I cried on Wednesday

I cried on Wednesday and I haven't the foggiest idea why. So I thought it'd be a good idea to write about it and try to work out why. As most of you know I have my normal work in the morning and generally every Mon-Wed-Fri afternoon I go to work at the volunteer school for a couple of hours teaching English to high schoolers. So far I have enjoyed every minute of this and don't tell my boss but I much prefer working there than at my school with a salary. Every minute is filled with laughter and joy and stress-free. If I could bottle up that positive energy these guys give off I'd be a millionaire. The class I teach already know a fair amount of English so although there's no seen progress I always feel as though they learn something every lesson. They might not, I don't know.

Anyhow that's the basic run down of my volunteer school. I mean I could write about the students for hours with all their niches. So back to the crying.

An old volunteer came back after not being there for two years. So to her all the students have grown up. The students haven't been coming in on time much due, to studying in extra classes, so I got talking to this volunteer and she seemed nice and she said she had presents to give. So we were waiting for them together in the classroom. Then two of the students with the brightest outlook on life, that are right peas in a pod as well, arrived. They remembered the new/old volunteer and with that there was a heartwarming moment of the three. She then gave them these gifts. Just two lunchboxes for 15 and 16 year olds. Probably not much use for them. But you know what? I teared up. I couldn't look at them but they worked out what was happening. I left the room and went to the toilet and ugly cried for about 15 minutes. Incredulous at myself for being so emotionally weak. I calmed down went back to the room and everytime I thought about it I got all teary eyed again. Then more students came a bit later and she gave them books as well. I was more prepared for this and only got a little bit weepy. The effect of this was me feeling all diminishing for the rest of the day and shaky.

This is still playing on my mind and has been for the last couple of days. Any idle moments I sit and wonder why? Now this is an unusual occurrence for me. Last time I cried for something that was happening in real life (i'm discounting movies) was about 7 years ago when my Grandad died. I understand why it was strange as it has been a length of time since I have cried. However I can't fathom as to what struck the chord, what lit the match, what made me blub like a little girl. I have spoken to people close to me to try and work out as to why and I think it's an amalgamation of many factors of the following:
Emotional weakness due to being sick. Last week I was very sick and in hospital. Getting an injection in the bottom for a stomach infection.

Although I was feeling better, it may take longer to become more resistant to the poverty again. The amount of it I see on the daily is mind blowing and becoming resistant to it is part of life here. Much like our ignorance to the homeless in England. That Wednesday morning I ignored a beggar that I wish I hadn't.  I was with the private school children and had just been given a free water by one of the workers of the place we were at. I ignored him. Why? I don't know. I rarely ignore them and more often than not give money. Their lives are mind blowingly difficult and being unacknowledged as human by me ignoring him just adds to it. I really wish I could go back and just look at him and shake my head. Even better would have been me giving him the water on a hot day like it was. I'm a role model to these kids they're very privileged. They need to see these moments of human kindness between people. So that when they're in control of the money they can do some good beause they saw their teacher do it when they were younger. Now all they saw is me dehumanising a beggar. I wish I could slap that version of me in the bus and give him some sense. So then the afternoon happened and it added together to create what happened.

It could be my love of Cambodia. Cliché, I know. I have taken a lesser salary just so I can go and work at another place for free. I could easily go make more money taking on tutoring and working at places to earn. However I don't want to. I want to help and then seeing someone else who has had the forethought and cared enough to spend money on children that aren't hers. It was a physical representation of what I was doing with my time. She spent money, I spent time. And amongst all this poverty that I see; there was this woman who was was a reflection of me essentially. Just doing something for the love of it rather than the reward. It was such a smack-in-the-face realisation. About how much I care for these people, this country, these students that in the moment of clarity I was a punctured balloon. The tears came I patched it back up and hopefully I can improve as a person because of it.

I think also the fact she was remembered added to it. The definition of success to me is:  "To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded. " So for me her being remembered because she had made 'a life breathe easier' was huge she had achieved my success. It's what I'm selfishly chasing. I want to effect people enough that they remember me and tell others about the time their teacher got through to them with English or something of the like.

