was accompanied by my stellar moving crew (Jess even stayed with me for a full week to help settle me in!)

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MY amazing moving crew

 

I am now living like a queen in a beautiful three-bedroom house with Nugget in an eco-village, populated with long-time Pot-Pats. Seriously, people refer to themselves as that here. One bedroom doubles as an office and every Saturday is cleaning day. It’s like I’m an adult; rather disconcerting if I do say so myself. I’ve even learnt how to drive a moto; something I had been putting off doing in the city and am now discovering is not only easy but great fun and gives me the freedom to go off exploring the beautiful countryside whenever I like.

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Exploring on the moto

Nugget is loving her new life down here too. After two years as an indoor cat with the occasional escape attempt, she is now free to roam around in the quiet, safe, community garden, populated by mango trees and chickens. The latter of which scare her, by the way. She rarely strays far and has learnt to jump back into the safety of the house through the open window whenever next door’s puppy, Toby, appears to ‘play’.

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Outside Nugget

 

I plan to stay in Kampot for at least a year, with sporadic trips up to Phnom Penh required for work and social occasions. I’ve already been back once and admit it wasn’t the most enjoyable experience. I hadn’t realised how much I loved and had missed country living; the clean air, the slower pace of life, the peace and quiet. Now Phnom Penh just seems nosier, busier and dirtier than ever before. It was a relief to return to my little mansion (oxymoronic but accurate), close the door against the torrential monsoon rains (which Kampot is sadly suffering through the past few weeks due to the massive mountain between me and the ocean) and be alone.

 

I’m a social person but solitude is my closest friend right now. I need some time. I need to recuperate, recover, recharge. Phnom Penh took a lot out of me. It was a lot of fun, of course, but it was also a lot of drinking, a lot of near-death traffic experiences, a lot of dust and dirt and, sadly, a lot of goodbyes. The last one was the worse and I’m not ready to begin making new friends just yet. For now, a few months, perhaps, I need some me time. Well, me and Nugget time. I’m writing more than ever before (although admittedly not for this blog – sorry!), I’m eating healthily, I’m not drinking, I’m reading more books. I’m happy, frankly.

 

So, Kampot, thank you for giving me a new lease of life. I’m so glad I decided to move here and become a Pot-Pat. Here’s to the next twelve months of countryside adventures and rural delights.

 

Oh, and anyone who wants to come and visit, I have two spare bedrooms! Must like cats.

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Cambodian Catnip

As an expat, I’m more than used to friends coming and going. But some people become a more important, more significant and fundamentally irreplaceable part of your life than others and when these guys leave, blogs are written.

My amazing flatmate and best friend, Jordan, left Cambodia this morning after almost three years in the Kingdom of Wonder. I’d known Jordan for over two years and we’d been living together most of that time. With other flatmates coming and going in our apartment, the two of us have always been the staples in one another’s lives so I know my life will never be the same as of midday today.

Living with other people is hard so when you meet someone with whom sharing an apartment works, you hold onto them! Jordan and I had rather different work schedules for the first year but we seamlessly slipped into living together. Whether it was the fact that we have similar taste in food, television and what we like to do with our free time or a combination of all three, I’m not sure. All I know is that the moment I walked back into the house this afternoon after dropping Jordan at the airport, I knew it would never feel like home again.

Although we’re very different people, Jordan and I shared a lot over the past few years. Whether it was our many nights out, during which she would befriend every single bar tender in each bar we went into. Or our Sunday ritual of watching an obscene amount of television lying in my bed. And our evening snacks of fruit salads and Smurf Haribo. Last but not least of course there’s dodgeball. The bi-weekly staple which our schedules revolved around where we made our closest friends and had some of our heartiest laughs. Basically, everything I enjoy doing in Cambodia is something which will now remind me of Jordan. It doesn’t mean I won’t still do these things – I’ll just make me sad when I remember that my friend is no longer by my side.

