World Mental Health Day 2016

I am thoroughly under prepared for World Mental Health Day this year (I blame working full time and trying to be an adult). So instead of writing a thoughtful and informative piece on mental health, I have a short piece of writing from a while ago. Be warned, it's not cheery. It's about my experience from being in hospital following an attempt to take my own life last summer. I'm posting it because, to me, it actually rather perfectly captures the confusion and intense fear that consumed me. If you fancy a more informative post, check out my post on Anorexia Nervosa which I wrote a couple years ago: http://abinichollsruns.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/anorexia-nervosa-my-story.html

I guess what I want to say with this post, is that mental illness can be terrifying for those going through it. I had a good experience in hospital, with exceptionally caring nurses who made all the difference. But the fear was so real and so intense. It is a time of my life I would rather forget, but at the same time I think it's important to use the experience to spread awareness and understanding. Things are so different for me now. I am well, and happy and a functioning member of society. 

I shall end the ramble here and just leave you with this piece of writing. If you are struggling with mental illness yourself and need someone to talk to, I recommend giving Samaritans a call on 116 123. If you want to learn more about mental illness, drop me a message and let me know, and I will try and answer any questions. Also let me know any topics you would like me to cover in future blog posts. Love to all, have a good week guys!

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At 6.30am, the lights of the hospital ward flicker on. They don’t wake me up; I’ve been awake all night. Between the visits from the doctors and psychiatrist at 3am and the half hourly blood pressure checks I’ve not had a minute of sleep. The ward begins to stir around me. Curtains between beds are fully opened. A nurse offers me some supplies for a wash. I decline. I am not entirely sure where I am. Or how I got here. The past few hours have been a complete blur of tests, and repeating the same information over and over again to different healthcare professionals. Each time, my story getting more muddled, more confused and less detailed. I lay in bed completely still even though I’m desperate for the toilet. I know my legs won’t actually carry me there. And I honestly don’t care if I wet myself. I don’t care about anything.

My stomach hurts, a deep aching pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I feel so nauseous that even if I had the motivation to move, I know I wouldn’t be able to. My head throbs. I feel dizzy. I don’t understand how I got here. I don’t remember what I did. I don’t want to remember.

Nurses offer me a cup of tea, which I accept but which goes cold beside me. I can’t even face taking on any liquid. My stomach wants nothing in it. I am offered food. I refuse it all. Even when I am asked by a nurse if she can make me a sandwich so that I eat something. I shake my head and close my eyes again, lying sweaty and exhausted in my bed.

Eventually I ask a nurse to take me to the toilet. She brings a wheelchair over to assist me and I struggle to get out of bed into it. I am so aware of how bad I smell. My entire body is shaking uncontrollably.

When I lay back in bed, still, my legs twitch every few seconds. I would cry, but I don’t have the energy to. I have nothing left. I am at the end. I did not expect to wake up this morning. But I did.

As life on the ward starts up for the day, I wait until a doctor comes to see me to ask where I am. I know what hospital I am in, but that’s all. I ask for my ward and bed number and visiting hour details so that I can at least have my own pajamas brought to me. I’ve spent the night in a hospital gown following an ECG earlier in the night. Every time I move in bed, I find another tab on my body left over from the ECG. My heart was fine. My blood work was fine. My blood pressure was becoming fine. My life was no longer in danger. Not physically anyway.

I see the girl in the bed next to me. She looks young, and hasn’t emerged from her cucoon of sheets all morning. When she does, I see her face properly. I see her arms, her scars. I look at her and I know. She is here for the same reason as me. She is at the end.

I am told I could be here for days until they can find me a more permanent bed. I am told that could be anywhere in the country. And that is all I am told. I have never been so scared in my entire life.

The day I almost died

Tuesday 19^th July 2016

This is the hardest thing I will ever write. Even now, as I write this, I have no idea if I will ever publish it. Maybe I will, but there’s a huge chance that I won’t. It’s still too hard to talk about, to admit to. But it’s important that I at least document the occasion.

One year ago, to the day, I was hospitalised following an attempt to take my life. It was following months of declining mental health, with depression gradually increasing in severity and anxiety taking over my life. I had memory problems for months; I would go to boil the kettle and find I had already done it. Sometimes I would find that I suddenly did not recognise where I was, despite being in a very familiar place. I became convinced that someone was following me everywhere wanting to hurt me. I had hallucinations of this “man” moving about behind me, even when my back was to a wall. My psychiatrist knew about all of this, my best friend made sure of that when he accompanied me on all of my appointments. But there didn’t seem to be anything anyone could do.

Eventually, on 19^th July 2015, I broke completely. I didn’t plan it before then, but after weeks of contemplating suicide every day I finally decided there was nothing left for me in life. I’m not going to go into detail on how I tried it, why it failed or how I ended up in hospital. All I’ll say is that it failed, and hospital was my destination. I finally started to get the help I so desperately needed. The weeks and months following the attempt are actually rather blurry, as I attempted to piece my life back together. I had to learn to want to live again. To see a reason to wake up every morning. Friends and family were incredible, and there is no way I would still be here without them. The support and love I received came in many forms. From hugs and cups of tea, to meals being put in front of me and my kitchen cleaned. From multiple late night movies, and drinks at the pub to holding my hand as I cried. It made the difference between me living and dying.

It’s incredibly surreal, that today it has been an entire year. I feel like a completely different person. It really is strange just how much can change in a year. Since 2016 began, I’ve finally felt like I’m piecing together a good life for myself. It’s not been all smooth running. I found myself with nowhere to live for a couple of months (thanks to Jo for taking me in!), and had to cope with the death of my wonderful Great Grandad. But, I have achieved so much. I finally became a homeowner, and the surrogate mother to my two beautiful cats. I am returning home to full time employment. I have had the privilege to watch several close friends get their degrees, even though I watched from the other side of the world. I feel closer than ever to my family and my friends. Today, I feel so very lucky. I have so many things that other do not.

This trip has really been the turning point. I have done so many things that terrify me. New people and new places that would once have left me crippled with panic, are now just part of every day. I have accomplished things that I never thought I would. I have checked things off my bucket list. I have learnt to adapt to change and embrace the unknown. I have finally felt peace and joy and contentment. I have experienced what it’s like to have a clear mind. I have felt pure freedom.

