The case of the Tuk Tuk and the missing backpack

Travelling around South East Asia was not so much an onslaught on my senses, but a battle between them. Nowhere more so than in Phonm Pehn. Arriving at 2am on a rickety sleeper bus no sooner had I wiped the sleep from my eye was I thrust into the mêlée of tuk tuk drivers jostling to take the latest herd of travellers to their guesthouses.

Pulled along by the crowd I settled into the relative comfort of a Tuk Tuk, but as we were waiting to set off, a squabble broke out between my driver and another, disgruntled at having apparently lost his place in the pecking order, and I was promptly packed off into the challenger’s Tuk Tuk. Too tired to protest I acquiesced, but a niggling feeling in my stomach warned me this was not the best course of action.

After an average journey time to my guesthouse there seemed to be some confusion and it became apparent the driver didn’t believe we were at the correct guesthouse. I tried to reassure him but this was a man on a mission, and off we set for a further search of the empty streets. In time we arrived back at the same guesthouse and the driver engaged the night-watchman in conversation, trying to ascertain if it was indeed the correct establishment for my booking. At this point I attempted to join the conversation as it seemed to be the right place to me. Neither man spoke more than a smattering of English, and me only the most rudimentary Cambodian. I understood the guard believed there was ‘no room at the inn’, but I had a booking confirmation and protested until he at last relented and called another member of staff to clarify matters.

Fortunately the young chap who appeared spoke excellent English and had been expecting me, so wasting no more time I paid the driver.  I was still in conversation with the young fellow, who was explaining he needed to put me in a different room for the night, when I turned to see the driver speed off into the distance…with my backpack in tow! Panicked, I ran into the street after him, shouting and waving for him to stop, but to no avail, and I could only watch as the Tuk Tuk grew ever smaller until it faded into the night.

I thought it should be a fairly easy case of calling the taxi rank manager to explain the situation, and wait for the driver to return, but it transpired there were multiple bus drops in the city, and I didn’t know which road I arrived into. Nightmare! I grew ever more fraught while the hotel staff kindly rang around to find out which street I had arrived into, and advised me to enlist a Moto taxi to give chase and see if we could locate the Tuk Tuk driver ourselves. So that’s exactly what happened, my very own high-speed chase. Just like in the movies. Of course there was a language barrier and my lack of geographical knowledge to contend with. I remember thinking how hopeless the situation was and I should accept that my backpack was lost forever. In the back of my mind was the thought that this would one day be a great travel tale, and that calmed me, well, a little.

After what felt like hours the Moto taxi driver received a call saying the Tuk Tuk driver had been located and we would rendezvous in ten minutes. I was both relieved and anxious, as it had begun to feel a little cloak and dagger and paranoia had kicked in. However, the original driver did indeed arrive and handed over the backpack, albeit reluctantly. I don’t know whether he had received a rollocking from his boss, or the whole debacle had been deliberate, but when I refused to pay him for coming out to meet us he became very angry and delivered some choice words (well, I assume so anyway). The exhilaration was wearing off so I begrudgingly stuffed a bill into his hand and we sped off back to my guesthouse.

This story is now indeed one of my favourite travel tales to tell, and I cherish it as much as any. I will say this though, dear, reader. Always heed your instincts!

Twitter, Grief and Three Suns

It’s fair to say I’ve neglected my blog recently, which doesn’t bode particularly well on month four! My life has suddenly become hectic again, and the subject matter is also something I have wrestled with a little. It’s as if I’ve been mentally writing this piece for a few months now, without actually putting hand to keyboard, for fear of typing the wrong thing. I’m still struggling now…

After I returned from last year’s sojourn overseas, I decided to have a Spring clean of my Twitter contacts – a laborious task for most folk. Whilst trawling through my (overly) long ‘following’ list I noticed a man I hadn’t spoken to in a few months, and so I thought I’d send him a quick tweet to say hi. After clicking through to his feed I noticed that his last tweet had been sent some months before, and was in fact a retweet of an article I had linked to. As I scrolled further down his feed it became increasingly apparent why he hadn’t been active on Twitter, I started to get that sinking feeling.

