Willow's Elephant:

Dear Willow,

So, I went to find you an elephant you won't believe what I saw! Let me start from the beginning.

 

For a full day I went to the Elephant Nature Park, it's about an hour drive outside of Chaing Mai, Thailand (look for a map on the internet to find me!). The organization began in 1995 and today has 71 elephants. The elephants were not treated very well at one point in their life. Some elephants were used for logging where they had to move tress and walk in unsafe places, where they had very hard lives. Other elephants were forced to take tourists for walks in the forest. They would be walking with people on their backs for up to eight hour days. It was ruthless and painful. Also, elephants were rescued from Circuses. I’m not sure if you knew this, but elephants that are in circuses are not very happy. They are suffering because they are chained up for very long periods of time and are often forced to do things they don’t want to through acts of violence. Although it is fun to go to watch them dance around and do tricks, the loud noises are very scary for them and the trainers usually use hurtful methods to make them listen. Finally, elephants have ivory tusks, which are very valuable. This means that people want to hurt elephants to get their tusks, which usually means hunting the elephant.

 

So, the organization that I went to visit pays money (lots of money!) to take these hurting and sad elephants and give them a happy and nice home. During my time at the Elephant Nature Park we got to feed the elephants fruits and leaves, which they love. I also got to spend time giving the Elephants a bath in the river water. I think they enjoyed it as much as they did! The volunteers and staff at The Park are very respectful to the elephants. They only use food as a way to control them. For example, we used bananas to get them into the water (Does Shawna give you chocolate in order to convince you to have a bath!?). The elephants are also free to roam around the park that is full of grass and is a very large area. I even got to pet some elephants. It was a little scary because they are so Big! But they are gentle giants and their wrinkly skin is so soft!

 

I’ve learned some very interesting things about Elephants. They are very social animals. Many of them have best friends and don’t like to be separated. We met a baby elephant and the mother and, especially the auntie are very close with the baby. Also, elephants can live up to 80 years old! 

 

The sad part is that because elephants are used for logging and in circuses and are hunted for their tusks, there are not many elephants in Thailand. The Asian Elephant is officially an endangered species. In fact, there are a mere 30,000 left in the entire world.  In Thailand there is an estimated 3,000-4,000 elephants.  Around half of half of them are domesticated (aren’t living in the wild), the remainder living wild in National Parks Reserves and about 300 are stuck in those circuses and are forced into logging, like I mentioned above.

So Willow, this means that I can’t bring you back and elephant, because they are so much happier living with their best friends and family at the Elephant Nature Park. But boy did I take a bunch of pictures and I’ll bring you something as a token of my adventures to see the elephants run free. 

I promise that when you’re old enough, as long as it’s okay with your family, we will go volunteer and stay with the elephants for a week. You will have to save money for spending, but I’ll pay for the other stuff.

 

If you want more information on where I volunteer for the day, here is the website: https://www.elephantnaturepark.org/

 

I am having a great time on my adventure, but I miss you and Heidi so much!

Love,

Kirstin

Dr. Seuss — 'I meant what I said and I said what I meant. An elephant's faithful one-hundred percent!' 

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.

Planes, Luggage and Thailand

NOTE: PICTURES POSTED! I wrote this during a 3 hour bus ride on my iPhone. Please excuse me if there's more grammatical errors than usual (well, usually there many without that excuse).


Well, shit. My start of another grand adventure began less than ideal. I ended up staying in Beijing for 24 hours after our plane was grounded for more than 5 hours on the Tarmac, while still in Canada. With a combination of poor whether, and rumour has it, a nasty exchange of words between Air Traffic Control and AirChina's pilot, it took a total of 15+ hours in a plane to get to Beijing.

Jetlegged and hungry, I'm informed my flight to Thailand was missed, as was my luggage: missing. No, not missing, delayed. They never say lost. malaria pills, extra underwear, shoes and all. shit.


So, I spend a night in a hotel room with an photographer, named, well Guy from Whistler. Don't worry, separate beds of course. I tried making best of a crazy situation, for instance the following morning I hung out with a girl from PEI as we wandered around Beijing, and when I got into Phuket, Thailand I tried not I cry when I was still wearing the same clothing for the last 72 hours.There were emails with my mum who was faithfully calling AirChina/AirCanada regarding my luggage status, and my niece asking me, via FaceTime, how my sister, Shawna is expected to help me when I'm so far away (to which I responded with a laugh and a cry). After that conversation I understood that there's a lesson I needed to learn in order to get my luggage because, goddamn it, everything happens for a reason.  I needed to make best of this situation. I needed to become okay with not having my lifeline: my backpack. And I needed to get the hell out of this expensive and depressive  accommodation before I became a part of the room or ended up poor, whatever came first.  So I did. Through searching lonely planet's Thailand guide, I took a cab to Old Town Phuket and so began my travel adventure in Thailand.

