Heute muss ich doch mal wieder was schreiben, auch wenn das grad alleine für mich in meiner Hütte passiert, und ich von den Geräuschen genervt bin – zwischen Moskitonetz und Wand ist ein fetter Nachtfalter gefangen, der Geräusche macht, und unterm Dach hab ich eben Stevie 2 entdeckt.
Stevie is the name for the main bar gekko at my place, which is Sunboo Bungalows on Sunset Beach on Koh Rong Sanloem island. I mean the big gekkos.
Yesterday evening in the Khmer-German restaurant (there are four ressorts on this beach), obviously there were two Stevies having a territorial fight again – I figure, as next to our table was a big thump and then it was not my backpack having fallen over as I assumed, but the big fat gekko having fallen to the ground, obviously the loser of the battle. I do hope Stevie junior – the one in my hut, only discovered tonight – does not fight with others. I’m fine that he’s the king of my place. I was less fine, because small black thingies – round thingies, keep falling on my moskito net as well as through that onto the bed (I originally – of course – blamed myself assuming I carry that much dirt into the bed, HA, not true!) and I asked loudly to the roof just 20min ago how that is possible, that the inside of the roof is giving away THAT much dirt so freely. It’s Stevie junior. Ask and you get an answer.
I’m confident the Nachtfalter (night butterfly?? I’m offline, no lookups in the online dictionnary…) will be caught by Stevie Junior sooner or later. I sort of like having him here. Maybe that also explains why Rosie left. I named the big spider Rosie so we can become friends and both be less afraid. Rosie is smaller than the nameless spider back in Sen Monoroms Nature Lodge, but still big enough to make me enter the bathroom only with lights on at night, bad if you hit the time of the night where electricity from the solar panels seemingly has run out, which means I enter smartphone-torch-spotlight-on to check all four directions of the sky, in this case the four corners of my bathroom world, before sneaking to the toilet seat. Or the shower. Or the sink (is that called a sink and do you write it sink? The wash-your-hands-in-thingie, my English is even more tired than me at the moment, sorry). Rosie liked to sit behind the door which always gave me a scare, especially when she moved ONTO the door. Made me feel as if she might enter the „living room“ (which consists of my bed mainly) – which is hilarious given the roof is open, there is a wall towards the bathroom and yes, a door, but above that all is open.
I also inquired about the spiders and Nadia, Austrian expat who work-volunteers at Sunboo, told me they’re called huntsmen. We decided to translate that into German with Jägermeister. Jägermeister-Huntsmen hunt mosquitoes and ants, and they don’t bite humans. Or so they tell the Barbarians… So in a way a lovely companion to have in the jungle, especially since I never walk on my patio in the dark without spotlight to the ground and during day with my eyes on the ground, since on Day1 an ant decisively bit my toe to explain it doesn’t like being stepped on. It didn’t REALLY bite, it was a warning, and both escaped with a small shock, the ant and my toe.
Anyhow Rosie gave my nerves a hard time. Having learned from Sen Monorom, I tried throwing things. No success. However next day I went for trying if those spiders really don’t like water, so I showered her. Hard work given it was the wrong side of the bathroom and the shower doesn’t have a lot of pressure so it was more of a sprinkling effect and Rosie seemed semi-surprised. She somehow vanished into a mysterious hole that I’ve been staring at suspiciously ever since – but as a matter of fact – she hasn’t appeared again. Which tells us she either really didn’t like it and is now more scared of me than I am of her (the latter is easily said given she’s disappeared). Or Stevie Junior got her.
To write about the wildlife in this place could fill a book, but actually I just wanted to get to this day.
Tonight I want to write off my soul what was imprinted onto it earlier. There was no way of taking photos so I want to write it down to keep the memory.
The morning started with rain and I woke up from sound of the roof. Given some monkey shrieks, I’m quite sure they were on the roof, the neighbors confirmed they heard the same… It didn’t provoke more than a yawn and a „really, guys, can’t you just quit it?“ on my side, and a 5min long consideration that I COULD go outside in the rain to see monkeys on my roof. And then some wondering about the big open space in the roof where everyone can enter. Mosquitoes, night butterflies, Stevie Juniors, Rosies, monkeys, big human monkeys. Ok the latter and ants do use the open door.
