Victoria's insights and travel

The Long term travelers I met

victoria_handley — Tue, 2 Dec 2008 16:02:00 GMT

With less than a week to go before my year in SE Asia comes to an end I am in a reflective mood, captured by my memories and experiences of places and people who have come into my life during this year, the communities and projects I have been involved in, and the challenges and euphoric moments I have shared. I am caught between the excitement of going home to familiar faces and places, and the fear of leaving this experience behind me.

Many people issued the warning before I left that “your life will have changed”, “life won’t be the same on your return” and “you won’t be able to ‘go back’ to the way things were”. I shrugged and thought, “We shall see”.

It seems that there are many different kinds of travelers. Of course there are the “holiday makers”, who spend big, travel fast, sight see and /or simply relax in one destination. There are the group tourists in buses and expensive hotels. And there are a number of different kinds of constant world explorers or long term travelers. I have met a number of these travelers that stand out in my mind while I’ve been away.

The first was a forty odd year old New Zealand man who proudly stated that he’d been on the road for 21 years. We were sitting in a café in northern Laos with two young female university students from America. I was instantly intrigued by his life style and choices. The girls looked equally captivated. He was obviously used to impressing people with his stories and life style. The conversation deepened. So in my usual fashion I inquired more personally. “But what is your purpose for this kind of travel? What are you doing with your life?” The girls sat up with eager anticipation and bewilderment. “Mmmm” , he said. “ I have never really thought about that question. Nobody has ever asked it.”

“So what is it?”

He sat and pondered.

“I guess like everyone it is to find a soul mate.” He said, “Someone to share my life with. I would like to have a family one day”. Now we were all sitting backs straight in our chairs. I could not for the life of me imagine a western woman ready to have a family, who would choose this kind of life-style or man, with nothing to show but a colorful history and backpack. The conversation progressed and he shared some of his history with us. Each story sounded amazing and exotic. The more he told, the less envious I /we became. We all shared about our experiences, intentions, our fears, hopes, and our attitude toward life.

In the end he was left wondering for the first time, I think, what he was going to make of his life and perhaps wondering why he had the need to keep moving on to new experiences, meeting new people, and leaving them behind to go on to the next.

He was an expert traveler. He knew how to get around, how to live on a shoe string and how to encounter people in order to fulfill his needs.

Two days later when I saw him arrive at the table disheveled and tired looking, he triumphantly announced he had been caught up for the past two days in a blind Lao woman’s bed. “It was amazing” he said with a sparkle in his eye. I couldn’t help but wonder about the emptiness and fullness of this exchange and the woman’s desperation to share herself in this way to a man that gave endless short term pleasure and comfort and hope to so many women all over the world. Loving them and leaving them, with the hope that one day he would return. This seems to be a characteristic of many “long term traveling males”. Or was it another valuable lesson for me to accept each others differences and choices without judgment, and appreciate each moment in time? Fine I suppose so long as people aren’t used and left broken hearted along the way for the sake of fulfilling someone else’s needs.

Many men in Asia fall victim to the pretty bar girls whose sole intent is to marry a man from the “west”. Some hook up with Asian women, get married and become ex-pats where they establish businesses and spend their years flying backwards and forwards to visit family and get a dose of “home” then return back to Asia where they have seemingly more kudos and status than “back home”, and where their money is a small fortune compared with the economy of the west.

There are many young (and older) men from Europe who spend their winters in Asia and return each year to their pretty Asian girlfriends. I can’t count the number of times I heard these girls tell me that; “We are getting married next year”…I wonder how many actually do, or is it just a promise, and a well established fantasy from both sides.

Asia is well known for its sex trade, young pretty girlfriends and brides. The women are expert at the art of flirting. Men’s egos lap it up. I have sat for hours in restaurants, coffee shops and bars observing the different relationships. Some are very respectful, but most very shallow and short lived I am guessing. There is something very sad and pathetic about these situations, these people, and it’s also very confronting to my personal values. It has been quite a challenge to me to observe and accept the way things are here. At times I have felt physically sick at the sight of these men with the women here. I have spoken with many people on this topic and it is true that many other men and women find it repulsive (sorry but that’s the only word I can find). A few men, I chatted with who had their own sense of integrity did not want to travel in Asia because they were constantly assumed to be on the hunt. But it is what it is; you either close your eyes to it, or go to places where it is not so much ‘in your face’.

I am aware that much of this essay so far focuses on the men I have met, rather than the women who are roaming the world in search of something; perhaps the elusive ‘soul mate’, companion, ‘trophy’ wife/husband, or simply, ‘sex partner’. That is because I truly did not meet many women my age traveling in this way. Of course, this is Asia and not the west coast of Africa, for many people have told me that it is the reverse situation over there, with more women of that ilk foraging for the same experiences there that men do in Asia. These observations are based on my own experiences in SE Asia and it is well known that Asia is one of the sex capitals of the world for men. You can’t avoid it when you travel here.

Indeed I have met quite a number of people who travel as an alternative to a long term and committed relationship, for what ever reason travel fills their lives up with other things, and avoids the commitment to a relationship and so called ‘normal’ life. There are people I met who dedicate their heart and energy to a particular cause, or project as an alternative to relationships or family life. They have given up on the chance of sharing their lives with another, or simply didn’t want it.

A woman who I was very inspired by put all her time, energy and passion in to the disabled children in Vietnam by way of setting up physiotherapy sessions, training and education for these families for the previous eight years before I met her. She had no time for a partner as she said.

I met a man in his late thirties who worked for one month as a computer programmer, then traveled for the next month. He had been doing this for seven years, and must have seen a huge amount of the world and its wonders. He had written a book on travel, but I couldn’t help but question how he would ever stop this lust for adventure in preference for a lasting relationship or family. He also expressed this dilemma or rather consequence of choice, as he did express a desire to one day ‘settle down’. But perhaps this is the luxury of choice we have in the west.

“A rolling stone gathers no moss”.

Another dear friend who had been traveling for fifteen years openly discussed his discomfort or disbelief in lasting relationships based on love. To me this attitude was a foreign concept, but for him a resolution that had long been a part of his life style and choice. I think he had always lived on the fringe of society, be it back home or in foreign lands so he had chosen another path and was, after many years of self and world exploration, contributing back to the communities with which he had an affinity. My understanding was that this commitment was growing as he found his purpose and an ability to make a difference to even one person’s life. He is now working with a group of street children in Burma, teaching English to them and helping them look at their future options in life. He also was a sincere and sensitive traveler, and touched many people’s lives wherever he went through his kindness, insight and acceptance of difference. He always gave more than he took. I think he will more than likely always be a solo traveler through this world.

Travel is an ongoing exposure and challenge to all that we think is “truth” or ‘reality”…as each life is experienced so differently from the other. And travel has shown me different ways of seeing. Accepting others ways of ‘being’ is part of my challenge and learning curve. Being confronted with other ways of seeing is a blessing for it brings about awareness of differences, and yet helps paint a clearer picture of who I am and what choices I have in this big wide world. It has given me more choices.

Whilst I was volunteering in Cambodia I met a number of volunteers who traveled with a purpose of “find themselves” (not so much looking for a mate) and put meaning to their lives or careers. Some found the humanitarian work satisfying and motivated them to change their approach to their lives back home, or their studies and future. Others were inspired to continue this kind of work in developing countries. Some just left with more confusion and confrontation about who they were and what they wanted to do with their lives. And so their journey continued partying, get drunk, getting laid and struggling to the next destination.

Another long term traveler friend of mine had left his home land and family twelve months before I met him on the road, after experiencing a marriage break up and seemingly ‘mid-life crisis’. Traveling the world by himself was the answer to his quest to redefine himself without the limitations of his roles back in the UK. Meeting people, encountering cultures and exotic places, as well as the challenge to himself to develop independence like he’d never known, was his quest to “find himself” in a new and more satisfying way. He was discovering being ‘single’. The journey was/is a roller coaster of emotions and personal inner conflicts, connections with people, sexual encounters with women, relationships, struggles and indulgences. It was/is a very self focused sojourn.

The rewards were many, but the costs very high to himself and others.

The majority of older long term travelers I met were the people for what ever reason, now had an intention of ‘escape’, ‘adventure’ or to do ‘heart work’, or simply wanted to avoid the trappings or responsibilities of ‘normal’ commitments associated with their previous life. They were free to make choices about their life style as they had financial security. They had reached some kind of ‘turning point’ in their life.