Now, I had known that Rob was undergoing chemotherapy, but fool that I am, I had naively assumed it was for some ‘minor’ type of cancer – I mean, this man was only around 40! After some further digging I found that my fears were confirmed – Rob had indeed passed away. This news was so shocking to me, and I still feel incredibly sad about it. I can’t profess to knowing him personally, but he was a guy I enjoyed catching up with on Twitter; someone who seemed interesting and pleasant. At first I felt somewhat fraudulent at my grief, but as time has passed I’ve realised that he did touch my life, no matter in how small a way, it’s still significant. After all, is that not what life is all about – reaching out to people?

I still haven’t quite processed how I feel about the fact that his last tweet ties to me, especially given the content itself is somewhat innocuous. There was no great declaration or dramatic exit, but more a silent shuffle stage-left. Perhaps, though, that’s more appropriate? It all seems to have happened so quickly, though I’m sure that wasn’t really the case at all, especially for Rob. What I do know is that I am grateful for social media, that it allows me to meet, virtually or otherwise, a wealth of lovely people. The way the world is now connected is truly something to marvel at, and when people tell me I am addicted, or ‘spend so much time Facebook/Twitter’ etc, I don’t think it’s a negative thing! Social media allows people of all personality types to become sociable creatures, and to interact with their fellow human, and to me that’s beautiful.

So, to Rob – thank you for being in my life. I’m pretty sure there are now three suns on Tatooine.

Here’s an article about managing the social networks of those who have passed away: Social Networking After Death

An Open Letter to Peter Tatchell

Dear Peter

Initially this letter came from a place of heightened disbelief and anger, but after some time and deliberation, and subsequent to reading the full article you wrote for the Daily Mail, it comes from a less fraught perspective.

You will no doubt be unsurprised to read that I am writing to you in response to your recent comments about Whitney Houston (RIP). When I first read your tribute, I was utterly incensed. Not because I was shocked by the knowledge Whitney Houston had previously enjoyed a relationship with a woman, but that you felt it necessary to mention it. As a person of sexual diversity, this news (although not wholly new to me) had little to no impact on my thoughts of Whitney.

Taken from Divamag.co.uk, this is the comment I refer to: “Whitney Houston RIP. She was happiest and at her peak in the 1980s, when she was with her female partner. They were so loved up and joyful together.” He added: “It’s important to tell the truth about this aspect of her life. Colluding with the cover-up of her same-sex relationship is not right.”

Interestingly, I could no longer locate the original comment – I wonder if you have since removed it? If so, I’m eager to learn your reasoning.

I am one of many people who have challenged you on Twitter about this, and my tweet was “Whose truth? Just because you knew her once doesn’t mean you KNEW her. Even if it is true it doesn’t make it yours to tell.” This was in response to your insistence that all you have done is tell the truth. Admittedly, I hadn’t read the full article at the time of tweeting, but I still believe you should have omitted these comments.

You state that earlier sources had also ‘outed’ her, but I do not think this gives anyone free reign to continue – there’s a whole world out there, and masses of people who previously had not known this ‘truth’. You surely realise this? Moreover, the key point in all of this is that Whitney herself never made this information public. Do you really think it fair or just, to release such information mere days after her sad passing? You could have equally paid tribute without such comments, and without assigning blame for Whitney’s demise to homophobia and her own unhappiness about ‘concealing her sexuality’ – which you yourself say she hasn’t fully done, in dedicating albums to her former partner.

My opinion on your reason for making these comments is this – you wanted to highlight your own cause, which is indeed extremely worthy. You released the bite-size comment knowing full well the backlash you would receive, and subsequent dialogue regarding sexuality and homophobia. This is a shrewd move, but nonetheless, I find it callous. It may, of course, be that you hadn’t expected any such response, but as you are such an educated and intelligent person, I struggle to believe this is in any way down to naivety.

Can you honestly say you know completely that Whitney’s ‘destructive behaviour’ was down to ‘hiding her sexuality’ (again, you say she in part, didn’t)? Furthermore, do you think it appropriate to highlight her alleged sexuality so close to her untimely death? This, Peter, is what I have issue with, still. Regardless of truth, judgement or otherwise, there is no justification for releasing information of such a personal nature when it is not already common knowledge and without the express permission of the named person. I find it self-serving, insensitive and irrelevant, and to be frank, I believe that you of all people should know better. Of course there is nothing wrong with the fact itself, but its delivery is another matter. In fact, I believe it could be negative to your cause to have said these things.

I ask you this – would you ‘out’ someone who is still alive, simply because it’s true?