It has not all been easy. Of course, like anything in life, travel has its ups and downs and it has obstacles to overcome. But I’m proud of myself for how I have dealt with them. Yes, I have cried. I have missed home. I have felt pain. But that’s ok. That’s what makes us human. Nobody can feel happy all the time. But this time last year I genuinely felt like I would never feel even a spark of happiness again. It’s been a bloody long hard road, and at times I have felt so alone despite always having support on hand. It’s been a year of countless doctors and psychiatrists and nurses and counselling. But for the first time, I actually think I’ll be ok. I’ve had depression for years and years, and I probably will for the rest of my life. Maybe I will always have to take medication. Maybe not. But it’s ok. I feel like things will be ok. And I’ve never felt that way before.

I guess the reason I’m writing this is to prove that things can get better. Obviously my situation and my problems are unique to me, and everyone else has their own situations and problems that are unique to them. But I’ve come from the darkest point in my life to the brightest. So I guess it’s possible for anyone. If I’ve learnt anything from this trip, it’s this: life isn’t about the destination, it’s about the journey. If you concentrate on the end game, you miss the ride. The bumps in the road will happen, but they are all part of it. This thing we call life is messy, and it’s hard, and at times the path is dark. But even the longest night ends, and the sun rises. The journey is what it’s all about. The people you meet and the things you see along the way are what it’s all about. And I feel so grateful for all those people. Both the ones who have stuck around for years, and those who I was destined to only cross paths with once.

I hope this time next year I will still be thankful to be alive. I hope for a year filled with my favourite things. Cups of tea and cake with friends. Staying at the pub until closing after too many glasses of wine. Laying under the stars. Long runs in the countryside. Lazy Sunday mornings with bacon sandwiches and cat cuddles. Weekend trips to visit friends across the country. Family dinners. Quality time with my brothers. Movie nights. Hours curled up with a good book. Hot bubble baths. Painting my nails in the pub. Sharing communion at church. Celebrations of all sorts. I know it won’t always be a smooth road. But I actually feel pretty good about this next year. There is a whole world still to see, and I’m not checking out until I have seen it all.

The harsher side to travel

13^th July

The past week has been pretty tough. I left Malaysia feeling rejuvenated and ready for the next stage of my travel. I had two nights stopover in Kuta, Bali and to be honest, I wasn’t taken with it at all. As I walked down the streets (in very conservative clothing, I add), every group of local men I walked past cat-called me. Nothing nasty, just stuff like “Hello, pretty lady”, but it was enough to make me feel vulnerable for the first time since I left home. Kuta itself was full of Western chain shops, tourists and one very crowded beach. I ended up finding a hotel on the beach and paying to use their pool because there really wasn’t anything else to do. I ate at the Hard Rock Café that night, purely to feel safe and comfortable. I sat up at the bar and chatted to bartenders over cocktails and felt much better. But it felt like a wasted couple of days, in a place that I really had no interest in.

When I arrived on Lombok island I fell instantly in love with it. It’s a small island; you can drive from North to South on the rather rocky, potholed filled roads in around three hours. The sense of community was strong, with large families still celebrating Eid in full swing. My homestay was lovely, and in the middle of nowhere. So far, so good. The real problems hit when I decided to climb Mount Rinjani.

Mount Rinjani is Indonesia’s second tallest volcano, and towers over the island at over 12,000ft above sea level. I had read it would be a hard climb, but I’m fairly fit and was up for the challenge. To be honest, it still feels like the biggest mistake I have made. The danger and exhaustion were so real, and the views could not make up for it. The hike up to the Crater Rim (sitting at almost 9000ft) was ten hours (I had been led to believe it was a lot less than this). The final five hours were the worst. I was struggling to put one foot in front of the other. Parts of it were so steep that you had to use your hands to pull yourself over the rocks. As the sun set, it dawned on me that I was going to still be climbing in the dark and suddenly I was terrified. The group I had set off with were all way ahead, and I had only locals for company. It was one of those locals who took me under his wing and encouraged me for the final hour with words of comfort. “It’s ok,” he would say “you can do it”. Stumbling over loose rocks and volcanic ash, clutching my torch in one hard and using my free hand to pull myself over the bigger rocks, I did not believe him one bit. But his help and his words were constant. As tears streamed down my face, he kept me calm. It had rained earlier in the day, so my damp clothes were causing me to shiver in the low temperatures (less than 10 degrees centigrade). I had to stop after every step, my thighs and calves burning and threatening to give up. I had no choice but to go onwards and upwards, to yet colder and thinner air. When I finally saw the glowing lights of camp, and fumbled over the last rock I burst into tears and ran into the arms of a girl named Nihad from my trek group, who had only been a little in front of me and had waited for me.

There were hundreds of people in camp, and it took all my concentration not to trip over various tent pegs on the search for my tent. Nihad and I found our tent and crawled into it, huddling inside in an attempt to find warmth. I immediately changed into dry clothes, snuggled into my sleeping bag and lay down. Every inch of my body hurt. I like to physically challenge myself, but this was on a whole other level. The porters appeared at our tent flap with food, but I was far too exhausted to eat a single bite. Nihad forced a few cookies down me, and we bonded over our pain. We had arrived in the dark so didn’t even have a good view to reward ourselves with. I was asleep by 7.30pm. The tent was on hard rocky ground and on a slope, but I was too tired to care. People were due to get up at 2am to climb another three hours to the summit, but I knew my body could not do it. And by the end of the next day, I was so thankful that I didn’t attempt it.

The next morning I sat around camp for several hours, awaiting the return of those who had gone to the summit. Every person returned with the same conclusion: “It was so cold”. The views around me were spectacular, but in all honesty I just wanted to get off that mountain. My legs felt like jelly, and I was fed up of constantly being on a slope. The original plan was to spend that second day climbing the 600m down to the crater lake, swimming in it for a while before ascending the 600m the other side. I decided to skip this day (as did others in my group), eager to be back on level ground and safety. It was another good decision. The climb down the mountain was just as hard. The first few hours were worse going down than they had been coming up. Every step was on loose rocks and I was slipping all over the place. At one point, somebody dropped a bag of rubbish (accidently or on purpose I don’t know) and I watched it soar past me, gaining momentum and tumbling down the mountain before hitting a large rock and splitting open, contents spilling everywhere. A horrible thought popped into my mind. What if that happens to me? I have seriously never been so scared, and tears welled up in my eyes again. I only got down those first few hours because of the help of one of our porters. He was wearing flip flops, and carrying a long stick on his shoulders, with baskets at each end filled with food, water and supplies. And he held my hand for a good two hours, helping me over every obstacle and stopping me from falling every time I slipped. Further down the mountain, we ran out of water. The porter who had been with me had none left, and neither did I. The other porters were further down. I went an hour without water, dehydration slowly setting in. At one point I near collapsed. I sat down at the side of the path, feeling completely defeated and unable to think of anything except water. A couple of walkers went by and saw my empty water bottle. They filled it part way with some of their own water and I gratefully drank every drop. Able to walk again, I found my way to the lunch stop.