Whilst in Mae Sot I met both young and older people who had specific involvements and reasons for being there. There was a young American man completing his studies looking at the effects of living for years in refugees camps, another making a documentary on the same subject. There were health workers training the Burmese in pre and post natal care, a mid wife from Chad training the nurses, and another researcher from Holland gathering data on malaria. I met a man who had been following a family and documenting their journey from the refugee camp to resettlement in America. I met people educating on HIV awareness, and drug and alcohol prevention. An Australian woman on a disability pension returned about every two years to volunteer in the schools for illegal immigrants.

In Vietnam I worked with a woman who had single handedly set up an organization that catered for poor families, children with disabilities, paid for medication and operations, and arranged funding for worth while projects in her community. In Cambodia I had the privilege to meet a young woman who at the age of twenty two set up an orphanage and a team of people from Slovakia who ran an orphanage, school and medical service for children with aides. I was very impressed with a young man of twenty four throw his energy into finding funding for, and constructing school playgrounds. He had completed sixteen playgrounds for the children of the Burmese who had no legal status and therefore no educational support in Thailand. He was helped by an enthusiastic team of people who passed through the town and became involved. It was truly inspiring to see what one person can generate.

These were heart felt people, using their skills and knowledge to support different efforts, or projects with these communities. Some came specifically to do this work and others simply stopped their travels to get involved in something they felt worth while. It seems that this kind of travel / traveler is vastly different from the intentions of the long term sight seeing, adventure seeking traveler. I personally have preferred this form of exchange. It has more depth and meaning for me. Peeling back the layers and understanding a foreign culture takes time and I wonder whether we ever truly understand it all with our western perspective. At best we can learn from these people/cultures and give back what we can in what ever way is appropriate. It is always a two way exchange.

The day-to-day necessities of long term travel can fill a person’s life with direction and purpose but not meaning. Perhaps that’s why people keep traveling, as it can keep life very busy, without too much soul searching or responsibility being attached. Long term travel it seemed to me can be an escape and /or enlightening experiences (perhaps both). Some find themselves in ashrams or meditation retreats, tasting everything along the way, but still it remains a solo, inner journey to find ones own sense of peace and perhaps place in the world.

I can’t help but be grateful, for being born in Australia, as we in the west have the luxury of choice and I have also had the luxury of love and security in my world. Although I have been exposed to the harshness of poverty, corruption and the effects of war, I have been filled with a sense of hope, that amongst all this and environmental degradation and world economic worries, there is a band of people who are truly making for positive changes and creating a world based on ‘love’ rather than ‘fear’ and desperation.

I will go back to my familiar culture and work, but it will never quite be the same, and I hope to make something of all this experience to keep my life being worthwhile and perhaps bring some positive change to the world in some small or profound way….”we shall see”! My awareness has certainly been changed and so has my potential to contribute.

Asia; confronted by the sex industry

victoria_handley — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 21:56:00 GMT

As a woman traveler I have been confronted and challenged by what I saw happening between Asian girls and women, and western men. Indeed some people I have spoken with have felt the same and choose not to travel in Asia for this reason.

Asia is well known for its sex trade, young pretty girlfriends and brides. The women are expert at the art of flirting. Men’s egos lap it up (or are confronted by it). I have sat for hours in restaurants, coffee shops and bars observing the different relationships and interactions. Some are very respectful, but most very shallow and short lived I am guessing. I saw blank faces, strained conversations and awkward silence! There is something very sad and pathetic about these situations, these people. It is also very confronting to my personal values. It has been quite a challenge for me to observe and accept the way things are here. At times I have felt physically sick at the sight of these men with the young women here. I have spoken with many people on this topic and it is true that others find it repulsive (sorry but that’s the only word I can find). A few men, I chatted with who had their own sense of integrity did not want to travel in Asia because they were constantly assumed to be on the hunt or associated with these men.

But it is what it is; you either close your eyes to it, or go to places where it is not so much ‘in your face’.

Thailand: sex capital of the world for men. It is similar in Cambodia and also the Philippines and Vietnam etc; men come to these countries for self satisfaction, validation and in some way to feel Ok about themselves or simply just to have a ‘good time’. Many are short term holiday makers, others regular visitors and others end up staying or taking home an Asian bride. (I apologize to the people who do find genuine love here…I am generalizing of course)

In all the major cities in Asia the bars and streets are lined with prostitutes, taxi girls and ‘hopefuls’. They follow men, skillfully flirt and offer fun, their prettiness and their bodies to make money to exist or develop their futures. I am told in most cases these women are dedicated to providing income for their families. According to Thai women I have spoken with, it is an easy way of making quick money and avoiding hardship. It can be selfless act if you see it in this way. Many adapt to this life style with the hope that the ‘big old white man’ will save them from a limited future and marry them or take them away to the west (the Asian dream) or simply just fill their pockets and provide a ‘luxurious’ life style, far beyond most Asian women’s expectations of their futures.

There are many young (and older) men from Europe who spend their winters in Asia and return each year to their Asian girlfriends. I can’t count the number of times I heard these girls tell me that; “We are getting married next year”…I wonder how many actually do, or is it just a promise, and a well established fantasy from both sides.

Whether it is a life style choice or within the sex industry, which is now part of the economy, I see thousands of young women giving themselves for money in return for sex and/or company for these men. Mostly I am told make the choice, but of course there are the young girls who do not and are used by ‘brokers’ who line their own pockets. Refugees from neighboring countries may be sold by their families or kidnapped. One child in my project in Cambodia was sold to a German pedophile by her father for $200. In this case an NGO dealing with such cases found her in Phnom Penh and rescued her. She now lives in an orphanage, but the father and man involved got away without penalty. (If you have money in Asia bribes can get you out of trouble with the police.)

I am confronted by my own judgment of these men and some of the women (as many are also “using” men). It has been one of the most challenging issues of my travel experience. Acceptance of difference is one of the benefits of travel. There is much being done to keep children safe in Asia. There are brochures in hotel rooms etc, and organizations set up to counter act the corruption in this industry but it is deeply entrenched in the culture of Asia.

So I go back to the words; “God help me to change the things I can, and accept the things I can not, and have the wisdom to recognize the difference”.

Journey through central Thailand

victoria_handley — Thu, 9 Oct 2008 15:47:00 GMT

The sun is warming my shoulder and the window, like a wide screen national geographic documentary. For once i am happy to be on the sunny side of the bus. The air conditioning in these VIP coaches can be like going to the south pole. My Ipod is plugged in, and the mind is adrift. One gets wise to the perks of travel after a while. Bangkok, in six hours, Kanchanaburi another three. I am a tourist in a foreign land.

I've just spent almost two weeks in Mae Sot where I became aware of yet another situation where politics, power and corruption feeds the divide between the people who have nothing, and those who thrive on human desperation, need, greed, foreign aid and the generosity of others. It is a border town where refugees, illegal immigrants, political activists, volunteers, NGOs and foreign workers mix with Thai government officials, police and its people. Mae sot is a small town on Thai/Burmese (Myanmar) border. It is not a “tourist town”. The town is full of Burmese people who come to Thailand with the hope of a better life for themselves and their children, escaping Burma’s militant government. Some are escaping political incarceration, or seeking refugee status in order to resettle in western countries like USA, Australia and Europe. They live in the refugee camps unable to leave their encampment, sometimes for many years. Many young people have never been out of the camp. The illegal immigrants in Maesot can not officially work or be educated in Thai schools, and are thus subject to exploitation, poor living conditions, uncertain futures and the fear of being taken from their homes and sent back to Burma or imprisoned. There is an unofficial curfew after dark in fear that Thai police will pick them up so that may reach their official “quota’ to satisfy the government’s requirements. If they don’t carry money for a bribe they are simply taken from their families. It is a place where foreigners gather to study the needs of people, and help people with education, health care and work towards basic human rights. It is just this. It is a complex world where a foreigner can only slightly understand the layers and complexities of this area. It is Asia. It is thousands of miles from my home, my comforts and my culture, and I am deeply touched by it.

I continue my journey reflecting as I gaze out the window.

