Beautiful Cambodia


I have been lucky enough to visit many countries in my life but not one has stolen my heart as Cambodia did. I did not want to come home and could barely control my tears when saying goodbye to my step daughter in law. Not being able to have children of my own I have been very blessed with three lovely step children. The wife of my middle step son James has become very much like a daughter to me. The fact that she is now in Cambodia is difficult enough and leaving her and James was very difficult. We both failed miserably in controlling our emotions on the last day. The country itself as I said stole my heart. I cannot wait to return and hope to do so in the summer. While there, an assortment of wonderful ideas came to me and inspiration flowed like water. However, any ideas I may have conjured up were quickly dashed by my husband who always sees the practical. I never do. I am a jump into the deep end person. All my visions of moving out to Cambodia are not to be. So, I have decided to return in the summer for several weeks to do voluntary writing work if anyone will have me. Meanwhile, I have written a piece on the children’s hospital there as well as a brief posting on the Orphanage. I intend to write more as time goes on. But those two pieces are featured here on my Blog. If you wish to help either organisation in any way please let me know. There are still many humorous situations to share, not to mention the day I was almost bitten by a rabid dog. But for now I just want to share some photos of the wonderful people of Cambodia and the country itself.
We were very lucky to be invited to many places which tourists do not often see. One was a tour of the Angkor Hospital for Children. This was very moving and touched Andrew and I very much. We were also invited to see the Orphanage at the children’s Sanctuary. A nurse my stepson works with got married and invited us to her very traditional wedding. We were treated like celebrities. Everyone wanting to dance with us and have photos taken with us. It was amazing. We we also taken into a village to meet the people there. Here another wedding was taking place, one which we had not been invited to but they kindly allowed me to take photos of the reception hall and before Andrew and I knew what was happening we were taken up some steps to what I thought was a barn. It was in fact where the wedding ceremony was taking place. After much embarrassment we were asked if we would have a photo with the bride and groom.
But less chatter from me and more pictures.

Andrew with the local villagers.

”One

A very happy me!

Beautiful Cambodia

A land mine victim

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seen off by dog
Photo at the accidental wedding

My lovely daughter in law

The bride

Dancing and fun at a wedding

Making friends at the wedding

Beautiful Cambodia

New years Eve

Beautiful Cambodia

Known as sexy frog, in Cambodia

Andrew on New Years Eve with his Tuk Tuk driver friend

Where we ate dinner most nights

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Down and Out

I thought I wouldn’t post for a while as feeling a little below par and normally my posts are cheery and upbeat. This is how I usually am too. I have spent the past ten years of my life keeping emotional vampires out of it. Of course, sometimes it is not as easy as it sounds. I allowed someone too get too close a few days ago and I paid the price. I feel quite emotionally battered. Very hurt and am still struggling to distance myself. I let my guard down. I know I am quite emotionally fragile and should have known better to get into anything with someone like that but I did. As soon as harmony is restored I will be posting my usual fun posts. Laughter is the best medicine after all. In the meantime I am very much enjoying all the upbeat posts I have been reading and they are lifting me. Normal programme will resumed as soon as possible, possibly even sooner than that. Do check my writer friend page on here. I just interviewed the lovely Jae De Wylde who talked about her new book.
Bye for now.

Friends without a border

 

FRIENDS WITHOUT A BORDER/ANGKOR HOSPITAL FOR CHILDREN

Posted on | januari 20, 2012 | 2 Comments

Arrival in Siem Reap, Cambodia

Having left England on a cold December day, I arrived at Siem Reap in Cambodia on Christmas day late in the evening. The heat hit me immediately. As I was still wearing my warm clothes I was quite relieved to feel the cool breeze on my face as I took my first Tuk Tuk ride to my accommodation. I had never been to Cambodia before and I was struck by the poverty of the country almost straight away. My stepson greeted us and took us back to his apartment where we were shown to our very comfortable bedroom.  I decided over the next few days I would see the poverty for myself. I had not imagined, however, the extent of it and was very surprised. What affected me most was seeing the children living in such squalid conditions. I found it difficult to visit the markets where children would beg me to buy their goods. On my third day I walked into the local village to visit the people there and to take photographs. Here the poverty of the people was very apparent. Children were running around barefoot avoiding skinny cockerels that hustled for food and shouting hello to us in loud voices. Everyone we passed smiled at us and asked how we were and some even offered us food despite their poverty. Both my husband I were very touched by this. We passed small huts that looked like they would crumble to the ground should there be one large gust of wind. I saw children being washed under taps while they fought to escape the parent attempting to clean them. How do these children stay well, I wondered and what do they eat? Cambodia is a poverty stricken country, where the average wage is seven dollars a week. Everywhere you look there is poverty and malnutrition. There are also many children. Where there is poverty, there are health problems. I glanced at the small stalls selling food and tried not to grimace at the flies that hovered there.