By now it was 4pm; I downed a load of water immediately, wolfed down the noodles and embraced the break. But we still had a couple hours ahead of us. The final part of the walk was easier, but in my state every step was still a challenge. We decided that running down the hill would be easier and gave it a go. And it actually was. Despite my aching muscles I started running, and actually enjoyed the freedom. I was running down a volcano, over every obstacle, almost free running. And we ran for an hour. It felt good. That despite everything that had happened, and despite my broken body, I could still run. Until I couldn’t. I hit the wall, and was unable to go any further. From that point I hobbled. Clutching my water bottle in my hand I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. At 6pm, I finally reached the end of the trail. Covered in dirt, it took me several attempts to climb into the back of the open truck ready to go back to my homestay.

The owner of my homestay had to help me up the two steps to my room, my legs were broken. I showered slowly, scrubbing the mud and ash and dirt off my legs, my face, my hair. I collapsed on the bed, my legs stiff and no longer functioning as legs. By 7.30pm I was asleep.

If I’m honest, I do still regret doing that climb. I mean, it’s pretty cool to be able to say that I’ve climbed an active volcano. But the risks involved were just not worth it. I hope that one day I’ll be able to look back and remember the view and smile. That the pain will become a funny anecdote. But right now, I’m just happy to be safe.

30 Hours in Luxury

Tuesday 5^th July 2016

After successfully negotiating the exceptionally confusing Colombo airport (which included three separate sets of security), I found my way onto the more than half empty plane to Kuala Lumpur. As it was a three hour overnight flight (with a +2.5 hour time difference on arrival) I was thrilled to find I had three seats to lay down over for the duration of the journey. I got no sleep, but at least felt rested when we landed at the painfully early time of 4.30am.

On arrival at KL airport I found myself the best coffee I’ve ever tasted. It was very strong, and made with a little condensed milk, reminding me of all the delicious coffees I consumed in Vietnam six years ago. In my sleep deprived state I found the taxi counter, purchased a ticket and found the taxi to take me into the city. The hour drive to the hotel was mesmerising. The buildings everywhere were so damn tall and beautifully lit up in an array of lights. I remember being in New York a few years ago and being completely unable to comprehend the height of the skyscrapers. This was a similar feeling, made all the more awe inspiring by the thousands of lights against the dark night’s sky. I arrived at my hotel at 6.30am where I was told my room would be available at 11am and I could relax by the infinity pool until then. Despite my complete lack of sleep, I was wide awake and so full of energy from the excitement of it all. I sat and watched the sunrise over KL with only a very lovely security man for company. It was a very relaxing morning and that child-like sense of wonder had deeply set in. I couldn’t help but think of my baby cousin Reece at Christmas. At 17 months old, he’d just learnt the word “wow” and everything he saw and every present he opened received an enthusiastic “wow” as if he really was that excited about everything. That was exactly how I felt right then. Like a child seeing something for the first time.

I’ve stayed in posh hotels in Europe as a teenager. The only perk of my dad working away from home were the Hilton points he collected meaning free/cheap stays with executive room upgrades in  Hilton hotels across the continent. But I’ve never stayed in a nice hotel that I’ve paid for myself. And this hotel was incredibly posh. My room was huge and complete with sofa, dining table and small kitchen. I felt like a mini celebrity throughout my stay, with staff being so helpful with everything. I thoroughly enjoyed my hot power shower followed by snuggling up in a fluffy white dressing gown and lying across my soft and squishy king sized bed. I felt so grown up yet also an imposter in the adult world at the same time. It was the kind of hotel that would easily charge over £200 a night back home; where businessmen would stay after important meetings, or rich families would take their holidays. Yet I had paid a mere £40 (admittedly four months ago) and that included breakfast. I simply couldn’t believe my luck.

I was instantly taken with KL when I went out to explore the city. It was an incredible mix of East meets West, with roadside stands selling local Malaysian food next to a large shopping mall containing a H&M that became a slight lifesaver (I needed new sunglasses, I broke mine because I’m clumsy…). Everything in that city was huge. Each building towered so far above me. It should have been intimidating, but it wasn’t. I actually felt remarkably at home. It had enough familiarities of the West along with all the charm of the East. The Petronas Twin Towers were the highlight by far. Towering above all the other buildings, you could not miss them. I had another “wow” moment as I stood at the base of one of the towers and looked up. I could not see the top. It seemed to go on forever, disappearing far into the clouds. I spent quite a while walking around the towers, examining them from every angle including from a small distance. They were truly a remarkable piece of architecture. I’m not usually a fan of buildings, preferring natural wonders over man made. But this really was spectacular.

I left KL with great sadness; thirty hours was not enough time to witness all the city had to offer. But I felt so well rested and ready to face Indonesia.

Why I’m in love with Sri Lanka

Friday marked the end of my wonderful five week placement in Sri Lanka. I left my last project with an overwhelming mix of feelings; sadness at leaving such amazing kids behind, pride at what I have achieved, relief that I would finally get a rest and excitement at my adventures to come. What I have found hardest these past few days is the knowledge that things will never be the same again. The evenings spent with roommates chasing bugs out of the room, the stressful Monday morning project planning, the journeys on crowded buses to get to projects, the weekends spent admiring breath-taking views and the meals shared with people from all over the world. Even if we managed to all meet-up and be together again, nothing will actually be the same. And nobody will understand what we all went through, not really, not unless they were there. They may understand what it’s like to cope with the suffocating humidity and heat, with very questionable fashion choices made with only practicality and decency in mind. Maybe they would understand the beauty witnessed every time the sun set in the sky. They may even understand the frustration felt after an unsuccessful project, a mixture of deflation that hard work had not paid off with determination to do better next time. But they will never understand what it was like to be there at that moment in time with that particular group of people. I hope my memory can do these experiences justice. I hope in the future I can recall how I felt sat on a beach seeing Mars in the sky for the very first time. Or how beautiful an Asian elephant is when it’s only 5 feet away. I hope I remember every time a kid smiled at me, reassuring me that the work I was doing was worthwhile. Most of all, I hope I always remember how free I felt when I danced. Whether it was at a bar with my friends or at a project with people who don’t speak my language. I never want to forget that feeling.

Over the past five weeks, Sri Lanka has completely captured my heart. I have witnessed beauty that I didn’t even know existed in the world, and I am totally smitten. So here are seven reasons that I am in love with Sri Lanka.

