Madagascar - Photos to come when laptops are a thing.

Despite being at full capacity, when the courts decided to send 17 new girls the doors were open wide - wide enough to fit 17 mattresses through, as the living room gave way to the new dorm room conversion. This is a perfect example of the welcoming family atmosphere at Iris Madagascar. Eager to get involved, Maria and I baked banana cake for everyone at the welcome party. With her 100% baking success rate and my 100% baking failure rate, I can confidently conclude that all of our baking complications were entirely her fault. No one's perfect.

The base is now home to 103 children, ranging from the ages of four months to eighteen years. On top of this the centre also provides:

- A lunch program for around 200 local children three times a week.

- A weekly milk feeding program for new mothers.

- A community program giving out rice and funding for education to struggling families.      

-A ministry to the children living at the rubbish dump, complete with doctor and medical assistant.

All of this whilst running one of the most successful home school programs this side of Ferris Beuller. 

When striving to meet every physical need in the area by all means humanly possible isn't enough, faith steps in to bridge the gap. Just the week before I arrived, a blind woman and her son came to the centre looking for medical care. With the doctor away, Julio offered an even better solution - prayer for complete healing. She left with fully restored vision and a grin on her face, enjoying the beauty of a son she hadn't laid eyes on in years. Miracles happen. 

For the last ten days of my stay I abandoned the visitor's centre. The guard's loyal pet rooster manned the gate, whilst he fashioned my suitcase as a hat up the hill to Caroline's house - I guess wheeled bags aren't in this season. 

Life with Caroline and her two year old daughter Esti is how I imagine the existence of an off-duty Disney princess. Even in the power cuts when the storm 'raged on' the musical show did not falter. And to think, I hadn't even seen Frozen before I lived the sound track that week. 

Keeping the balance in my sanity was her 13 year old son Andry. His schooling in the ways of Dragonball - Z enabled the student to briefly become the master in the realms of PlayStation on my final night. (I beat him once).

Throughout my time in Madagascar I had the honour of tutoring 17 year old Sarobidy. This kid is incredible. For the first few days we followed the course of his school books, spending our afternoons pausing and puzzling over trivial grammar points. I apologised on behalf of the rebellious nature of the rule defiant English language, before requesting that we diverge from the book in favour of more engaging methods. He agreed. The afternoon that followed was probably the highlight of my trip. That's right - conversation that ranks higher than a selfie with a lemur. Through basic English, doodles and charades I told him a story from my life, challenging him to repeat the tale to practice the new language, such as 'fear', 'cow' and 'crash'. My part over, it was time for him to take centre stage. The following hours were spent in laughter, understanding and borderline tears on my part as he shared accounts of his childhood with me. Whether what he told me that day was true or false I neither know nor care - this kid is an inspiration and a constant reminder that there's a plan at work in all of our lives. 

This is just one example of the 103 awe inspiring children on that base! I had so much fun playing with them each day, I love every single one of them!

Before I went to Madagascar the only insight I had lead me to anticipate an island run by musical lemurs and militarised penguins. And that's exactly what I found.

Joking aside, Madagascar rarely makes our news in the west, but the truth is that horrendous cases of organ trafficking is on the rise. During my time there six children were taken from a local school, tragically their bodies were found a few days later - organs removed. The threats drew closer to home when an desperate and enraged woman from the surrounding village burst into the centre, screaming at the children and threatening to come back for their hearts that night. She was dragged to the village chief and taken away, not before hurling more abuse and even biting Caroline. 

As is to be expected, emotions were high after this. When rumours of more threats reached the base the next day everyone was quick to react. I was on my way back from the girl's house when Andry came flying down the hill past me, a huge kitchen knife in his hand. I shouted him over, making some idol quip about running with scissors - he let the awkwardness slide and blurted out a panicked report of a planned attack the boys centre before running off to find his mum. Within minutes we were busy moving and carrying all 103 children across the village to the safety of the missionary's houses. 

Fortunately nothing came of the new threats, and the village chief agreed to have police walk by the centre at intervals that night. When it comes to the lives of these kids every precaution is worth taking. Unfortunately security costs money and extra guards are a further expense, but we have faith in a greater  protection.

Nothing can break the spirits here and my send off was one fit for a PHD. Best goodbye EVER!! Thank you Iris Madagascar, I miss you! 