Yours faithfully

Nicole Healing (Miss)

Readers, you can read the article here and decide for yourself: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-2103164/Whitney-Houstons-REAL-tragedy-giving-female-partner-Robyn-Crawford.html

When does exclusion become discrimination?

In 2010 I suffered redundancy; and long-term unemployment is an on-going issue. Whilst I am technically unemployed, I am trying to carve out a new career for myself in the world of digital media.

Far from resting on my laurels, I have been fortunate enough to be able to spend some time travelling (in the vain hope things would improve), and since my return to the UK have been toiling away at finding a new job in a new career. Alongside the ‘dreaded job hunt’ I have been carving out a small, but consistent client base for whom I am consulting on their social media and event management requirements. Add to that a bi-monthly live music night and my work calendar is bulging healthily (unlike my bank balance). It is useful to mention to the reader, at this juncture, that the work I am undertaking is all pro bono – for now at least.

I understand that job market is it an all-time low, and that whilst it’s the perfect time for me to change career path, I have relatively little work experience in the field I wish to migrate to (approximately six months communications and website management experience at the end of my last role as a PA), and therefore working purely to portfolio and for free, is necessary. Although this is unsustainable in the long-term, for now, it serves my purpose (not to mention keeps me from climbing the walls in boredom!).

Whilst this post is essentially about the struggle for employment, I want to focus on one key area – the obstacles faced by the out-of-work-force in battling social and professional exclusion.  It’s certainly not the first time this has come to my attention, but recently it has become more relevant than ever.  I’m certainly not alone in my current predicament, and with over two and a half people unemployed in the UK, it’s hardly surprising we’re having to become more creative and giving of ourselves.

This is why it seems ludicrous to me, for certain bodies/companies not to offer discounts to benefit claimants, alongside the discounts given to students, retirees, and often, disabled.  I’m not suggesting this should be legislative or adopted by all, but those within the employment and training sector could really benefit those seeking new avenues into employment, and themselves, by including a discount for benefit claimants. With public funds being cut so severely, many back-to-work initiatives, such as travel assistance, have fallen by the wayside, and housing benefit levels have reduced, meaning many people have to also use part of their weekly living allowance to supplement their rent. This is no mean feat given the prescribed benefit entitlement for over job-seekers over 25 is £67.50 per week – there is precious little room for manoeuvre within such a tight budget.

There are various free networking events in my local area I am fortunate enough to be able to attend, but every now and then an event pops up I would immensely benefit from, but is out of my reach for financial reasons.  I’m not talking about great, expensive corporate affairs, but smaller, perhaps local events, that offer discounts to all but the unemployed. The fact the pricing is so fair to begin with is fantastic, of course, but when trying to carve out a new direction, learn new skills, and/or gain a great understanding of the field you’re in or wish to become part of, but are not considered, is a real blow. Especially when it’s so tantalisingly close, yet still out of reach – we’re talking a difference of tens of pounds, which to me, at this point in my life, is the difference between feeding myself vaguely healthily, or living off noodles (which I can’t eat due to the wheat content), for a week!

Am I splitting hairs? If I had a job that paid me any semblance of a wage, I’d say yes, I am, but the fact remains there are so many people unemployed who truly want to return to work, and improve their skills and understanding of different sectors, that are being blocked again and again by not being able to afford to do so. I don’t believe the onus is solely on the government; the private sector must also rally to improve the chances of those two and half million people, of which I am one. Of course I expect my social life to fall by the wayside whilst on benefits, I don’t expect anyone but myself to fund that, but to be denied opportunities into employment? Where’s the logic in that? The business world seems intent on polarising, or perhaps they simply haven’t thought about it. Either way, I can tell you from the 99%’s perspective, exclusion feels very much like discrimination.

I already feel socially excluded; I don’t want to be excluded from my career too. Like many others, am doing everything I can to improve my situation, sustain my life (in the most literal sense of the word) and continue towards my goal with as little damage to my CV as possible. I’d just like some encouragement, you know?

There’s No Place Like Home

I have a moderate to severe case of wanderlust, which I ascribe in equal measure to my Romani blood (50% proof), limited attentions span, and downright curiosity.

Last year I found myself at one of life’s crossroads: I hit the Big 3-0, lost my job through redundancy as part of Britain’s austerity measures, and exited a serious relationship stage-left. When the world shifts around you, take the hint. So I got the hell outta dodge. Or so I thought.