As I've been writing this it's finally relaxed me which is what I wanted. What made me cry was the fact that she was remembered, something I want, then also the realisation of how much I actually care about everyone of these children. Due to me not being an outwardly emotional person. It hit me in the face. I do care and not just that, I care a lot and I do want to be remembered by them and care about what they have. I want them to have enough on their plate every night. I want them to be happy, safe and healthy. This person giving them something made me realise this but at the same time that they are poor and sometimes don't have enough and giving them something as simple as a lunch box, just set off this chain reaction of realisations that were unyet known to me and set me crying. I'm so glad I've written this and I can rest easy now for my Chinese New Year break. Phew.

Link:https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Wd-4XkEZQgw

Better days

Another week swims past in this river of life. The flow went one way and I went the other. I was sick, well, violently sick, just getting over it in fact. In my delirium I sat and wondered what could I write about. Be it a story about me and my motorbike/scooter/moto? Give flavour to the many lost in translation stories I have posted on facebook of which I have many to do. Although I suppose I have many stories because that's what life is. A collection of stories and chapters until the big book closes and we call it life. I know this current volume would be called 'Cambodia' and this past week would be entitled 'Sickness'.

It started with me eating some food from the market which is a normal tendency for a cheapskate like me. They didn't have any of the super scrumptious stuff so I went for one of the lesser chosen ones. Pork and some unknown vegetable. It tasted a bit weird whilst eating but, of course, you eat it anyway. Next day was a Friday and I complained about feeling funny. Come Saturday all hell broke loose. I'll spare you the details but I saw the back of one door. A lot. Obviously I slept a lot to try to recover. This led to me passing out and waking up in the darkness. So to try to fall back asleep I went to go and get some water. This meant creeping past my roommates room. I came back to my room and tried to go to sleep. Although I couldn't thanks to a load of children outside my flat screaming and playing in the street, at what must have been midnight or beyond. I was furious at the parents for being so neglectful to their children at this hour. I couldn't sleep so i decided to read a bit to calm the mind and wait for the children to go back inside. About half an hour later they were shepherded back into their respective pens. Peace and quiet, I could finally sleep. I just decided to check the time before I went back to sleep and make a mental note to tell anyone about this children who were outside playing at .... half past seven pm. My roommate wasn't even home yet! I'm putting it down to sickness that I didn't check one of my many electrical devices for the time.

This got me thinking when else have I been sick and been stupid. Although this time it wasn't my fault as such. To set the scene, in Asia they tend to overhire staff so that people have jobs, pharmacies tend to be one of these places. I went into a pharmacy to get some medicine for a runny tummy. Pharmacies in Cambodia tend to hire pretty girls for some reason. I manage to wrangle the owner's attention and call her over. The owner was an old plump lady.  No-one else was now being served by any of the pretty calls working there so they all came over to listen to what was my ailment much to my annoyance. There they stood, watching, listening. There I stood with my runny tummy. So I, with my best Hugh Grant impression quietly said 'I...uh,...umm....ate...some...uh...bad....food.' Hoping this lady would clue into the situation. She clued in alright just not how I expected. She paused, focused and like a tiger before a meal, licked her lips and loudly replied 'Diarrhea?' I turned a shade of beetroot, she feasted off of my embarrassment, got her fill and then some. I rapidly paid ( I hasten to add, I've never been quicker with correct change. Not before or since.)  and left the shop in a haze of embarrassment.

Anyway enjoy those, I'm finally better with some antibiotics from the doctor. The only problem is my right foot a la Christy brown; so I still can't play football, 6 months and counting. Hopefully it's better soon.

Song of the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DKVrVAA7E7I

New year, new blog

I've made the decision to come back to England because I've been enjoying teaching so much, I know it's what I want to do in life. In the process of applying for university I said I write a blog and have my own style of writing, whatever that is. However knowing I said this I feel it is necessary for me to at least try to pick it back up again. Hopefully in the coming months I will be able to write a little bit more frequently about life out here.

Since it's been over half a year since I wrote a blog. I'd like to say why. Mainly it's because I haven't had the inspiration nor the interest to write about life out here. Although since my recent trip back to England for Christmas, it became glaringly obvious how much I had assimilated into life in Cambodia. Things that are normal for me, just aren't normal for others.  I would like to try and write about those things no matter how long or short. Although this blog will mainly be about my teaching over the past couple of months.

Phnom Penh's consistently long dusty days that drift lazily by; me drifting with them. My only anchors being work and volunteering. My work starts as it always does in the cool mornings at 7.30 and finishes at the peak of the heat at 12. This, of course, runs from Monday to Friday. It's never a fight for me to get out of bed in the morning. The only fight I deal with on a regular basis is the one of chiselling children into  being perfect sculptures with all those perfect human imperfections. Half way through the year I have been pleased with how my sculpting has gone.