The Khmer Rouge

So what has ravaged this beautiful country and left such poverty in its wake? I knew something of the Khmer Rouge regime from things I had read but I realised I had no clear idea of what happened between 1975-1979. How could I not have been aware of such a terrible genocide? I was of an aware age. I thought back to what I may have been doing during this time and was ashamed of my ignorance. The Khmer Rouge killed nearly two million Cambodians from 1975 to 1979 spreading like a virus from the jungles until they controlled the entire country. They destroyed and dismantled in the name of a Communist agrarian ideal. Today, more than 30 years after Vietnamese soldiers removed the Khmer Rouge from power genocide trials are still going on, a bitter sweet moment for the impoverished nation still struggling to rehabilitate its crippled economic and human resources. It is this legacy that the children of Cambodia have inherited. Under Pol Pot’s leadership, and within days of overthrowing the government, the Khmer Rouge embarked on an organised mission. Children were taken from their parents and placed in separate forced labour camps. Factories, schools and universities were shut down; so were hospitals. Lawyers, doctors, teachers, engineers, scientists and professional people in any field (including the army) were murdered, together with their extended families.

If you are unfamiliar with the Khmer Rouge there are many books to familiarise yourself with this cruel and terrifying regime. ‘First they killed my father’ by Loung Ung is an emotional insight into one child’s experience of the horror of The Khmer Rouge. I was lucky to be given this book by my stepson and his wife while in Cambodia. Both the book and the country have touched me on a deeply emotional level. Seeing this beautiful country after this terrible rape by the Khmer Rouge makes it impossible not to be moved by the people’s positive attitude and their continual smiles. Knowing that thirty years ago the country lost most of its educated people and Doctors I was curious about the health situation in Cambodia.

Meeting Arun Sinketh at The Angkor Hospital for Children

A few days later I myself was very sick with a stomach upset and again I found myself wondering about the health system in Cambodia and along with my husband went to ‘The Angkor Hospital for Children’ (AHC) visitors Centre.  Arun Sinketh the Human Resources Director, sensing my interest and keenness to write an article offered to give us a tour of the Hospital the following day. I left armed with booklets and information and studied them that night. I was saddened to discover that the life expectancy in Cambodia is just 57 years and that the probability of dying before the age of five is 88 per thousand births. It was difficult to comprehend the figures. The children of Cambodia are the most appealing I have ever met and I fell in love with many of them. As I journeyed back to the Hospital the next morning, many of them waved and shouted ‘Hello’ to us. Some were travelling totally unprotected on the front of their father’s motorcycle. I cannot begin to count how many under-five’s I saw travelling helmetless on a motorcycle with either one or both parents. Heedless of the dust and heat they ride happily along seemingly unaware of the dangers. I immediately found my mind wandering back to what I had read the night before and shuddered. One of the most lasting legacies of the Khmer Rouge and which continues to claim new victims daily, are land mines.  They litter the countryside and even the soldiers who placed them there cannot recall where they are. As I travelled through the country the effects are visible in many ways but perhaps most poignantly in the number of children, men and women wearing prostheses or riding wheelchairs. I knew there had to be something I could do to help the smiling people of Cambodia. Where better to help the children than a hospital?

The Hospital Tour

With the statistics in my mind I pushed open the door to the Visitor Centre again where Arun was waiting for me. With a kind smile and a warm welcome she began my tour of the ‘Angkor Hospital for Children.’ The first thing I see is the hospital logo, a green symbol in the shape of a heart.  Arun has worked at the hospital for 11 years. She first began her career there as a nurse in 2001 and continued nursing for two and half years. Her biggest pleasure is the children. She later moved to be a PA and volunteer coordinator. In 2006, she worked full time as a PA. Arun is still studying in her spare time and was very inspirational.

