I know the pieces fit

I watched them tumble down.

I'm glad I managed to make my last blog post: my first and only blog post from India. It captures everything well, the difficulty in adjusting to a new place, to being alone and what it is to be surrounded by the unfamiliar.

On Monday the 21st of February I arrived in India.
On Tuesday the 22nd of February a 6.3 quake hit Christchurch city - I was told my family were fine.
On Wednesday the 23rd of February I was told my aunty was missing in the CTV Building described as 'unsurvivable'.
On Thursday the 24th of February I began 37 hours of transit to Christchurch.
On Saturday the 26th of February I arrived in Christchurch.
On Tuesday the 1st of March I attended an interview.
On Wednesday the 2nd of March we had a Disaster Victim Identification Process meeting and I started work.

In a week my entire world flipped upside down. The careless travel me, who was getting very good at exploring, was thrust into my worst nightmare. My aunty is so precious to me. Growing up without my mum really present, she was the closet female role model I had. I'm not sure whether she knew I considered her as my pseudo mum, but she filled that void in excess. Her hugs surrounded you with comfort and soothed you. Her words were always wise and never judging. She always had time for you. She'd give you more than she had. She was the best and that is an understatement. Before I left Christchurch she was so worried about me telling me to take care. I wish I had asked the same of her.





When I heard of the quake, I didn't even consider checking aunty was okay. To me she always seemed invincible, and I suppose that is why this situation is so hard to deal with. She was the one family member that I imagined sipping on wine with well into my old age. I feel robbed of very special times I'd often thought about sharing with her (I actually wanted her to walk me down the isle if/when I got married). I never thought about life without her because I felt like she was MY gift and I was entitled to have her in my life always.

It has been eight days since the quake. The city is like a war zone. There are army personals everywhere, the CBD is closed off and there are tanks. There have been no more survivors from the CTV building and there are no survivors to be identified. There are just bodies and forensics teams. I hate most of all that she cannot be identified by her face. She was so beautiful. In a few days, or a few weeks, I will hear the news I do not want. I have hope that by some way of God, who she passionately believed in, she was hidden safely under some pocket of steel and has been waiting for us to find her, patiently. I know when I hear the words of confirmation it's going to hurt all over again. My strong facade is going to crumble down before me. I don't want to face that point in time where there is no more hope left, that point in time where I know I'll never see her again. I know I am not ready for that. I don't think it is something I will ever be ready for. And so, while there's no confirmation, hope brews inside me like a parasite.

This affects my family in so many ways. My dad had recently moved in with my aunty. This situation puts him, and my cousin, in a bit of a financial pickle. I've taken up work here in Christchurch - temporarily - to help out with expenses until both find new accommodation. I don't particularly like living here under the best circumstances, let alone the worst. It. Must. Be. Temporary. I'm actually very lucky to have found work so quickly, and while it is basic I like that is to do with the Earthquake, it makes me feel useful.

My family is so devastated. The last time we lost a family member she comforted me. She comforted us all. We're lost without you, Aunty. You taught me well enough to find my own way, it's just a bit harder this time without you. I'll get there eventually.

On her fridge is a little magnet that says "A mother holds her child's hand for a while, and their heart forever". Every one who knew my beautiful aunt, had their hand held by her. She guided people to where they needed to be. She propped them up when they were down. She was our family's foundations. She will now be with Nana, drinking far too much red, holding our hearts. If I could, I would thank her a million times over for everything. It's hard to sit here after you've lost someone and not feel regret. I wish I'd told her more often how important she was to me, how much I loved her, how thankful I was and how much her limitless support meant. I wish I had let her know that I was a better person for knowing her, for being in her presence, and for being partially raised by her. But instead of regret I have a knowing feeling. I know, without a doubt, how much she loved me. I think she has the same feeling in her heart, too.

I miss you aunty. I would be very happy if you rigged a special deal with your God and some how came out of this mess. All over my facebook during my travels you kept asking me to come home. It turns out I came home just for you. It would be really great if you could do the same. And don't worry, I know if it was at all possible you would. If you can't come back for me: मुक्त होना.

I'm a world away from the India I was only sinking my toes into last week. It's okay, India will be there next year and so will I :) If you read this, please send your positive vibes to me. I feel like I'm gonna need a whole lotta loving these next few days.

Take care (pleaaaaaase!) xx

ps - as I was about to click 'submit' there was a decent quake here. A nasty little reminder of all that I've lost.

