Sunni Dawson

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Pyjamas, Obama and mosquitos!

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What is the common theme in these three very different subjects: pyjamas, Obama and mosquitoes? Nothing. Nothing at all.
 
But that is what filled my third and fourth days of writing. 
 
 

Day threeeeeeee

 
I awoke early from a peculiar dream. I dreamt I was staying at Obama’s house. We were watching TV in his big lounge room and there was an important election going on. I thought I needed to get comfortable, so I went and got into my comfy pyjamas.
 
The pyjamas of my dream – yes they are sheep! 🙂

 Light blue flannelette, baggy pyjamas. With love  hearts and little sheep jumping everywhere.

 
 In Obama’s house. On his lounge.
 
 In the President of the United States home. Me, in my sheepy, love hearted flannellette pyjamas! There were lots of people starting to gather around to watch the TV (not just Obama and Michelle, but some important advisers and other such peeps), and I thought to myself I should get dressed again. But then I thought, no, I am comfy!
 
 Me in my fluffy, sheepy, flannelette pyjamas. On Obama’s sofa.
 
 Seriously? I feel so embarrassed, and it was only a dream! 


The subsequent hours of writing were no less strange. Arriving to my ‘office’, people wanted to chat to me, I had frustrations with computer programs not doing what I wanted them to, more people distractions, Facebooking, emails, trying to connect with people and not being able to.
 
I realise I have low blood sugar, I eat. I want to eat more. A lot. I eat a walnut, sweet potato mashed burrito.  Followed by a banana cake. Then another thai tea latte on soy.
 
I think I might be getting my period soon. I feel skittish. I plan my dinner. I think a massage might help. I go for a walk. I decide I will get into my exercise routine next week. I chat to Belleza and decide the best thing for me to do is to go to bed early. So I do.
 
 
 

Day four of writing

 
The writing flows a bit better, that is, despite two very concerning matters, which I shall now turn to.
 
 

1. Remember Sunni, social norms vary from country to country. And that’s ok.

 
As I eat my breakfast, a lady is coughing up a quarter of her intestines. It sounds like she gets half of them out of her, eats them again and throws up a third of it once more. And then adds in a lung or two for good measure.
 
I try not to dry retch. I also don’t want to know about the hands that made my breakfast. At all. Its just not worth considering. 
 
I repeat to myself, I am in Thailand. Its okay. I have a strong constitution. 
 
 

2. Mosquitoes are mamas!

 


The second, more concerning thing of the day for me was I found out that the mosquitoes that eat people are all female. And they are sucking your blood to make eggs in their tiny tummies.
 
There are apparently over 3500 mosquito species, and not all suck blood. Most species get their nutrients from nectar and plant juices, as do all male mosquitoes in every species.
 
In the species that do suck blood, the females risk their lives so that they can produce babies. They are particularly attracted to Type O blood, (yes, that’s me), people with body heat, (tick), and those that are pregnant (thank god that isn’t me!!!).
 
I suddenly have a new appreciation of mosquitoes. I no longer want to kill them before they feed on me. I have never liked killing mosquitoes, despite their potentially deadly consequences, or even the annoyingly itchy consequences. Its one of the few things, I am ashamed to admit that I have had little remorse over harming or killing in the past (that probably makes me a bad vegan). But I have thought about it a lot. It hasn’t sat well with me.
 
Even worse, it makes me a horrible feminist. How can I kill potential mothers who are only seeking sustenance to make babies?

 
My new citronella repellant!

I decide immediately to buy insect repellant.

I lament over those poor female mosquitoes and their  eggs I have killed. 

 


Oh and by the way, yes, I came to Thailand without mosquito repellent. 

For all the mosquitoes I have killed.

The angel and the devil

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I had two very good friends give me two very different sets of advice on commencing this journey.