I would now very much like you to take the tour with me. I was desperate to see how the hospital cared for these vulnerable children of Cambodia. We left the coolness of the visitor Centre and headed outside into the stifling heat where Arun pointed out the entrance gate and explained that the gate opens at 6 a.m. but people will have been queuing long before that. I asked her how many children are seen in one day and was stunned when she told me 400 children a day attend the hospital outpatient department. Almost half would have travelled more than 50 kilometres in the back of a pick-up truck or by motorbike. Most likely they will walk. I tried to imagine travelling from my home in Oxfordshire back in England for thirty miles or possibly even fifty to sixty miles to get to an outpatient department and shudder when I imagine trying to get a child there when I have no transport. It is unimaginable. Transporting a sick child all that way in a Tuk Tuk does not bear thinking about. I later visited a rural village in a Tuk Tuk and the roads were so uneven that I felt certain we would never make it. I came home with a mild headache from the heat and the uncomfortable ride. How much worse for a sick child. I followed Arun into the waiting area of the outpatient department, past crying children, anxious mothers and siblings to the triage area.

‘The majority of children who come to the hospital are less than five years old. The three main diseases are respiratory, diarrhoea and malnutrition. After triage, the child will see either a nurse or a doctor depending on the severity of their symptoms. Because waiting time is so long, up to many hours, we provide a play area for the siblings of the sick child. 400 children a day coming to the Hospital means a long wait.’ Arun explains.

And I thought we waited a long time in England. I make a decision not to moan about our healthcare system again.

 

Inpatients

The inpatient ward I found quite upsetting. Arun who previously nursed at the Hospital looks at the children affectionately and tells me how much she enjoyed nursing the children. I see a young baby suffering from Pneumonia and watch as his mother assists with the Oxygen mask. The baby looks very small and helpless and it is very distressing to see a young baby so sick and I have an overwhelming desire to pick her up and make everything all right. But, of course, I can’t.  Arun tells me the parents are encouraged to nurse their children and to be as active as possible in their recovery. The inpatient ward has 55 beds. I feel helpless when seeing so many sick children and decide to later ask Arun how I can help. We pass the smiling Doctors and nurses and as we do so a mother looks to my husband gratefully, thinking he is a Doctor. On walking back through the waiting area she immediately poured out her gratitude to us, bowing and showing us how deeply grateful she was. I looked to my husband and saw from his face how deeply moved he was by this. The friendship and generosity of the Cambodian people was quite a revelation to us and we instantly warmed to them.

Arun tells me that nursing these children is very satisfying. I am amazed to hear that more than 30,000 patients were seen in the inpatients department in 2010 with 2,356 admissions. Almost 100,000 have passed through the Intensive Care Unit. Frightening statistics.

Nean Pisitomony

Arun introduced me to Nean Pisitmony who comes from Preah Vihear Province, more than 100km from Siem Reap. His parents brought him to AHC to uncover what was making their seven year-old boy so sick. They had taken him to other hospitals, even as far away as Phnom Penh, but no one had been able to help them. At AHC he was quickly diagnosed with congenital heart disease and the Hospital was able to send him to Malaysia for corrective open-heart surgery. After a successful surgery he returned to Cambodia and had no complications. One day, while traveling through Kompong Thom, he saw the AHC logo on a donation box and immediately recognized it as the big green heart that had saved his own heart. Mony started saving money to someday donate to AHC because he thought that this was the best way he could help.

In February 2010, Mony returned to AHC. He had an abscess on his face, with severe swelling and an infection in his left eye. Even though physicians in his hometown treated him, he was not getting better. His parents decided to bring him back to the hospital with the big green heart.

At AHC, he was taken care of by the eye doctor, treated with antibiotics and improved quickly. He thanked all of the staff at AHC for saving his life once again and was finally able to donate the $100 he had been saving. He hopes that his donation will help save lives of other children, and it will.

With the growth of their own surgeons and the help of generous volunteers many children with heart conditions like Mony are now being treated right at AHC. In 2009, 24 open heart surgeries were successfully performed in the hospital’s own Operating Room!

Homecare programme

The most interesting aspect of the Angkor Hospital for Children for me was the Homecare programme and I immediately found myself wondering how I could return to Siem Reap and follow the homecare team who go directly to the patients in rural communities because they are too weak and fragile to travel. The homecare programme provides not only medical assessment and treatment but also provides support and education. The first step in prevention of further health problems is to educate the people. This includes giving seeds to grow vegetable gardens, mosquito nets to prevent malaria and dengue fever and even school uniforms. 70-75% of homecare patients are HIV positive. Often in Cambodia those living with HIV are marginalized and in some cases children have been expelled from school. Other patients suffer from malnutrition, congenital heart disease and neurological pathology. They all require assessment and care. I began to wonder if I could write an article about such devastating health problems and still remain positive. I soon learnt that in the Angkor Hospital for Children there is much to be positive about.