The Force is strong in this one - Matola Rio, Mozambique.

Motion, being in motion. An object in motion will stay in motion - unless there is a force strong enough to stop it. Matola Rio? The force is strong in this one.
In fact, aside from Download Festival, which unfortunately does not offer permanent residency, I'm not sure I've ever felt more compelled to stop 'being in motion.'


From the moment I arrived I was made to feel like part of the family. Before I was even out of the car I was taken by the hand and brought to join the action. Introductions, games and several new abstract hairstyles later, I joined them for dinner. Kids grow up fast here, and they had nailed the meal time procedure. Within moments plastic chairs and tables filled the yard and the singing commenced, as they sat down to eat together. 


From the very beginning I was amazed and inspired by these kids. In the evening worship they prayed into their own situation, asking God to protect and heal them from the many diseases in the room. If there's one thing I will take away from this week, it's that if God healed the lepers, he can cure HIV. 
So much happened in this one week that I feel like I was there for at least three. Culture shock was not an issue, I love their relaxed approach to life. As in many countries, the roads have a culture all of their own. They hold no boundaries, quite literally, 'sidewalks' are any man's land. Where to ride? There's no limitations, front seat, back seat, boot, grandma's lap, take your pick. And why choose one? As our mini bus pulled up to the toll booth, Natasha joked that Joao was a terrible passenger driver, so he simply slid open the door and swung around the outside and into the seats behind us, reclining with a smile across his face. Not an eyelid batted nor eyebrow raised.

I was asked to teach an English lesson to the older boys, and so we met in the church hall after dinner one night. Lacking in everything but benches and paper, this is certainly thousands of miles from the privileges of Pangbourne College. And yet, we had just as much fun playing games and hanging out together.

I have discovered it to be universally true, that C + T(X) = S. By which I mean, hand a gathering of teenagers your camera and it will inevitably result in selfies. Many, many selfies. 
Little ones. They're a whole different species. But as you may recall from my experiences in 'Nam, they're not as intimidating as one first expects. Although, football makes for a challenging ordeal, apparently taking the ball from one triggers their inbuilt facial sprinkler system... Avoid this at all costs, the off switch is as clear as Swedish flat pack.
That said, I love them all. They're amazing kids who find fun in everything from an old tin can to a ripped trampoline.

It's been interesting trying to build relationships on minimal mutual language. Practical things, like card games and football go a long way. I'm yet to mention Corrie and Helenia, I could probably write an entire book of appreciation and admiration for these two, but I'll spare you the brain space and instead direct you to the website I've been working on, if you're interested in their story.
I have a feeling this won't be my only visit to Matola Rio, but as a wise Jedi master once said 'Difficult to see. Always in motion is the future...'

My Day with The Doctor

Despite my early morning efforts, a lack of piracy skills unfortunately rendered me unable to watch ‘The Day of The Doctor’ bright and early as planned. In order to compensate somewhat for this, and enable me to manage my grief, I decided to spend my very own ‘Day with The Doctor’.

Feeling the weight of my disappointment, I returned to bed, hoping to re-start the day with a little more success.

We awoke on Sunday the 24^th of November, planet Hanoi of the Vietnam System, kick starting the day the only way I knew how – a quick visit to the smoothie lady. Had I known what events were to follow, I may have selected a slightly stronger poison.

Fruity goodness consumed, we proceeded to school, with the intention of shaping a few young Vietnamese minds. The legends of The Time Lords is a topic often neglected in these parts.

Looking back now, I can see that the signs were there. I try to excuse myself on the grounds that the morning’s disappointment had blunted my vigilance, but no matter the excuse, no matter the perspective, I myself, am partly to blame.

They came in the night, they hid in the water . Innocently seeking hydration the children were taken, consumed by the alien life forms and left as no more than  than mindless shells, vessels for the purpose of evil. An unstoppable force.

Before we had realised what had happened, the Doctor was captured. Terrorised and mauled by these conscienceless creatures. Fortunately, using an  infallible combination of wit, charm and a sonic screw driver in a way only The Doctor can, he managed to escape their grasp.

We retired to lunch to regroup and consider our options.

