After having spent my first night in Bangkok I was slowly
adjusting to the smells, noises and sticky humidity of the capital, although it
was still a shock when I took my first steps outside the next morning. With my
backpack on and daypack secured on the front I was soaked in sweat before I’d made
it to the end of the street. But I was on my way to the train station to begin
the next stage of my adventure, three months volunteering in the jungle.
I love to volunteer, I’ve done it for as long as I remember
all over the world. Building huts, teaching dance, fundraising, working with
the Girl Guides or just giving my time at events. I enjoy the diversity and
challenge it brings as well as being able to help others. It had always been on
my agenda to volunteer as I travelled, not only is it doing good but I also
believe it is one of the best ways to get to truly know the country and
culture, meeting genuine people along the way and getting off the tourist
route. However I really dislike the programmes that cost you a fortune to give
your time, so I spent a lot of time researching not for profits; companies that
gave the majority of the fee to the cause and the more remote, less popular
locations, to ensure I got a true sense of Thailand without paying the earth to
do so.
This website- www.ivs.com is a great resource for voluntary programmes all
over the world, whether you want to volunteer for a few weeks or several months
I’ve found they provide a comprehensive list that are reasonably priced and
include not so well heard of programmes and organisations.
The train journey itself was an experience, rattling along
at what seemed jogging pace, the toilets opened straight onto the tracks,
hawkers (food vendors) climbed on every time we stopped to shout in Thai about
their delicious food and unusual looking snacks before clambering off as the
train began to move again. The seats folded out into bunk beds and the air con
kept the carriage crisp and cool during the journey in first class, whilst
second and third sat in rigid seats with the windows open hoping the hot humid
air would circulate just a little. The Thai trains are notorious for running
late as they break down several times during the journey, and true to form I
pulled into my station several hours behind schedule, not that anyone seemed
overly bothered.
The following day I travelled with someone from the office
by minibus for several hours before getting off at a stop that appeared to be
in the middle of nowhere. A wooden shelter, roadside café and nothing else,
however we were obviously in the right place as we were met by my hosts Pi Ju
and Pi Nong in their truck. My bags were thrown in the open back and I climbed
in behind them nowhere near prepared for the bone shaking journey that was
about to commence. After a further hour been bounced around on uneven metal as
we navigated dirt roads and pot holes big enough to build a pool in we pulled
up at a school where the team were spending the day.
I would be understating when I say I was thrown in at the
deep end. Unable to speak any Thai, still not yet adjusted to the humidity and
no pre-warning of the day’s activities I arrived at lunch time, too warm to
eat, I politely nibbled at the spread whilst being introduced to the three
other volunteers. I was then taken to the playground where all the school
children were, on our arrival what seemed like hundreds of children swarmed
around us, begging for their caps to be signed or their picture taken with us.
This was nothing like I had expected my first day to be. I felt like a
celebrity that had done nothing except be White and English but the kids were
having the time of their lives. This went on for nearly an hour, swarmed by
children, shouting, smiling, running off with their signed clothing. It was the
oddest feeling. After the storm calmed we began activities with them playing
games and working on their English.
By the time it came to leave I was utterly
exhausted and we had another excruciating hour in the back on the truck with
four other people to go. As we made our way the roads disappeared into dirt
tracks, miles of jungle spread out either side with intermittent houses, some
no more than a wooden shacks others made of concrete. As children spotted the
truck they chased after us and waved shouting ‘pharang, pharang’ meaning white
person.
By the time we arrived I was physically tired, culture
shocked and exhausted from meeting so many people and spending so much time in
the back of a truck. My bag was kindly carried up the steepest hill imaginable
to the open sided, wooden hut where I would be spending the night. The view was
amazing, forest for as far as the eye could see and I quickly put the thought
of all the animals and such that would be sleeping in such close proximity to
me that evening out of my mind.
Luckily I was exhausted enough that evening to fall straight
asleep but it unfortunately it wouldn’t last with the likes of rats, snakes,
giant spiders, huge moths and other jungle delights disturbing my nights. But
that’s the fun of living in a jungle right?
Tomorrow would be an introduction into the way of living,
daily tasks and further jungle adjustment. Was I scared? Absolutely. Was I out
of my depth? Most definitely. Had I made the right decision? Without a doubt.
Keep travelling,
Steph