The first friend is a beautiful creative being to the core of her soul, spending the majority of her time creating exquisitenesses to explore the world around her which is both a mystical and real life exploration. Her advice to me, after I said would take a few days when I arrive to Thailand to recover:

‘Take a week. You can’t push creativity.’

My second friend, the most solid, grounded and pragmatic person I know, kept repeating the mantra as I was about to leave, ‘Keep the focus. Keep the focus.’ She remained silent when I said I would take the first few days to recover. And asked me ‘Remember what I said?’ 

‘Keep the focus. Right, got it!’


After landing, I did spend 4 days recovering, a necessary respite after the energiser bunny routine of the past months. My head also had 10,000 fingernails scratching at my blackboard mind preventing me from doing anything other than sleep, eat and float (which just happened to be in a delectable warm sea with sensational views).  

So after arriving to my island, I thought, right, gotta get into it. Keep the focus. Keep the focus.


First day of writing

My first day of writing. I woke up at 7am. Nice. Walked to the bare beach, sparsely decorated with Thai men in loose thai pants sweeping up with their handmade harsh straw brooms leaves, shells, debris of all sorts into piles, as methodically and specific as a bee collects pollen.

My feet touch the soft, white wet sand, feeling the gushy love of the warm waters as I plunged into her beauty.

By the time I arrived to my ‘office’ (photos in previous blog) it was around 10am. Nice.

I decided that launching straight into book writing would be a little too confronting for my first day, so I start with this blog. Perfect excuse to fiddle around with colours and photos.


Bliss is in here!


I order my favourite vegan banana cake, and a traditional thai tea latte on soy. I am in bliss. This of course takes at least an hour to fully enjoy.







The joy of being in my favourite cafe is peppered with more delight by meeting a new friend, Gabe. Its Gabe’s third time on the island too. A fellow first time writer. Also here to write a book and here for six months. A vegan and yoga buff. Co-incidence? Perhaps. But the beautiful symmetry certainly makes me feel more centered. 

Its now about 1.45pm. Have I written anything? Not really.

Traditional Thai Tea on Soy…
Flower art from Benny

You can’t push creativity.

Yes, that’s right. But then I must keep the focus. I can’t just enjoy myself at this cafe, can I?

So I let myself simply write on the topics that came to my mind rather than attempt to structure an unstructured mind. I write randomly and it gives me some sense of satisfaction.

Here is my first day picture. Looking for inspiration obviously!! 🙂










Day 2 of writing

I woke up at 5.18am. It was still dark in my little hut. Floods of images and thoughts from previous months flashed around my brain like fireworks on Loy Krathong.  I was not setting an alarm specifically for the purpose of allowing my body to wake up when it felt it needed to, in a restful and peaceful manner. Ok brain, calm down ok? 

Have you ever told a dog after you put a lead on her, and she knows the smell-full delights ahead, to calm down, relax and wait a minute? My mind is that dog, jumping up and down, drooling, chasing my tail in excited anticipation of… well I don’t know.

I have tried meditation sporadically over the last decade, reaching for it when I desperately needed to quieten my 2 year old on red cordial mind. It hasn’t been a consistent practice, but I’ve enjoyed the somewhat calm and settling effects on my body when I’ve tried.

I reach for that now. I attempted to meditate a few mornings the week before I left for this adventure. Emptying my overflowing mind at that time was like trying to eat a whole pavlova by myself in one sitting! So much to eat and so many big delicious experiences to process and reflect on.

Today was no different. Then I remembered I had some guided meditations  on my phone. I put one on. I suddenly had a strong thirst for water (I had just consumed half a bottle). I then had to sit up. Then lie down. Then sit up again.

Sunni, stop distracting yourself. Just ‘So hum’. Breathe in, ‘soooooo’. Breathe out ‘Huummmmmmm’.

The images and gnawing thoughts lessened.

The meditation completed. I felt relaxed.

I drifted off to sleep as the rain fell onto my tin roofed hut. 

I awoke again at 8.43am. 