Education

Because the families admitted to AHC have needed to borrow money just to get there, they arrive with little or no food. All eligible families are provided with food and cooking supplies. There is a community kitchen at the hospital where families gather to cook meals. A whole family will stay with a sick child and the hospital arrange cooking classes twice daily to show mothers how to make food like bor-bor, a traditional Khmer porridge and other nutritional foods. There is also a demonstration garden adjacent to the kitchen which displays a variety of nutrient rich vegetables that can be grown locally. Seeds are given to the parents to take home. I found this very positive indeed.  In fact my whole visit was a very uplifting experience and the smile on Arun’s face as she showed us around warmed me immensely. I could see that the poor malnourished children I had seen on the streets could and would be helped. All thanks to a New York based photographer named Kenro Izu who first came to Siem Reap over fifteen years ago to photograph the Angkor temples. However, it was the images of the children that would capture his heart as they have done mine. He was compelled to dedicate himself to improving their lives. With little more than the will to effect positive change he founded ‘Friends without a Border’ and was able to raise the seed money for ‘Angkor Hospital for Children’ Read more about Kenro Izu here.

I finished my tour with a look at the Dental Clinic. Arun told me that few children in Cambodia own a toothbrush! Arun also told me 40 children a day see the dentist. I then, visited the Eye clinic where monty was treated.

The children of Cambodia need your help and there are many ways to offer. Izu founded the Friends Without A Border non-profit organization in 1996. Since that time AHC has treated more than 800,000 children, performed over 12,000 surgeries, educated thousands of Cambodian health workers, and improved the quality of healthcare in the countryside. In 2010, the AHC’s satellite facility opened at Sot Nikum Referral Hospital in Dam Daek in order to bring compassionate, high-quality care into other parts of Siem Reap Province.

You can donate money.

If visiting Cambodia, you can donate blood.

Or like me you can offer to volunteer your services

I was so uplifted by the children of Cambodia that I know I have to see them again. If I can help them in any way, then that is what I want to do. The Angkor Hospital for Children gave me hope and uplifted me. The Angkor Hospital for Children is doing a wonderful job in what is a very difficult country. It is an organisation that I very much want to support. Please read more aboutFriends Without a Border and help in any way you can.

Seeing the country and learning about their history and how they lost their doctors and educated people thirty years ago in the most horrific of circumstances leaving them in poverty made me feel uncomfortably privileged and humble at what I take for granted. Cambodia and the children of Cambodia changed my life for the better. I am so pleased to be able to help them.

AUTHOR: Lynda Renham-Cook
URLhttp://www.lyndarenham.org.uk
E-MAIL: lynda [at] renham.co.uk

 

Original article link below.
http://www.nl-aid.org/domain/child/friends-without-a-borderangkor-hospital-for-children/

Help, we’re sinking…fast

Here I am about to go on a boat trip and stupidly I had not even considered we would do this. How I had imagined we would visit a floating village without a boat being involved, I do not know. But that’s me, say yes to things and think about it later.
Now I don’t particularly like boats. In fact I don’t particularly like water either. Well, obviously not all water. I don’t want you think I don’t shower. It’s more sea like water, the stuff that boats sail on, that have an adverse effect on me. I have a good reason for this sailing aversion. I can’t swim and any boat trip is seen as a possible drowning threat. The only boats I will go on and probably then kicking and screaming are those that tend to have lots of safety equipment such as lifeboats, life rafts, life jackets; you know all those safety things that have the word life attached to them. I want to live you see for quite a few more years. I know, maybe learning to swim might be a good idea. My attempts at swimming lessons are a whole other blog. Anyway, as usual I am digressing. Back to the boat, did I say boat? Oh, God, never has something looked less like a boat than this one and the sailor less like a sailor. I want to die…
‘Surely we aren’t getting on that,’ I say weakly.
Andrew’s face is enough to tell me we are. After all we have just paid thirty dollars to go on this and Andrew is determined to get his money’s worth. If that means I drown, so be it. Okay, he isn’t that bad. In Cambodia there are two words that just do not exist. Those two words are Health and Safety. This is not a nanny state, oh no. I am the first to disapprove of nanny States but God knows right at that moment I would have begged to be part of a nanny state. The boat is of medium size and is made up of planks of wood with lots of gaps between them. It seems to be cobbled together from bits of old car parts. The motor is an old car engine lashed to the stern; the rudder is controlled by two lengths of rope strapped around a steering wheel