I was first enticed by the job because when it was first offered, apart from it being part time, was that the children really do become mirrors of yourself. This thought interested me and it pushed me towards accepting the job. Having now had 6 months on the job I can honestly say that they have. To show that I have 3 stories.

1. One day, I saw a student arriving at school. I quickly ran into the classroom and made all the children play dead. This went well and everyone played it to a tee. The student came in and after a while everyone started laughing. Now I didn't think much of it until a month and a half later. I quickly nipped out to get something from the office and returned to all of my children pulling the same prank on me. Couldn't believe it! Cheeky wotsits.

2.I was sat enjoying my breakfast (rice and pork) one morning when a student came up to me. He saw my food. Took a bit of pork. At this moment, may I just say I was sat gobsmacked in the fact that this student had had the gall to take some food and then jokingly put it back. But then he didn't put it back, he ate it with the smuggest smile i'd ever seen. He then left. Not one word had passed in this interaction. I couldn't say anything out of pure dumbfoundedness. Boundary pushing cheeky wotsits these children are.

3. For Christmas, my brother bought me a lovely pen set. I told the children to keep their 'dirty mitts off of them because they'll break them.' This past week I left them out in the classroom for break time, not too bothered as the children would more than likely leave them alone. At snack time a bit later on, I came out to check on them and a child came up to me and said 'Your pen broke.' I was perturbed to say the least. My reply came sharply 'Who did it? I knew I should have put them away!' The student then went on to say 'only joking!' Then off she scampered confidently.

So not only are my students boundary pushing and cheeky wotsits. They're lying boundary pushing cheeky wotsits that I love dearly and will miss upon my return to England next year.

Link of the day : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ksJ6QP8BYn0

What makes you do it?

Why do you get out the bed in the morning? What makes you do it? Two questions possibly coming from a person who is too young to ask them. At twenty i'm possibly only just a quarter of the way through life and yet i ask myself these questions. Are you doing something worthwhile with your time? Is this going to bite you in the butt when you're 80 and on your deathbed. Are you going to be asking yourself why did i waste so much time doing that?

I came out to Cambodia to try to find some answers to those questions because i felt as though i wasn't mature enough academically for university and i didn't want to plunge myself into debt on a major that i just wasn't cut out for. So i set out to come here and try to mature in a self-imposed exile in a country that i had visited and loved. What i didn't reckon on was the fact i like this independence, that if i don't want to do something i don't have to do it, but on the other hand it's not going to get done if i don't do it. I have to answer to myself and others if i let them down. I'm sure this is how many people of my age feel when they're in university and are now back at home and once again feel trapped and under the constant gaze of their parents.

Recently my sister came out to visit and then my father and i began to feel this feeling of being trapped again. However wonderful it was to see them it was a familiar mixture of homesickness, familiarity and what i have now come to understand was depression. When in England i would have probably been diagnosed with depression of some sort by a clinical psychologist. I wasn't going out much, i didn't do much other than play games and i wasn't being stimulated enough mentally. I'll never forget my brother saying that when he comes home i would never shut up. Mainly due to finally having someone to talk to or entertain me.  So when my sister and father came i wasn't depressed all of a sudden, however after a couple of days there was certain lethargy in me. Which wasn't great and i know that this is something that will come up again if i live in England.

So that's why i did it. 

That's why i left. To get away from this, to change, to grow and become better.

What keeps me out here is the children. Not the little ones at my proper school but the ones at my volunteer school. I have changed my job within the school to be part time and be a homeroom teacher which means i teach more subjects rather than just English. I have done this for three days now and have enjoyed the teaching, maybe not so much in other areas, but originally my biggest worry  was my ability to teach the children but this so far hasn't been a problem. So now, i have afternoons off i go to teach at my volunteer school.  It is so good. It's such a release and help to myself to be able to do it. No paperwork, no internal office problems just straight up teaching and helping.

Up until recently what made me tick was football and to some degree it still does. However because of niggling injuries and constant problems it has taken a back seat. This made me upset because i can't play and i was down in the dumps. However it has now been replaced by these children. I hope someday that my peers finds this feeling that i have. It's like having a bottle and every time you drink from it, you are lifted three inches off the ground and stand that much taller and smile that much wider. It's beautiful.

So that is why i am out here, i have found the reason to still be here.