I went to the dive shop next door (they have the fancy coffee machine on the beach) for coffee and the fruit bowl with coconut milk and fresh fruit. Turns out they use canned coconut milk, same that I can get in the German-Asian supermarket, so new goals for being back home… ((though I did hold a speech today on German dark bread that was worth hearing even if Catalunya-France gained counterpoints for the truth that their croissants are very very yummy as well – things that you can only discuss while having a good coffee))
A conversation on politics and the state of the world followed with other coffee lovers and world nomads.
News arrive here in bits and pieces, and I still can’t believe Boris Johnson is back in office, as if Berlusconi wasn’t enough, but that’s not the story of the day, thankfully.
Then I went for a hammock and my ebook.
Then I went to little Catalunya on the beach to have patatas fritas AGAIN which is a high compliment given I’ll have a lot of those coming my way very, very soon. But they don’t add the Cambodian spicy touch to it that I love. In between i swam a lot. And I might have gotten a bit too much sun in the hammock, for the rest of the day I felt too warm.
After lunch I was almost in a hurry, I was also watching the time (apart from torchlight, that’s what I use my mobile here for, mark you to check the time, not using the alarm clock, which has been a lovely change) and then realizing I really have to hurry strolling down the beach. Back to the dive shop, because they are the only ones with wifi. I had my second videocall for my women’s circle online meeting of the journey, and the hike through the jungle is not soooo easy and I didn’t feel as confident as every expat on this side of the island to take it relaxedly back home after 5pm, which is close to dawn. The wifi in the dive shop can be there. Unless it isn’t.
Well it was and I had my videocall and only one disconnection. Which led me to take a small swim, thinking that’s better than staring at a screen waiting for the wifi to kick in again (it was completely gone). So I stared at the screen after my swim, nicely cooled down – and then Eddie checked on me and then checked the wifi physically. Which means he pulled on a rope that hangs at least 10m in the air over the branch of a tree. Which brought down a tupper box in which the wifi-receiver sits neatly, connected to — a power bank. Of all the IT implementations that I’ve seen in my life, this is one of the most impressive, and that includes UniCredits underground server-room that is being cooled by Munich’s ice creek 😉 Anyhow he merely looked at it and said „it tends to get hot“ (I really had a most compassionate understanding here), then pulled it up in the air again, proudly explaining how they’d tried different trees to find the best spots for wifi……. And then the wifi kicked back in and stayed the impressive rest of a good 2 hours.
Which made me very happy, it was so nice to see the ladies and it’s making me joyful to move on after my vacation ends. So basically I thought my day was done and fine and I’m ready for sunset-show (sunset show is on display daily and starts around 5, it can take up to an hour or one and a half, depending on cloud situation). After all, this is sunset beach, right, they’ve named it after the show.
HOWEVER – I’m now thinking they named it sunset beach to indicate that the magic happens thereafter.
I went to pay my drink at the dive shop and then Andrej said he had a couple booked in for the night kayak go-see-the-bioluminescence in the water. That means glowing water. Or glowing plankton. Both go together, you know… If you don’t know, go ask a whale. I thought they eat plankton because they like mini-suhi, but it turns out it must be because they awed at what I saw tonight and then their open mouth filters in the plankton which must be the blast of a whale-lifetime if you hit a glowing plankton kind.
The glowing plankton kind glows because it has an enzym that’s called – here it comes – Luciferin. Can’t wait to tell Angela when in Spain, it’s my new favourite enzym, but I’ll have to wait to eat it until I become a whale in one of my next lifes.
But forget the facts.
Fact is (…) I read some novel while ago which played on some northern island, I don’t even remember where. And they described how the luminescence in the water appears, and how the water glows with every movement. I read this feeling I really ought to see that one day and it’s hard to imagine, maybe they exaggerate, after all it’s a novel…. And then somewhere along my Cambodia preparation, I read they have that in the islands here. There’s no big advertisement on that, though, which is weird, and I forgot along the trip. Then someone – it was the drunken Australian lad in that bar in Kratie that only started a goodbye-smalltalk when I left the restaurant – who mentioned it again and then I knew that’s where I want to go. Thank you Mr. Drunken Australian guy, you don’t know but your presence in this life has been worth it just because you reminded me.