Our Captain.
For some reason there is a hand brake which never seems to get used, obviously. The petrol tank is a plastic drum wedged into the back.
The back of the boat and the rickety chair. Note the car battery...
There is a noticeable absence of a silencer so when the boat was throttled back we were practically deafened, not to mention almost choking to death on the fumes. But when it moved it was like greased lightning. We shot off at such speed that the wake demolished any living habitation. The word conservation doesn’t have an equivalent translation it seems. But again, I digress. Before all this happened I had to actually board the boat. Not as easy as it sounds. I stared as if hypnotised at the distance from the ground to the inside of the boat and watched as Andrew heaved himself up. Yes, right. I continue staring until the captain understands the problem and walks off to get a ladder, obviously, except the ladder to the boat seems to be a rickety old chair with a hole in the middle. Knowing I have no other option I climb onto the chair gripping the Captains hand tightly. The Captain by the way looks not a day over sixteen and less like a Captain than anyone I have ever seen. What am I doing? Help!
Trying to look relaxed
I am finally on board and all I want to do is jump off. Where is everyone else? After all there is safety in numbers right? Before I know where we are he is starting the engine and we are off and like I say Greased lightning has nothing on us… I grip the sides and pray. I look behind us in the hope of seeing the security of another boat but there is nothing. At least the water is not too deep. Famous last words, I hear you say. Oh yes indeed. Ten minutes later the water is very deep. In fact all around us is water. Nothing else, no other people, no other boats, just lots and lots of snake infested water and I fear I may never leave Cambodia alive. But amazingly enough we reach the floating village in one piece and he pulls the boat close to the floating café. We, of course, do not have any money left. On reflection, I do believe this was our big mistake.
Tea, anyone...
Had we climbed from the boat and had a nice cuppa all would have been fine. The boat would have had a rest as would have we. But, come on, when do things go smoothly in my life? Come on, answer me? I rest my case. So, on declining a cuppa we take the long route to turn around and head back through the village and finally home. I am a bit more relaxed now and take some photos. I am slightly perturbed by the depth of the water but convince myself everything is fine as we are on our way back. I am so busy snapping away with my camera that is a few seconds before I realise the captain has cut the engine. The boat bobs gently on the deep water and I look around me to see we are totally alone. Not another human in sight. My stomach flutters and I tell myself it is flatulence. Well, let’s face it panic is the last thing we need. Famous last words. I turn to Andrew and in a forced calm voice, which he sees through right away, ask.
‘Is everything okay?’
He nods. ‘Just a slight technical hitch.’
Oh, that’s okay then.
‘We’re sinking’
Nothing in sight, not even a solitary fish

What! What! He points behind him and oh my God, there is water everywhere. Well of course there is water everywhere. What I mean is, it is everywhere it shouldn’t be. Like in our sodding boat. Oh someone please help. A slight technical problem? I’m going to drown and Andrew thinks it is a slight technical problem.
‘Please be serious, is everything okay? We will be okay won’t we? He knows what he’s doing doesn’t he?’
I get the ‘You are getting hysterical look’
‘I don’t know, but I presume so. He has stopped the engine.’
I look frantically around me. Must keep calm, must think of strategies for rescue. Look at the situation calmly. Okay, I am in Cambodia, in the middle of a deep-sea, with no other boats nearby and not another soul in sight, unless you count Andrew and the Captain. The Captain can’t speak English. There is no life raft, no life boat, no life jackets and I can’t swim. Oh God, soon there will be no life, No, no think positive. Think positive, why am I thinking this is somewhat impossible? The only thing I can see on the boat is water and a rickety chair. Deep breaths, deep breaths. I strain to see the nearest bank but there isn’t one. Check Blackberry. Yes, as I guessed, no signal. I’m going to drown in Cambodia and no one will know, well my family will. But no one else will. It’s not like I’m famous. I probably won’t even make the local paper. Oh, what a sad end. Oh, hang on what’s this? The Captain is strolling past me, fag in mouth, and carrying a car battery.
Letting in water

‘Ah,’ says Andrew. My lovely hubby has an irritating habit of saying Ah, and Mmm, a lot. I have come to know the meanings of these Ah’s and Mmm’s over the years and this is such a hopeful Ah that I allow myself a heavy sigh of relief.
‘What is he doing?’ I ask hopefully.
We both watch as the smiling Captain attaches something to the battery and sticks a hose into the water.
‘He’s draining the water out of the boat. Funny isn’t it?’
I beg to differ. I can see nothing to laugh about here unless you count my hysterical laugh as comical.
The water pump