Yet there's this problem of not having a university degree from England. Something that i have looked into rectifying. One solution is by doing a university course here (some are available in English) however the one i liked is no longer being taught and psychology (second choice) i'm just not that interested in. So i looked at UCAS and some courses caught my eye of English and teaching intertwined but i wouldn't be able to teach in England, only abroad. I could home study from the Open University but the courses aren't great and there isn't much support for fees. Am i ready for uni back in England? Possibly, but do i want to go back to England? I'm unsure. It's such a shame that i am being limited over what is essentially a piece of paper.

Due to some problems i had at work, i have already written a resignation letter. Whether i'm jumping the gun, i don't know but if i stop working here, is that an opportune moment to leave Cambodia and come back for a few years? However the feeling after teaching those special, wonderful children meant i lost all desire to leave this country. Maybe i'kk make a u-turn on that psychology degree? However i do know i would be ripping my heart in two if i left here and didn't see those children again and in fact many of the wonderful people that i have met.

So what will i do? I honestly haven't got a clue. But i do know i'll do it my way. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6E2hYDIFDIU

Rock for Kampuchea 1980

Do you remember this concert, 4 nights at Hammersmith Odeon with Paul McCartney leading the way with the Who, Clash and others raising money for impoverished Cambodia? Seems such a long time ago I watched this concert at home one late evening, above all it raised awareness among young people to the plight of poor Cambodia, embellished later in the mid eighties with the movie 'The Killing Fields' which I managed to see upon it's immediate release and its very moving ending.  I never thought I would be visiting this little Asian country 4 times in 6 years.

Cambodia, is sandwiched between Thailand and Vietnam and consequently is the most delicious filling in that sandwich.  The people are welcoming, able to speak some english, and often fluently, and courteous to their visitors, which is more than can be said of it's neighbours, and I still believe the people here are absolutely lovely and for this reason it is understandable why people return, or even linger like our Greg.

Since my first visit in 2010, the rate of change cannot go unnoticed. For example, on my first trip I had to cross a river by pontoon on my bus to head towards Vietnam, and was the same in 2012, now there is a splendid suspension bridge, not quite like the Marne Valley in France, but none-the-less marked progress changing lives. Greg assures me the built the Aeon shopping mall in one year, a huge investment, catering for shopping, ice skating, bowling and the like.

However, regardless of this, if you are a foodie, there is something for your palate, Spanish, French, American, even Costa coffee, but not seen it's adversary Starbucks. Burger King, but not McDonalds, Dominoes but not Pizza hut.

So a country changing so much, but despite this, poverty is still here, among these millionaires, children still beg, schools are over crowded and have two sittings in a day to accommodate them all, but hospital wings and new high tech buildings get built and remain empty, there's only one post office for the city - or so it seems, so money talks as ever even in impoverished Cambodia.

After such a soapbox introduction, what's Greg up to? I spent most of my time at Phnom Penh Sports Club reading and sleeping away the days whilst Greg went to work, a bit of a novelty, parent sees kid off to work whilst parent does SFA.

Naturally we played football as promised, first on concrete, my rickety bones only got two minutes and Greg was in goal, undeterred, we made a twenty minute journey to another game. Well everything was fine until, until, my knee decided to crumple on me, same injury for last 10 years I guess, but I gamely continued until it happened again, thoughts of hanging my boots up did enter my head. But mum knows I should stop, but she also knows I can't give in. However, this was not the most worrying issue, Greg's ankle was tender once again. A day later and he's wearing a protective boot for his ligament injury, game over or so I thought. No chance, on to the next evening to see his team which became cup winners and guess what? Game on! Barefooted I played, easy, no reaction and played quite well until I sat down and had the ball booted into my face from one metre away, ouch, cue nosebleed and sore nose and head.

Greg and I have not had our customary adventure, but instead shared our continued healthy father/son relationship and had our heated debates, more from my concern over his welfare and health given what I and he had experienced in just three days. But overall he is at ease in these surroundings and that I am pleased. This I completely understand as I puttered along in my tuk tuk to the sports club.

Phnom Penh is a delight, limited in scope for museums once you've seen the Killing Fields stuff, which everyone must do on a visit here, just as we should never forget our soldiers of the first and second world wars, but for someone who wishes to live here and work, it is very easy to navigate life. The food, coffee shops, and bustling markets are entertainment in themselves, plus we will be off to the casino later like a pair of male Thelma and Louise's without the car crash.