The shop keeper.

India. Calcutta.

I thought near on three months in Asia would prepare me for India. I thought I was pretty much a pro traveler (minus the part where I attempt to carry my bags).

It didn't. I am not.

Once I'd left the plane and finally made it through customs (I don't recommend the visa on arrival) I was flung into a very, very foreign world.

I hadn't purchased a Lonely Planet, I didn't have any Rupees, I wasn't really sure exactly how to get to my accommodation or how far from the airport it was. I was stupidly unprepared. I asked around the international arrivals where the closet ATM was - they suggested it was at the domestic terminal, which was a 10 minute walk. I arrived only to find that the ATM was out of service. I had $50 USD that I thought might be wise to change, so I searched around the Domestic terminal to find a currency conversion stand only to no avail. On the walk back to the International terminal a member of staff commented that I must be so cold, walking around in the rain in short shorts and a t-shirt. I wasn't cold, just stupid, the subsequent attention wasn't appreciated. She suggested I try the ATM between both terminals, so I turned around and headed towards. Only to find that it was the most dodge machine in the world. The screen barely worked and it said it was processing my transaction, before randomly turning off completely. No success. Walked back to the International terminal to change my $50 into Rupees. Asked around the International terminal regarding the bus to the city centre. Of course it was back at the Domestic terminal. There were buses there, plenty, but apparently none of them were going city centre. This was becoming too much of an ordeal, so I decided to grab a taxi. One of those infamous yellow taxis. It was a prepaid taxi service which made me nervous. 420 Rupees. I'm still not sure whether that was a bargain or not, but it was certainly an adventure. My taxi driver was sweet. "Where are you from?" was closely followed by "Ah! New Zealand, very good cricket." I regret not researching cricket more. It is their passion, and New Zealand is certainly a team they hold a lot of respect for. My lack of cricket knowledge dampened the conversation.

And so we drove towards the city, slowly. 28 kms to the city centre, which should take upwards of an hour, on a good day. I met my first real traffic jam (s) here. The type where you turn the motor off and some people get up to walk around and converse. This is also where I was introduced to those stares. Not the curious, friendly, smile stares of Thailand, Vietnam, Laos or Cambodia. But instead the "what are you and why are you here stares", the ones that are rarely matched with a smile. And as we drove I saw the raw India. People walking on railway tracks, families huddled beside the roadside, cows walking the streets, food stalls made out of tarpaulin and concrete, and old men without an ounce of fat towing people, shoeless, on those old rickshaws.

This was probably when I decided I was homesick (or, rather "Bangkok or Takeo or anywhere I've been - sick"). This was when I almost regretted coming here and wish I'd had an extra thirty days at NFO my home in Cambodia. I went to check in at my hotel. I had pre-booked a dorm. The one slightly organised thing I had done. Of course, it was a male only dorm and while that was not advertised ANYWHERE on their site, there was no opportunity to budge. The single room rates were expensive, so I took my bags and decided to hunt around. A plump man found me lost, with bags in tow, and asked if I needed a hotel. I said yes, and he ushered me into a few places to see if they had vacancy. Eventually we found "Dear Hotel" which is anything but dear to me. It's a shit hole. But at 500 rupees (still expensive I think) I was happy to oblige, for at least a night. I thought this man had helped me find a hotel out of the kindness of his own heart, as people would in Thailand, but then I remembered I was in India now and he waited by the entrance with his hand out. "Tip please, Madam". I'm not really sure what an appropriate tip is, so I just handed him 20 rupees, the smallest money I had in my purse.

My room at Dear Hotel is actually shit. The bed is hard. The toilet is flushing (luxury) but some one has taken the seat off it (not that I'd particularly want to use it). The blankets are old, scruffy and rough. The pillows are made of bricks, I am sure of this. The "shower" is actually a tap beside two buckets, a smaller inside a larger. I took my first shower today and while I thought the cold running showers of SEA were bad, nothing compares to having to shovel a bucket of ice cold water on yourself. I keep reminding myself that this is probably luxury to the locals, but it is slightly depressing. The tiny little window in the room that is boarded up haunts me. I think I'd prefer if it wasn't there.