So I knew they have this here, and we went to check one night, sticking our feet in the water. One spot appeared, it looked like a firefly, but it was so brief and short I wasn’t sure it was real. I was told you have to go out into the water further (mind you, it’s pitch-dark once it’s dark, even with light from the ressorts in the background, and thankfully they don’t put a lot of light at night). So next night after I mentioned I was scared and would now go for a swim nevertheless, I was accompanied to the beach (we’re talking 20m here…) and I was most nicely watched over by South Africa while I went in. Which gave away a few glowing spots more, which already got me excited beyond words (apart from woooow and cooool).
As if – should you move your hand in the water enough – you can make the stars glow, or very little fireflies fly. Through the water. Or maybe you’ve just stirred imagination? I wanted to try next night again and then felt too cold.
But if you remember – today I was way too warm all throughout the day. So when Andrej asked me, I really felt like going out and taking a dip in the water. And try the kayak which the Mekong has taught me is something I love doing. So they start at 6.30, right after the sunset-show is seriously done with.
And so we met. We (that is Andrej…) took the kayaks onto the water, he explained how to get in and out (mark you, the explanation is an easy and swift one, unlike the barbarian movement applied to reality, hangover actually has a new meaning for me, but who the f— cares…. Superproud me made it back into the boat – twice….. And apart from hangover, stranded whale would also be a valid description).
Anyhow we went out and I saw some lightnings over the sea, further away, and wondered. But somehow I’ve had a day almost free of my fears and that ——- was soo enjoyable. So I thought chances of dying are low, if so dying among glowing plankton (if it really exists) struck by lightning would be not such a bad death and after all – ok I didn’t think that much honestly. The sea was calling and I felt I could trust and that was it. And I sensed today was the day and in my mind, I had already finished it earlier and nicely so, though it felt a bit like an on-top surprise-Christmas.
So we do our practice, we go out – and not even 2 meters away from the beach each movement produces — sparkles. Glowing dots. Little fireflies. We go on the kayak and the other boat at a few meters distance – their Bugwelle (front ship wave???) was glowing, so was every dive-in of the paddles. So was my hand which I of course frantically waved back and forth in the water.
And so we kayaked a little towards the rocks, so actually not very far, and then Andrej gave us masks (I’ve both been too lazy and a bit unsure about snorkeling on my own, and I didn’t really get that this trip involved snorkeling, and it was so easy to do…!) and we go off the boat (getting OUT of the kayak is much easier than getting IN). I put on the mask, I don’t really get it (you are not going to see fish in the pitch dark) and then I look down. My ears go underwater. So the sound changes to underwater water and my own breathing and my hands are covered in glowing dots with each movement. It’s like a starry starry night underwater but ME doing it and it’s happening on my body and in its closer surroundings.
I’ve always wanted to go see whale sharks with their beautiful dots, maybe you know what I’m talking about. My hands and arms and all body parts within sight looked exactly like that – like the beautiful beautiful surface of a whale shark, dotted, only that they were glowing. Exactly the colour of fireflies, so somewhere between the stars and a bit of green to it. I did pop out my head from time to time to check where the kayaks were (Andrej had put them together and stayed in). They were a dark silhouette barely visible, so a bit scary, but I was so excited from the beauty and then I „searched“ my co-travellers. And they were easy to see, because they moved (the kayaks were only floating), so they were glowing. If one person dives, it’s as if you’re watching a glowing bird underneath the surface. Anna (one of the co-travellers) said it’s like Avatar, and it’s true but there is no comparison to seeing this.
Of all the things I’ve seen in this world, this is one of the most beautiful. I feel there’s depth in it, symbolism, all sorts of things – but there’s no need to understand. There was only the need to experience it.
It still brings me to tears just due to the sheer beauty.
On top it prickles. I’ve felt that in the water before (the Plankton is there during the day as well, right…) and I thought it was my mosquitoe bites and a bit weird but maybe my fear of so many things just kicking in with some prickly sensation. Ok admittedly that’s a funny way to put it – as a rule of thumb a prickly sensation in the jungle so far has very little potential to be a sexy one, when you get over the edge it moves more easily into a spiritual corner, but that’s it – however very very good enough. I do wish I could lay on a bed where no small black round thingies are softly raining down on me. Cheers to Stevie junior, at least he’s not calling „gekko gekko“. Also because he knows it’ll make me spotlight him which is hard through a mosquito net but I’m a pro.
