Sarah

My toes has lost almost all their skin, the knees has turned into fifty shades of blue and purple while my nose is steadily turning more and more red (getting redder by the minute (is redder a word? It definetly should)) every day. Short said: I am enjoying the life here at Lamai, Koh Samui, Thailand.

 

It didn't start out too good with a sore throat already after first training. The second training sent me straight to bed feeling feverish and a running nose, making breathing a little bit more of a challenge than it normally is. I missed out on one training and probably should have missed out my third one, but after some very interesting (and some might call it doubtful) throat massage and Thai pills (might have been even more doubtful since I have absolutely no idea what they are) I am now slowly starting to get better.

 

 

Sundays are the only days that are free from training and I decided together with my new Indian friend to go for some sightseeing. We went to see Big Buddha, this islands biggest landmark both figure and literally speaking with its twelwe meter high statue painted in gold. After that we stopped for some oyster brunch (definetly one of the more interesting meals I have had in my life) and I finally had my first thaibeer. Singha. Nam nam. The journey continues and we start laughing at (what we thought to be a plastic) buffalo, until it starts moving against us and we zoom off. Before going home we decide to go to a waterfall but end up riding elephants. Not only sitting on their backs while someone is "driving" no. I got to r-i-d-e an elephant. My fear of riding horses is definetly gone.

 

The rest of the days of the week we spend training. First session is at 7 am to 9 am and then one more in the afternoon at 5 pm to 7 pm. It is hard, it is hot and sweaty like hell and so much more different from kickboxing than I ever thought it would be. Now when they watch me shadow box some of the very many instructors gives me an easy punch in the head "This Thai box! NOT kick box!".

 

My toe start to burn of the blizzard that have bursted open and I am no longer able to sit down and cross one leg over the other since my knees has swollen up. Well there is only one thing I can do. Time to go to the beach.

 

When I enter the airplane, the new Dreamline 707 (or similair), I am pleasantly surpriced. It is all brand new and with the latest entertainment system. If I were all about religion I would praise the Lord for giving us the knowledge to install entertainment systems on long flights. Now when I am anything but religious I will simply praise Norwegian Airlines for giving me a entertainment system with touch.

 

Earlier in the waiting area, waiting to board the plane that was steadily getting more and more late, I was losing my hopes for a nice flight. A baby, far too young to be allowed boarding an eleven hour long flight, started his/hers complaining about the family trip very loudly. The scream that would have made dead people turn over in their graves instead turned over the half-sleeping passengers waiting to board, oh no, the same plane. There was only one word on everyone's mind. Fuck.

 

Once I had entered the plane and found my seat my expectations were once again raised. The baby, and all the families with children that had the potention to become really annoying, were on a decent length where they were unable to disturb my up-coming engagement with the entertainment system. My neighbours seemed to interest as little in me as I in them. One of them only spoke Thai (which I actually could have used a little lesson in) while the other one couldn't really make up his mind if he should speak in Swedish, Norwegian or English to me. And I caught a glimpse of his passport that was German. When he got angry about not getting the food that he infact had not preordered or payed for I decided to not even try.

 

Anyhow, good neighbours leave you alone and the two of them did. It was me and the entertainment system. I was feeling very happy and satisfied with life when the airplane finally lifted off from the Norwegian soil. My anxiousness had finally let it's firm grip go off me. I was calm, feeling good and didn't mind spending the next eleven hours on the middle seat in a airplane.

 

 

Then my dearest neighbours both, at the exact same time, took off their shoes.

Suddenly it wasn't as pleasant anymore.

Cleaning out your room from your childhood means two things.
One: Your parents are selling the house you grew up in, which is tough.

Two: You have to go through all those piles of paper that have just been building up since you were six years old and started school, which is even tougher.

 

And it turns out that it is not only school paper you have been saving up on. I found a lollipop that I got from my very first boyfriend on Valentines day in 2002 with a paper to it saying that "This is a lollipop I got from ... on Valentines day 14th of February 2002. This note is written on 21st of December 2002, it is a liiiiiittle bit old!". Eleven years later I find the very same lollipop, just a little bit older. But still red and shiny and so tasty-looking. No, I did not eat it.

 

 

But old candy is not all I find. I have been saving Happy Birthday cards from various ages along with Merry Christmas cards. Merry Christmas cards with a some what alternative twists. Like the one I found from a very dear friend, probably sent during the time when we were addicted to Mean Girls since she signed it with "Luv Ya! The Slut". For not to mention all the lists of who liked who from the class of 2000, when we were only 10 turning 11. As you might hear I havent got that much done today, more than laughing my way through these piles of books, binders and loose papers.

 

Me, being back home amongst my old roots, also means that the summer of 2013 now is officially over. And you can take my lack of blogging as a proof of me having an amazing time. I dont even have words to describe the drunken and hilarious week in Mandal, or the weekend with concert, games and party with old friends that followed. I dont know where to start to tell you about the weekend when we got beautiful company from Malmö and threw the one and only party we ever had in the teeny tiny apartment me and my sister shared. What I can say is that the summer of 2013 might have been one of the best ones ever. Even if I were working as a mailman.

But here I am, in my old girl-room with a furry cat snoring next to me, about to get rid of all (almost) this old, well lets be honest, crap so my mum and dad can fit everything that is of use in their new apartment. Since I might not be here, or in this part of the world for that matters, when the moving begins I need to finish it off this week. Because from next week I will be in Thailand. I will be in Asia. For the very first time in my life. And I am going all alone.

I am tough.