Next day: I am sitting next to the bridge over the River Khwai, where thousands of POWs died and suffered terrible conditions building the Burma /Thai railway for the Japanese during world war two. Tourists flock here in the thousands each day. It's a bazaar scene. Hundreds of tourists lining the bridge, walking the same foot steps as these men/soldiers. `Only the lonely' is blaring out through the crowd on the boom box by a guy hopeful to sell cheap CDs to the tourists. Cameras are flashing, groups of excited school children, bus loads of tourists and even monks line up in front of the bridge that Thai, Malay, Burmese, English, Australian and Japanese men died in the thousands, only sixty odd years ago. A few sober souls stand out amongst the crowd, obviously touched personally by the historic tragedy in some way.

I remember the impact that Auschwitz concentration camp had on me when I visited it. I was 19 years old. I remember the heart felt silence, the shock of the reality of war. My life was so far removed from the harshness of survival, and of death.

I have just walked through the Burma Railway museum filled with similar images of men reduced to skeletons, victims of disease, exposed to the cruelties and domination of soldiers of war, where people lost their souls in the wheels of war and power, and soldiers were left with the only thing left, mate ship and the hope of survival.

As I sit and watch the flow of people walking the bridge I am reminded of the bigger picture. I sit in silence alone. Perhaps this is one of the advantages of solo travel; I am in my own thoughts, free to absorb my own experiences and free to be immersed in my own mind.

My journeys through SE Asia this year have given me a deeper sense of history, people and myself, and a broader understanding of the effects of war and the resilience of the human spirit to fight for survival and renewal.

Cambodia is still very much in the recovery state; the infrastructure, the education system, business, politics and the family. It will take generations to rebuild itself after the collapse of the Pol Pot régime. I was 21years old at this time in history and traveling the world. The world was my oyster and I was oblivious to the terror unfolding for families in Cambodia. I knew nothing of terror or fear. My life has been blessed so it seems.

Vietnam and Laos are also rebuilding after the ‘American War” as they call it. Vietnam has remodeled itself to be a thriving business oriented nation, but is still in need of programs to support the poor and disadvantaged. Laos is still clearing bombs and dealing with reduced income from the unusable land still to be cleared of the American bombs that are still maiming their children and farmers. There is need for foreign aid, medical and educational assistance for these people. Yet the smiles and graciousness of Lao people are heart warming encounters. Their Buddhist beliefs seem to filter through their every day life and it is easily felt by foreigners.

However Burma’s ‘war’ is happening NOW. People are fleeing across the border everyday, and minority groups are in skirmishes with the government soldiers along its borders. People are still being taken to forced labor camps and used as ‘human mine detectors’ ahead of government forces. Children are malnourished along the border areas of Burma, with no medical supplies or foreign aid allowed into Burma. The government is still jailing its crusaders and villagers are still fighting for freedom, democracy and survival. And the world stands by. Few people are aware of this situation.

In some ways now I understand the ease of the tourist approach to seeing it all through a picture screen bus window. It’s a holiday experience, an interesting place to mark off on the tourist route of South East Asia. As a long term traveler I am still part of this industry of tourism that contributes, invades and changes the economy and customs of Asia, and other parts of the developing world. I bring with me the inevitable changes that come with economic growth, tourism and modernism that we call “progress” with the march of time that invades and pollutes the ancient cultures. .

I am a foreigner. But the more time I spend, the more I see, the more I feel and the more I get involved with the people and places I encounter. The exchanges become richer and my contribution helps, yet the more helpless I feel and the more complex the world becomes.

I have worked with impoverished children in Cambodia and taught at migrant schools in Maesot, I have contributed to creative endeavors of Burmese artists and donated clothing and money to the poor. My comfortable existence back home in Australia has been touched by the realities of others less fortunate and I will never see as I saw before.

So what can I do? I can write and paint, exhibit, and inform. On the ground I can fundraise and perhaps work with the consequences of war and poverty with my skills that I can share. I have met so many people here doing what they can, in small or significant ways. It all makes a difference to those less fortunate than us. I have been uplifted by the humility of people and the humanitarian attitudes of others. Life is full of caring people and projects and survival is what brings people together and creates hope in this world. All is not lost here. I guess anything is something, and more than just viewing the scene from my bus window.

Gallery: Thailand

victoria_handley — Sun, 28 Sep 2008 20:35:00 GMT

Thailand Sept 08: Mae Sot

victoria_handley — Sun, 28 Sep 2008 20:06:00 GMT

Mae Sot, 10 kilometer from the Myanmar (Burma as most people here prefer to call it) is a hub of foreign research and aid projects. There are thousands of illegal migrant workers here who have escaped Burma’s tyranny, civil unrest and warring between ethnic groups and the government’s and oppressive laws

Away from town and stretching all the way along the Thai and Burmese border are refugee camps, filled with hopeful people waiting for years, sometimes a life time, for resettlement in to countries throughout the world. Everyone I have talked to agree that they would rather be amongst their family in their home land but agree that the loss has not been great enough to take them back to a country where they live in fear and poverty.

Many people do not have enough to eat and education, although highly valued is not always possible, as children are needed to help with the family’s survival and are sent out to work either in the fields or on to the streets. Many young children are also taken to the army with a promise of food and shelter etc. Orphans are also taken in by the army and so the army becomes their way of life and family. There are 7,000 child soldiers in Burma.

Thai “brokers’ smuggle desperate truck loads of people across the border and down to Bangkok or the like to be used as cheap labor in factories, or young women as prostitutes.

One young man who I spoke with told me he paid 20,000 baht (about $600 US) , a huge amount for a Burmese to a broker who packed him and 20 others into a chicken truck, only to be caught and sent back across the border where he said he spent a month in the most terrible conditions in the jail. He was beaten, deigned food and crammed in to a 12x 8ft room with 20 others in unbelievable squalor. Others were taken to hard labor camps or used as human mine detectors. He said many workers that do make it to Bangkok are kept by their employer and become hooked on drugs as they are given amphetamines in order to keep working and so begins a cycle of degradation.

Other illegal migrant workers choose to stay in the border towns; some are lucky enough to make a life and home, many end up in what they call “sweat shops”. These are often women who are crammed in to small “factories” with no air flow or open windows or doors in fear of being caught. They sit behind sewing machines for long hours. The air is filled with fabric dust and they often suffer lung problems.

However there is hope too. Two days ago I visited a nursery school and centre that was set up by SAW (social action for women). This group provides support, housing and medical care and education for abandoned and orphaned children, women who have been raped and tortured, or who have HIV aids. The children I played with were like any other child, full of cheekiness, laughter and joy. There was an atmosphere of care and love. The young Burmese women who were in charge were part of the feeling of survival and positivity that seems to prevail over these conditions.

Yesterday I was invited to visit a school set up to house and educate children between the ages of five and seventeen who have been taken to the border by their parents and sent to “the other side” to be educated and hopefully have a better life. (Can you as a parent imagine being so desperate that you could do this for your children?). The problem for these children is that without official papers or refugee status even after being educated here in Mae Sot they will never be able to continue their education into university or officially have any support from the Thai government…that means access to health facilities unless they stay around the border towns where the Burmese and foreign aid can assist with unofficial jobs, housing, health and education. These are the people from what I have learnt so far who are in real need of support.

My friend here who has spent over a year in Burma and has just returned from a few days in a refugee camp teaching “ultimate frizbee” with a troop attached to DARE (drug and alcohol R,…not rehabilitation, something else) said that the camps seem to be well supplied with foreign aid and are quite well established villages. They can not leave the camps but have established a life there waiting for resettlement some where in the world. But I will see for my self when I visit one close to here next week with the principle from the school that I mentioned above.

Tomorrow I am invited to go back to the school where I will take some paper and crayons, a frizbee or two and some beads and twine. The older children I spoke with had quite good English skills as they have a wonderful 81 year old Burmese woman teacher living with them who learnt English from the British before and after the Japanese left during the second world war. She was such a beautiful old lady. She held my hand most of the time and the lines on her face showed her charm and wisdom.

The political and refugee situation (more and more people are crossing the border) are getting worse and the release and incarceration of political prisoners and activists is still no further ahead. The leaders for a democratic government are being silenced. The Burmese are afraid to speak out and so non violent protesting actions and event such as the killing of the protesting monk last year and the refusal of foreign aid after the cyclone here this year, still seem to be the only way possible to raise the awareness of the Burmese problems to rest of the world.