Oh no! What about my routine? What about THE FOCUS? 

But remember, you can’t push creativity.

So I got up and gently rocked in my hammock watching the sea. Yes, you can’t push creativity…. 

I rocked up to my cafe at 11-ish. And to enjoy the moment even further, Benny taught me how to make paper serviette flowers! So sweet. Of course they had to be accompanied by chocolate cake.

Here is a picture of our (mainly his creations!):





       Yes, you cannot push creativity.





The delectable vegan chocolate cake!

Arriving to my island

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Arriving to my island, I am greeted by a myriad of ‘taxi’ services at the pier. The taxis vary from mad motorbike men who insist they can carry me, my 23 kg back backpack, my 12kg front backpack and my other handheld bag on a one seater motorcycle, to bushbashing Songthaews… (such a pretty name for a truck!). You have to throw yourself into a Songthaew, scrambling with your bags and hang on for dear life as it traverses around sharp bends, at the same time clutching your luggage to spare it from flying off the sides of roads, and if you’re lucky, a cliff or two. They are all insisting I go with them. I pound past them all with my 36 kgs of weight somewhat attached, somewhat hanging off my body.


I walk to the main street and I am greeted by a woman taxi driver. 

She tells me in her broken english, ‘Normally one person to Haad Yao 1500 Baht’.

I step back with a disgusted face. ‘No way! That is ridiculous. I have been here before.’

‘No, no, listen, because quiet, one person 400 Baht.’

‘No way.’ My disgust is clear. ‘200 Baht.’

‘You say 200 Baht. I say 400 Baht. We make it 300 Baht.’

‘No way. 250Baht. That’s it. I’ve been here many times before.’

‘No, it long way. I am by myself woman. I try to make business. If you go back in there (motioning to the ferry ‘taxi’ services) they will make problems for me. I only do 300 Baht and not pick anyone up on way. Just you. Straight to your bungalow.’

I am a sucker for a woman trying to make her way in a man’s world.  ‘Ok then.’

‘300 Baht’ she said eagerly.

‘Yes, ok.’ I climb in the back half stumbling over my bags and half pushing them in.


Arriving to my bungalow…


My bungalow
Belleza (her english-ified name, she was given by a western woman many years before that has stuck ever since due to her big, bubbling, beautiful, warm, hospitable self) greeted me with a big gushy, strong, warm hug. Two of them in fact. I thought she wouldn’t let me go. She did briefly so I could pay my taxi woman who hadn’t stopped talking thai since we pulled up.

Belleza exclaimed, ‘So happy you come back! How long you stay this time? Me think you lost weight. Not so fat. Must be the vegetables.’

I smiled, trying to appreciate the compliment in the way it was intended. I have actually put on weight. 
Inside my bungalow
My hammock & balcony





View from my balcony & bed!








Going to my office…

The following day after a delectable ocean swim, beach walk and good food, I start the walk to my favourite ‘office’ of all time. A stunning tree surrounded cafe with high bamboo ceilings, low tables, beautiful art and books, and most importantly, great wifi. Its a few blood pumping hills walk away from my bungalow. As I commenced my first walk, a motorcycle pulled up.

‘Sunni, so great to see you again!’ Grabbing my hand, she couldn’t seem to stop her tight grip throughout the whole conversation. 

‘How are you? How long you stay?’ She looked intently in my eyes… ‘I have been not so good. I had a major motor bike accident. Look.’ She pointed to the scaring that slurred her eyes and mouth. The substantial scaring over her left arm and leg looked horiffic.

‘So happy you are back. I love your laugh. Good to see you.’ And waving her arms about with emphasis, ‘Welcome to Koh Phangan!’

As I climbed on the back of the motorbike, she glanced back in fear. She bravely dropped me at my cafe. 


Meeting Benny again…

 
My office

Arriving at my cafe, my office, Benny was behind the counter looking at his phone.