7. The views

Before I came to Sri Lanka, I had never heard about the views that I would witness. As an island nation, it boasts the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen. With pure white sand, and the clearest of waters, the beaches look like your typical tropical island that I honestly believed only existed in pictures. The sunset over the sea is truly spectacular with the sun so big in the sky, reflecting its light over the ocean and creating temporary, yet extraordinary views. Views over the mountains left me completely speechless; with greenery extended as far as the eye could see. Every day in Sri Lanka I saw something beautiful.

6. Being barefoot

I have always hated wearing shoes. I remember being told off by my dad as a child for always going into the garden or across the road to neighbours houses without shoes on. I take my shoes off at work back home, and walk around in my socks or in slippers. Shoes just feel too restrictive to me. I have spent the majority of my time barefoot here, whether it was on a beach, at a project, or even walking through the street to a temple. I love the feel of the ground beneath my feet, it feels so natural to me.

5. The food

Rice and curry will never be as good as it is in Sri Lanka. The mixture of spices and flavours are perfectly moulded together into a plate of deliciousness that you scoop up with your hands and into your mouth. Most curries I have eaten have been vegetable based, often with vegetables I have never heard of. At my homestay, I always looked forward to dinner, to see what was in store for us that night. Everything is so full of flavour. My tolerance for spicy food has gone through the roof, to the point that today I sat and sweated whilst eating my lunch from the spice, and the burning around my lips afterwards serving as a reminder of the amazing food I had just consumed. Coconuts are found everywhere, and are served whole, with the top cut off and a straw placed inside to allow you to soak up the wonderfully refreshing water within. Rotti and paratas have been my favourite lunchtime foods, a mixture of dough and spiced vegetables serving as a perfect recharge in the middle of the day. The bananas are exceptionally sweet, rambutan are available to buy at any roadside, and pineapples were served up having just been picked from outside the house. The array of colours and vibrant flavours in all the food is something that I have enjoyed thoroughly, and will miss dearly.

4. The wildlife

On a walk home from projects one day I was followed home by around ten monkeys, all running along telephone wires and throwing themselves from tree to tree. Whilst mildly terrifying, it was also rather wonderful. Dogs and cats are everywhere, and I have had the privilege to cuddle a few adorable puppies with their owners blessing. Chipmunks scurry around just like squirrels do back home, but are cheekier and smaller. The dragonflies and butterflies that inhabit the air around you are the most colourful I’ve ever seen, a mixture of bright blues and greens swirled into stunning patterns. The fireflies come out at night, looking like Christmas lights dancing around providing light in the darkness. Cows roam the streets, often walking down the middle of the road with the traffic barely noticing the minor detour it has to take around the animals. Wild elephants can be spotted at night, if you are in the right place at the right time. Geckos frequently visit bedrooms at night, climbing up walls and hurrying out of sight. The wildlife has made this trip truly special, and has constantly amazed me.

3. Positivity

I would consider myself a fairly positive person; I prefer to see the good in a situation than the bad, and believe the best in people. Sri Lankans are the most positive people I have met. So many times I have had one say to me “why are you worried?” with an explanation that worrying won’t actually help or change anything. They are the friendliest bunch of people, always saying hello when passing you on the street, and holding your bag on the bus when it’s too busy for you to sit down. Everyone helps everyone out. I have witnessed such kindness in people every single day, which is refreshing to see. The positive atmosphere rubs off on you, making you feel much more chilled out and relaxed. Sri Lankan Time is a side effect of this laid back attitude. Any time you are given to meet somewhere, add fifteen minutes and it will be the actual time you will be met. I took this all in my stride. Children everywhere would say hello and smile at me wherever I went. At the end of a teaching project, the students would shake your hand and say “thank you, teacher”. Other people would ask where you were going and help you to get there. You could turn up at a bus station with no idea how to get to your destination, simply say the name of it and it would be worked out for you and the correct bus or buses pointed out. It’s so different from the usual head down and walk through Birmingham city ignoring everyone. I really will miss it.

2. Simplicity

The lack of internet, television and computers has forced a simpler lifestyle upon me. The hours spent watching Netflix have turned into hours available for reading. I have finished 8 books in 5 weeks. I don’t think I have read 8 books in the last year. I have missed the joy of losing myself in a good book, of immersing myself completely in another world hungrily seeking answers to questions brought up and being thrilled at every plot twist and turn. Other free time has been spent in the company of people from all over the world, sharing stories from our lives and laughing until our bellies hurt. The lack of hot water hasn’t bothered me. Sharing one bathroom between four people was surprisingly easy. I found that the simplicity of living helped me to feel less stressed, moulding me into a far more chilled out person.

1. The people

People can make or break a trip like this, and I have been so lucky to work and live with some of the best. For most of my trip my roommates consisted of an Italian, an American, a Glaswegian and myself (sounds like the start of a bad joke, I know). We found common ground in our love of computer games and science fiction and in my three roommates’ fear of spiders, cockroaches and other bugs that I found myself ridding our bedroom of most nights, whilst they stood by squealing. The four of us became rather proficient at catching and squishing mosquitos (sadly, usually after they had sucked the blood out of one of us), and bonded over shared Nutella at breakfast time. Nobody blinked an eyelid when walking into a room to find roommates in various stages of undress due to the stifling heat. Nobody spoke to each other first thing in the morning, with a mutual understanding that doing so could result in losing a limb. We talked and cheered each other up after bad days. Insults and banter flowed freely, as if we had all known each other for years rather than weeks. But when you’re thrown into a situation where you both live and work with people, friendships that would usually take months to build up are created in a day. Choruses of “it’s too hot” became part of the bonding experience. When someone was ill, they were looked after. It was like we formed our own little family, one in which I looked forward to coming home to every evening. Emma, Aishani and Alice, if you are reading this, thank you for being the best roommates I could have hoped for. I will treasure every memory forever, and consider myself lucky to have had the privilege of getting to know you all.

The six other people on my intake became another great circle of friends. I remember the first time I met everyone, in the minibus on the way to orientation. Jen had arrived in the early hours of the morning, and was excessively hyper due to sleep deprivation. Brandon turned up an hour or so into orientation having only just landed in the country. Chris was suffering from sickness, and I think the rest of us were rather out of it due to jetlag. Yet here we were, all sat around a table with no idea what the next five weeks were going to hold. We clicked instantly. Jungle weekend helped to consolidate our friendships over too much alcohol, games of never have I ever and dancing in the rain. Over the weeks we worked together at various projects and spent weekends exploring Sri Lanka with other volunteers. We witnessed beauty so pure it made us cry. We experienced frustrating long, hot and crowded bus journeys together. We had rough days together. We supported each other and built each other up. I think we made a damn good team, and I am so proud of every single person. So a shout out to Jen, Hannah, Fliss, Karen, Chris and Brandon, my Horana/Bandaragama  30^th May intake crew. I think we did pretty good. I wish for good things for all of you, and hope the future brings what you desire.