These are the experiences that make my travel filled with meaning and give a broader perspective on life. What it will mean in the long run for me is yet to be discovered, but I have been filled with humanity and the awareness of the struggle of others, particularly the children in Asia and these experiences have certainly put a new perspective on my own life.

China Jan 08: Jinghong

victoria_handley — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 23:33:00 GMT

Jinghong is 70klm from Burma’s boarder and about 200klm from Laos. It’s streets are lined with palm trees. Its footpaths are paved in colourful tiles and people can cross the road at a comfortable pace. I spoke to one “European”, who happened to be Aussie, and saw one other couple who had obviously spent far too long in Thailand and were wearing brightly coloured matching shirts and shorts. Mostly it’s just me and a sea of black hair. You might say ‘I stick out in a crowd”.

The botanic gardens are bursting with familiar tropical fruits, such as macadamia, custard apple, mango, banana, avocado, coffee etc. An amazing bridge spans the mighty Mekong River and there is a mixture of groovy modern shops as well as traditional Chinese shops crammed with their specialties such as tea, herbs, spices, and dried things unknown to me. And at the moment there are shops full of people and fire crackers and red shiny paper things ready for the Chinese New Year celebrations that start on the 6th Feb. It seems to be different from the rest of China that I’ve seen. People are more relaxed. There is a different ethnic mix.

At night the town comes alive. The Aussie guy had told me to go to the park. “It’s worth the look” he said and so I did. Wow…everyone was there ….. the park wrapped around a small artificial lake with water features lit up after dark, just beautiful ….the grounds were immaculately manicured and people of all ages swarmed around.

I wandered around taking in the relaxed atmosphere. There was a group of about 100 people of all ages doing what looked like a cross between line dancing and tai chi. I watched with heart felt amusement as one obviously senile old man had the time of his life, and must have looked forward to this time of day each evening. It was very relaxing and a positive way to see the community’s attitude towards health, fitness and well being.

As I sat I was approached by a number of masseurs that came with oils to sooth the feet and shoulders. Food vendors passed by, but nobody hassled me. Eventually I came to rest beside an older woman to sit and listen to two musicians. Another woman held out the song book (written in Chinese) and invited me to join in. The older woman offered me a piece of cardboard to sit on. It was wonderful to have an experience like this in China.

Parks are fascinating places to spend time. The next group of people over my shoulder that caught my eye was another musician again playing an instrument that I do not know the name of but is played with a bow and has a long neck joined to a coconut shaped end. Slowly a crowd gathered and joined in the circle dance…two steps forward, one back, with a few hand movements from side to side. I was asked to join in but was too shy to try ( silly me I thought!!!) A short walk away there was a loud and excited crowd packed around a central figure who was singing passionately into a karaoke machine. There was some kind of money exchange going on. It rather looked like gambling to me. I just couldn’t understand what was going on, but nobody could speak English so I never found out.

Yep, the trip to the park was worth while and the walk back to my dingy hotel very pleasant…it was certainly comforting to be in a warm climate again…and tomorrow I’ll be on my way to Laos…yippee…looking forward to it.

Gallery: Laos

victoria_handley — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 22:12:00 GMT

Cambodia: Last Day 23rd July

victoria_handley — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 02:19:00 GMT

I think the last I wrote was from this café in Phnom Penh 2 months ago. It’s still hot and sticky so my position in front of the fan is a blessing. Seeing this is my last day here in Cambodia I thought I should do a rough summary to keep you up to date. Sihanoukville, the project and the people I met through this experience and travel, have been certainly an intense one. I was told when I first arrived, that this “paradise” had a strangle way of challenging people on many fronts and that people are often faced with themselves in very profound ways. Wow that was an understatement!

I lived in the most beautiful situation, over looking the whole bay, the highest position on the bay. I was the only one staying in the guest house for the last two months after my time in Vietnam. Very beautiful, but very alone. I had my paints, easel, my ukulele and my computer. Next door at Cloud Nine GH I developed a group of friends, where I spent most of my social time. Many hours were spent in contemplation staring at the horizon. I have never had so much time to do seemingly nothing. The mentoring program took a few hours every afternoon with two to three children in my studio working with oil paints and canvas. That was very rewarding.

As I have mentioned before Cambodia is a nation in recovery. It’s recent history and the huge gap between the rich and the poor is shocking to say the least. The rich get richer and the poor, more desperate. People are just surviving here. Many don’t.

A week ago two young girls drowned in front of a whole beach of people. Nobody except one or two “barang” (foreigners) jumped in to try and save them. No Cambodians (yes they can swim). After my friend missed finding the girls by only feet, he came from the surf without them…it was devastating to all that saw….yet within fifteen minutes two other young girls were joking with my friends about going for a swim now…devastating to the volunteers that were there. Another young man who was staying at cloud nine said that when all was lost he went to the jet ski owner to see if he could hire one to try and recover the bodies. He was told it would be $100!!!!! Shocking! Eventually one body was washed ashore and the other was found the next day in a fisherman’s net. He would not give the body to the mother unless she paid $300!!!!! ( an average cambodian’s wage is 25 to 70 dollars per month).

This is just one example how different things are here…survival: challenging on many fronts. Yet children are children, and people here also manage to be gracious and friendly, and hope always prevails where there is faith. Everywhere there is construction…building more and more Buddhists temples throughout the country. The Pol pot regime banned all religions other than allegiance to Ankor. So there is still a growing faith and hope for the future. People don’t like to dwell on the past or even talk about it.

I will write more about the children and how their life is different from our children’s in another letter…there is so much to say…so much learning and so much more awareness of how life is different outside our comfortable homes. We should all be so grateful for what we have. So many people all over the world live with “survival” as their motivation for living. We have so many choices about how we live our lives.

…..I am now in Vietnam again staying with my friend Inge. We are going away for the weekend with a group of expats for walking adventure…but from a beach resort…different from my usual adventure…but hey…what ever presents!

I spent a wonderful week with my sister gale..we travelled around the country side and were taken to a friends home village and had a rare insight into their lives here. We travelled and laughed and cried together..such good and sometime intense times, and I appreciated every second with her. So special, as we don't get to spend such times together usually. Thankyou gale! Perfect timing.

I will spend the next few weeks doing some more travel…will go on an “easy rider “ tour in the mountains, then on to stay with another friend in Hoi an, then back down to the delta region and then fly to Bangkok. After that I’m not sure what…but hope to see jeff, then I plan to do some courses…cooking, meditation, massage…what ever I feel drawn to. At the moment I’m thinking I will come home a bit earlier to travel down to Tassy in my little car packed up with camping gear and some painting and writing equipment…so will call into see as many people as I can. I’m still deciding what I will be doing next year, but that will come clearer as time rolls on.

At the moment I am trying to digest all that has happened in the passed few months and trying to remain positive and moving forward to enjoy the life I have been blessed with.

Cambodia Mar 08: Volunteering at Cambodian Children's Painting Project

victoria_handley — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 02:06:00 GMT

Cambodia June 08: Volunteering up date

victoria_handley — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 01:56:00 GMT

Volunteering at Cambodia Children’s Painting Project Up date

It is another wet, windy and stormy day here in Sihanoukville. There is the constant crashing of waves on the beach and one could even take advantage of the waves for a little surfing if so inclined. Me, well I’m content to sit back from my roof top and over look the scene. The islands are barely in view as the squalls come over and sweep a blanket of mist and rain across the water towards me. It is very pleasant temperature for a change so I’m enjoying the cool. Everything feels damp and mold is beginning to grow. It’s not even the wet season yet!

Being back at the project after being away for a month is a whole different experience from being on the road and from when I was here a month ago. This year I have met many people who have been doing a week or two volunteering in orphanages or the like. The volunteer/tourist industry is a big thing in Asia and seems like a very popular experience to have here amongst foreigners. I wonder though, how good it is for the children as many are not well run (not all of course) and profiteering seems to be a focus rather than the well being and long term outcomes for the children.

I see many volunteers being satisfied and emotionally connected to these projects/children. The children lap it up. I also see how much people come and go for these children.. The relationships and trust are built up, children soak up the attention and affection, and then the people leave. There is a constant flow of people leaving in their lives.

