Now back in busy busy Kirdford, I wasn’t sure whether to keep writing or not; partially because my two biggest blog readers already know everything that happens here, and partially because, well, nothing happens here. But I don’t just want to leave it to rot all summer, and besides, it turns out there is a life outside of Asia after all.
At first, it was strange and disconcerting to be back here - where are the motorbike horns, what is this birdsong and wide open spaces, why does no one heckle me when I go for a run, why is there no soup lady outside my front door?! At first, at least once I'd got over the excitement of seeing the family and dog, I didn't really like being back. (I've never really spent much time in this house even when I lived in England, so it didn't feel much like "coming home".) But after a few days, I have come to appreciate the positive sides of the English countryside. Sussex is beautiful! Especially in the full bloom of summer... I might take a photo at some point.
The best part about being at home is all our animals. No one gives me unconditional love like my dog does, and we spent happy hours today rolling around in the grass whispering sweet nothings to each other. I can also visit our pet pigs, who tackle me with eighteen stone of piggy love and get snout slime all over my leggings (in case it's not clear, this is a good thing.) One of our alpacas is pregnant, so we expect a bow-legged fluffy camelid any day now. Tomorrow my mum is getting goats for the first time, so I don’t know what to expect with them, whether they’ll be friendly or bitey or nervous. But goats are pretty cool either way. Other pet-related news: Stripey’s dying, Spotty’s not, Puff’s completely deaf and nearly blind, and we have a bantam with an 80’s hairdo to accompany the sexy chicken who has to live on her own because the Cocky-Doo kept sexing her and she almost died of exhaustion.
I even went to an actual city yesterday, even if it was Chichester. The sights and the sounds almost overwhelmed me after the social void of Kirdford. I got another ear piercing, bought some inappropriate shoes, and went to see some peregrine falcons in the cathedral. The chicks were almost ready to fly from the battlements of the cathedral (do cathedrals have battlements? I mean those pointy bits in the tower, whatever, there were falcon chicks in there) so it was an exciting time.
I also learnt more about what the RSPB does and basically they’re really awesome. The Indonesian government were selling off large portions of the Sumatran jungle, which is the last remaining habitat of some 200 Sumatran tigers, in order that it could be cut down and turned into paper. The RSPB outbid the Chinese government (!) to buy the land, but then obviously didn’t want to turn it into paper; they’d rather let the Sumatran tigers do their thing. The Indonesian government weren’t happy about this, said it was against the law not to cut it down (?). So the guys from the RSPB flew the relevant Indonesian government official to London, wined him and dined him. and convinced him to change the law so that the Sumatran jungle was allowed to survive. So the tigers have their habitat and 200 of them survive – this is apparently the critical number, with just enough genetic material to maintain the species and allow them to be bred in the future. Basically the RSPB used political clout to save an entire species. They are able to do this because they have more members than all the British political parties put together. Go RSPB!
So after my jaunt with the peregrine falcons, I caught a bus to Petersfield to see Nolly!! Joy!! Joy and cider and curry. Excellent!!
This evening I had curry again. Excellent!!
Sorry if this blog isn’t as interesting when it’s just about England. Actually I’ve noticed that there are lot of interesting English culture things, as much as interesting Vietnamese or Lao culture things. Like men in flat caps, rollies, cobbled streets, being called “me love” or “darlin”, goths, curry... I like it!
