Twenty-Whatever

I was laying on the top level of the fairy bracing myself for the bumpy journey ahead, as our travel tickets cost a mere 850 baht ($25 at most) we were getting what we asked for: a cheap and rough (but mostly safe) bus ride. Myself and a gentleman from Poland took advantage of the luxuriously flat surface and plopped ourselves down on footprint caked cement, savasana style, for two hours while the sea graced us with salt and wind. I’m not sure what was on his iPod, but I listened to Adele and Jake Owen revisiting the past five days and doing a general overview of my time in Thailand thus far.

My new found American friend and I followed our trusty Australian to Koh Tao (he and his alluring sassiness left a night prior to our departure). Admittedly I was very much looking forward to the island as I’ve been regularly keeping tabs on an American’s Blog from NYC who lives on the Island. Instantly, I knew the island wasn’t exactly What I  had envisioned as we came off the boat to haggling taxi drivers and the prominent English language staring us in the face. It certainly wasn’t the cultural traveler’s paradise I was expecting but after finally accepting and embracing our tourist side, we managed to enjoy ourselves just fine.

Some physical highlights of the trip included hiking up to some beautiful look out points, such as Fraggle Rock as the island is covered all sorts of tropical flora and fauna plants and the view is what coffee-table books are made of. I fell in love a little with Paddle Boarding, my balance was surprisingly stable (I know, right?!), only falling off the board twice, with dramatic yelps escaping me throughout each topple. The ocean was calm and the paddling lovely, I felt like I was in a content state that I typically only ever reach during hard runs, intense yoga sessions or my third glass of wine.

In all honesty my favorite part of the trip was the company. I’m always caught off guard on how quickly you can become so close with those around you when traveling. Conversations quickly go from generic travel questions and silly get-to-know-you stories about growing up and sibling tales to one year plans, trekking dreams and  what we quite simply won’t put up with in a life-partner. And this is typically before the help of the social lubricant of Chiang Beer. I think I so easily jive with other people while traveling is because these strangers I come across share that passion that only comes from getting your passport stamped and booking your next flight in order to immerse yourself in foreign food and new culture. This isn’t really a passion I encounter in small town, Canada. I know this is my greatest downfalls, but I can tell you my next trip, but I can’t tell you where I’ll be living in Canada. And I’m more concerned with planning my next adventure rather than finding my next house. I’ve so incredibly easy to meet those people who feel like my people, with that shared restlessness and eager for adventure.

During my time in Koh Tao I turned twenty-nine. I know right, based on physical appearances I look like a mere twenty-five, and combined with my adulating failures, you’d think I was just shy of twenty-one. But, I’ve never transitioned to a new age so flawlessly. I’m one year short of thirty with no thought of settling down anytime soon. In fact, the best present a girl could be given was the news that Travel-Work visas in Australia have now increased to the age of thirty-five. For a girl who knows her presence in Canada never really felt like a forever status, I’m no less than ecstatic. I’ve met so many travelers who are either finishing up or just starting their one year work visa, not applying for the Work Permit right now and right here has seemed to be the only sense of self-control I’ve managed to maintain during this trip. For the most part, I’ve just been getting really good at loving my life.

Next stop, Chiang Mai!

Truly,

Kirstin - Almost thirty and loving it.

She’s a mess of gorgeous chaos, you can see it in her eyes.

The Volunteer

My Dear GVI Vols

My journey began volunteering in the Healthcare Program with GVI (Global Vision International) in a tiny village called Baan Nam Khem is a small Thai fishing village about 25 km north of KhaoLak. This village resides on the beach Andaman Sea and in 2004 the hurricane struck and this poverty stricken village lost more than half of its population; 8500 people minimum, this doesn’t include the Burmese people, whose population isn’t recorded due to these sea gypsies being illegal immigrants. GVI stepped in shortly after and it’s one of the two long term organizations that remained at Baan Nam Khem after the other humanitarian organizations pulled out.

There are three programs located at this base: Education, Conservation and Healthcare. I’m not sure what exactly drove me to work in the Healthcare section, the appealingly diverse and different work, the idea I wouldn’t have to teach English (wrong, Kirstin) the thought that these children who struggled with ‘real life’ children may have something in common with myself. I know what you’re thinking right, but she doesn’t do children, and I don’t, but what the hey, let’s give it a shot.

A day in a life of volunteering with GVI meant basic but clean dorm style living and shared kitchen. The volunteers were as unique and interesting as they come. When I got there one of the HealthcareGirls was leaving, so it was merely myself and another newbie, and we were shortly dubbed the Healthcare Hero’s, due to our attempts at putting in 150% effort in program/class preparations and our desire to run regularly on the beach.