Early childhood theory supports that it is paramount for the developing child, and their future relationships to provide at least one primary carer who can provide security, trust and guidance. Most of the children who come to our centre come from dysfunctional and vulnerable families, and are often exposed to abuse and neglect. It is the organizations responsibility to provide security, guidance and support for these children. For this reason I feel there is a need for volunteer programs to focus on stability, information exchange between volunteers and management, and ongoing training for staff and volunteers to provide quality environments for these children.

Achieving some sort of consistency in boundaries, behaviour management and guidance has been a (from my point of view) a problem for these children (and volunteers), and so it has been a focus since if been back at CCPP to address these issues. Communication boards, weekly meeting, agreed “rules” for children, and a behaviour management approach have been addressed.

Although the project is focused around painting, the aim is to keep the children safe and away from direct selling on the beach and the sex trade, potentially earn an income from the sale of their paintings to support their families needs, and to ensure that they attend school. We take care of basic health needs, education and provide fresh water and nutritious food each day. We provide positive role models and relationships and most of all provide an atmosphere filled with fun, laughter and stimulation. Children love to come to the centre where they get love and support and friendship. Fortunately we have three people on staff and are now looking at only taking people who can stay for at least two months.

As there is sometimes at least 30 to 60 children attending through out the day, with most never having had any parental guidance or support, the behaviour at the centre is sometimes like chaos….particularly when we have a language barrier and many volunteers with their own ways of doing things. Many volunteers are often driven to tears. Creating an effective team and atmosphere is certainly worthwhile for these kids, the volunteers and the project in general.

Over the passed three months I have seen so many changes. It is a constant work in progress, so it is exciting to see and be involved with it’s evolution. Our project manager is dedicated to the project and sees the potential of where it can go. He also loves his role and the kids so it is great to have such a committed young man for CCPP. There is a wonderful resource of skill and interests that the volunteers bring to the project and we are now working at utilizing them as much as possible. For example at present we have someone from an IT background completing a register of children and helping with the web site. We have a social worker who will be helping to train our Cambodian social out reach worker. We have an illustrator, a sociologist/English teacher, another artist and a journalist…just to name a few. …all these wonderful people…but again they/we come and go. I have been keen to set up systems so we can have a flow of communication and information between volunteers, staff and the children creating consistency and understanding of acceptable behaviour and some rules. Eg, using bins, washing hands, no kicking balls inside, fighting…basic stuff for our kids in the west, but a whole new way for these ones. I can see progress already, but slowly slowly.

Since being back I have implemented the “ artist mentoring program” and the painting tuition at my studio is going well, although the weather is a bit difficult when the wind blows through. Two children at a time come to paint on larger canvas and with proper oil paints. Some can listen, others not. The attention span is short, and I work with them as best I can, depending on the age and English language skills…. Slowly slowly! They come up with some wonderful work.. Mostly I just let them go for it.

I tried to talk about the theme ”dreams “ for example which is the theme for the exhibition we are working towards in Sweden. Some get it…others just do there usual subjects….sunsets, palm trees fish and water.

My most enthusiastic and talented girl came in (15yrs) the other day and said she thought she would paint a ‘bad’ dream. She is good with figures and proceeded to draw up her subjects. There were four female figures, all with limbs or heads missing, dripping blood. (beautifully painted I might add). When I inquired she told me that it was about the Khmer Rouge and the stories she had been told by her mother. A very powerful painting!

Another boy (12yrs) had tried drawing me while we sat the day before. The next day he wanted to do it again (as he had been acknowledged for his efforts the day before). He drew me in the rocking chair but I was a spec in the middle of the canvas… after we looked at the space he decided to fill it with four butterflies, put wings on me to match, and changed me into a flying position…nice!!!! (my dream ?)

I hope this program will continue as it is obvious the children benefit in many ways ie. skill development, self esteem, concentration etc etc.

We plan to be able to take a few kids at a time out into the environment to expand their subject matter. The first trip will be to the boat harbour and to visit a Cambodian artist’s professional studio (once a month we take the children on a special outing; the water fall, the snake house, out for dinner, or throw a party). The kids love the excitement of it all and have a wonderful time. The delight on the children’s faces says it all!!!

We now have balls, skipping ropes, bat mitten, a few board games, some shabby books, puzzles and of course the very popular lego blocks that I brought with me.(diminishing rapidly unfortunately)

Every thing is given a beating. They don’t know how to respect equipment (they have never had the opportunity to learn) or how to be responsible for it. But we now have places it can all be stored safely and a few mats and tables to set up an interesting environment for them. Sounds simple….but believe me it’s a slow process, but little by little with a cohesive team we are achieving wonderful progress with these kids and the project in general. They love coming to CCPP and some children are there waiting at 8am and leave at five.

So…that’s a bit of what I am doing over here. The rest of the time I am either sitting down at the bar /restaurant at Cloud nine bungalows (next door to my studio/apartment) with my friends who work/own it, or at home on the computer, practicing my ukulele, or drawing and reading. Life is simple and the pace very slow, the heat and humidity debilitating at times. I have never had so much “self time” but am accepting it as part of the challenge. It will be a shock to go back to the pace of a rigid work routine again…but then again quite comforting. I have no idea what the next year will look like at this point, but I hope I will be able to integrate some of what I am experiencing and learning into the future.

Cambodia 25th May: Reflections from Phom Penh

victoria_handley — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 01:49:00 GMT

It’s another hot day in Phnom Penh, Cambodia,

I am having an iced coffee in cafe with fans blowing from all directions. The noise of motor bikes, cars and sounds of the constant building of this city is almost familiar now and the atmosphere of PP comforting like “home” again after a month away in Vietnam.

It is my first free day alone for quite some time….so I’m taking it easy and not filling it with too much to do. I will wait until siesta is over at two o’clock before I hop on a moto and get busy with some jobs I have to do before returning to Sihanoukville.

Yesterday I met up with my friend Merrick from Byron who happened to be passing on his way back from Butan. It was quite surreal to be dancing on the top of a river boat sailing down the Mekong at sunset last night. His friend knows many ex pats here so we were invited to join their party.

There are many people I meet doing amazing things with their lives…lots involved with humanitarian projects, trying to get this nation back on it’s feet. I expect that it will take many generations to overcome the traumas of the past. Everything seems in disrepair and there are mountains of rubbish and rubble everywhere, but somehow the people here remain able to smile and show their graciousness. Survival is a powerful incentive.

With each boarder crossing there are significant changes to the people and economy, as well as attitudes towards tourism and life in general. (our lives have been so protected from war in Australia…at least in my community and experience). Here life is implicitly attached to the past. Vietnam is a dynamic nation, business wise and developing strongly with tourism, and education. Laos is a few years behind with the influence of a strong Buddhist faith and a growing but still under developed tourist trade (although it won’t be long before they catch up). They are gentle and smiling people. Here the overwhelming sense is a nation in ‘recovery’.

I have gained a lot of insight and understanding of the “Vietnam War”…although they call it the ‘American War’.. it was initially hard to understand who they were calling ‘the enemy’ …depending on whether you were in the north or south , but generally the museums refer to the Americans…even in the south. They don’t seem to refer to the fracture between the Vietnamese people and politics since the reunification…it still refers to the American insurgence and brutality. Interesting…their politics don’t seem to have changed much.

‘The secret war’ in Laos and Cambodia has taken a huge toll on the people, land use and economies. The millions of landmines and ‘bombies’…cluster bombs that were sprayed out all over the countryside means that people are still being blown up and/or not farming land that they previously relied on for their livelihood. It’s a very sad situation but slowly the world and their own people are clearing the mines. If I sent you a forwarded petition about Australian’s attitude towards bombing at a world forum soon…please read and respond…we can all just help a little bit.

Change of subject….by next week end I will be back at CCPP….a new phase. It will be different arriving back this time with a knowledge of the people and tasks ahead of me. When I left a month ago I felt satisfied that my presence was appreciated and my skills well used. This time I will have an emphasis on painting and developing work with some of the interested kids for an international kids art exhibition in Sweden. I also hope that my own work takes off, as my own practice didn’t really get going last time. Hopefully the heat will be more tolerable now that the wet season approaches. I am going back with fresh eyes and more materials to inspire me.