You may be wondering about the title of this blog. I call Jordan “Catnip for Khmers”. Basically, everyone here loves her. Although a recent trip to Vietnam reveals that a better term may be “Catnip for South East Asia”. Simply put, Jordan is a people person in the most incredible, bizarre and occasionally hilarious way possible. Anyone who has met Jordan will be able to relate to this. There’s something about her, something I jokingly refer to as pheromones but it’s more than that. Everyone loves Jordan from the moment they meet her. I think it’s to do with her personality, the way she presents herself as warm, friendly and welcoming, her genuine smile and the simple fact that she is accepting and open to everyone. Jordan makes people feel welcome and takes a real interest in everyone she meets. The way she interacts is quite simply intoxicating and she forms meaningful connections quicker than anyone I have ever met. That said, she has also been known to make friends with a car full of Khmers while we’ve been sat in a tuk tuk at the traffic lights. And if you leave her alone at the bar for five minutes, by the time you come back she’ll be friends with all of the workers on Facebook and making plans to visit their families in the province. It’s a curse, a gift, whatever you want to call it. Personally, I think it’s a testament to the kind of person Jordan is and I’m honoured to have been her friend for the past two years. Catnip or not, she’s certainly someone I want to have in my life for the foreseeable future.

And now I’m sat in my empty house, having taken sole custody of the cat Jordan and I shared. It’s weird. It’s quiet. I still feel like she’s about to walk through the door. And yet she won’t. She won’t walk back into the apartment and ask me what TV episode we’ve got to watch next and play hide and seek with Nugget (the cat) and help me cut up fruit for our evening snack. Jordan will come back to Cambodia, of that I’m sure. She has made so many close Khmer friends here and I know she will be back here to see them (and me) soon enough. Except it’s not soon enough. It would only be soon enough if she had appeared while I was writing this blog. I just checked. She hasn’t. But Nugget is sleeping on her bed, the room bare once more, wondering when her owner is going to come back and cheer up the other owner who’s been lying on her bed crying for half the afternoon.

So in an attempt to cheer myself up, I went through my photos for this blog. I have many photos of Jordan, mostly cuddling random animals or ridiculous hair after she’s been lying in my bed all day. I didn’t post all of them because I do want this friendship to survive now she’s back in the States (and it’s always good to have blackmail material). But for those of you missing Jordan, I hope the below photos put a smile on your face, like they did me.

Jordan, wherever you are, know that you’re loved and missed and always, always welcome back in the Kingdom of Wonder. The best of luck with your return to the US. I’m so proud of you for getting into grad school and I can’t wait to hear all about it. And in return, I will send you daily photos of Nugget.

I had to split the photos into three sets:

  • Jordan and me/other people
  • Jordan and Nugget/other animals
  • Jordan being generally adorable!

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You’re one in a million, my love. Never change x

That Time I Built A Library … With A Little Help

Well, 2017 began pretty fantastically for me. My charity built a library! Yes, an entire library. And all for just $1300. That includes construction, books, and the solar panel which allows the kids to, theoretically, have access 24/7 to their new education area. It amazes me how much further money can go in South East Asia and this project just goes to show that good, generous people are still on this planet. Sadly, they’re not pursuing a career in politics…

Back to that library, however. I travelled out on Friday to a village in Kampong Speu where Karuna Youth Cambodia, a fellow NGO, have a school. I had been a week earlier to drop off our latest volunteers, Emma and Reece, who are part way through a five week stint teaching at the school and living in the rainbow house. The day before I had received a shipment of 100 kg of books from England, which DHL had couriered door to door for free (seriously – you don’t ask, you don’t get). So I brought with me these books plus those donated by Paññāsāstra University of Cambodia and one of SKOPE’s new supporters, Association of School Aid in Cambodia (ASAC). That evening, powered by beer, Emma, Reece and I coded about 400 English books. We did the other 200 the following evening!