Despite our superior combination of converse and quick wit, we knew this was a battle we could not fight alone. The enemy was too strong, the risks were too high. We were left with only one option; it was time to rally the troops.

He spoke with elegance and urgency. His words opened our eyes to the truth, we saw that cowardice was not an option. All were aware of the risks we were to face that day, victory was essential, to fail would be to lose everything. The fate of Hanoi had fallen on our shoulders.

A peaceful resolution was our aim, violence is never in the Doctor’s nature. The plan was a little hazy – ‘dehydration guns!’ he’d exclaimed… the rest I assumed we’d piece together along the way.

The time came and we prepared for battle.

Guns in hand we stormed the school gates, then divided to take the enemy from all sides. The numbers were against us, the opposition was confident, but there was one thing they hadn't considered…

We had the Doctor.

Victory was a distant destination. One by one we sucked the hydro-bound creatures from the students, rendering them limp and lifeless on the floor. As we took on the masses, The Doctor went straight for the source. Destroying their leader with one fateful flush.

Victory secured, we turned our attention to the children, restoring them with a single sip of water.

The day was long, the battle was hard – finally it was time to go home, grab a cuppa, perch on the edge of my undersized plastic stool and watch The Day of The Doctor.

Wee wooooo wee woo woooo…..

I am the quiz master

I figured we might be due a little up date. 

Here's a bunch of adorable little faces to kick start the action (I of course include myself in that summary)...

 

 

Fun fact: the word 'tim' in Vietnamese means heart <3 

- HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIMOTHY GEORGE WALKER.

No prizes for guessing my favourite student in this motley crew. 

As a teenager I often claimed the excuse that it was not my fault but that a certain teacher simply 'did not like me', clinging to an underlying belief that in actual fact teachers were bound to some secret oath to regard each student equally. In reality I have come to realise that this is definitely not the case. I hate kids.

That's obviously a joke. I only hate a select few.

I'm not sure if I'm still joking or not...

Anyway, the answer is middle, back row. The one making a fist. Goes by the name 'factory'. We often begin the morning by comparing muscles and monster impressions. Who needs language, eh?

Speaking of being lost in translation, as you know I recently moved into my house which is situated by a delightful small-medium sized body of water. (Without further research into the regulations, I am hesitant to categorise it as either a pond or lake). Either way, its wet and there's fish. There's a fair few eateries around said wet-area, I am making it my aim to visit each one. However I've realised that my grasp of the Vietnamese language is not quite what I thought it was and with one slightly misguided intonation I managed to order what appeared to be snail soup as opposed to the beef which I had intended! As Timone and Pumba once said, 'slimy, yet satisfying!' 

I think I'm going to try dog. Just putting that out there.

There's also a 'Bia Hoi' (specialises in home brewed beer for around 20p a glass) approximately 100 metres from my house, I promise this had no influence what so ever over my choice of living arrangements ;). Last night I headed home early from our weekly teacher's drink as I wasn't feeling too good. Feeling slightly hungry on route I stopped at said Bia Hoi for a bite to eat. I was tired and confused by the menu, this must have been evident on my face as I was invited to join 3 business men at their table for a meal. Ordering for me, I was soon presented with an entire boiled chicken (head and feet included) and some fish on skewers. The fish were literally that, tiny cooked fish with a skewer affectionately driven down their throats. Teeth and eyes still in place. Tasted great! They went on to inform me that the fish were incredibly fresh, pointing to a large tank behind them. Doesn't get much fresher than that! Conversation was interesting and mostly focussed on the declining shipping trade of Vietnam, along with the recent death of a Vietnamese military general? Should probably look into that. 

 

 

Teachers out for the weekly drink at 'Dog Meat' - boasting dog served in seven different ways. Don't worry, we don't eat here, just drink whilst some pet their rather ironic pet dog.

Sunday is the new Friday.

 

 

 

No idea why this picture is horizontal. Let's just roll with it. 

As I mentioned in my last email, (I think) the rain here is pretty awesome. And with a combination of my love of walks in the rain and the park across the street from me, we spent a great Monday afternoon in Hanoi. 