Jeff and I had a fabulous time together. We traveled through north Vietnam in local buses through the mountains and into remote places. We bicycled through paddy fields and climbed well trodden paths. We drank rice wine with the villagers and ate exotic foods. (Jeff managed to eat dog, and duck embryos, but my best effort was fried silk worms) We were challenged by the events of the everyday and delighted by the encounters we had with the different ethnic tribes people.

During our last week we went back to cat ba Island where I started this adventure in January. We went Kayaking and rock climbing and cought up with old friends (Slo says hellow to Kerrelen and Russel)….this time I managed to climb to the top of all three faces…with no fear…only a few cuts and bruises…yippee.!

Jeff is now back in the UK to visit his family for a month after a year away. He will join me again in a few months to start traveling through Thailand and indo and eventually to Australia.

One thing I have learnt is that you just don’t know what life will throw at you from one day to the next. I guess the only thing we have is the belief in ourselves, and the trust that things have a way of working things out the way it is meant to be. The other wonderful thing is that we have choice in life and for that I am eternally grateful.

It’s getting time to get on with the days chores….looking into getting postcards printed of the kids work and source of canvas.

Great to have this rave with you all. I will attempt to reply individually to all your emails now that I have more time to myself…thanks for the contacts. I love receiving even the most everyday type news from home. Love you all…Victoria XXX

Vietnam July 08: Snorkle at Nha Trang

victoria_handley — Thu, 25 Sep 2008 20:33:00 GMT

Today I am on a dive boat off Nha Trang, Vietnam. The snorkeling is beautiful, clear and warm enough to keep me there; lots of fish, coral, all shapes and sizes. Yet, while am under the sea gliding through the water my mind is still active. Occasionally I concentrate on the beauty below me, the wonder of the under water world. I am only there. Then there is the silence of my thoughts again. I am still putting together this year; experiences, conversations, memories, feelings, meditation of a kind. I am confronted with myself, my values, and my experiences. I am tired of my own thoughts, yet I cherish this time alone, time to reflect. It’s a peaceful experience below the surface.

Each day gives reason for challenge, a chance meeting, a conversation, a moment. My moment yesterday…..a “ high five” with a young girl holding a sickle coming back from the rice field walking along the side of the road as a whizzed past on my “easy rider” motor cycle….white silk scarf flowing behind me. We smiled and our fingers tingled for just a few moments. Contact! Beautiful! And then it was gone, that moment, yet it remains in me, my experience, a joyful moment. So many have I had this year.

Today…a conversation with the dive master, a handsome French/Canadian living his “second life’ in Asia after 12 years in the army…surviving on is pension and thrills of work on the boats and the social life where ever he goes. His story ….twelve months spent in a Cambodian prison! Corruption and Cambodian opportunism, from young girls and families taking the opportunity to extort the tourists. The victimization is passed around and around. There are young girls exploited by European men, brothels used and accepted by Cambodian men, set-ups, pay-offs, sex crimes, pedophilia, prostitution, extortion from judges and lawyers to parents and impoverished children. The cycle continues around and around.

How does this reflect on me? Where do I sit with it all? What am I learning? Do I dare have an opinion, a right to judge? I shrug. Is it acceptance of difference? I think that’s what it is: “God help me to change the things I can, and accept the things I can not.”

Is our society any better than theirs? No. Corruption, power, greed, the ego out of control, and aggression, lack of respect for one another our environment, absence of integrity, family break down, divorce, adultery, deception, it goes on and on…all part of my/our world. I see it. I experience it. I feel it’s degradation. What can I change? Only me and the choices I make about how I live my life. This is all I can do. Forever learning and growing. Living life with love not fear ruling my actions….compassion, and understanding not judgment. Being true to my own values, myself, and others. Living my life with integrity. This is what I can do and what I choose.

Deep sigh……This year is certainly challenging on lots of fronts, but reconfirming that I am on the right path for me. Ever expanding, never closed to not seeing, heart felt about all my experiences, sincere and respectful.

Cambodia July 08: Walk to Otres Beach

victoria_handley — Wed, 24 Sep 2008 21:15:00 GMT

My walk to Otres Beach. : Where there is light, there is shadow”

Monday 7^th July

It was my day off and as I didn’t have many days left in here in Sihanoukville I thought today would be the perfect day to achieve that objective. The clouds were grey and covering the sky, the breeze fresh. Not too hot.

So off I set down through Cloud Nine Bungalows, said my mornings greetings with a smile. My first encounter was with Manet and his friend up from the waters edge at “Serenity”…next door. We chatted then they asked, ”Where are you going?”

“Otres”, I said. They looked at me then at each other. “Be careful.” On I walked, then spun around and delivered my camera back to Manet to take care of. I thought “I can loose $10 and even take the risk with my ipod….but not the camera”. There has been a number of incidents and robberies along this expansive beach.

My hair was still wet from the morning shower, and it kept me cool as the breeze blew through my hair. The beach was busy with the usual tourists soaking up the sun and being entertained by the children who sell beads, the masseurs, and the food sellers. Towards the middle of the beach it moves into Cambodian picnickers and holiday makers amusing themselves in large family or teenage groups. In the water the ‘banana boat’ being pulled by the speed boat as well as the noisy jet skis fill the air with screams of delight and laughter. Everybody is playing.

As I walked along I was pleased for the low tide, as the fresh strip of white sand was devoid of plastic and Styrofoam tossed to the ground by the unconscious Cambodian tourists. Low tide is when you can walk easily without having to step amongst the rubbish.

I was feeling lighter and more centered in myself than I have been for the passed few weeks.

My next encounter was with my favourite Vietnamese lady who sells freshly made tofu spring rolls from her stall that she carries on her shoulder, with two baskets of produce balancing both sides. She made me up a takeaway package for $1 (she gave me ten instead of the usual eight!). A bottle of water then off I set looking for a nice shady spot to have my morning meal.

The water was clear and calm. As I walked across the sand, as the beach stretched out to open space, there was a group of young monks going into the water for play. Their orange robes were easily wrapped in to orange bathers.. I wondered about their lives, what they learn and how they live their lives.

I have met many young men who have spent up to ten years in a monastery, then for what ever reason they leave to run ‘normal’ lives. These young men often have offered wonderful insights in to life (far beyond their years) that demonstrate deep wisdom, understanding and consciousness.

Paul and Manet (Cambodian friends from Cloud nine) have come out with some gems when the moment has been perfect. Manet recently said to me, “Victoria, you must know your own measurements, for a carpenter can not build a thing without knowing his measurements first. If you build something with out measurement it will not hold together, it can not be repaired, or rebuilt.” Another Paul offered to a friend was “he throws a beautiful diamond in to the sea to pick up a small stone”.

I glanced up into the shade of the trees that lines the beach to see three older monks wrapped comfortably in their robes. I was touched by the tranquility that seemed to emanate from them.

Two hundred meters on, the shade came down to sand and I found a rock to perch myself on to enjoy my little picnic with myself. There was a curious feeling of caution. I had because of the many warnings I had heard about this beach. I was alert but relaxed.

When a young man appeared I kept my eye on him as he appeared to be searching for crickets and walking in large circles down to the waters edge then around behind me. I noticed the circle getting smaller and as I finished my picnic and slid the bottle of water in to my backpack I looked up to see he was right beside me! He had a stupid look on his face and as I stood up and offered a quick hello, sure enough he had his penis out the front of his pants and was attempting to jerk himself off!!! By this time I was standing tall, looked him in the eyes and with my finger pointing at him like a mother telling a small child ‘naughty boy’ I said “GO AWAY” then again more assertively “GO AWAY”. How pathetic and sad I thought as I strode off, back to the wet sand.

A number of thoughts and feelings flashed by, but none of them were attached to fear strangely enough. I was centred and alert to every thing around me.

It reminded me how sick humanity can be and the feelings I had the night before.

I was sitting on sunset staring out to the islands when I noticed a man my age come down from the bungalows with a young Khmer woman. The conversation at dinner was obviously not flowing and there were a lot of silent moments between them. Later three middle aged Australian men came (gold coast type: over suntanned, muscular and with gold chains…they probably reeked of aftershave!) to have a meal with two Khmer women all dressed up to the nines. Five minutes passed before one was patting his lap and had his trophy nicely nestled. EERRK…middle aged men with a problem.