After settling in my bits in pieces I decided to wander the streets. Straight to an internet cafe in a bid to find myself more organised. I sat down and chatted to friends, feeling homesick and sorry for myself. Why did I send myself to India? What was I expecting? Why didn't it come with a warning label: CAUTION: Abrasive country. I sat for maybe 45 minutes, just aimlessly looking on the net. Maybe trying to find some where better to stay, some where more social or maybe something to entertain myself. Yellow taxis toot horns continuously, old men spit on the side of the road, everyone stares. I decided it was better to up and leave, and go find something familiar to find comfort. As I was trying to pay for my net, waiting by the counter outside, a young man greeted me. He was a store keeper. The store keeper that made India okay. Somehow he became my comfort.

I can't remember his name though, but I will be back today or tomorrow and I will ask him to write it down. He ushered me inside, to see his products. The typical ethnic store for tourists. It had saris, pants, tops, bags, dresses, notebooks, ornaments, jewelry, and photo albums, of course. Those things that look Indian, but Indians themselves probably wouldn't buy. This man was kind and welcoming, I decided to buy some pants, to perhaps fight off the frequent stares. And so he showed me the pants. "Sit sit" cleared some space for me on the floor. Two American guys were already sitting on the floor, not really looking at clothes or products, just being. He introduced myself and asked if I wanted some Chai. I felt very comfortable on the hard, store floor. I browsed the pants, settling on a nice pair of dark plum "hippy pants". The type of pants that look like they are double the size they should be. Exactly sexy enough to fight off the Indian attention. The tea arrived, and I sat browsing through tops. I decided I probably should sort out the money situation before I bought too much, so excused myself from his store, explaining I was hungry and hadn't eaten lunch yet. "Sit sit" he said. "we're about to have lunch, chicken okay?". Although I had decided to be vegetarian in India, I figured if I was offered meat and it was what my hosts were eating, I should comply, and so I did. I sat on the ground, with the storekeeper and his friend, eating out of token metal plates. Thankfully my host was kind enough to fetch a spoon for me, while they ate with their right hands. Dipping their fingers into the mix of rice and curry. So I sat a little while longer and browsed the clothes.

My store keeper asked me what my plan was for India. I was honest and told him I had no idea and that I needed to find a Lonely Planet and sort out my life. He pointed to two copies he had on the shelf. "You take" he said "you can bring back to me in a few days when you are done". I was flattered, but felt it was too much to take a book from a man I'd only just met, so instead I grabbed it and started taking photos of the pages I wanted to have with me. "Izy, don't be silly, please take with you and bring back in a few days." I sat, in his store, for maybe an hour more, reading the Lonely Planet and sipping on Chai tea, as often as my store keeper ordered it for me. He asked when my birthday was, I told him 8th feb and he snuck off for a few minutes. On his return, he had in hand a cute little bag and inside it was a beautiful anklet. It was my birthday present. I really love it :) I found a bag I liked, and a top (or dress by NZ standards!) and decided I really best leave. I asked my store keeper to show me where an ATM was. He said if I waited a few mins, he'd help me. He ordered me another little tea and I waited patiently. His friend minded the store while we walked through the busy night streets of Calcutta. My senses were smothered in bright lights, noise, car horns, the smells of spices, the crowds of people, the real hustle and bustle of India. The first ATM was broken so head lead me to another. It was about twenty minutes walk from his store and on the way he told me about his life in India and growing up. He left home at 13 and worked as a Chai seller. I told him I loved Chai and he asked me to come back to his store this week so he could tell me how to make proper Chai. I withdrew a small fortune of Rupees and we walked back to his store. I thanked him for dinner, and everything and he asked if I had time to "Sit sit and have more Chai". I was flattered, but figured if I didn't leave the store now I never would.

On my way home I saw a little local bookstore. I walked in, the man was friendly and asked my permission to suggest a book to me. He suggested three and I choose one of them: God of all the small things. I grabbed some Samosas (real! and delicious) for 6 rupees and went back to my dear hotel. I sat huddled up to the book, munching on the best indian food I've ever had (and the cheapest too!).

I fell to sleep early, I am a few hours behind Thailand and needed to adjust. This morning at six I was awoken to the loud sound of prayers. I'm not sure where it was coming from, it sounded like it was being broadcast over some speaker system in the hotel. I was too asleep to figure it out, decided it was best to just let myself fall back to sleep. A few minutes later I was awoken to someone knocking on my door screaming out something in Hindi. I'm not sure what they wanted but I was not going to open my door at that time of hour. I hoped it wasn't a fire alarm, and perhaps foolishly encouraged myself back to sleep. I woke again at 7am to the symphony of car horns outside my bedroom window. I decided that any further attempts to snooze would be futile and got dressed.