The boat continues to bob and the Captain gives us a thumbs up. Yes, well, this is not very good actually. After all we have paid for this. I could pay a lot less to go in a haunted house if I wanted to be scared to death. The water runs over my feet and I pull them up quickly. Visions of the water reaching my chin haunt me and I start humming to push the thoughts away. I lean over the boat to see the pump and feel my shoulders relax when I see the water pumping out nicely. Within minutes we are roaring through the deep waters and Captain eats his sandwiches while I dry swallow two painkillers and think that my nerves really cannot take much more. We dock with a bang and a thud and with Andrew and the Captain’s help, along with the rickety chair I disembark. Next step? I now need the toilet desperately. Be warned, that is the next blog…

Almost Cholera, but not quite…

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Hello there peeps, sorry for keeping you waiting. You know how it is? You don’t? Well, I came back from Cambodia and am about to dish the dirt as promised except a few days after my return I went down with a shocker of a cold. Now, let me know tell you dear friends that I recall the bugger who passed this onto me quite clearly. I can still see his red nose as he coughed and spluttered behind me on the aeroplane. Rest assured I shall be taking my revenge before the week is out. That is, of course, if my lovely husband Andrew, who now sneezes uncontrollably, has not murdered me. Ah, the pleasure of returning home from holiday. Even our tummies are rebelling somewhat and trying to rid themselves of the last vestige of Cambodia it seems. So,let’s crack on with the show then, I mean Blog. Sorry, you can see I have been resting with Miranda Hart, not personally of course but if anyone can arrange that, let me know. Before we begin I should just say that Cambodia was one of the best countries I have ever visited and I am deeply eager to return again and what follows is my usual light-hearted view on life. Enjoy.
Now, where did I get to? Ah yes arrival at my stepson’s apartment with the building work, which I was convinced would not happen on Boxing Day. Yes, well, never presume. I woke at 7.a.m and for a minute I think I am alone. The beds in the hotel and at my stepson’s are so wide that you can lose your partner. After a bit of feeling around however, I soon found Andrew and let out a big sigh of relief. Any hope of getting back to sleep is dashed by the banging and drilling next door and we get up to enjoy Boxing Day in Cambodia. The rest of the day is spiffing, thank you. That evening we meet some friends of my stepson and his wife who are also holidaying and go for dinner. Ah, first complication of the holiday. What can we eat? The web advice was that all the water is poison and to avoid like the plague. Apparently, we are told, the water if drunk will turn your hair to wire This came on good authority from a monk, well ex monk. As for the food, make sure the hotel you’re in uses good hygiene. Yes, well this isn’t a hotel and I just don’t think it is common practice to ask to see the kitchens here or to meet the chef.
‘Don’t worry, the food is fine here,’ my stepson’s friends assures me. We quickly discuss it and decide that Pizza will be fine and bravely order. Oh dear… That night feeling perfectly fine I decide to stop being so nervous about tummy bugs

Our lovely dinner with Pizza and all.
and tell Andrew I am going to stop thinking about things like that. He agrees it is a good idea. The following morning I tell myself the nausea I am feeling is all in my mind and Andrew confirms this.

‘I feel fine and we ate the same thing. You are bringing this on yourself. Do you want to come with me later? I’m meeting James in his lunch break and we are going for a curry. The whole thing with a pint of beer only costs three dollars.’

My husband, ever the caring partner. Just the word curry sends my stomach into turmoil and I open my mouth to decline but instead rush to the loo to be violently sick instead with my imaginary upset stomach. Oh god… Andrew checks I am okay and then potters off. I am sick several times while he is out and several more times when he gets back. A trip to the temples the following day is cancelled and I find myself pining for home and a safe meal. I lay on my enormous bed feeling very sorry for myself and fighting down the nausea. Visions of being airlifted to a Bangkok hospital haunt me. Oh, God am I to die in Cambodia? A bit embarrassing if I do. What will Andrew tell people? I stress to him should this happen, he is to say I caught Cholera. One has to save face after all. That night I start to feel better and would have slept quite well had Andrew and his son not been throwing up. I decide not to ask Andrew if it is all his mind. The next day we look a little like the walking dead and decide to frighten the local community and take a walk.