‘Sa wa dee kaaa’

 ‘Sa wa dee krap’ he didn’t look up. As I moved towards a table and he looked up.
‘Oh my god!! You come back!!!’

He excitedly rushed from behind the counter, to give me big hug. He is a gentle, lovely, short, open faced young man who fled his country to send money back to his family at home, who live in poverty and poor health. There are many Burmese on this Thai island doing the same.

My office

 He exclaimed: ‘I’m so happy to see you. This is    the best day, because I see you again!’, and a bit  later, ’The sun came out today because of you!’ Benny, you are too kind.

We catch up on the state of his family, he was sad because his sister recently married so young at 18. And this has also meant the money that he was saving to help his parents with their very poor falling down shack of a home had to be spent on his sister. ‘But not to worry, I save again now, in two more years I can make their home a bit better’.


He asked, ‘How long are you here for?’ 

‘I am here for a long time.’

‘Years’ he eagerly replied.

Laughing, ‘No, months, but that’s a long time!’.
My office

It certainly is good to be back!

Initial trepidations!

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So my journey to my new life begins with Etihad airlines. A sheek, high quality service, super comfortable, airline. The prayer in Arabic at the start of the flight takes me to another place, and I am drawn to listen to the resonating, deep voices of readings from the Quran on one of the radio stations. Such a beautiful language to listen to!


As I sit watching the clouds, the emotions start flooding in, the ones I’ve pushed aside for past months of intense organising. An exhausted ‘I’ve done it’, closely followed by ‘Oh shit.’ I’ve committed myself to this now. I distract myself by watching random episodes of Modern Family. 

Exiting the plane at 9.45pm in Koh Samui, I reel back from the smack of humidity. Luckily my friend convinced me to pre-book a taxi since I was arriving so late. The airconditioned comfort was a needed respite. 

The taxi left me with my 35 kgs of luggage that I carried on my front, back and off the sides, my shoes slipping along a dark, wet gravel path, towards the Thai ‘resort’ (a very loose term in Thailand). 

‘Sa wa de kaaaa’ I yelled out at the very closed and dark reception. I’m not really sure what I’d hoped for.

The practical me observed how far it was to the main road and other potential accommodation options (all of which looked very shut as we whizzed past). I left the majority of my luggage and walked towards some dim lights glowing from some shacks about 200 metres away. It was, after all, about 10.30pm at night in quiet season.

I spot a young, slim Thai woman hanging out some clothing. I approached.

‘Sa wa de kaaaa’ 

‘Sa wa de kaaa’

‘Reception’ I pointed to the humid dark mist.

‘One minute’ holding up one finger.

‘Kop kun kaaa’

She finds her phone and begins calling a number. Another curious face pokes her head out the door, wanting a glimpse of the intruder. She giggles.

‘Sa wa deee kaaaa’

Smiling back, ’Sa wa deee kaaa. One minute’

‘Kop kun kaaaa’


The first woman says ‘Come, come’ and I am lead to another house. A small woman, but with the presence of someone who knows what she is doing, comes out, looking at me with light suspicion.

Her face relaxed on the sounds of my ‘Sa wa de kaaa’.

I explain my lateness and that friend recommended me to come here. She relaxes more and says you can have this hut, 500 Baht, but tomorrow a 400 Baht room will be available.

I enter into the bungalow. Oh my god, I’m here. I’m really here. The drabness, aged 70 style walls and bed sheets, creaky floorboards and the bathroom. The bathroom.  A wet, slippery haven of adventure. Shower in the middle, pointed over the toilet. The toilet with the complementary hose.

Not exactly a resort, as you can see.


But I am here. Without western conveniences. With hard beds and pillows. And drab huts.


I went to sleep to the sounds of dripping water, and knowing, this is why I am here, to be closer to the rain than in sanitised apartments and buildings, where only if you look outside can you see its raining.


