If bugs are terrorists then I'm George Bush

A journal entry from Pod

The rains bring the mosquitoes. Bearing this in mind, I went to the Aqua Bar the day before yesterday to connect to the the Internet. I wore my long baggy trousers to cover my legs and a small top, the rest of my exposed body was lathered in Citronella and Eucalyptus oil (my own, tried and tested non chemical anti mozzie concoction)

Within ten minutes I was feeling the unmistakable sting of mozzie bites on the back of my legs. I hurried home, took off my clothes and applied my Aspivenin suction kit (I am aware that if I was seen doing this on CCTV in the UK I would be arrested as a heroin addict) but it works, if you can reach the spot.

Next morning, I asked a resident long time ex pat, Mr D* if mosquitoes can get you through your clothes. "Oh yes," he replied, "if it is thin sarong material they can, and they can live in your clothes too" (AHHHH activate fear mode!)

He advised me to spray my clothes cupboard regularly as mosquitoes live in dark places and then when they come out and suck your blood it is only to lay eggs and die. He also said that it is not wise to sleep in the same room you keep your clothes in. (so I could have put on my own mosquitoes) Lovely..........RED ALERT!

Last night I noticed rather a lot of mosquitoes in my bathroom which is warm and humid and has no window. So I lit an anti mosquito coil which smoked on top of the toilet tank.

I also lit one in my room, I thought that they just discouraged mosquitoes but when one crashed into my bed and died, I real*eyesed they may be more powerful (can't read the packet as it is in Thai)

When I went to the toilet, the floor was covered in dead mosquitoes. More died in my room, not little ones but big b******s with yellow striped bodies, rigged for silent running.

I went to sleep feeling terrorized unable to leave any part of my body exposed. And when I awoke this morning and found a flea in my bed, that was it. I felt despair. I made a coffee and wondered how to be safe.

Suddenly I heard the loudest fracas outside my room. I opened the window to see a group of mynah birds attacking each other. "Do you mind?" I heard myself say in a total Mary Poppins voice. They flew off, but several minutes later it started again.

This time I just opened the door, kept quiet and watched. Then I just giggled....

As I watched, all the birds went for each other, until some of them surrendered and lay down. Then when all those that were attacked had lain down the aggressors lay on their backs and they continued to screech and act ferocious.




When they felt vanquished the whole group would get to their feet and start again.

It looked very fierce with open shrieking beaks, but no bird was physically hurt. I can only assume it is the start of the mating season, because I have seen them strutting round with their heads down and their plumage puffed like the pigeons do. But at least pigeons have some dignity, mynah birds are definitely the clowns of the avian world.

I don't know how long it would have lasted if a cat had not appeared on the scene, but I managed to get a shot of them; they were totally oblivious to me. Two of them are actually playing dead in the photo, but flew off very quickly.

I have cleaned and cleaned today. Sprayed my mattress with poison and let it dry. Put my sheets and pillows out in the sun hoping that the heat would kill anything that moves.

I have done all this with a lightness of heart, brought about by the comical antics of the mynah birds.

Good thing too, because when I went to the 7/11 and asked for chemical help with my flea, they just laughed and subconsciously scratched themselves. The Thai word for flea is "mad"

There Be Dragons

A journal entry by Pod

In olden times, before the globe was circumnavigated, ancient maps bore the words "There Be Dragons" in the unknown and unexplored areas of the world. Dragons are scary creatures but their fire burns away the parts of you that are no longer necessary to your survival.

Last night I watched "La Vie En Rose" the story of Edith Piaf. Gosh* if ever a soul wanted to experience the agony of loss, it was little Edith with her big heart. In a final interview she spoke with an honest simplicity about Love being the central theme of her life, which was truly remarkable considering she lost everyone she loved, usually in traumatic circumstances.