Typically, we taught three classes a day. It was immensely challenging and spectacularly rewarding work:

We played with children ages 3-7 who lived at the foster homes. These little monkeys were full of energy and as cute as they come. They resided at the residences (created after the Tsunami by an Australian Company) because their parents had their own demons to battle, due to addiction, illness or poverty, or their parents died because of the Tsunami. The state of the playground was pretty insane. I joked that if they could survive the violent teeter totter and dire hard monkey bars, they’ll make it through life just fine.

We also taught a healthcare class, which was more than daunting as fifteen 12-14-year old’s kept bellowing these odd and foreign words Teacher, Teacher to me and I thought to myself, shit, I hardly know how to spell. Alas, we finally had a breakthrough after a particular class when we taught the English terms and then the relevance of the Sun and how to protect ourselves from it. I finally got my hand gestures in control (needed while teaching a foreign language) and we came up with some pretty wicked games regarding sun protection. The day ended with a high-five and some instant coffee.

#5 was me when I was little, eh Mum?

My favorite class was with Chamillians. We interacted and spent two hours a day with 5-8 children of various ages who had disabilities, mostly autism and down syndrome. God, I loved those kids. It was really about understanding sensory play (Other Girl, if you’re reading this, I really could have used your help), utilizing education with touch, sound, smell, taste and sight. I pulled out every nursery rhyme, song and action play I could think of and oh the crafts we did! Duck, Duck, GOOSE will never be the same.  It was my physiotherapist who told me to keep an eye on these children, with physical disabilities and see how their body types different to such extremes. Some were flexible as hell, touching head to floor and suddenly I was envious of children who had outbursts because they couldn’t get their point across.

I can’t stress the importance of this program. All of these children deserve such different and better lives. As Thailand number one source of income is tourism, teaching Thai/Burmese kids English is dire to them being able to make a decent living.

In all honestly, I feel my time there was left unfinished, and I suppose the excellent part about flying solo is perhaps, they’ll see me again.

 

Nobody ever became poor by giving.

Kindly,

Kirstin

And you're living it!

So, it’s been almost a month that I’ve been in Thailand and thus far my expectations have been blown and it was nothing like I could have imaged, from every angle.

My time so far has been spent volunteering in a rural village bánh nhân kem in the province of Phang Nga. The community is very small and most of the foreigners who come through the small village are simply the volunteers. Needless to say, I’m not playing tourist here, but being immersed in culture.

Quickly I’ve become forced friends with my bunkmates – a combination of living in close quarters and traveling with a purpose (aka volunteering) seems to create relationships rather fast. During the week w are heads down and tails up prepping for classes, teaching classes and cleaning but our weekends are given back to us and I’ve tried to take advantage of my free time. I promise to devote a post from a volunteer perspective, but this one’s dedicated to the lifestyle.

A hop, skip and jump away from our village, which is more like an hour walk, a 30 minuet local bus ride and six very sweaty white people ended up in a livelier town called Khao Lak where we spent two days and a night. The first day started off with torrential rain which left us with no other option than to begin our afternoon playing pool and drinking Singha Beer at an expat pub. The night ended at an Asian Club, where we danced to the beat of foreign tunes in a sea of very contacty Asian girls. It was an adventure all on its own.

It’s always a bit messy solo traveling with a group of people, and honestly it’s hard to sometimes make decisions for yourself or decisions as a group. I was reminded by another female volunteer about this concept as we couldn’t, for the life of us, find two boys in the group. The girl said that they probably just went home and I said that I couldn’t believe they would just leave us to which her response was Kirstin, they’re not those kind of boys. We found them walking home twenty mins ahead of us.

In turn, I had to remind a different girl, who has perhaps had a bit too much spirits and too many cigarettes, that traveling solo in a developing country means that no one really has your back. Don’t get me wrong, eighty percent of my decisions are made on the vibes of strangers and my gut instinct. Most travellers I’ve met are helpful and decent people, but ultimately, traveling alone means that the only person you have to rely on is yourself. Daily I learn how capable I am and that I’m braver than I ever knew.

After sleeping at the Highway Backpackers Hostel (they weren’t kidding about the Highway part), some bed sharing and resorting to using a towel as a blanket (apparently cheap hostels don’t include blankets), we began our day eating an American breakfast and then heading to the Khao Lak-Lam Ru National Park and trekked our way up to the Ton Chong Fa Waterfall. The scenery was beautiful. The rainforest was lush providing coverage from the sun and for three hours we spend our time making our way to the different levels (hiking in our bathing suites, naturally) and enjoying a break from heat and humidity. We refuelled ourselves by hitting up the Night Market eating local Pad Thai and trying the various sweets, opting out of tasting the fried bugs.

After a bus ride with a dreamy diver from Switzerland we concluded our night we a campfire on the beach with the rest of the volunteers.

Within the last few weeks I’ve quite often reminded myself smiling and thinking, holy shit Kirstin, it’s happening, your traveling in Thailand and it’s everything you wanted in more.

HAPPY

Kirstin

Surround yourself with the dreamers, the doers, the believers and the thinkers.