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Onto the build. Well, let’s be honest I’m not a builder but luckily some men in the village are. A father of some children at the school is a carpenter and he took the reins when it came to directing the construction process, particularly the wooden frame. About eight men worked tirelessly for two full days, completely voluntarily, and constructed our library. It’s only three metres square but that’s still quite a feat. Emma, Reece and I tried to help where we could but when it came to hammering with the flat end of an axe, we decided we’d rather not lose an ear.

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That Sunday saw the arrival of some Sovann Komar kids, handpicked to be the ones who always get stuck in on projects with SKOPE. Because we really needed their help. The walls weren’t entirely up by the time they reached the school but we began painting anyway. Despite me telling them explicitly not to wear their nice clothes, many of them ended up shirtless and splattered in orange. I am still finding orange smears of paint on me and it’s been over a week since I left!

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We ate a delicious lunch cooked by the villagers and then headed down to a beautiful area of the village by the river where the Sovann Komar kids decided to go exploring upstream. Upon returning to the school, the kids were set to work clearing a newly acquired strip of land which KYC will build a volleyball court and football pitch on. Their earlier painting task wasn’t completed but the men were working on the roof with electric saws and we decided against jeopardising anyone’s life.

After the Sovann Komar children left, the roof quickly finished so Reece, Emma, myself and a load of the local children got stuck into painting and by sundown on Sunday evening, the library was up!

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Sadly, I had to leave the next day to get back to Phnom Penh and work but thanks to the headteacher, Phearith, I was still able to keep up to date of all the happenings with his amazing videos. Which, naturally, I’ve turned into a story of the weekend, along with my own footage. Watch it here now! The following week saw a concrete floor poured and levelled, shelves built, walls decorated, and the solar panel fitted. As luck would have it, Reece is a fully qualified electrician so he was incredibly useful at this stage. Now, in typical Khmer logic style, we had chosen to construct the library under a tree to stop the building getting too hot during the dry season. But if the sun can’t get to the roof, it can’t get to the solar panel. Not to worry! Reece put it on the roof of the adjacent school building which is south facing and ran a wire the short distance across. Voila! Light!

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I love all the work I do with SKOPE but this was by far and away the best project we have ever done. I don’t know if it’s because I love reading so much or because language and writing is so important to me personally but I am quite literally overcome with emotion when I see pictures and videos of what we’ve accomplished out in that tiny village. Those children now have the opportunity to truly learn. Their exposure levels to English went from one Doctor Seuss book and a few Khmer ones to 700 English language titles and 120 Khmer language books in the space of a week. And already it’s clear they’re hungry for knowledge. Thanks to Emma and Reece’s prolonged presence, as well, these children are not only picking up the language quickly but wanting to learn more, study harder and succeed in life. I hope with the support of KYC and SKOPE, they will!

Here’s another link to the video I made – can you tell I’m proud of it?

If you’re interested in donating to SKOPE’s next project, contact me at skopecambodia@gmail.com or leave a comment on this blog and I’ll get back to you. Alternatively you can visit the SKOPE website by clicking here.

The Sun Sets On Another Year

After the year we’ve had, I think most people are looking forward to waving a firm goodbye to 2016 and welcoming 2017 with open arms. I mean, it can’t get any worse can it? Brexit and Trump, the war in Syria, mass shootings, terrorist attacks, the loss of Alan Rickman, David Bowie, Prince, Victoria Wood, Muhammad Ali, Elie Wiesel, Gene Wilder, Leonard Cohen, and then in the final few days a flurry of George Michael, Richard Adams, Carrie Fisher, and Debbie Reynolds. I don’t usually swear on my blog but I think at this point it’s fair to say “2016, fuck off!”

And yet … it’s not been all bad. Ok, it’s been pretty terrible but a few good things did happen in 2016. They may have passed you by, buried beneath headlines about Brexit and the American election and nuclear weapons and Syria and the refugee crisis but they’ve been there. So I’m returning to my usual happy self and reminding you of ten happy events of 2016 to restore some faith in our planet and humankind.