Where ever I go I am confronted with the ‘light’ and the ‘shadow’. There is good and bad in every situation it seems. Life is the oscillation between the two, but the journey towards the ‘light’ (or staying in it) is certainly preferable….but not always possible.

As you know walking is great for centering yourself. The wind was still fresh and I was at least half way.

Occasionally a woman would pass going the opposite direction towards the tourist end of the beach with freshly cooked crabs or shells to sell. We smiled at each other and walked on. Just behind the sand there were Cambodian small soft grey cows grazing on the grass between blown plastic caught by the sparse vegetation. There were more small groups of people, a couple of tourist joggers and the occasional motor bike driver just sitting and staring out to sea. Occasionally also, you see two Cambodian lovers in an embrace away from others. It is a peaceful scene, but mostly I am with myself, just taking in this moment in my life.

The rest of the walk was without incident, so by the time I reached the small fishing village at the end I was at peace with were I am at this point in my life/ my day and felt accepting of all the challenges I have faced along this journey during this year (and life in general).

“ The light and the shadow.”…Cambodia, in fact life, is full of this duality.

During this year I have had many hours, days and weeks alone with not a lot to fill them other than myself. It has been a time of great reflection and learning…..stillness like I have never known…very little external goings on to take me away from myself.

So today as I sit at Otres beach I am at peace, and feel fulfillment once again. I am grateful my life , my friends and family and also for the opportunities to learn. I feel accepting of the way things are, joy in what I am doing and enthusiastic for life and who I am.

Thank you all for being a part of my life

(and congratulations for enduring this rave!!!!)

With love, Victoria XXX

Laos Feb 08: Rivers of time

victoria_handley — Wed, 24 Sep 2008 21:08:00 GMT

Rivers of Time 20/2/08

I sit overlooking the river from our restaurant/ guest house in Vangvieng in Laos. The sun is about to disappear behind the layers of limestone karsts. These steep sided craggy cliffs are impregnated with huge intricate caves systems… The Lao people live beneath them in villages built from mainly bamboo and more recently concrete and timber. They wear happy smiles and greet the many tourists that walk amongst them with open hearts and ‘Sa wa de” greetings.

Yesterday we biked for 8klm to reach a blue lagoon and cave network. The road was hot a very bumpy as the surface had been built up from the river stones quarried from the beautiful green flowing river that runs through their town, and is the basis for the tourism trade here. From where I sit now I can see a stream of similar tourists returning from the same trip across the suspension bridge and back into town where they will party in the bars and enjoy the ambiance of this town with other travelers and backpackers. It is a beautiful place with a feeling of relaxation, fun, beauty and playfulness.

But to every thing it seems there is another side or perspective, an ethical dilemma, and it comes with the inevitable consequences of tourism. Yesterday as we crossed the bridge a group of small children, perhaps four or five years old who had been previously playing in the cool water s of the river, their playground, came up to us with out stretched hands, “money”…”pens”. I was saddened. Again today the same thing happened as we passed more children on their way home from school. This is a place where the land is rich and farmland and food is not in short supply. Children go to school and there is a degree of opportunity from the every increasing tourist trade. The carpet bombing by the Americans during the war did not reach this part of the country. The culture, the land and it’s people, from what I see here are rich with what life has to offer. Families work and play together and everyone seems to have a sense of belonging.

Everywhere I go I am conscious of the influence I have on these cultures. I also understand that change is the ever present consequence of time. As the river flows passed me now, so does the influence of time (and tourism).

One of the most outstanding impressions I left with after visiting the Khmu village in the mountains on our 3 day trek was their sense of playfulness alongside their usefulness or their role within their society. Children spent the day at school, and by the afternoon they were doing the chores required of them…building a fire for the kitchen, sweeping the leaves into a pile , or caring for the young siblings strapped to their back …young boys and girls from the age of seven or eight attentive to the baby’s every need. Amongst this was the laughter of children playing. Even now as the light fades over the river the air is filled with laughter and giggles, children playing in the river.

In the villages I see games that have long gone out of fashion in our society. I see girls doing elastics, and skipping, jacks (played with tamarind seeds), pick up sticks with freshly cut stalks, and boys playing volley ball and soccer with woven cane balls. I see two year old children dragging around a eight inch knife blades, teenagers laughing and hooting (as male teenagers do) high in a tree over hanging the river, and young boys ferrying the long boats across the river before in our society they would be considered old enough to swim let alone take on responsibility for themselves or others.

When I walk through the town it is filled with bars and internet cafes. Televisions blare out repeat episodes of the American sitcom “Friends”. Almost every village house, even in the most remote locations has a satellite dish attached to them for their TV reception. In one house in northern Vietnam that I was invited into, my heart and hope for these innocent people was gutted when amongst the smoke filled atmosphere of the rough cut timber slab cottage, the only light other than one dim light bulb around which four young girls sat sewing their traditional cross stitch embroidery, was the green glow of the television. There were seven or eight young children gathered around it, transfixed on it’s action. They were completely unaware of us in their home. They were bare foot on the concrete floor. The temperature was freezing, and out side was still and thick with fog. The inside of the one roomed home was blackened by the smoke from the internal cooking fire, and smoked meat and corn hung from the high pitched ceiling. Large sacks of rice were also stored up high from the latest crop to provide food for the coming year. They were watching an American cops and robbers shoot ‘em up show… just horrible!

It seems that we have the ability to pass on some of our most dreaded values…violence, greed, mistrust and dishonesty. Although I must admit I have not personally experienced the above here, I fear it will come with the ever increasing advance of tourism and technology as it is so closely associated with the western desire for power and material wealth.

Perhaps the gentle nature and graciousness of this largely predominately Buddhist nation has been saved thus far. And perhaps I myself am mistrusting the very nature of the Loa people, after all as I witness the horrific scenes of war and torture painted in graphic detail on the walls of their Watts, their most holy places of worship these scenes are there as a reminder of the strength of forgiveness and acceptance. And I also see many westerners impressed and greatly moved by the beauty they experience in the Lao people. Perhaps in the progress of time we are to be the ones to benefit by this cross pollination of cultures. Perhaps with time it is our culture that will be reminded of what we had in the past and what can be achieved in the future if we look closely at the nations we travel to before “progress’ wipes them away!

Laos Feb 2008 A monk's smile

victoria_handley — Tue, 23 Sep 2008 18:31:00 GMT

Ok I've got half an hour before the monks start chanting...and if I don't go to the temple before i leave here I will be forever regretful of it. Earlier today I sat by the Mekong, where it is met by one of it's tributaries the Num Cum...( I spent three hours kayaking down it yesterday...more later) There's a bamboo bridge that spans the water. It is held together with twine and and woven bamboo...you have to buy a ticket to cross ($4... which is quite acceptable but a little steep I think...as this town runs on tourism). The water is fast and muddy. There are big bolders on either side and plenty of sand banks and shallow areas. The muddy banks are covered with neatly oraganised vegetable gardens. It's a perfect meeting place. There were children laughing and screaming and teenages whooping as the water pulled them along and on and off the rocks. But mostly i was aware of all the young monks in their orange robes sitting , talking laughing and joking with each other. I sat close by and when one group of novice monks left...one remained to talk with me. His smile stretched across his face . He spoke , as most Loa do, in a very soft and humble manner. He lived in the temple with 9 other novices and three monks on this side (non town side) of the river. It is saturady so they were not at school. he had not seen his family since he was thirteen...but will see them again when he is twenty...he missed them very much. We laughed together at his mate monk who was down by the river having a cigarette....very bad! These are the precious moments that make travelling such a joy.!

Cambodia Feb 2008: A Country in recovery

victoria_handley — Tue, 23 Sep 2008 18:25:00 GMT

With each border crossing evrything changes, people's faces, the smells, traffic, food, currency and history.

Yesterday I visited the “Killing Fields” about 15klm south of Phnom Penh in Cambodia. I am only just beginning to understand the enormity of the trauma the Cambodian people have suffered only two decades ago…about the time when I was comfortably creating my utopia and young family, and following my ideals of living an alternative, subsistent life in the hills on the north coast of NSW. At this point in time many of us had idealistic expectations and choices of lifestyle. It seemed like our right.

