Appreciation

Photos: Cambodia: Kampot, Kep & Rabbit Island

• Saturday, Dec 4: Started recovering in Kampot, ate very plain fare, took two short walks that exhausted me; read my book, listened to iPod, e-mailed and napped.
• Sunday, Dec 5: Continued recovering; rented a bicycle and meandered slowly around Kampot; continued with simple foods and apple juice; felt very drained and sad, but attributed this to antibiotics; took a second bicycle ride and tried to figure out what I wanted to do in the coming days; very low energy but no more being sick.
• Monday, Dec 6: Took afternoon bus to Kep, just a forty-five minute bus-ride away from Kampot; met a couple, guy from Austria, girl from Norway, and we decided to search for a guest house together; after three places, we settled on Cham Kep, which faced the west and was on the coast; I wandered a bit on my own in the evening; went to crab market, which is a row of small shack restaurants specializing in crab; enjoyed relaxing in a hammock and watching the sun set; slept well. Finished antibiotics.
• Tuesday, Dec 7: Took a thirty minute boat from Kep to Rabbit Island; paradise; spent the day reading, napping, swimming and sunning. Very quiet island paradise with palms, blue waters and bungalows with simple toilets; had dinner with the same couple, but otherwise relaxed on  my own.

My appetite and energy have returned, although I’m still a bit nervous when I eat. I’ve got a bit of a sun burn on my face and shoulders. I’m sandy even when I do my best to towel off. And I am loving every minute of being on Rabbit Island.

Last night, the generator turned on around 7pm, when it got dark. At 9:30pm, it shut off, and then the island was quiet, besides the insects and the waves. I slept quite peacefully, with the constant light breeze creeping through the gaps of my rustic bungalow and keeping me cool. Right now I’m relaxing in front of my $7/night bungalow, on it’s small porch, where a hammock supports me and swings each time I shift. I can look out and see the blue sky with thing wisps of cloud; palm trees by the dozens, soaring into that sky; the gorgeous blue water rippling in the wind; bamboo platforms scattered all around, with lazy sunbathers snoozing, reading or pondering the sea lying on top; boats at anchor; and the wandering island-dweller, doing chores or scattering the roaming chickens, dogs or cats.

Today I traded in my book (“Hawaii” by Michener, I recommend it!) at one of the bars for a book on Angkor, which I will see in several days. I also wandered around the island for about two hours, following paths that looked not often used, and sometimes wondering if I was on a path at all. I got to see all sides of the island: rocky beaches, mangroves, muddy waters, clear waters, villages of the island community, abandoned boats. In some waters were row upon row of clear plastic water bottles, bobbing on the waters in a pattern indicating some kind of fish farm or net.

Today I’ve been thinking a bit about how lucky I am to have the friends and family that I do. It’s odd, considering I haven’t been with any friends or family for over a month now. When I was sick, though, I managed to Skype with my parents twice each day for three full days, and that was such a comfort and a help when I was feeling so terrible. E-mailing with friends also helped, and getting to read about their goings-on and daily lives was a way for me to escape my own hot, uncomfortable days.

There are times when I silently berate myself for being so dependent on others. Shouldn’t I be completely independent, able to support myself through good times and bad, toughing out the loneliness and enjoying the high points all by myself?

The thing is, I decided today, I should count myself incredibly lucky and instead of berating myself, I should be congratulating myself. How fortunate I am to have such a great family, such caring and communicative friends, and how awesome is it that technology allows me to pipe them into my life? Far from being dependent on other people, I think today that my independence shows itself most strongly when I am able to share it with others in my life. And if sometimes I ease my difficult times by sharing my thoughts and frustrations with them, then that’s also perfectly all right: it’s the kind of person I am, that I can enjoy more fully and suffer less intensely when I can chat it out with others.

So, thank you to you all, for letting me tell you all the details of my daily life on my travels, both trivial and momentous, ugly and beautiful. I can’t tell you how much it helps me experience things in different and meaningful ways, and how it makes me feel like loneliness is impossible, with a world full of people like you.

--Z