To anybody I met whilst in Sri Lanka, thank you for being awesome. Whether we stay in touch and see each other when possible, or whether life takes us in separate directions, I will always treasure the memories we shared. The good and the bad. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

The train through the mountains

27th June 2016

After spending the Saturday in Ella, I decided to take the train back to Colombo with one other member of our group. This meant getting the 9.23am train as it took 10 hours to get to Colombo, and we then have an hour bus to get home. I was so excited to have a journey where I wasn’t cramped in a bus, where I could stand up and walk around and where I didn’t get travel sick. We purchased out second class tickets and waited in anticipation for the train to arrive, completely bemused by the people randomly walking along the train tracks.

The seats on the train were fairly comfortable, and had the most leg room I have ever seen. The windows slid open enough that you could hang your head and arms out. The doors to the platform could be wedged open, and people sat in the doorways with their legs tucked under on the steps, leaning out to fully take in the view.

The train climbed higher for the first couple of hours, the outside breeze getting colder and colder, forcing me to put a long sleeved top on. There are no words to describe the views that I saw. No photo will do it justice. But I was in total awe. As the hours passed by, the mountain views turned into tea plantations, along with the delightful smell of tea that reminds me so much of home. The plantations gave way into thicker jungle and the humidity and heat gradually returned to the air.

Towards the end of the journey, I sat down in the doorway of the carriage, with my legs dangling over the edge of the train. Holding on to the rail with both hands, I leant forward and watched the city night zooming by. A grin spread from ear to ear and stayed firmly planted on my face as the thrill and adrenaline rushed through my body. Ten hours on that train flew by. I arrived back in Colombo relaxed, peaceful and so thankful that I witnessed the raw untouched views of Sri Lanka. 

A day in the mountains

Monday 27th June 2016

In the past month, I have found that some of the best moments have been those that were completely unexpected. They have occurred when something has not gone to plan. And so I’ve learnt to embrace it. To be open to sudden changes and seek out the beauty waiting to be uncovered.

On Friday night, we found ourselves stranded in the coastal town of Matara, five hours away from our planned destination of Ella. We had missed the bus, with the next one not due to depart until 3.20am. We decided there was no way we were going to get a bus at that time and decided to find a place to stay nearby. I had already spent over seven hours on hot, public buses that day, so it was actually a minor relief in some ways that I wouldn’t have to get on another bus that night. We quickly found a hostel with space for the eleven of us in the nearby beach town of Mirissa, hopped on a bus there and were settled in the hostel within the hour. We dumped our stuff and headed straight for the bar on the beach, where we bumped into about another 15 SLVers. We were just in time for the tail end of happy hour (actually happy 6 hours) so we got the cocktails in and joined in with the party. It was so great to have so many of us there, letting our hair down after what had been a particularly tough week. I got to talk to so many people, paddled in the shallows of the sea and had a stroll down the beach. The hostel bed that night was seriously the most comfortable bed I have had all trip. The pillow and mattress were so soft that I sunk into them, and had a very happy night’s sleep.

The bus to Ella the next morning was a long, hot and uncomfortable five hours. I spent most of it balancing one bum cheek on a seat, clinging on to the chair in front to avoid being thrown across the bus at every turn. The final hour was much more bearable, as I had managed to nab a window seat and so had the advantages of both fresh air and spectacular views through the mountains up towards Ella. I have been fortunate enough to have witnessed views over many mountain ranges in my life, including the wonderful mountains of Austria. But this was on a whole other level. It was beautiful; I was totally transfixed.

The mountain air in Ella was wonderfully cool, fresh and not humid. For the first time in a month, I wasn’t sticky and sweaty, a break that was very much welcome. The hotel manager was so welcoming and prepared ginger tea for us all as arrival drinks. We had arrived too late in the afternoon to visit the tea plantation so decided to climb Little Adams Peak for sunset. The walk was fairly easy, only half an hour or so. The final bit was a bit of a slog up concrete steps that seemed never ending and left everyone’s thighs burning. The view from the top did not disappoint. We were almost the only ones up there and we could see for miles. The sun was beginning to set over the mountains, casting a beautiful golden glow across the land. We sat, in silence, for some time; some people meditating, others simply admiring the view and I took the time to pray and give thanks that I got to witness such beauty. I felt so completely calm, despite actually being quite cold. I embraced the chill, with the knowledge that it was only temporary and that within a day I would be constantly sweaty again. There’s something rather special about being in a group of friends, all experiencing beauty in complete and total silence. Nobody spoke a word. I felt so at one with the Earth and my surroundings; I could have sat there for hours. It was one of those special moments that left me wishing I could freeze time and experience it for an eternity. To feel so at peace, so relaxed and so content is such a rarity in my life. I am so privileged to be making these memories.

I slept incredibly well that night, after my first hot shower in a month, snuggled under a sheet and blanket. After four weeks of sleeping in as little clothing as possible, under a fan in an attempt to keep my body at a semi-normal temperature, being curled up under a blanket was a refreshing change. I love to be wrapped up in a duvet at night, and that is something I have actually really missed. Most nights I’m too warm to even have a sheet over me. But that night in Ella, I got to sleep in a room, without the need for a fan, buried in a blanket feeling warm and so completely safe. 

A weekend of bus problems

Monday 20th June 2016

Wednesday lunchtime last week marked the start of my five day adventure up to the north of Sri Lanka to the town of Kilinocchi. The twelve hour minibus journey was made slightly more bearable by the presence of air conditioning, and the driver was the same awesome driver we had last weekend. A much needed food stop occurred around 9.30pm at Pizza Hut and we all filled our bellies with deliciousness. Once back in the minibus, the driver demonstrated that the bus would not start and then proceeded to laugh at me for ten minutes, whilst periodically saying “push”. We thought he was joking and had called someone to come and help. Eventually we realised he was being serious and wanted us to get out and push the van to help it to start. This was the first bus problem of the weekend and caused much hilarity. We arrived in Kilinocchi gone midnight and were informed we had an early start in the morning to arrive at the hospital for 7.30.