I started to weep as she screamed out the name of her lover, killed in a plane crash. It was downhill from then on; the final song, "Je Ne Regret Rien" dragged me into my emotional compost heap, and I began a weepathon that has continued periodically throughout this morning.

I too am experiencing the pain of loss. The loss of my wonderful friends in England. I have been so blessed to have the most amazing people in my life, who have loved me and supported me unconditionally. My sudden decision to leave England permanently was a shock to all of them, but they never once tried to make me change my mind; instead they bravely held their pain in check and did all they could to assist me. They loved me enough to let me go because they knew me well. I know some of them miss me very much.

Because of my imminent departure, I experienced a wave of love from people who perhaps felt it was their last chance to love me and tell me how much I had helped them. It was beautiful, a bit like dying perhaps, but I was sad too because all their love was not enough to make me stay and that felt as if I was betraying them in some way.

I will, of course, see them again, I plan periodic trips back to stock up on supplies and have a change of scenery. Some will come and stay here with me; already two of them have made firm plans to travel to Kantiang Bay in the next 9 months. Nevertheless my heart knows their absence from my everyday life.

It takes some time and effort to build good trusting friendships doesn't it? You know the sort where you really listen to each other, affirm each other and love each other enough to blow away the bull**** and remember the loving truth beneath. Friendships where you have spent cosy evenings with a bottle of wine, telling each other your herstory/history, trusting each other with the contents of your emotional closet.

Some of my friends have been rungs on the ladder that allowed me to climb out of despair.

These qualities are still there in my friendships, but due to time differences, busy lives and the dynamics of ?,000 miles apart, they are not available to me in the same, easy, spontaneous way. I am living a different life with different challenges in a very different environment and I am responsible for the consequences of my choices. If I sometimes feel lonely, then so be it. That is the price I will pay. The scary part for me is that I will not be able to create that sort of friendship here in Thailand because it is such a transient place. People just move on.

It's not all roses you know. There are thorns and today I am right in the middle of the briar patch pulling them out of my heart.

Is it time to leave Paradise?

Article written by Pod

The Internet is down, the power could go off at any minute as it has done many times in the last week. The air is full of some sort of flying insects which get into your hair, your clothes, everywhere. The frogs croak every time it rains (which is becoming more and more frequent), Burma - just ' up the road' geographically, has lost untold thousands to a vicious cyclone and the cicadas are so noisy that I have to turn up my music.

I have seen more snakes in the last week, than in my entire life, some of which I am sure are poisonous. The waves are too big to go floating on my lilo and much of Kantiang bay is shutting down for low season.

Is it time to leave paradise? No way! With all of this, I still want to live here because these are real problems brought about by real life. Not the manufactured fear that politicians and newspapers create in Britain which I cannot combat or deal with, because whether it is an increase in council tax, or God forbid, some passerby that sees me drop a piece of cake out of the car window and reports me to the council resulting in a hefty fine though the post, I have a choice in how I deal with these problems.

Yeah, sometimes it is boring when the electricity is off for five hours and it is raining. I have to do something, or experience boredom. Yes, I am seriously p-ss-d off when my washing (done by hand) is rained on, the mud has splattered all over it and I have to wash it all again (and those smalls are tedious). But these are challenges. England did not present me with challenges that allowed me to use my imagination and pit my strength. England presented me with situations where I was totally powerless to change the outcome.

I marched against the war in Iraq (for all the good it did) Tony Blair went to war, illegally anyway! I remonstrated with my local council about the amount of rubbish in my street, left there by McDonald's customers. I asked them to put in litter bins. Did they listen? No! Just increased my council tax by 12% Thanks Sheffield.

The sense of powerlessness, the feeling that I did not exist was the main reason I left the U.K.

Despite the rain, the mud, and the mozzies, I will stay. Tonight as I lay in my hammock, listening to life all around me, a firefly slowly sparkled its magical way past me. I am enchanted!!!!!!



Disclaimer: All opinions expressed by contributors are not necessarily those of the editor.