I went in search of Park street and the internet cafe advertised in Lonely Planet. It took me about an hour of walking in circles to locate it, and then I was rejected access because I didn't have my passport as ID... So I keep searching, eventually deciding to try my luck with WIFI. I wandered down a few streets and eventually came across a bit of the road where I could log on only to find out about the disaster back home in Christchurch. I felt sick to my stomach and attempted to find out all that I could while my iPod battery lasted. I eventually decided to come back with my laptop so that I could write this blog entry and check on my family. My dad is okay, I'm not sure about the rest of my family or most of my friends. My heart, prayers and well wishes are being sent in bulk to everyone in Christchurch. So I sat on the side of the road, on a little concrete slab, writing this entry. I'm not sure whether overall I love or hate India. I am glad I've come and am excited about maybe going with some Indian guys (off couchsurfing) up North for a few days. While sitting here on this little slab I have collected my own entourage of men; 6 in total. Five of them are clustered in a group and every time I look up they wave. The other is sitting in his car playing me very, very sweet India music. I have also had a crow shit literally 2 cms away from me, countless men spit and someone threw a small naan at me. No shit. I'm not sure why, or where it came from, but it landed about a meter from me and after that my entourage of five men suggested I sit closer to the store, as opposed to near the road.


The book I am reading is really beautifully written. I feel quite alone at the moment, which is good. I travel better when I am lonely enough to get curious. Today is a write off because I'm a little too sad and uneasy about all that is going on back home. I need to find an adapter so I can edit my Angkor photos and start taking some India photos.

This is a different kind of adventure to what I expected, but a good adventure no less. I think my flight into Bangkok will be a relief, but I am not going to wish away any second that I am here, because it is beautiful, albeit a little harsh.

So here I am. Seated on the concrete ground, donning my little anklet, wearing my plum temple trousers and a lilac top, sipping on Chai listening to Indian music. Here I am, indeed.

I can't begin to explain

how we disassemble the parts and frame

baby it's the same late morning
the same no show
it's the same fucking habits
i guess we don't know


<3 <3 <3 Naked and Famous - All of this.

I think sometimes people come into your life to steer you in the right direction; to set a path for you to follow. On the slow boat boarding crossing from Thailand to Laos I met a lovely lass who told me all about NFO and told me I had to come. I'd considered volunteering, it was something I really wanted to do in Asia, but I was running out of time before I had to be home for university. It was my chats with her that solidified the idea of taking another gap year and doing something I have always wanted to do.


I can't even begin to explain how amazing NFO is. My days here are so simple, but so fulfilling. We try to wake up early and go visit the Monks to chat with them. They practice their English and you can ask them anything you want to know. It turns out they are quite the flirts! Most of them are pretty open about the fact they are only monks so they can get cheap/free education.

Most days we head down to the local market which is the first really authentic market I've come across in Asia. No one speaks English. You have to haggle prices by holding up fingers. They have the most amazing deep fried bananas - they are actually to die for. This market is huge, you can get everything from laundry powder to nail polish and all kinds of fruits. I've tried a lot of new fruit since being here - a favourite is dragon fruit; it's pink on the outside and black and white on the inside. Yum. I also ate something that resembled a baby coconut which was a bit too weird for my liking. Oh and jackfruit! It's a giant fruit that tastes like candy. It actually tastes like candy; it is insane.

A few minutes from the market is this store called Cool Mart - it is a pretty standard petrol station store, but it is the only place we've found in Takeo that stocks yoghurt, so usually we go in and buy their entire batch of plain dutch yoghurt. After about 10:30am it gets difficult to walk around in the heat, so we'll usually drop by the house before heading up for the 12:00pm class. Natalie and Jess, two girls I met on the overnight bus from Laos to Vietnam are actually teachers back home in England. They've been assigned two classes while they're here and I've taken the liberty of being their teacher's aid.

Hidden in the arts supply room were heaps of resources that the girls are making the most of using, including giving the kids their own personal mini whiteboards! We're quite early on in their lessons and at the moment just trying to gauge the level of the kids. It's really different being inside a Cambodian class room. The kids want to be there. In fact we're constantly having to turn away kids who are not allocated in the class. They raise their hand (most of the time) and stand to give the answers. The difference in the past two days is already noticeable. We're really focusing on giving the kids a lot of positive reinforcement, because you can tell that some of them have not really had many positive things in their lives prior.