She Came, She Saw, She Sweated

Emily came out to see me for two weeks this past month. We didn't do much as two weeks isn't a lot however we tried to do some.

She arrived on the 18th June, a reunion marred by a bit of rain that cleared up when she came through the arrival gates. I was so elated to see her again although to be honest it has only been 6 months since I had seen her previously. Immediately we got onto a tuk tuk and got out of there and back to my house. As soon as wifi was set up on the ipads that was it. A return to normality of not looking at each other and grunting in answer to questions. I am joking of course but even if it was slightly like this I didn't mind because my sister was sitting across from me! How fantastic to be able to reach out and touch a member of my family. That endless longing that most of us have for our family was filled once again by my sister this time.

I took her out on my moto upto the riverside (with her clinging to my back with dagger like fingers and shrieks of worry) and we had a happy hour cocktail on a rooftop bar which was devoured quickly and then we went to eat at a restaurant i favour. With Emily experiencing a bit of Cambodia for the first time with many shouts of 'tuk tuk!' 'weed lady' 'money please' 'you want to buy book?' All these things that are generally normal for me but for her it was a bit of a head turner i think. In the sense she's experienced people asking for money and peddling their wares but not in such an intense in your face way. I'm sure Cambodia isn't the worst at it nor is it the best but i love it all the same. So it was a long evening of catching up with her and then settling down to sleep.

On Friday, i worked and she went to see the atrocities. Which Emily said were horrible of course, it's hard to put into words how you feel when you see a tree that people used to swing babies against all the while listening to stories about how people survived or died. Truly horrific. After she had finished her day off with a little shopping at the Russian Market she came to my school and waited for me to finish teaching at my school's kindergarten.

We went home and changed put some clothes in a bag and went with Shaola and her boyfriend in a private car to Kampot they were staying for the weekend we were kicking about for a week or so. So we stayed at the same hotel i did previously which was nice to see those folks again and get a slightly better price. We arrived fairly late so went to eat and came back to bed.

The next day it was okay so we went to the local sights of a pepper field, a cave temple that was traversed in flip flops and no hard hat can't imagine doing that in England. It was nice morning with a plan to return and retire to the pool. This plan was destroyed by the rain.... something that would become a reoccurring nuisance. So we spent the afternoon inside watching movies and planning. Whilst also rueing the fact we could have staying in 34 degree heat in Phnom Penh. Never mind.

We woke up with a determined attitude to get up Bokor Mountain on our rented moto. This was a silly decision and i'd like to say we thought about it some more and decided to stay in the room dry and warm. However the determination and competitiveness in us drove us up that damn mountain. In biting wind and lashing rain we got to the top and couldn't even see the 5 star resort from 50 metres away because of the cloud and fog we were in. Parked up and got inside. I just mentioned to Emily i wanted to move the moto to a more sheltered position you stay here. So there i go off running to move it. I return to her having photos and being chattered about. Some Vietnamese or Chinese i haven't quite decided took a liking to Emily's nose size. With that they touched it and also thought to take photos with her because of this rarity. So i return from the rain and there she is being treated like a bleedin' celebrity. Camera flashes and a crowd around her. We meandered around the casino even gambled a little and broke even. Dried off a bit and then decided there was no point seeing the other attractions in this fog as you wouldn't be able to take any photos or even see them! So it was time to go back down the oversized hill. It brightened up slightly and we stopped to take a picture of the view, as Emily got back on the moto there was a huge crack of thunder and we were off faster than the speed of sound as the rain returned with a vengeance and the wind with a vendetta. As we got back to ground level we looked back and worked out what happened. At the top and where Emily took the photo we were above the cloud. As we came lower down we were below and so it rained on us. This is what you get when you come in rainy season.

We decided there was no point in staying in Kampot so thought it best to move onto Sihanoukville. This was a good idea that once again was spoilt by rain. So instead of sitting on the beautiful beaches we had a day watching movies and an afternoon seeing a pagoda with the strangest monks i have ever met. With the evening filled with a fire show, we drunk a bit and ate a lot. On our last night there was a huge rain storm which solidified our plan to return to the heat of Phnom Penh.

A short bus trip later we were back and by a pool. That was how the rest of the week laid itself out, market, palace, pool. It was pretty nice to be honest and i'm sure Emily was pleased to be finally getting her sought after sun tan. I even got to take her to my volunteer school which was slightly selfish as it was more for me than her but at least she got to see the kids i taught and saw how it worked slightly and hopefully understood why i want to go back there.