 

 

The women's museum is the most interesting place I've visited in the city thus far, in contrast to getting a pedicure (when in Rome) which is definitely not my thing. Hopefully going to visit the prison tomorrow, which should be another eye opening ordeal. Night time roller blading in the park is on the agenda for tonight, In my head I'm going to be as elegant and professional as I believed I was as a seven year old. In reality, I'm not entirely sure my health insurance covers such extreme sports?

After visiting the pub quiz two weeks ago we befriended the owner 'Jez', A fifty year old rocker from Manchester, depressingly the person I've met that I have the most in common with in Hanoi. Me and Olivia will be running the quiz tomorrow evening, with the wage of free food and drink all night. I've promised to rein in the Dr Who focus with a broader 'scfi' round. Should be fun. The pub itself feels a lot like stepping back into the West from the chaotic streets of Nam. Its one of the many places where the midnight curfew is overlooked by bribing the policemen who instead of closing the place down, often join us for a drink!

Anyway, I fear I've rambled for too long as I'm now sat in the dark on my roof terrace. I'm off for another food finding adventure before my skating come back.

It was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

A quick update from 'Nam :) After nearly three weeks in the trenches ('Friendly Backpacker's Hostel') I have just this very morning moved into my own house. 'Is this the house in the pictures below?' I hear you ask, why yes, yes it is. Feast your eyes for visual nourishment upon these delightful scenes...

 

 

 

 

 

The roof is my favourite :) My room is your generic, white room with nice big wardrobe and en-suite. So excited to finally be saying GOODBYE SUITCASE!! Living at the hostel was fun and I met some pretty cool people, but as most people just stay one or two nights it was pretty difficult to feel as though I was really settling in. There are two other rooms in the house, one is currently taken by a man from Denmark whom I am yet to meet, all I have seen so far are his ridiculously huge shoes. With an average height of 150 cm over here this guy must feel like a giant amongst men! Wonder how he'd take to being called Hagrid? Aaaanyway, he moves out on the 1st and then I just await the arrival of 'mystery guests'. - last two words to be read in the voice of an enthusiastic 90's game show host, ideally Roy Walker.

My landlady is awesome. Grandma and Granddad living right next door. Their grandson often bridges the waves of translation, but when he's not around, me and Granny amuse our selves with miming, pointing and laughter.

So far between work and sorting living arrangements I haven't had a great deal of time for exploring. I went to Tam Coc last week, took a boat ride down the river before cycling through the village. Also, visited the ancient capital of Hanoi on route.

Teaching is fun, not sure how much longer I'll enjoy it for though. Nursery children are terrifying. Although, my favourite class is made up of 7 horrendously behaved 4 year old boys and 1 cryer. The wuss can't even handle losing a game of musical bumps! Don't worry though, I'll toughen him up in no time. I tend to amuse myself by winding them up and watching them go whilst the teaching assistants run round in despair. It took us a whole 2 hours to learn the colour 'brown', and I can honestly say that has no negative reflection on my teaching skills!

I guess the thing that stands out the most in city life here is the roads. 95% of people have motor bikes and from what I can gather very few of them have licences. As I am clearly to cool to engage in this cultural phenomenon I myself have invested in a good old fashioned bicycle, pictured below. Just kidding. About the picture I mean, the bicycle bit is true. It might not have gears and the seat may well be made of solid rock, but my gosh does it have one fashionable basket! ;) 

 

 

So yeah, bikes are a pretty central part of life here and you pretty much see everything from wardrobes and trees to families of five on the back of them. 

 

 

Not forgetting the goldfish!

In the beginning...

I've recently come to the realisation that I worry too much about the future. To the extent that I barely noticed that in the reality of the here and now, I've moved to Viet Nam.

 I mean, of course I made the decision and I took action to get here, but in a way it feels more like the decision was out of my hands, I just followed the inevitable unravelling of events.I keep thinking back over the past year trying to pin point how or why I ended up here. I have no idea. Maybe I just didn’t want to become one of those people who say they have all of these ‘dreams’ and goals, but never actually do anything about it.  Maybe I’m that scared of getting stuck in another dead end job that I just didn’t want to stop moving long enough to be sucked in. The frustration of being painfully aware of each second that passes, as you’re stuck on a loop serving the same customer, marginally different weight problem. ‘Would you like to go large, sir?’ Of course you would. Soul destroying.