Nobody got much sleep that night due to the stifling hot bedrooms, which made Thursday a long day. We shadowed a psychiatrist for the day which was so interesting but also quite hard to see at times (blog post on this will follow). By around 5pm we were on the bus to Trincomalee which was fairly uneventful until we were only a few miles from our destination when the bus came to a sudden stop. The driver opened up the engine inside the bus, directing a wave of heat over us, and fiddled with it for a few minutes. This was the second bus problem of the weekend, though we were back on the road again fairly quickly.

We explored Trincomalee the next morning which was beautiful. The beach views were stunning from the temple, I’ve never seen such clear waters. We took the bus to Nilaveli beach and found a hotel on the beachfront where we sat with cocktails and food all afternoon. It was a hidden paradise. We swam in the sea which was so clear and so warm and we had an incredibly relaxing afternoon. It was actually rather perfect.

On the way back to our hotel that afternoon, our bus was pulled over by the police. The driver was taken to one side for around five minutes by the officers, whilst every single person on the rather crowded bus craned their necks to see what was going on. This was the third and final bus problem of the weekend, and I still have no idea what happened. When we returned to the hotel it was already getting dark, and we arrived to find a table of party food, with a beautiful pink birthday cake at pride of place in the centre. A candle in the shape of the number eight was lit in the middle and a smiling young Sri Lankan girl in her party dress was stood by it. We were ushered over by the family and enthusiastically invited to join in the celebrations. The family all lived at the hotel, I assume they were the extended family of the owner. This little girl had so many people at her birthday party and she did not stop grinning all night. She cut her birthday cake and carried out the Sri Lankan tradition of feeding bites of cake to all the guests before finally getting to have some herself. We told her, in Sinhala, that she looked beautiful, and she giggled and smiled. It was one of those moments where despite being so far away from home, I felt so at home. We had been completely welcomed in by this family and made to feel like we belonged.

The next day, we took a boat over to Pigeon Island National Park. To be honest, it was the first time this trip that I was actually a little disappointed. I know that parts of the coral reef were dying, but that didn’t prepare me for the actual sheer volume of dead coral on one side of the island when we arrived. It was actually a little heartbreaking. The entire beach was just dead washed up coral, and there was little to see in the rough waters. After some time battling against the waves with my snorkel I gave up and got out. It was then that I realised there was another side to the island, and I went round to find a beautiful bay, protected from the waves and tide. The water that side was much nicer. It was easy to just float in and I saw so many beautiful fish. A lot of the coral was dead still though, because the activity on the island is so unregulated. It saddened me that human’s determination to witness beauty was the thing that had destroyed the natural beauty of the coral. Had I known the extent to which the coral was destroyed, I probably would have chosen not to visit. But then hindsight is always a wonderful thing.

Starry Night Skies and Elephants in the Wild

Monday 13th June 2016

This weekend, a group of twelve of us hired a minibus and endured a seven hour drive to the beautiful Arugam Bay on the East coast of Sri Lanka. By the time we arrived in our five bedroom apartment complete with a kitchen, dining room, and outdoor party space (for a mere £10 per person per night FYI), we were so ready to start the party. Vodka was consumed rather quickly, make-up was applied to faces and outfits that showed our knees and shoulders were selected. Four tuk tuks arrived to take us out for the night. Or so we planned. We asked to go to a bar. Five minutes later we were pulling up to a very deserted, rather shady looking side street to an admittedly beautiful yet totally empty bar. A few people bought some beer (which actually was delicious) and we tried a second time to instruct the tuk tuk drivers to take us to a beach party. They got it half right. We arrived at a beautiful beach, that was completely dark with not a single bar, shop or person in sight. It wasn’t what we wanted but my goodness it really was breath-taking. 

You’ve never known true freedom until you’ve been on an empty beach, at night, whilst slightly tipsy with a group of wonderful friends. We paddled in the very shallows of the sea, the water wonderfully warm. But the part that really took our breath away were the stars. Away from all light pollution, in the darkest night, the sky was the clearest black. I have never seen so many stars in my life. There were stars upon stars upon stars, with almost no space in between. It was like someone had been given a blank canvas and thrown stars across it until there physically was no room for any more. And the way they swirled around each other looked like we were looking at distant galaxies. The brightest star of them all, glowing a gorgeous burnt orange colour and taking pride of place in the night sky was Mars. I have never seen a planet in the sky before, and there Mars was, as clear as anything. I actually cried at the sheer beauty of what I was witnessing, and I wasn’t the only one who did. There was a lot of hugging each other and being amazed at how lucky we were to be the ones to witness this. It’s sad that no photo or description will ever do it justice. All I have is the memory imprinted within me that I was fortunate to be able to share with new friends.

The next morning we all went for a hangover breakfast. Drinking had continued after we returned from the beach and into the early hours of the morning. After breakfast we hit the beach, immediately stripped down to our bathing suits and ran into the sea. The water was so warm and clear, it was just perfect, and a pretty instant hangover cure. Arugam Bay is a popular surfing spot, so the waves were big. We swam out for a while, and were tossed about by the waves, being turned upside down multiple times. At lunchtime, I had chips. I had been craving chips for days, and I was so happy to finally have some in my belly. I headed back to the hotel earlier than the others due to bad sunburn despite the factor 50 sun cream and having stayed in the shade almost all day. After cooling off and showering we all went out to a beautiful restaurant on the beach front for a starlit and candlelit dinner. We ate our Western food (I had pasta nom nom nom) to the sound of the waves rolling up to shore.

After only two hours sleep, I woke up at 1.15am to prepare for our 2am departure for Udawalawe. Less than half an hour into the journey the driver stopped rather suddenly. He turned his headlights up to full and told us to look out the front window. A few metres down the road, three wild elephants were casually crossing the road. I have never seen a wild elephant, and here were three right in front of us at 2.30am. It was an incredibly moving experience, despite my tiredness. At 3am, when almost everyone else in the minibus was sleeping, the driver pulled over and declared to me that we had a flat tyre. I got out of the van with my torch to provide light for him to change the tyre. It only took about 15 minutes, and it was so peaceful standing in the warm night air at the side of an empty road under the stars.