I started off small: checking out  the Bohemian coffee shop and used bookstore, roaming the streets of Phuket (getting lost regularly) and eating local, authentic street food. Suddenly I was enjoying my time. Torrential rain mearly meant seeking coverage under a random honing and listening to The Lumineers on my iPhone. Taking the long way home meant having my first taste of Thai Food at a lovely shop, to which The Lovely Amber was right, ruined my food pallet, as I've never had such flavourful, savoury vegetarian food. By the time I was organizing things to do for the following morning, day six of the same clothing, my mum iMessaed me to tell me my luggage arrived.

And suddenly I found myself headed to the Phang Nga province to begin  volunteering on the Healthcare Project.

When I met my bunk mates it all of  30 seconds to get invited to a weekend away at an ocean town called Crabi Thailand. Without hesitation I accept the invite. And suddenly I realize how amazing how beautiful it is to really Really live.

Kindly,

A World Traveler ;)

When was the last time you did something for the first time?

Cold Feet.

I had a meltdown today in the Walmart parking lot and resorted to calling my sister (who just had Heidi a week ago) to talk me off the ledge. I’m not talking about a bad phone call, I’m talking about ugly crying and streaky tears as soon as she said hello. This is a pretty solid outline as to how my pre-departure gitters are going.

She reminded me that despite the weeks of preparing, the constant updating of to-do lists, I’ll never be ready for this adventure (I, too, was surprised by this realization). But haven’t I been ready for this adventure since I got off the plane and entered Bolivia three September’s ago? Isn't this what essentially live for? I work to travel, literally. And now I’m traveling and it’s taken a lovely Nurse at the Pretentious Travel Clinic and half a bottle of wine to make my anxiety calm down. I’ve just learned what a tension headache really is – as it’s been residing in my brain for the last three days. 

I love my life. I really do. Sacrificing reliable cars, a house to call my own and even relationships is something I just do: for the love of traveling. Who cares that the boy who has forever circled my life just told me he’s twitterpated over anther gal and I’ve just put my down payment on a non-refundable trip to a developing country. He’s found his soul mate and I’ve opted for a solo trip to Asia. What the shit? I suppose that’s why I felt so nauseous after eating my veggie dinner,  because I can’t help wonder what the hell do I do if I end up hating Asia. What do I say to people when I tell them I’m second guessing my badass lifestyle and I’m wishing that perhaps I’m back in the ‘hoof with my easy-peasy job and that suppose I really, finally did ask out that dreamy boy who runs the Bearhead (so what if he doesn’t drink?).

Truthfully, I’m worried about what people will say if I die on the Annapurna Circuit before spending all my savings or I get abducted on the taxi ride on the way to the hostel. I’m terrified they would whisper to one another that this is simply the consequence of living a dream and going against all North American standards of the conception of normality. People who live hard get what they deserve: a life of solitude because no one can quite keep up and/or relate to such recklessness, am I right? They sure will tell me so when I end up unsatisfied by choosing a life of continental adventure and journals rather than a life of comfort and unnecessary kitchen amenities.

But, if we’re being truthful here, which I try to on this Blog, I would admit that I’m wondering if I’ve made the right choices: the flight rather than the boy, the international food rather than the local job and the good time rather than the long time. I fly out in twenty four hours and I’m questioning everything I’ve ever worked towards and everything I’ve ever sacrificed to make that happen. For once I'm questioning my norms and not societies. Would it had been better had I sticked to the Odgen house and the corporate job? Would the outcome be more on my side if I talked about The Ring rather than The Trip?

So when they ask you what to get the girl who has everything, which means she’s doing everything she could ever hope for, instead of getting her more of the same, perhaps try getting her a sticky note reminding her that she’s made the right choice, the hard choice. 

Sincerely,

One very scared girl.

Sometimes the fear won't go away, so you have to do it afraid. 

Being The Girl

I’ve become undeniably attached to my work-life here, I’m reluctant to admit this because, although they refer to me as The Girl, I never thought I’d be That Girl. That girl who takes work home with her on the weekends, and who is more than capable of paying over 300 employees, but questions her ability of mailing out legal documents that must, must, must get there before Tuesday. That’s crazy, I’m well aware of this.