Now, I was fortunate enough to receive a not-insulting pay-out from the redundancy elves, something that’s frighteningly rare in the public sector these days, and having come to the end of my natural lifespan within my job at least 18 months before this all happened, it wasn’t the saddest of farewells. So, with rental costs too much to bear (and I sure as heck wasn’t going to fritter my doubloons on it, sea-view or not!) and no immediate prospects, I set sail on the high seas of adventure (in reality I booked flights).  Now there’s an idea for next time – take a boat trip around the world.  Food for thought.

So I embarked on a mini adventure around South East Asia, starting in Bangkok and from there travelling largely overland through Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia and Singapore, before crossing over to New Zealand.  Asia was a whirlwind; not so much an assault on the senses but a battle between them! I took in the main sights (think the Vinh Moc War Tunnels of Vietnam, the Killing Fields of Cambodia, the Temples of Angkor) and caught up with friends dotted around the continent. Learning new customs, greetings and currencies every few days was certainly challenging; the difference in deference so slight, yet so impactful on the receiver. One false move and you might insult your new neighbour.  Thankfully, to my knowledge, my weeks passed without committing any cultural faux pas.

On then, to New Zealand, or to give it its Māori name, Aotearoa (Land Of The Long White Cloud).  This is a difficult one; on paper New Zealand is a wonderful country. With its great expanse of diverse, breath-taking scenery, small population and relaxed outlook, for some it’s a virtual nirvana. One person’s nirvana however, is another’s inferno.  Not wanting to unjustly judge a country I spent a mere five months as a resident of, I have tried to be objective, but the fact remains: The Land Of The Long White Cloud is my Land Of The Great Dark Cloud.

It’s probably fair to say that we are all a little guilty of complacency and sometimes neglect within the relationships we build.  Even, and perhaps in part because of the tools of technology at our disposal, and that we all seem to live such rushed lives, it’s easy to find ourselves disenfranchised, be it self-imposed or otherwise.  Now and then, when life throws us a curve ball that not so much slips through our fingers as knocks us over, we are reminded that the relationships we cherish, but  have side-lined for individual pursuits, are our only salvation.  What happened next I still find hard to quantify.  At this point you would be forgiven for thinking “Uh oh, here’s the kick.” Not so dear reader, don’t fret.  It’s true I’d found myself in a fairly hideous predicament, but this tale is not one of lamentation, but one of love.

The yearning to come home, to this broken country I had been so desperate to escape six months earlier was overwhelming; completely and utterly consuming, but I was destitute and needed help.  More help than I’ve ever dared ask for.  Guess what? That help came.  Three months later I am still blown away. I’m utterly astounded by the immense support and generosity of these wonderful people, who quite literally, brought me home.  Then I ask myself, why am I really?  I chose them, each one, and they chose me.  We handpicked each other to form part of our respective inner circle, our gang, our flock.  Should it be such a great surprise then, that we would support each other in times of great need?  One could argue that it no, it shouldn’t be, and in part I agree, for I love these people, and they love me.  On the other hand, there really is no room for complacency here.

What then of the kindness of strangers?  My friends brought me home and gave me shelter, but I then needed to find somewhere to lay down my recently-torn roots.   I’d turned to my allies for help, and the balance was tipped heavily in their favour.  Was it possible the same theory could be applied to a different audience?  The answer it appears is yes it can.  I turned to social media to broadcast my plight, and within a matter of days I had the foundations of that sought-after new start.  The reaction was, as with my “friends in real life”, nothing short of extraordinary.  I certainly didn’t expect the volume of responses received and it has left me truly humbled.  This gives me the courage and strength to fight on.

In times of hardship such as we find ourselves in now; amid a global recession, my country is even more fragmented than it was when I left. Every day seems an uphill struggle, and the system is failing so many, but I’ve seen the Third World, and the people there put us more fortunate folk to shame.  Entire generations wiped out by genocide, yet there’s such a strong sense of community, and the people have a smile for everyone.  That’s what life is about is it not – smiling through the pain, shouldering each other along and helping your fellow person.  The next chapter isn’t going to be easy, but my faith in life bolstered, I owe it to myself, to my loved-ones, and to the human race as a whole, to persevere.  In a battle between adversity and humanity, I know who my money’s on.