We arrived at Uddawallawe just before 6am ready for our safari. After some confusion about costs that were too much for our sleep deprived brains we set out in two jeeps into the national park. It took almost no time at all before we came across our first family of elephants. They crossed in front of us to drink from a small pool of water and we watched on in complete awe. When they were done they walked towards us and past the jeeps, almost close enough to touch. It was then that the sheer size of them became clear. They really are magnificent creatures and I could have watched them all day. Later on we came across a one month old baby elephant. I’ve never seen such a small elephant. It was so adorable! There really aren’t words to describe the experience of seeing so many elephants, so I’m not going to try. It’s something I will never forget. All of us fell asleep at the end of the safari, the lull of the jeeps movements proving too much for our drooping eyelids. We had more confusion over money for the tip, which was too much to deal with on two hours sleep, but I refused to let it spoil the experience. The weekend really was incredible, and one I will treasure for a very long time. There were so many moments where I felt like the luckiest girl in the world over and over again. I am so completely in love with Sri Lanka, and I can’t believe I’m almost half way through my time here. The entire country is so enchanting, and I’m so excited for the exploring that is still to be done.

Project planning and pizza hut

8^th June 2016

After a wonderful yet exhausting weekend in the jungle, Monday morning rolled around and it was time for my first experience of project planning. Every Monday morning we have fifteen minutes to plan each of the eight projects in our timetable that week. Now, fifteen minutes is not very long to plan a two hour creative therapy session. And it’s really not long enough to plan a two hour English lesson. Through delegation of tasks it is possible, but it was rather stressful. There was so much information to take in and I became completely overwhelmed for the first time since I left the UK. Friends were all so helpful; one even took my timetable and wrote out where I was supposed to be and when by hand so I could read it more clearly. So I started the week not overly confident on how these sessions were going to go.

The way my timetable works is as follows. We have two projects a day (morning and afternoon) with Monday mornings reserved for project planning and Friday afternoons free for us to go travelling for the weekend. Turns out, I didn’t need to stress about it. Projects this week have gone well so far. They’ve been challenging, sure, but so rewarding. Running down a corridor after children to bring them back into the classroom every five minutes is not the most fun, but it’s good exercise! And the kids can’t help it (they had special needs). With that group in particular, we found a few games that worked perfectly with them, and seeing the smiles on their faces made the exhaustion completely worth it. I accidently got into a mini water fight with a young boy yesterday at the project. They had balloons to play volleyball with and one of them had the smart idea to fill one with water. I tried to recover this balloon before it was full, which resulted in the boy splashing me and me splashing him back. I actually didn’t mind at all. The whole session was chaotic but I loved it. These boys were in a children’s home, and probably got little adult attention. They thought splashing me was hilarious and were all smiling and laughing. We managed to get them to do some work on their English (they are a really intelligent bunch of kids), and so for me it was a successful session. It’s all been really hard work, harder than I was expecting, but I have honestly loved it.

After projects yesterday afternoon, I was followed home by a group of about ten monkeys up on the electricity wires. Every time we walked, they followed. Every time we stopped, they stopped and looked at us all innocently. We got rather paranoid that they would attack us and were nervously laughing. They were adorable, but monkeys around here will try and take your stuff. We came across a couple of other people in the road, and at this point the monkeys stopped following us; I like to think we showed them who was boss... So we got home in one piece with all of our belongings intact, though still slightly nervous.

The past couple of days, I have had a horrible heat rash covering my entire torso. I have several swollen mosquito bites (I’m allergic) and today have a really bad tummy, and so have been bedridden the entire day. All of this has made me quite homesick. A kitten was in our house a couple nights ago which made it all so much worse. He was just so adorable and small and made me miss my cats. And I keep having dreams about computer games. I actually dreamt that I bought a Gameboy Colour with a Harry Potter game and Pokémon Red. And feeling poorly hasn’t helped. I’d love a cup of tea and a cuddle with my cats right now. Yesterday was someone’s birthday so a group of us took the half hour bus to the nearest city and went to Pizza Hut. After ten days in Sri Lanka, I was seriously craving something that wasn’t rice and curry. That first bite of pizza was incredible, my mouth is watering now just writing about it. We had such a lovely time with all our Western food and princess party hats, even if the rest of the restaurant thought we were mad. It was just what I needed, and I went to bed feeling a hundred times better.

                                     

Cliff jumping and trust exercises

7^th June 2016

During the jungle weekend we had to do trust falling exercises. To be totally honest, they were fairly boring and my least favourite part of the weekend. But they did actually get me thinking afterwards. When we progressed from falling back into one person to falling side to side into two people it was said “trusting one person is hard, but trusting two is harder”. Never has a truer statement been uttered. Trust is something that I have always struggled with. I’m happy to be open about certain things, but when it comes to deeper feelings (romantic feelings in particular) I rarely open up. I don’t like to show vulnerability or put myself in positions where I can be hurt. And so I don’t. I found it hard just to allow myself to fall into one person. When it came to having to trust ten people to lift me off the ground and over their heads, I simply couldn’t do it. I’d been pushed to my limit already.

Cliff jumping the next day was an amazing experience, but it hit home to me that not only do I struggle to trust others, I also don’t actually trust myself. Looking over the 15 foot drop all I could think was what if I don’t do it right? What if I don’t fall how we’re supposed to? What if I don’t jump far enough? I felt frozen to the spot for a few seconds, scared of the unknown with every instinct in my body telling me to step backwards away from the edge. And then the encouragement of the others who had already jumped into the water below took over; I took a deep breath and threw myself off the ledge. My heart was pounding, my stomach lurched up into my head and I let out a huge scream. I plunged into the refreshingly cool water, and quickly kicked myself back up to the surface. It was one of the most exhilarating things I have ever done. Taking the step off the edge was tough. It went against every instinct in my body. But the reward for doing so was great. The adrenaline continued to pump through my veins long after we had climbed out of the water and made our way back to camp. It sounds so corny, but I learnt such an important lesson. It taught me that sometimes we should take that leap of faith. Sometimes we have to put our trust in ourselves or in others, regardless of how much it terrifies us. Because in doing so we may get the best reward of our life. I guess it’s true, that sometimes the things that scare us the most are the things that bring the richest experiences to our lives. Sometimes the risk of being hurt has to be overlooked for the possibility of great things in our futures.

White water rafting and dancing in the rain

Saturday 4th June 2016

On Friday night, after a long four hour minibus ride full of dancing, singing and multiple near accidents on the winding roads, we arrived at base camp in the jungle. Dinner was very much needed, and we started on the alcohol as soon as our plates were cleared.