Two days ago I bought a paperback, one of many offered to tourists wanting to learn more, from a young street girl with her box of books trawling the cafes and bars along the popular water front frequented by tourists. The story is written by a young woman who survived the horrendous Poll Pot regime. It is gob smacking!

As I sat in the back of the tuk tuk going out of town I was stuck by the smile of my driver when we caught each others eyes in his rear view mirrors. It would have been a fantastic photo, had I captured it. So I grappled for my camera to catch it again perhaps by chance. It was a beautiful moment and one I have come across many times in only the few days that I have been here. Amongst all the hustle and bustle of a busy, noisy, dirty, poverty stricken city these people constantly show a propensity to smile and be gracious towards strangers. It warms my heart.

I had my camera on my arm ready to try and find another magic moment but soon pulled into the entrance to the genocide museum site. As I approached the monument piled high with human skulls and bones I placed a flower and lit some incense as my heart sank deep into my chest. I reached into my bag to capture the moment but there was no camera. My precious camera……gone!. My camera that has been so much part of this journey as a constant companion and tool for communication and fun with it’s subjects. I couldn’t believe it. I don’t usually loose things….not my camera. It was a sentimental gift from my family when I turned fifty….NO.!!!!! Of course I ran back to my tuk tuk and retraced my steps. Then I lent on the wall facing the monument…the reminants of people tortured and thrown in to mass graves. Women and children beaten to death by hoes against ‘the torture tree’ that still grows on the site. The field is littered with pieces of their clothing as it makes it way to the surface again after being buried for twenty years.

My eyes where swelling and tears were running freely down my face as I my loss paled into insignificance. A sobering moment that I will hopefully always remember when I get too close to relatively unimportant or ‘precious’ events around materialism and comfort. I have so much to be thankful for.

I finished my sad walk around ‘the killing fields’ and sat under a tree to digest the events and sucked on a fresh cocoanut from a straw with the tuk tuk driver and other various interested Cambodians. We discussed the camera and the possible scenarios.

I had to get back in to the practicalities of course….Insurance ….Police statement ……and so the afternoon unfolded.

Three hours later I immerged from the complex but very third world experience. My thumb was coloured red from the ink that sealed the official document with my print. I couldn’t help but reflect on the “seriousness of the crime”. I was interrogated by four different policemen, each gaining in rank. I was taken from the initial concrete roadside hut (that in no way resembled a police station except for the two large sweaty men who hastily put on their official shirts when we pulled up), just around the bend from “the site”.

The poor tuk tuk driver who by his time had not been proven innocent by the policemen had his vehicle searched and five minutes later two more people arrived after a two way radio discussion in khamer over the air had broadcasted our troubles. Another two Cambodians on motor bikes arrived. One was young, smiling and English speaking (he turned out to be the museum guide) , the other was the observer and I gathered a police trainee. After again repeating the story about four or five times with Khmer conversations going every which way we were then taken to another stone and concrete building closer to the genocide site. Empty except for a table covered with printed vinyl and a cupboard. We were sat down around the table to repeat yet again the whole “complicated story’. Again I saw my story being mimed by mimicking my hands and gestures describing how I had my camera on my arm and had the case on the other, then had taken it off to put one inside the other (this proved to them that in fact I had not left it in my hotel room) and we went through how I had taken it out when I saw my drivers smile…and so it went on and on. The whole charade at this point felt like I was in a slow motion comedy movie set. I was quietly at peace with it all and wishing I had my camera to record it!

Then came the paperwork! My statement in English, then interpreted through the guide and written in khmer scrip by number three policeman. Trainee policeman eventually hoped on his bike to get four copies made somewhere, returned fifteen minutes later and then came the official certification handwritten on each copy, after which another top ranking policeman emerged from another room….more discussion, reading of scripts, questions and signatures and then he asked me through the interpreter what country I was from and how old I was!!!! Mmmm? Something was said by him. They all quietly and shyly laughed. “What did he say”, I said… “He said you don’t look that old!!!!” By this time it was turning into a mellow comedy fest in my mind.

The tuk tuk driver had long felt relieved when I adamantly had insisted that I was not making a complaint about him…and we both just wanted to get the hell on our way. Finally I was ushered into THE room where HE stamped each piece of paper twice ever so carefully and my official thumb seal completed the transaction. They handed me the original and kept three copies. Three hours late we slid back to the tuk tuk.

I couldn’t help but reflect of the farce ness of it all when only twenty years ago people on the same road had been herded in to similar official buildings and kept alive overnight only because they could not keep up with the slaying of so many on the same day of their arrival.

A very sobering day : 25^th Feb 2008

Jan 30 2008 China: Where there is light there is shadow

victoria_handley — Tue, 23 Sep 2008 18:10:00 GMT

In China they say: The sun gives light and the cloud it’s shadow.

These few words seem to sum up the experiences and feelings I have as I continue my travels through this vast continent of Asia.

As China experiences it’s worst snow storms in decades, I too have been amongst the chill of the snow capped mountains in the far north west of Yunnan province and now in the south, close to crossing the boarder into Laos tomorrow, I am bathed in sunshine and a tropical warmth all too familiar.

The yin and the yang, the dark and the light, good and evil all express stark descriptions of extremes, and a reminder of how fortunate I have been through out my life. I’ve had it so easy! And I am increasingly thankful.

Two nights ago I arrived in Dali during a very cold, wet and windy afternoon. I decided not to continue on to the tourist destination of the “old town” to avoid a possible complication in travel arrangements already booked. Instead I ran from the bus into a congested and very Chinese bus station…every notice illegible to me, not a blond head amongst the crowd and no idea where I was headed…mmmm Ok Vic , you can do this…deep breath

Scanning the crowd I spotted a well dressed and cool looking young man (all young people study english to some extent throughout their schooling). “Can you help me get a taxi to a hotel?” Next thing I knew his friend came to my rescue, carried my bag out into the rain and flagged down a taxi, arranged for me to be taken to an “English speaking hotel’ and off I went. ( I have learnt you only need to ask for help) when all else fails.

Big city….grand but grotty hotel….fine…perfect…I have a room and tomorrow I’ll get to the airport and I’ll be away. I walk down the cold wet and busy street, being careful not to lose my bearings on the hotel. Food…yes I’m hungry so I find one of those streets that have strange but intriguing aromas, with big pots of some thing boiling out the front and a narrow room behind lined with tables and chairs. I walk up and down the street. A mother and daughter smile as I wandered past…..it’s a good enough sign and I go back to be served noodles of my choice with a sprinkling of fresh herbs, some kind of meat and a hot broth….it tastes great and I wonder where the meat has been…but I enoy it anyway.!

Back at the hotel I hop into bed because there is no heating. I become increasingly aware of how dirty the walls are and mmmm….it feels yuk!!. I check out the towels and sheets….clean enough!....complimentary shampoos and toothbrush…nice. Mmmm and condoms? Mmmm…..I settle into the last pages of my book, “A child called It” by David Pezler. It is his account of his extreme abuse by his mother when he was a child. It’s confronting as well as up lifting as he goes on to make his life dedicated to educating people about the reality of child abuse and uses his story to demonstrate and motivate others to overcome what life throws at them.

About thirty pages before the end my bed-side phone rings. I ignore it but it won’t go away and so eventually answer. Chinese woman’s voice…”Sorry I don’t speak Chinese.”…Oh…massage?....”NO”. She hangs up.

Five minutes later I hear the phone ring in the room next to me.

Twenty minute later I hear the phone ring down the hall.! And so it went through out the last pages. I put the book down, digesting it’s contents. Then I hear from down in the street below….M’ma…..m’ma…a distressed little girl’s voice.Every two minutes or so…m’ma, m’ma… until eventually a high pitched screech bellows from above a command that I did not understand. The little voice stopped and the ringing continued throughout the night as I settled between my sheets and hoped for the morning to come.

As I left for the airport that morning the sun shone pink onto the snow capped mountains that back-dropped the town. The lake too reflected the scene. And as my plane punched through the cloud cover to reveal the sun I madly clicked away with my camera so as not to forget this moment…..and gave thanks for all the love that I’ve had in my life, and the family and country into which I had been born.

Gallery: Vietnam

victoria_handley — Mon, 26 May 2008 22:48:00 GMT

Gallery: Cambodia

victoria_handley — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 02:44:00 GMT

a sellection of my favourites