Anyhow sexy, spiritual, glowing – where was I.
I don’t get that there is not one song that I know that sings about this.
Today really was the day to do this, because the bioluminescence was really strong today.
And on top – it started to rain 5min after we had left shore. It is supernice for the overheated German Barbarian to sit in a kayak, paddle in her rhythm (I did learn something on the Mekong after all and Andrej said I’m a good kayaker which makes me feel like a little kid that has been praised), go „woooow“ and „so cooool“ every minute watching glowing water fall back from the paddle into the sea – and then have rain on your back. All that while wearing my favorite swimsuit – if that one gets too old or I grow out of it I might consider framing it now… – and feeling the temperature is JUST right. Tropical raindrops on my back – a kayak – the glowing – swimming – seeing it through a mask – floating on the belly – and then having the float and the view through the mask and the underwater sound and the sound of my own breath, a sensation of my heartbeat (which got very fast because I was so excited), the drops on my back – and all of it surrounded by pitch-black darkness.
Guys if you feel a need for hope – do this. You need the darkest place to see the stars in the sea and it might scare you and prickle and —- okay no philosophy here, words will never match this.
So funny given I read about trauma in my book in the morning and the author said how traumatized people cannot find the words cause the brain-part that’s responsible for language drops its activity dramatically – and then the evening bring along such a positive trauma that it shall haunt me and leave me without words to describe it in a way that does it justice and may the memory be triggered and put my body into swim-glowing-mode over and over and over again, even decades away from now.
I think even if I become part of the stars, whatever of me lives on will still remember this.
Then Andrej called us, saying we’d better head back (after quite a short time, though I’m not sure about this because it felt so timeless) because lightning was visible in the rain and he didn’t want us to be at risk.
And it’s so worth mentioning I still wasn’t afraid. I sat in the rain on a kayak in the dark, I shovelled water with my hands and — have I mentioned no I haven’t.
If you shovel water with your hands and then you take your hand out of the water, some glowing dots remain. I think I did a lot of little yelps and shrieks of joy, I also can’t remember when was the last time that I so automatically switched back to being a very little child. I played with a glowing ocean.
Also another valid description of getting back into the boat, my upper body stuck over the kayak, trying to figure out how to turn my upper body, NOT use the legs to get in and lift my bud in there first, or rather second given — is that it’s like playing twister.
I think the first try will result in a few blue bumps, the second attempt was a bit easier and I would love to repeat this more often until it becomes a swift movement.
So our trip was shorter than expected, but I felt so fulfilled my brain observed it was short, my heart was and is just happy.
I still can’t get over that there is no song – does anyone know a song about this??? Maybe „this little light of miiiiiiine, I’m gonna let it shine, let it shiiiiine, let it shiiiiiine, lehet it shiiiine“.
And as if all of this wasn’t enough. I walk back from the dive shop to Sunboo (10m…) and tell every person sitting there how incredible this has just been and how I might need a cold shower to stop continuously saying how incredible it was (see it triggers, I feel like saying it over and over again just from writing it – HA – trauma-mission accomplished!). And then Paolo, tricky lovely him, says that Elsa & Giovanni just went swimming into the sea to explore it and I could join, as I’m already wet head to foot. So off I ran. No first I asked Paolo how dangerous the lightnings are. All the time thinking good thing my mom is not there, and also not wanting to hear the logical answer which – let’s admit it – was quite clear. Never ask an expat in Cambodia who’s been living here for more than a year if something is dangerous. It provokes a specific sound, it’s like asking Tarzan if swinging with lianes through the jungle isn’t dangerous and can’t you bump into a tarantula or simply all the way down or what about traffic jam with hissing monkeys……. Pffff, Paolo said. Or something like Tsss. He made a vague Portuguese gesture. „I haven’t really seen a lightning, nooo I think it’s okaaay!“. Thank you Paolo, off I ran.
It was easy to spot the two in the water because they were two softly glowing clouds, blurred at the edges.
I had a mask with me… And then the magic started all over again. And then I told them about the masks and — oh it was just the best. I mean after I’d had the best.
I’m slightly worried I’m only writing about the cool parts here, right, this journey has definite ups and definite downs but —— just the fact that I’m here and at times caught up in my inner darkness and frozen – but then I move and it bears all the richness in the world.