Future changes to local housing benefit and housing allowance (UK)

I’ve just read up on the changes to LHA, and my findings are, frankly, more sickening than I originally thought. I’ve listed the main points of my ire below.

1 .Only 30 percent of properties will be affordable

From 1 April 2011, maximum local housing allowance rates in all areas will be reduced so that only three out of ten properties for rent in any area will be affordable for people claiming local housing allowance. Affordable properties may be concentrated in certain places, and some places may have none.

- this seems to be an incredibly low percentage of affordable rental properties. For some people this will force them into ‘undesireable’ and potentially dangerous areas of the UK.

2. Reduced LHA if you have non-dependents

If you share your home with any adults who are not dependent on you – for example, adult sons or daughters, parents, relatives or friends, your local housing allowance may be reduced – it is assumed that they should pay something towards your rent, whether they actually do so or not.

– this is a ludicrous assumption. The cost of living is already so steep, and many people, of varying ages, share accommodation, either because they want to reduce their outgoings, or simply cannot afford to live alone. To expect strangers, or even friends to pick up the shortfall of a housemate is both unfair and improbable. This could easily lead to more people being forced to move into yet cheaper accommodation, which we have already seen will be a mere 30% of the rental market.

3. Reductions in LHA if you are under-35

Currently, if you are under-25 years old and renting in the private sector, you are probably only entitled to enough benefit to cover the cost of renting a single room in a shared house, even if you occupy self-contained accommodation. If you are over-25, the maximum amount you can receive may also be restricted if you are living in shared accommodation.

From January 2012, these rules will apply to people aged up to 35 years. This will mean that, unless you are already in shared accommodation, you will see a cut to your LHA payment if you are aged under-35. You may no longer be able to afford your current property as a result. You may have to find shared accommodation, or a cheaper alternative.

- this is a gigantic leap – a full decade between the current and future single-occupancy age. If a person has been living alone for a number of years, the forced move into shared accommodation is going to be exceedingly stressful, not only because of the lack of available or suitable house-shares, but also the mental difficulty of such a life adjustment. There are also many people who live alone because they suffer mental illness; how are they expected to cope, when frontline services are also being cut, or having their already disturbingly low funding cut?

There are a few positive changes being made, such as the abolition of the excess HB payments that a few people currently received, and the increased payments to disabled people. However, these are small victories. The majority of people claiming HB, not forgetting those who have been made redundant due to the CSR and public sector cuts, are going to be backed into a very tight and expensive corner, all fighting for a poky room on the wrong side of the tracks. It seems it’s not only the police kettling protesters, but the government too. I assume the government believe private landlords will have no choice but to reduce their rents, but it could easily swing the other way, with landlords capitalising on people’s desperation, and thus adding to the problem.

In high-cost, low income areas such as Brighton and Hove, for instance, there is already a premium on rents, which HB does not currently cover (after I was made redundant from the local council, there was a shortfall of £20 between the HB I received and my portion of the rent on a two-bedroom shared flat). The other benefit I received, JSA, covered my essential bills alone, leaving no money even for food.
I simply cannot fathom how the government can justify these reductions, when it seems patently obvious that all they will achieve is an increase in homelessness, nationwide poverty, and ultimately, death.

Mon voyage pour voir Harriet en France , Septembre 2010

Beaucoup de fromage! Mont-Blanc au coucher du soleil. Nager dans le lac d’Annecy. Dieux grils à raclette avec fromage et steak haché (et de la salade , bien sûr!). George le chat gris. Moules-frites safranées avec Noixettes St.Jacques. Belle étoile et couchers de soleil , mais pas des étoiles filantes. Un croque-monsieur chic. Faire du feu! La cueillette des prunes et des combats hors guêpes! Café et Gauloises. Poupées peur. Une toilette style de sauna, avec intégré TV! Une soirée à La Cave pour un plateau de fromage et charcuterie…et sexy hommes gallique Le Melet (frais du lac!) avec frites. Hat me forçant à écouter sa musique Un voyage au supermarché – j’aime épicerie étrangers!. Un macaron grand et un biscuit florentin grand – c’est délicieux! Des vacances très relaxantes – merci beaucoup Hat xxx

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La bande-son:

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et

youtube.com/watch?v=sUgoBb8m1eE

et, bien sur

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