 Somehow all of this stemmed from that post university depression that most students get. The moment when reality hits and you realise we’re in a recession, most people have a degree anyway and you’re heading straight back to that same job you hated in college. You know the one, the one that motivated you to try and better yourself and go to university in the first place? Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with these jobs, some people love them. They come with a certain freedom in being able to go home at the end of the day and genuinely escape. We'll come back to this I'm sure. But for now, a brief rambling written in my first few days in 'Nam...

Day one, I’m at lunch in a Chinese restaurant, first day induction at work to follow, when some Vietnamese guy comes and sits with me. ‘Are you from England?’ ‘Yes, yes I am.’ Turns out the guy spent 5 years studying in Manchester, and now here I am in his city. Small world cliché. After some small talk he offers to show me around the city, we exchange numbers and he returns back to his banker’s dinner date. Work induction was nothing worth noting, just paper signing, everyone seems lovely. Anyway, later that evening I get a text from lunch guy asking if I want to go for dinner and drinks the following night. Being concerned that this sounded a lot like a date, I did what most girls would do, confer with my on-call consulting team. Feedback: 95% probability that this is intended to be a date. Despite this (and with the standard stranger safety warnings) they advised me to go and just make it clear that to me, it was not a date. So with the ‘you’re in a new country, no harm in meeting new people’ attitude I decided to go.

Day two, mission: open a bank account. Definitely took longer than intended. Spent most of the day walking around in search of food as my lack of Vietnamese makes interaction challenging.I eventually admitted defeat at around 4pm and went into a café to get a drink. Obviously, same communication difficulties apply so I went for the point and hope technique. Damn lactose intolerance. This tea was not to be tolerated. Found myself faced with quite the moral dilemma. For the record, you can’t drink around the milk. Ready to give up on life, I got a motorbike taxi and headed to the bank. Best decision ever. Buying a motor bike will be my midlife crisis. Bank account successfully opened, followed by one more motorbike ride and the day is looking up. 

It definitely was a date. Oops. Started out with a traditional northern Vietnamese meal and sufficient mocking of my chopstick skills, then after a few drinks in this pub we moved to a club. My first Asian clubbing experience. You know the theory that if you keep trying beer you’ll eventually like it? 5^th September 2013 – the day the prophecy came to be. Apparently most people aren't too fond of Vietnamese beer, for the equivalent of £1.30, I'm a fan.

Oh yeah, and I moved into a shared dorm today. So far, not so much sharing. Well, apart from the ant population in the bathroom that is.

Day three. So yesterday ended up being pretty expensive, I’m considering giving up drinking in order to conserve funds. Bold move, I know. But it’s a definite money drainer and I’d rather be able to afford trips and such. Wonder how long this will last?

Observed my first class today, ‘kindy’ (little kids) level. They’re adorable. This is going to be hilarious. When showing the kids a picture of a boy on a bike in their books, Collette (teacher) said ‘Now we’re going to listen to what he says’ one kid held the book to his ear and looked confused. Like I said, adorable.

Dorm became more shared as a girl from America and another from China joined me.

Day 4, Sunday. Attempted to go to church, got lost and gave up. Got so stressed out in the heat that every taxi guy on a motor bike that yelled ‘motorbike?’ I took to mean ‘hey, white girl, you are obviously lost/need help/are naive and scam-able – come here!’ and so was met with scowl. To be fair, it usually is what they mean. Anyway, after that failure I gave up and headed back to the room.

More lesson observations in the afternoon, the rain on route was awesome! Bikes riding through knee deep floods, roads closed, people walking bare foot because the odds of shoe survival were slim to none… and the best thing about it all was that come 6pm, the city was back to its usual humid, smoggy self. Not a drowned dog in sight.

Sunday is the new Friday. After a work filled weekend (for them) we headed across the road for drinks. Chilling on plastic chairs with a 30 pence pint in the street? There’s definitely a thing or two we could learn from these pros. Safe to say, my no drinking plan lasted less than 48 hours, anyone surprised?

Day 5, viewed my first house. Loved it. Only problem is it’s an hour and a half walk from work. The agent was trying to convince me to hire a moped from her to travel on! Price for the house started at $400 per month, has just dropped to $180, and I'm pretty sure she’d throw her grandma in if she thought It’d sweeten the deal.

I promise my next entry will be more coherent.