There’s something to be said for bonding over drunkenness. A half played game of ring of fire turned into never have I ever which was then abandoned as the drunken desire to dance took over. It started to rain hard, and we were all so hot, so we went out from under the canopy cover and danced barefoot in the jungle night. I have never felt so free. We were soaked through in seconds, but it was wonderfully cooling and refreshing. Deep conversations were had back at the room. I swear it was one of the best nights of my entire life. I know people say that a lot, but in this case it really is true. We were completely and truly carefree. No worries or troubles, just fully living in the here and now. In our modern society that just doesn’t happen. I don’t think I have ever fully lived in the moment with a totally clear mind. I’ve worked out that’s why I’m sleeping so well. Sure, I’m tired from the long and full days. But when I go to bed, instead of having worries and anxieties, I have calm. Usually at night I start to worry about everything. I start trying to make what seem like life changing decisions in the dead of night, but are actually trivial things like how I’ll have time to make lunch to take to work. I overanalyse every conversation I’ve had that day, agonising over whether I said anything mean, or didn’t respond how I should have to something. I stress about my future and what on earth I’m going to do with my life. I ponder over how hard adult life actually is. Here, all that is gone. Here, I go to bed and recap all the wonderful things that have happened and look forward to the next day. I have wondered for a long time how people can clear their minds so perfectly through meditation. But now I think I see how. Because when I go to bed, my mind is clear. I feel at peace.

Today, I awoke in the jungle, so excited to start the day. We travelled to the white water rafting site on an open top minibus, all crammed in with some sitting and others standing. Someone helpfully pointed out that if we crashed and the bus flipped, we would all be dead. We concluded that actually, that would be a pretty good way to go. When we arrived, I was not prepared for the barefoot, rocky downhill trek to get to the water, and nearly fell countless times. Just as we were about to get into the water we spotted a five foot(ish) water monitor (similar to a crocodile, but different). It was a beautiful creature, but I was a little apprehensive about getting into the water with it.

The rafting itself was incredible, and completely exhilarating. It was beautifully sunny and it really felt like we were in the jungle book. The contrast of the green trees against the blue skies and water was stunning. I wish I could have taken photos because it was beauty like I’ve never seen before. Towards the end of the rafting, we all jumped in the river and floated over the final set of rapids, then let the current take us the rest of the way. The water was the perfect temperature in the sun and I could have stayed swimming around in there for hours. Within minutes of getting out of the water it clouded over and began to pour with rain. We walked back to the bus, arms outstretched, embracing every single drop.

The Simple Life

I swear right now I’m in my own little piece of heaven on Earth. It’s weird, I’ve left behind all the comforts of modern day living, but I’ve never been happier. I can’t remember a time when I woke up in the morning and wanted to get out of bed and see what the day had to hold. That’s never happened really, except for when I’ve been on holiday. And even though I’m working out here, I just can’t stop smiling. This morning, I was actually so happy that everyone noticed it. I have no Netflix, no computer games, no comics, no cheese, no tea or coffee, no alcohol; I don’t even have hot water.  But every single day I’ve been here I’ve felt amazing. I think there really is something to be said for simple living. The people who live here have very little. But they have exactly what they need; no more and no less. And they are so positive all of the time. They genuinely believe that Sri Lanka is the most amazing place and has everything. And I’m almost starting to agree with them. Don’t get me wrong, it sucks being away from friends and family and my cats. But that’s only temporary. And the complete peace I feel out here is something I so desperately want to bring home with me.

This past year I have struggled so much with my mental health. It’s been really rough and at times I really didn’t think I’d get through it. And then I come here and it’s like I’m suddenly excited to live again. The things that use to give me panic attacks back home, don’t seem to here. Last minute changes, new places, new people, ridiculously crowded buses; all of these are just challenges to overcome and so far I’m managing pretty well. This past year, I thought I was never in my life going to get to feel even a moment of actual happiness again. I’ve had some good times, but never this complete calm. It’s incredibly surreal, like I’m in a dream.

I mean, I have no idea how long this happiness will last. But I’m going to enjoy every last second of it. My days are long and the weather is horribly humid, changing from sun to storm in minutes. I am constantly sweating. I am very restricted in what I’m allowed to wear due to the conservative nature of the country. I have to have my tattoos covered and piercings out at all times. But I really don’t care. Everybody is so chilled out here that it’s seriously rubbing off on me…   

I saw a chipmunk for the first time today. I got so excited about it. They are so fricking adorable, with their cheeky little faces! I’m surrounded by animals here as I’m living in a small fairly rural village. There are cows and cats and dogs everywhere. Chipmunks and monkeys appear a lot too, though I’ve yet to see a monkey. And the fireflies at night are still beautiful.

This weekend I’m off into the Jungle for an adventure weekend with the team; white water rafting, cliff jumping, hiking etc. We’re allowed to drink in the jungle and I can wear shorts etc. around camp which I’m looking forward to. But mostly I’m looking forward to getting to spend more time with the awesome people I’ve already met, making memories to last a lifetime.

Turbulence, orientation and fireflies

The flight to Sri Lanka was not the most fun I’ve ever had. It was an 11 hour overnight flight in which I think I managed a total of 2 hours sleep overall. To start, there was turbulence right from take-off. This caused a small child near me to throw up all over herself. Twice. So she was crying. There were two crying babies a couple of rows in front of me. Next to one of the crying babies there was a toddler screaming so loud that I don’t think even she knew what she was screaming about. This continued on and off all night. The guy across the aisle from me snored so badly. Like the loudest most obnoxious snore I’ve ever heard. All night. The man in the seat next to me fell asleep with no problem. And then proceeded to spread out not only over his own space, but over most of mine. This included his leg under the seat in front of me, in my already limited leg room as well as his arm over the arm rest between us and resting where my leg would have been had I not made myself as small as possible in order to avoid this unwanted invasion. So between the turbulence a crying child, two crying babies, a screaming toddler, a snoring guy and a space invading man, I really didn’t get much sleep.

By the time I arrived at my homestay last night I was completely delirious from exhaustion. People spoke to me, but I have no idea who they were or what we talked about. By 8.30 I was fed (dinner was actually amazing) and crawling into bed. I passed out by 9 and slept through until this morning. So after a rather unpleasant travel experience, I had the most amazing sleep and started today feeling rested and vaguely with it.

I’ve had so much information thrown at me today at orientation that I can’t remember any of it. Fortunately they have written it all down in our project packs. I know I’m starting placements tomorrow, but I don’t know where or what I’m doing. It’s all rather chaotic, in line with the daily life of Sri Lanka.

I’ve not been here long, but so far it’s been wonderful. Everything is so mad, I love it. Tonight, when I was walking back to the house from the road, I saw my first ever fire fly. And then I saw another. I swear, I have never seen a firefly before and the only way I can describe it is magical. They were so pretty and amazing and I was actually really taken aback by their sudden sighting. Apparently they hang out around this house a lot, so I’m looking forward to sitting and watching them for a while one evening. It was one of those small things that just made me feel like the luckiest person alive.