10. Ebola was cleared from West Africa.

9. 200 strangers went to the funeral of a homeless World War II veteran with no family.

8. Humpback whales, grizzly bears, manatees, and giant pandas all moved (positively) up the endangered list.

7. 800 of the Boko Harem hostages were rescued and returned to their families.

6. The hole in the ozone layer has shrunk by 3.9 million square kilometres in the past ten years

5. Volunteers in India planted 50 million trees in 24 hours.

4. Scientific breakthroughs in chemotherapy are increasing survival rates.

3. The Paris climate change agreement became international law in November.

2. The worldwide charitable drive for ALS in 2014 has led to scientists isolating the gene responsible and they have begun to work on a therapy.

1. Charitable giving and acts saw a significant increase worldwide.

Of course, the last one is a subject particularly close to my heart. I doubt I can claim my own charity, SKOPE, had much to do with the increase in charity across the globe but I’m proud to have been part of it. Both in my role as SKOPE coordinator and as a happiness ambassador to More Good Deeds, I read a lot about giving to charity, philanthropy, and how to involve people in charitable works. But it seems I needn’t bother, because everywhere you look there are signs of generosity, both financial and in other ways. Giving your time, your energy, your commitment, and your money all help charities. With politics in turmoil across the globe, it is down to us, the little people, to do that work on the ground. Whether in refugee camps ladling out soup each morning, or in medical tents outside obliterated cities like Aleppo, or even my own charity, handing out library books or stationary in a school in Cambodia, it all matters. It all makes a difference. And every one of us can get involved.

So let’s end 2016 on a positive note and look forward to 2017 with hope in our hearts. After all, it can only go up from here! I hope every one of you has a great time celebrating New Year’s Eve tonight and I’ll see you on the other side.

More Good Deeds

Over the past few months I have started working as a freelance writer and my newest employer perfectly aligns my two passions – writing and charity work. More Good Deeds is an Australian-based initiative whose sole aim is to promote acts of kindness around the world. I began as a blogger for this kindness platform and thanks to the generosity and, yes, kindness of my new boss, have been able to use this work to support SKOPE. Let me tell you a little bit more about More Good Deeds.

Established in 2013, More Good Deeds believes everyone has not only the ability to do good but also the power to spread kindness. There is a psychological term, the law of reciprocity, which basically proves that humans are innately programmed to do something nice when they themselves have experienced or witnessed a kind act. It’s the simple ‘give and take’ theory. So if we help someone carry their shopping bags at the train station, that person is more likely to do something else kind for someone in the future, inspired by our own kindness.

More Good Deeds have an app, on which users can post their own good deeds, give thanks to people who showed kindness to them, gain followers, start chains of kindness, and generally put a smile on their faces. Because in today’s world it can be hard to remember there are still good people in the world. With the news being so, frankly, awful every single day, a little ray of sunshine such as the one More Good Deeds shone into my life is a blessed, wonderful, relief!

But More Good Deeds go a step further. For every ‘good deed’ their users do, businesses and companies donate $1 to the user’s chosen charity. Cool, right? What’s even cooler is they’ve put SKOPE on their charity list. So it’s now easier than ever for you to support SKOPE! Simply download the app, select SKOPE as your chosen charity, and then post every time you do a good deed. An example of a good deed might be: giving up your seat for a person on the bus, helping someone cross the road, donating to a charity yourself, or giving someone your parking ticket which still has time left on it. Each time you do something good, SKOPE will get $1 and you’ll get a warm and fuzzy feeling from being nice. Everyone wins.

So please spread the word, share the kindness, and support SKOPE and, theoretically, the other charities which More Good Deeds promote! Download their app here: iTunes – more good deeds

Go, do, experience. More Good Deeds.