On the Monday she was off to Siem Reap to see the temples. I can't tell you much about this because i was working but she enjoyed them and of course got a bit templed out after a while but that can't be helped when it's the main attraction in Siem Reap. She returned on the friday we had a lovely meal and she paid for the desert as a birthday present to me. Then on Saturday 4th, she was going back to England. So a small climbing excursion at a kidszone type thing which was enjoyed. Then lunch and off to the airport. That was it. Two weeks over in a flash and she was gone. Although she seemed to have malted most of her hair onto my floor so at least there was that remaining memory of cleaning it up. Other than the rain, the wind, the hair, money, travel times we had a great time together and it was lovely to see her again and can't wait for her to return at some point in the future!

Link of the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIYiGA_rIls Unfortunately we couldn't do much of this,..

One Year on

Wow, how quick has that gone. Unbelievable. 20th May 2014 I left England with hope and trepidation. So far the trepidation has gone, the hope is still here but most of all it is excitement and happiness. I can't believe how much has changed in 365 days.

In the first couple of months i was staying in the guesthouse which was no problem and working in the volunteer school. This was also the start of getting used to the diet, the people, the weather, the culture and the city. The hardest was probably the diet. For 18 years i have eaten potatoes, bread and cereal. This was turned upside down when it became rice, rice and beef or pork. It was a gradual transition to enjoying but it makes so much sense now. Before it was to fit in and save money. Now it's a staple part of my diet with me rarely going out my way to find western food unless it's cheap or chocolate. The rice in the morning fills me up until 12:00 or 12:30. If i have cereal, that will only fill me until  11 or 11:30 and i'll want to eat again or have a snack. So now it's all rice or noodles.

The people were no problem at all so welcoming and lovely which is why i love this country anyway. The weather can sometimes be too hot which is not much of a complaint compared to England's grey weather. The city is pretty easy considering it's got big avenues and numbered streets so I learnt it pretty quickly, it's a lot easier than London to say the least! The culture, i'm still learning and i find it fascinating and love learning more all the time. Like just recently i found out they have another language within their language! For example i knew that they have language if they ever talk to the king, another language for speaking with monks and recently i learnt they have rhyming language a bit like cockney rhyming slang. Which is another step up from just learning the base language!

The language on the other hand, i'm still coming to grips with. I've just started having lessons two weeks ago and the teacher thinks some of my vocabulary and idioms are very good for a foreigner. This is probably due to me hanging out with my khmer friends and picking up the local slang rather than the polite 'correct' way to speak that the locals don't actually use but foreigners learn. So i'm pretty happy with my small grasp of it. My teacher has just been teaching me the basics that i completely missed such as food, colours, objects, basic nouns and verbs that are needed and helping me with my pronunciation. So far, so good.  

Then in August, i got a job at a primary school which if you have read has been pretty good experience so far and i have learnt so much. It has been really great to watch these children grow and develop and use words that you have taught them! Especially in the kindergarten! We recently had a run through in kindergarten of our 'family day' celebration and my K1 and K2 looked so grown up compared to N1 and N2. Especially K2 as they are nearly in P1. It made me proud to see these children maturing. All the way through from K1 to P4 they have really calmed and matured and become better than when i first started teaching them.

Every once in a while i would reflect what i was doing in the time last year and I'd think how much has changed. From working in customer service in Uxbridge and living in Chalfont St Peter to then move to London and commute to Uxbridge every day. Playing football every once in a while. To then helping educate poor children and then educating well off children and then moving into my own apartment at 19! Playing football every day. It truly is bliss. Never in a million years would i think i would have a job, house and be master of ceremonies for the second for my schools family day celebration next week!

 If i could change one thing it would be being able to survive whilst educating the poorer children of Cambodia. I really want to help my old volunteer school with their students, it's been documented that it is not good for the children to be constantly forming connections with teachers and then the teacher suddenly disappearing and changing. Plus it means they are always learning the same thing over and over. Not actually developing their understanding of English. Even though i only have one year's experience i really think i could help them. Although i would be working for free... so it's 

trying to work out a way to work there and live.

So what will the next year bring? I don't know but I know that if it was anything like the last then i'm in for a blast! Even though i'm living day by day going to work and coming home and it's practically the same routine, i'm so excited for it.

Link of the day, not much to do with the article, just been listening to it a lot: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p0PjECSyJ7w