All three of us looking the worse for wear. Daughter in law Lisa escaped, but only just.
In the end a very good idea for it certainly blew away the building dust and by the morning we were more than ready for a visit to the floating village. Our Tuk Tuk driver collected us on time and off we went down the Cambodian motorway. A lovely smooth ride until we hit the dirt track leading to the floating village. Let me tell you a trip in a Tuk Tuk through a Cambodian village needs some doing. Several times I was sure my womb dropped out and I didn’t have the heart to ask if we could return to retrieve it. I gave thanks to God that I didn’t wear contacts because after a couple of bumps in a Tuk Tuk on a bumpy road and you nearly lose your eyeballs let alone your contacts and trust me do not and I cannot stress this enough, do not go braless. It really isn’t worth it. Plus, of course, it is disrespectful in a country such as this. I rubbed my head with 4head and prayed the floating village wasn’t much further. Andrew meanwhile was attempting to photograph water buffalo as we jogged along. I pushed my hat back onto my head in the manner of Karen Blixen in ‘Out of Africa’ and attempted to look cool and glamorous. I failed miserably.
‘We here,’ shouts the Tuk Tuk driver and we both stare perplexed at what looks like border control. I look around me and see a tiny river. That surely cannot be the floating village. Then I realise we have to pay to enter the floating village. Neither of us had anticipated this and did not bring much money with us. It is 15 dollars each and we do not have enough. The Tuk Tuk driver pays the excess and we drive through to the next village, Andrew mumbling the whole way that he really doesn’t understand what we actually paid for. Five minutes later we find out. Several boats no correction, several things that look like boats sit bobbing on the water waiting to take the tourists (us) through the floating village. I look at Andrew and back to the logs that make up the boats.

‘Is that what we have paid for?’

I ask breathlessly.

‘Yes, let’s go.’

Answers Andrew.
I take another look at the boat, take a deep breath and in the manner of Karen Blixen about to go on Safari, I attempt to board…
To be continued.

An Award? It’s a joke right?

Well, what can I say? It must be a joke right? I mean, I’m not actually famous or anything. Well, not real famous. I do feel like it when I win an award though and my lovely friend Jacqueline has been sweet enough to award me the ‘One Lovely Blog Award’ which is an award I have coveted over the months. Now I have it and I didn’t even prepare a speech. ‘One Lovely Blog Award’ is for Blogs that make you feel good after you have visited and I am thrilled to know I do that. I am so thrilled that Jacqueline, whose great Blog ‘Maturestudenthanginginthere’ chose me. Her Blog always makes me feel good and uplifts me no end. She always comes up with such great idea’s that I feel excited just reading her words. Thank you Jacqueline for awarding me ‘One Lovely Blog Award.’
So to pass on this award I would like to send it to the following bloggers:-
Dribbling Pensioner. Who cheers me and always makes me feel good with his unusual and funny posts. There is always something unique coming from Dribbling Pensioner.

Nuggets and Pearls which is by my friend Marcia and what a great Blog. Always full of uplifting ideas and thoughts. Whenever Marcia posts a new entry I get excited, knowing it will inspire me. I cannot think of two more deserving Blogs. If I could I would give this to ‘Maturestudenthanginginthere’ but I can’t. Ah, well. Thank you again to all those who voted for me-whoops it’s not a Bafta is it? I get so confused. That’s next month isn’t it? I wonder if I can use the same speech. Okay, okay. A girl can dream can’t she?
Congratulations everyone. Keep on Blogging.

A holiday in a Bangkok jail. Well, almost…

I should have known a trip to a place like Cambodia would not go without a hitch. After all I am Lynda Renham-Cook right? I expect you have been waiting for me to dish the dirt. Well, here it is.
The question is where do I start? Okay, let us start at the beginning. After all it is a very good place to start isn’t it? But which story first? The Construction work or negotiating the monks loo? Possibly the best one was when the boat we went in to visit the floating village started to sink.