After the first class I generally hang about with the kids a little bit before we head back to the house to hide from the sun. The heat is so intense here, by 1pm I'm really exhausted, even though I've not done that much with my day. The girls found the most amazing ice coffee place that sells them for only 1000 reil which is about 25 cents. They're pretty much a glass filled with ice and half of condensed milk and the other half of coffee. I know it sounds gross, and it's not something I'd think to do at home, but it's amazing (at least by asian standards!). We usually just chill on the balcony for a few hours hiding from the bugs and the sun.

At about 3pm we start heading back for the second class of the day. This is the class who is struggling a bit more with English and having a 3:45pm class does not help with their progress. Today we had to go back to basics, right back to the alphabet. There's a little lad named Tee, he's only been at the orphanage 6 months and he's tiny. He's the type of boy who only does things when he wants to and he'll outright ignore you when you try to speak to him. He might approach you if he wants to, but it's unlikely. Today during class he chose to sat right next to me and leaned against me during the lessons. He was doing really well naming the alphabet when Jess was pointing to the letters so I encouraged him to answer one of her questions. He put his hand up, waited patiently, when selected stood upright and exclaimed the correct answers. It was such a cool thing to see. Natalie treated him to a sticker and he placed it on my forehead. From that moment on, we were best buds. When he was later awarded another sticker and he chose to stick it on his forehead, we were twins.



We had to go collect six stones for alphabet bingo outside. I asked him if he wanted me to help and he nodded at me. So we rushed outside together and hunted for stones. Through alphabet bingo he'd prod me on the arm and ask whether he had the letter being called out. I encouraged him to hunt for it but helped him when I could see he was getting bored. He did very well. It was such a huge improvement for the little lad who didn't even want to make eye contact. I can't wait to see how things are tomorrow. All three of us had little knots in our tummy watching him come out of his shell. It was really special and I think it's been a little tap on the shoulder to let me know, yes I could be a good teacher, and yes I'd find it really genuinely rewarding. Cool feeling :-)

After class we usually drag ourselves home and once again nest ourselves into the chairs on the deck. In the afternoon NFO becomes really social when everyone heads back in. We've got about 15 people here at the moment which means there's always someone to chat to :-) A group of 11 or so of us are planning a trip away to the beaches this weekend - I can't wait!

Life is good. I'm in my element! This is something I've wanted to do forever, and I'm doing it. I am loving it :)

It's amazing how badass your life can be when you stop making excuses and do what you want to do. So simple. Wish I'd figured it out sooner.

It's a little too good.

I've been thinking all day about how I'm going to write this post. I've been aching to write something more about Phnom Penh but I'm hesitant because I don't want it to be too showy. I don't want it to be too happy. I know not everyone is as lucky (and ridiculous) as I am, and many people don't have the luxury of this much time to travel. But I can't let that take away from the fact I am on, without a doubt, the most amazing adventure of my lifetime.

I've been so lazy here in Phnom Penh. Today I woke up at 12pm. In all fairness I don't have any time telling devices since I lost my iPod and left the lads. The room was pitch black, I had no chance! So, I didn't do the killing fields today. I think it's really important I do see them before I go to the orphanage. I think it'll give me even more perspective and understanding of the Khmer regime.

I must say this without sounding up myself or arrogant. I would describe myself as of average attractiveness in New Zealand. I do okay, and that's fine by me. But here in Asia, most specifically Cambodia, I am a novelty. When I walk down a street, almost every single guy who notices me will follow me with his eyes as long as he can. Most of them will call out something to get my attention, I just smile and say hello and keep on my merry way. It's very flattering, and it makes me blush. I end up just walking around with a constant smile on my face and acknowledge every single person my path crosses. It makes my tummy nervous in a good way.

Today I went on a little adventure. I finally checked out the Russian markets and bought two pairs of Ray Bans - one red, one black. I spent a few hours wandering around the surrounding side streets, trying to find stores that weren't in English. After making my way to the mall I grabbed a pottle of clear nail polish and a frozen yoghurt. The heat was exhausting and I decided to head home. I walked past an electronics store that was blasting dance music loudly. I saw a bunch of kids dancing so I asked their parents if I could film in some awkward sign language fashion. I showed the kids and the parents the footage and they all burst out into jolly giggles. It was really sweet. I think it was at this point of the day my mouth started to hurt from smiling too much.

