Into the Jungle

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.

So here I was on the train travelling 16 hours south to Hat Yai where I would meet with the local office before heading into the jungle to live and volunteer at Roy Wan Pan Pba, a self-sustaining, eco-friendly site with a facilities to enable activities for the village children at the weekend. Check it out here: http://www.dalaa-thailand.com/wordpress/projects/long-term/roy-wan-pan-pba-alternative-school

 

 

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