The floor ‘boards’


The slightly excessive amount of luggage I carry!














I awake to the sounds of Thai women gently moving the tables and chairs into line, dogs sounding their turf, and the calls of birds yet unfamiliar to me.

Floods of images from the past weeks of my life overtake my mind, the beautiful connections I’ve made, the tough times, the times with friends, and the tiredness.

The excitement of what I am now doing begins to meander its way in.

I am doing this! I am here… its starting!!!

But first, some more sleep before I make it to my final travel destination. 


And maybe a $10 massage or two.





And to enjoy this view.

I’m now a…. writer?

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I made a big decision. To quit my job, to pack up my new life in a new city and go write for a few months (maybe more) in Thailand. 

And I did this in about 6 weeks.

I kinda like speed. No use waiting for the right time, I think making a decision and then acting on it as soon as possible is ideal (obviously timing and commitments play a big part for a lot of people, I am fortunate not to have too many of those in my life right now!).

So packing up a life, saying goodbye (again) to friends and family that I so enjoyed connecting with over the past year was difficult. Quitting the job wasn’t. I hadn’t really settled in ‘the’ job for the past 6 months since moving to my new city. 

My massive problem with work is that I am interested in so many things. I can practically enjoy most work, as long as I can see intrinsic social value, which when you get down to it, is all occupations and jobs. I love in particular strategic planning and big picture development of organisations. I love getting to quickly understand an organisation, get to know its work and developing plans to progress its future. 

Having a background in law helps my focused, analytical, risk based thinking. My background in community legal centres (legal aid type work) has developed my patience, engagement and social value focuses. I have fortunately been pushed through circumstances to try new things. I was hesitant in my 20s to change jobs (due loyalty and fear predominantly). Now I can’t get enough change and more expansive work experiences. I incorporate new ideas, frameworks, knowledge and inspiration from different areas into whatever job I am in. And I love it.

But I just didn’t find that fit in Melbourne. And I know its just time till getting that position that clicks and ticks all the boxes (for both me and the organisation I work for).


So I thought since I am not yet entrenched into ‘that’ job yet, I should go and do what I really want to be doing (for this time anyway – my passions for other types of work have not less diminished, I just have this thing I want to do now!).

Another factor was when I was working for an organisation recently, I completely reorganised, restructured and simplified their major work for the next couple of years. I thought if I can do that for a whole organisation, I should be doing that for my life. And so I asked myself what it is I most want to achieve right now?

The answer: writing a book. Or two. Oh, and a screenplay, not to mention a few blogs. (I’m not one to do things in halves! 🙂

I wanted to write after work and on the weekends. The problem with my personality is that when I focus on something, I give it 130%. Or more. This means that after work I am too tired to write or be creative in the ways I want to be creative. Also, I like seeing friends  and family after work and on weekends and relaxing and enjoying life. Although writing is very enjoyable to me, I left little space to do it in. 

And I am not one of those super people. You know the type. They work full time, study a masters part time, are a parent and coach their girl’s basketball team.

I only have me. And I still can’t fit in time to write. And I’ve tried. It just hasn’t happened.

So I need special time. Yes, indulgent, special time.

This indulgent, special time is costly. I didn’t have a lot saved (due to coming back from a 2 year long trek around the world a year previously). But then I got a $4000 tax refund. And I thought to myself, ‘Well that’s enough to survive well for few months in Thailand’, (there is no way I could do that in Australia).

Worse case scenario

You know, if it doesn’t work, if I run out of money, that’s ok. I go home, get a job and see what new adventures awaits me. I can contribute to the world in so many more ways. There isn’t any loss.

The real worst case scenario is not doing this. Not giving it a go, not finding out. Not making my heart sing every morning from the joy of creating. And the joy of being in this space. The joy of knowing how lucky I am to be alive. And doing this.
So here I am, a privileged white foreigner writing a book (or two) in a beautiful Thai Island. 


There could be worse situations.