Earth Hour, 2011: Not a Moment Too Late

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am rabidly involved in the anti-climate change movement. This is largely because climate change threatens Planet Earth, the existence of which and upon which my future lies directly contingent.

Because I don't want to die, like Jesus, under painful circumstances at the age of thirty-three, I would like you to take a moment to consider the consequences of our actions on this earth.

Start small. Saving the planet is not easy! Speaking as one who has tried, I would say it's well-nigh impossible--impossible, that is, without YOUR help.

So here is an easy way to help: Earth Hour, celebrated this 26 March 2011 (i.e., TODAY) from 8:30 pm to 9:30 pm.

It's really easy! Just switch off your lights and every other electric thing for one hour.

Don't forget your fridge and heating/cooling! Be sure to unplug your laptop as well (I almost forgot; luckily my battery has insane power and I can still blog while I sit here electricitiless). Your home should now look approximatively like the image to your right.

Now we can sit around and stare at the blackness for an ENTIRE EARTH-SAVING HOUR!!!

Bad Thyroid! Heal!

If I have learned one thing during my time here, it is: Don't ever get a thyroid infection.

I think I am recovering from one right now, and it sucks. SUCKS.

Sometime in early- to mid-January, my body suddenly started destroying itself. You can read the very long version of what happened to me right here (and it still doesn't really explain everything I went through), but I don't want to repeat it all here. It's grim.

The illness was really, really acute for about the first 4-6 weeks (it's the "near-death" crisis that led me to create this blog). After that, it slowly started getting better, but suffice to say, it's still causing me some grief.

This is your thyroid:

When it's attacked by antibodies or a virus, it starts freaking out, shedding all of it's special "T4" thyroid hormones, which looks approximately like this:

Too much T4 shed into your bloodstream will intoxicate you. It puts you into a hypermetabolic state, turning you into an insane maniac that will eat everything in his/her path. You are also constantly freaked out and convinced that you are going to die.

Recovery has been a long, slow battle to be fought day-to-day, hour-to-hour, breath-to-breath. Hope and pray that you never have to know what hyperthyroidism feels like!

This week, I have been feeling okay (sort of. Except for the bone-weariness, sensitivity to temperatures, and the need to eat entire pizzas four times a day). Next week, who knows? I may feel 100%...or I may descend back to the depths of hell...it's carrying on waaaay longer than the internet says it's supposed to.

I shouldn't rely on the internet to solve my problems, but...the medical establishment denies that I even have a problem. They tell me it's "just stress" or a "bid for attention", or worse, that I am a drug addict. That would be funny if it weren't such an insulting falsehood.

So this is where the start of this blog finds me: trying to get better, and hoping I have nothing worse than a temporary inflammation of the thyroid (although if this is the case, I get to go HYPOthyroid next!).

No, it has nothing to do with Phnom Penh, but if I randomly die, this is probably the reason!

Why Cambodia Is More Awesome Than China

About a year ago, for reasons now lost to the pages of history, I decided I really, really, really wanted to teach English in China. So I bought a visa and a ticket for the next flight to Cambodia, where there was a TESOL training program.

I thought Cambodia was great starting from the time I wheeled my luggage off the carousel and crossed customs. Not great--fabulous. In a bubble of bliss, I came to and from teacher training each day. I joyfully shopped and ate at market each day. I learned a hundred words of Khmer and some numbers and spouted them off to everyone I met.

Then the month of training came to an end, and I grudgingly, tearfully, flew to Jining, China.

As far as grungy industrial Chinese cities go, I suppose Jining was up to snuff. But I'd look up at the perpetually grey skies and the Soviet-style warehouses that Chinese people call apartments...and I'd miss the vibrancy of Cambodia.

I'd look at the shit and vomit lining the streets of Jining; I'd spend hours locked in the bathroom because of E.coli-laced Chinese food...and I'd miss the personal cleanliness standards of Cambodians.

I'd parade around like a freak for the Chinese to point and laugh at...and I'd miss the subtle cosmopolitanism of Phnom Penh.

I became a scratching post for Chinese moms (who are literally the most savage people I've come across in my time, and this includes several Middle Eastern dictators), and hell, I missed the laid-back tolerance of the Khmer people.

So I came back. My situation deteriorated rather markedly in Jining, so I booked the first flight out of Jinan and came back to Phnom Penh. Like a refugee, I carried all I owned on my back and found myself living in makeshift accommodations.

And despite workplace drama, illness, thyroid inflammations, hunger, and ignorant people thinking I'm rich, I have not regretted my return to Cambodia. Not for one moment.

I am supposed to be here.

I say this not out of infatuation. It is core knowledge. For reasons that aren't immediately clear to me, I am somehow fated to be in this country. That's as close as I can come to explaining it.

I don't know how this will play out, or what my future holds. All I ask is that you stay with me, my readers. We will discover the answer together.

Before We Begin...

This blog is actually a continuation of my old one on travelblog.org. I started off with plans to travel, but seeing that I've lived in Phnom Penh for the last five months and haven't traveled at all, I figure the least I can do is set up a proper blog. Hopefully, one that's more user friendly and has better control over the visual aids.

Here is a link to my old one, if you'd like to know my back-story. It's in reverse chronological order: The adventures of a global drifter begin...

After a recent brush with my own mortality (which, as it turns out, wasn't actually all that dangerous, even though I was convinced that death was closing in all around me), I have decided that it would behoove me to leave a legacy.

Since I'm one of those odd American girls with no reservations about moving to developing countries for the heck of it, and since I haven't found a lot of other girls like me, I have come to the conclusion that the best thing I can do is leave a record of my experiences here.

Maybe I can inspire someone else to follow her dreams. Who knows?