But here’s what they don’t tell you about being The Girl and on being oh so invested in your job: They don’t tell you have a work-life and a personal-life, which sometimes the lines blur, where you have inside jokes and you can swear as only one can while working at a sawmill. I get made fun of for being the hippy and the gypsy, but they still make me veggie burgers and ask me questions as to where I’m off to next. And with an office position where you assist everyone, suddenly you’re nice to most and most are nice to you, which is really, well, quite nice. I remember driving home with my lovely supervisor (and Bushbabe) friend, where someone waved at me in my yellow car and my friend asked who it was who greeted us. I responded that I had no idea, but I know I’m well known. People see me walking with my piles of papers throughout the Mill and know to keep an eye out for me, with my clean vest and clean shoes, I may just get lost.

And oh, the friends I have made! I’m going to miss many faces, including the Bean Counter and The Other Girl (who is now simply The Girl), my manager and his boss, too. I’m going to miss them terribly. It’s surprising the connections and support systems one can build in such a short amount of time. I’ve been allowed to learn where the line is through trial and error. I’ve been complemented on my intelligence and teased for my silliness, supported despite my mistakes and even comforted the day I cried at work.

I think most remarkably I found a position where I can be The Girl, and I get asked my opinion by important people and it’s actually taken into consideration. I feel my ideas are valued, which is something that hasn’t really happened work wise before. 

I’m starting to become someone I’ve didn’t really recognize: I’m valuing my job. I truly appreciate my company allowing me to grow as a human in a safe environment, with the support that a person with my level of crazy actually needs.

So, I drive away from my job with my sunnies on and Hugo in the backseat, still in a denial, thinking I’ll be putting up postings and doing Payroll next week, but alas, I’ll be moving on to my next adventure. I know that truly, this world is small, and I might be a little pragmatic, but I think I’ll see those familiar faces and perhaps even that site again. I can only hope I left a mark on that company as much as they left one on me. 

Signed,

The Girl

I want to inspire people. I want someone to look at me and say "because of you, I didn't give up".

And here's to a strong woman.

When I mention my mom, I explain that I am who I am, because she is who she is; I mean this in both ends of the axis: from the generous spirit that surrounds my soul to all that crazy that I produce. She has a relaxed, vivacious personality and a carefree and boisterous lifestyle, where for me, I am an utmost planner (until I throw all caution to the wind and decide to just get that tattoo in Asia) and stress seems to be the glue that holds me together. 

I seemed to have inherited her good parts, too, including her kindness. My mom volunteers at countless organizations. From helping out at marathons, theater productions and volunteering by teaching children with physical disabilities to ski, to welcoming anyone and everyone over for cinnamon buns, dinners, providing a room to spend the night, even a house to live in, my mom is as caring as they come.

She’s also very opinionated and won’t hesitate to rock the boat, on very important things and sometimes, just to cause a scene. When she picked me up from my flight from Peru, she had a full blown yelling match with the parking company that dinged (quite badly actually) her car. This scene was something I’ve seen in my childhood on several occasions: a lady refusing to take shit from anyone. Jet-lagged with a bacterial infection, I simply smiled shook my head at the office match. The end result was her very bluntly posting about the company and her respected car on Facebook. Needless to say, her car got fixed.

She’s an independent woman with a respectable job, happily working alongside men and, she owes a lovely house, all on her very own. This wasn’t always the case, and she’s flourished through the ashes, it seems, as only Carolynn would. Though there will always be some struggles, she’s successfully been without a companion to financially support her. She’s the reason why I’m such an advocate for Economic Feminism: Inequality comes from having to rely on a their partner, financially. Hell, she’s the reason why I’m a feminist at all.

My mum and I have had our disagreements, to be sure. All three of us girls have. But mum, you can’t raise three girls to be strong, independent women and then get angry when they don’t agree with your opinions. The thing about her is, you never wonder what she’s thinking. I say this about my Sister, Shawna, all the time but in truth she’s gets it from my mom. I’d expect anyone to take that as a complement.

My sisters and I rely on each other for moral support if we’re battling it out with our very vocal, self-assured mother. We sometimes joke about getting the case of the CC’s (Crazy Carolynn’s) when we verbally explode on someone. Never piss off a McNeil (Ziegler) Girl, we smirk. But seriously. 

Ultimately, it was my mum who let me move in with her so I could pull myself back together. I think I’ve moved back in with her at least three times and counting (Hello February, 2017). And, when I was waking up with work sweats at four in the morning making lists of what must be done the next day at my dreadful job in the Kootneys, it was my mom who said, "It's time, time to go traveling". And, it’ll be her watching her Grand-Dog for four months while I put adulating on pause next month.

I wouldn’t be who I am today without watching her shamelessly be who she is. My mom tells me that she’s proud the life I’ve chosen, but really it’s mutual. I’m so proud of the life that she’s built and chosen to live so freely.

Kindly,

Kirstin

Shit, have you told mum? - Shawna, Megan, Kirstin.