Our sinking boat
Oh, I feel myself shudder at the memory. Or maybe the story of the German who insisted I download his document on my computer.
‘You vill download,’ he had snapped. Okay a slight exaggeration but when have I not exaggerated? Better still is the story of the two weddings we got involved in and how I ate A Cow’s stomach. But I am straying away from the beginning as usual in my excitement to share all.
I started the holiday with a massive headache, which I still have now actually. It came and went on and off for most of the holiday. So, if anyone knows a cure for these constant headaches, do let me know as my body is taking a hell of a battering from painkillers. Talking of which I went to Cambodia packed like someone who was delivering medical aid, except the medicines were all for me. Andrew took one look at the suitcase and sighed.
‘Did you forget I was coming too,’ he said caustically. Okay maybe not caustically. More with a sardonic smile I suppose. ‘You’re supposed to take a first aid kit, not a first aid suitcase.’
Honestly, such sarcasm from my husband when all I am doing is being cautious.
‘Well, we will need another suitcase anyway for the Christmas presents,’ I argued. He picks up my three toiletries bags and sighs. Yes, okay, so I took a lot of pills with me. But you can’t be too cautious in a place like Asia can you? The web page even advises us to take toilet roll as they apparently don’t use it out there. What they do use I dare not think about really.
‘My son still uses it I hope. As we are staying with him I imagine there will be some.’ Andrew argues.
I am about to tell him that maybe his son cannot purchase toilet paper and that who knows what new habits he has acquired now but I stay quiet and just insist we do not take any chances. So I pack every pill in sight. I’m not going to go down with a stomach upset, I say. Famous last words. So, finally we are ready for the off, with enough toilet roll to bring down the plane. Talking of planes, what fun we had at the airports. We arrive in Bangkok after flying for ten hours and go in search of our luggage. Of course, I presumed it would just go straight on to Cambodia with us but it seems BA did not arrange it that way. We discover to fetch our luggage means we have to check out of the airport even though we have a connecting flight. This takes forever and our eye is constantly on the clock. We go through three passport control ports and each ones takes almost thirty minutes. We get lost and I feel my head throb even more. I am bursting for the loo but we don’t have time to stop. It’s just that in Bangkok I think they have toilet roll. We finally trace our luggage, grab it and fly to the next security check. By now I am so fed up that when the alarms go off I am almost expecting it.
‘Open the bag please,’ demands the official.
I frantically try to remember what is in my hand luggage. Are there medications in there too? Oh my word, I won’t get thrown into Bangkok Hilton will I, for carrying Co-Codamol? I feel my heart thumping as I open the bag. What other pills did I pack? I find myself looking around for dogs. With shaking hands I open the bag and watch with a thudding heart as they open the small make up bag. Visions of shackles on my hands and legs float through my mind and I quickly try to remember my solicitor’s name and then realise I don’t have one. I feel faint and quickly close my eyes. I open them to see the man holding up my tube of Nivea cream. Oh, what a relief. He pops it into a bag and ticks me off. But thank God, I am not going to prison in Bangkok. I smile at Andrew and grab his hand so we can quickly escape. Ten minutes later we are heading past Duty free on our way to our connecting flight when Andrew asks.
‘Where is your hand luggage?’
What! Oh no!
‘I left it at the security desk,’ I squeal, already legging it back. I mean, honestly. Only I would do something so stupid. We heave a deep sigh of relief to find it is still there and Andrew gives me a ‘What is wrong with you,’ look. I just shrug.
Two hours later and we are on our flight to Siem Reap in Cambodia. On the plane I debate whether to eat the food I am given. I read that the water is poisonous and can kill you. As for the food, well let’s just say I was preparing myself to lose weight rather than risk the food. An overpowering thirst wins, however and the water goes down along with the ominous looking sandwiches, which I figure I may as well eat now seeing as I have drunk the deadly water, along with two painkillers. One hour later and we arrive. The hot air hits me instantly and my head throbs even more. I will be glad to climb into the taxi and drive to James apartment. He meets us and directs us to our transport. Good lord, what is this. He surely does not expect us to get into a small rickshaw thing with our luggage and everything? Yes he does, oh my goodness. We all climb into the Tuk Tuk and I try not to cry out as my foot gets cramp. We seem to fly along the main roads, the dust flying into my eyes. I am sure I whimper as the wind whips at my face making my head throb even more. Good god what am I doing in this God forsaken country?
‘Are you okay?’ asks Andrew adding before I can reply. ‘It’s great isn’t it?’
Oh yes, fab.
‘The Tuk tuk is the only way around,’ says James.
Is it? Oh dear. I would later come to love the Tuk Tuk and the Tuk Tuk drivers who waited outside the apartment. I would come to adore the food. In fact I would come to adore Cambodia so much that the wish to return becomes unbearable. But as usual, I digress. Twenty minutes later we arrive at James apartment and in the dark I cannot see the outside very well but the inside is lovely and guess what? he has toilet paper and an en suite bathroom too. We have an oversized bed, air conditioning and plenty of bottled water. Perfect, except we also have a construction site next door.
‘Oh, that won’t be a problem,’ I say.
Why are there a lot of famous words in this here post? Off to bed we go, exhausted and already feeling some jet lag. The next day is the beginning of our holiday and is Boxing Day. We will open our presents and then go into town later for a look around and to get some dinner. Of course, the construction work won’t be going on, not on Boxing Day so it should be peaceful. More famous last words. I soon learn there are no holidays in Cambodia, only work. I wake to banging and drilling. A holiday nightmare. I tell myself it can’t get any worse…
TO BE CONTINUED.