On the way home I saw a bunch of young boys playing soccer on a tiny piece of grass nestled in the middle of a busy intersection. I decided to set up base there for a while, and just sat down on the edge of the field watching them. Their ball rushed towards me. Before it went off the edge onto the busy road, I picked it up and threw it back to the kid who was bouncing with the most enthusiasm. From that moment on I was one of the boys. I decided to take some photos of them playing soccer, just casually, sitting down on the ground. I decided specifically not to move, I didn't want to impose on their game. I only had my 85mm with me. Initially I regretted it, and cursed myself for not buying a 24-70. There is something very special about the 85mm lens, and it captured things more beautifully than I could have hoped for.





One of the little boys noticed me taking photos and came over. He started to casually perform for me. I'm not sure he wanted me to know that it was his intention, but it was a little obvious. I think he was showing off. He just spent a solid 10 minutes doing hand stands in front of me. I took lots of photos, and he kept looking over to make sure I was. I ushered him over to look at the photos, he cracked up laughing, then I turned my camera on him and caught the most beautiful laugh/smile I've ever seen.







While I was sitting on the grass on the edge of the road a little walked past with her baby. The little girl was absolutely adorable, I just instinctively reached for my camera, pointed up and hoped for the best. There was no changing settings, no consideration and I absolutely adore the result:




I saw there was a photo processing store across the road, so decided to try to get some of the photos printed for the kids. Unfortunately I had shot all the photos only in RAW format and the store only had old photoshop so there was no way I could edit them on the spot. A bit of a shame. I decided to continue my journey home, making a quick stop in my local stationary store to buy more ridiculously cheap goodies.

I walked a little further and was drawn to this little girl and her dad. They'd just gotten out of a Tuk Tuk and the dad was encouraging the girl to wave at her driver. I am not sure why I stopped and questioned with only hand movements whether I could take a photo. I'm happy I did though, I feel like I really caught a moment between a doting dad and a lovely lass. After I'd taken the photo I showed him and he asked for my email address to get a copy. He was actually amazed with the photo and it was such a great feeling.





I dumped all my baggage at my hotel and then decided to grab some dinner to eat. I've found a local street food restaurant that does amazing fried rice for around $1. It's the second time I've been there. I like it mostly because the menu doesn't have a word of English. The chef doesn't speak English. Thankfully he's got a younger member of staff who speaks better English than I do. This restaurant serves complimentary green tea. When you sit down you get a cup filled almost entirely with ice. There are jugs of warm green tea on the table, you pour it in and the ice melts almost instantly, resulting in a really nice temperature iced tea! It's delicious. Both times I've been I've had two cups and only stopped there because I didn't want to be too greedy. I tipped them, again, as much as the meal cost. I can't begin to describe the genuine appreciation the waitstaff showed for a dollar tip. It really puts things into perspective.

I came home and sat up all cozy in the common area pretending to read some Vietnamese magazine. The sound of drums was pouring in through the open balcony, from what I assume was another wedding celebration. There's been one every night or the same one every night. Sometimes it's hard to believe this is my life. I don't think I'm used to being this happy, this content. My life is really simple: no obligations, no drama, no restrictions. I'm trying to figure out how to capture exactly how I feel; I want to lock it in a little jar, so that the next time I'm restricted or stuck in a rut, I can unscrew the lid and breathe this magic in.

I'm madly and deeply in love with my life. There's so many things I miss, so many places I miss; but I think you're lucky when you miss things. It means you've had something really special that's worth remembering : )

India. I've always wanted to go, but I've always considered it something too dangerous to do by myself. There's this saying I adopted when I couldn't decide whether I should go to Thailand. Whether I had permission from the fun police to go. It was the only thing that gave me any clarity; "Why not?" closely followed by "What better time then now?"

We'll see. I've decided I might postpone the orphanage one more day! I wanna make the most of Phnom Penh. I'm not sure why specifically but I am very smitten with this dirty, busy city and it's beautifu,l smiley people. Very smitten indeed.

Forgive me for this mushy, sickly post, but it had to be said.

Much love xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

ps. This song is rocking my pants off at the moment http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHC8vuBU9rg&NR=1