...Cambodia Calling 2

So I'm sick. Booooo. I don't like being sick in England and over here it's worse because it's so hot. It like amplifies the sick feeling and shoves it down your throat till all you can taste is your illness. Nice analogy right? But I've pumped myself full of paracetamol, green tea with honey and hot lemon with honey - minus the whiskey. I didn't trust what was on offer in the shops. You could get a whole bottle of "whiskey" for $4.30, like a big bottle. I don't think what was inside was whiskey. I didn't want to hang about to find out. So yeah that's what happening at the moment. Ange, my "boss" told me to go home yesterday and not come back till Monday. I was shocked. I thought, "mate I only have a cold, it's not like I'm dying" and you know I told her so (not in those exact words) but she insisted I rest myself and come back when I'm better. You'd never get that sort of thing in London. Or in the Western world. We have to work even if we feel like our face is melting and all our internal organs are seizing up. It's that fear of missing something, anything. It's a totally absurd notion though, you can't physical work if you are sick, it's not possible and you risk the chance of infecting everyone else so they can't work either and then before you know it the whole company is caught under flu's deadly grasp and everything goes tits up from there. Dramatic I know but it's true. The way of thinking out here is so relaxed and logical. If you're tired - sleep, if you're hungry - eat, if you're sick - stay in bed, don't work. Makes perfect sense so after writing this blog it is exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to rest.

Enough about me being sick. I'm sick of being sick. Instead I'm going to talk about something else. 

So Ange my "boss" has told me she wants me to teach the older kids as well as the younger kids, because I'm a native English speaker. Luckily for her she didn't have the chance to hear my accent before the elocution lessons! Hahahaha! She wouldn't want me anywhere near her kids then. I'll try my best to not slip in a bit of cockney but if it happens then it happens! I'm looking forward to teaching the older kids, they have a good grasp of English already and I know I'll just be helping it along, whereas the little ones don't have any English at all and it's learning through play so I'll be talking constantly. It is going to be exhausting! Hopefully it will be fun too. Fingers crossed.

These mossies are fucking deadly, they are using me like a buffet, I swear to God when I find the one that's in my room, using me like I'm a midnight snack I will kill it. Slowly. I'll pull of it's fucking wings and show it to it. HA! Bite me while I sleep? You must be brave.
Call me Rachel McKenzie, mossie killer extraordinaire. I think the heats gotten to me...

So there's not much more to say really. I hand washed my clothes yesterday, it took me like half an hour but I saved myself a dollar. I know it doesn't sound like much but a dollar out here goes a long fucking way. And they smell all fresh and clean, I'm very proud of myself. I did scrub the shit out of them though - not actually shit, that would be disgusting, just you know I went at them hard...

I've been thinking about contacting the Man but I'm not sure. One source has said NO. To not let anything taint this experience which is true. This experience is for me and you know I want to make it the best experience I've ever had, but I really, really, miss him. *sigh* I guess that's normal. Not much to be done about it and I should stop brooding and buck up damn it. Any other suggestions of what I should do would be handy, I know he doesn't read this so no harm in him seeing it but if you could, answers on a postcard please, you know where to find me. 

I might upload some pictures to facebook but I'm not sure yet. Don't know if I can be bothered right now and may just do it all when I get home, in one big lump session. We will see. 


Big Ocean crossing love ya'll.