2012 announcement

Hello faithful blog fans!

I am super excited to announce that the year 2012 will see my return to Asia, this time working in China.  From February onwards, I will be based in Shanghai, teaching young learners and will have the luxury of two consecutive days off – hoorah!  More tall tales from the Far East to come… depending upon Chinese internet connection and access to Blogspot!

For now 再见

A xx

Homeward bound

As my time in Vietnam comes to a close, I’m packing up my suitcase and heading home to catch up with family and friends before Christmas.  The past twelve months have been a great learning curve and I feel I now know far more about the TEFL industry, Vietnam and myself: having grown in more ways than I could ever have imagined before setting off on this journey.

A hot and humid, but amazingly diverse year with immense highs and lows, great food, awful chocolate, frustrating and amusing situations – in equal amounts, wonderful travel destinations and vast quantities of quirky moments: some of which I hope you have enjoyed sharing with me.

All in all it’s been a great way to temporarily satisfy my travel bug (which constantly works away in my brain space adding more ‘must see’ destinations to its list).  I’ve travelled to all the major destinations in ‘Nam as well as seeing some of Cambodia: as I’ve already said, somewhere I’d never envisaged visiting.

I wish I could thank all the people who have contributed to making the past year so unique, in ways they could never understand: from warm hearted strangers on the street to colleagues and close friends.  All of whom have contributed to restoring my faith in people.  The management at my school have been fantastic, the professional development opportunities far exceeded my expectations, and thanks for making me feel like The Queen of the Jumpies!

The smiles and laughs my students have given me were worth all the hours of planning and preparation (not to mention perspiration!) – I just hope they continue to learn from the foundation I have given them.  I am sad to leave, but keen to see old friends again and excited about the new ones I will make in the future.

What next year holds no one knows, but I can guarantee I will be back with yet more travel tales to raise a smile, and a few eyebrows.  Be sure to check in from time to time for more updates.  For now, it’s goodbye swimwear and sunglasses, hello socks and central heating!  What am I most worried about?  Reverse culture shock?  My extremities turning blue due to the UK winter and my poor circulation?  No – it’s suppressing the urge to walk between endless streams of traffic and having to learn my green cross code again! TBC…

Much love and thanks for reading.

TTFN!

A xx

Teachers’ Day

Dubbed as ‘awesome’ by one of our managers at a recent meeting, we’d heard lots about this day.  The 20th November every year marks teachers’ day in Vietnam.  A lot is made of this in Vietnamese schools, with students preparing to spoil their teachers with gifts and hold large assemblies to honour their educators.

With weekends being our busiest time it was convenient that this year Teachers’ Day fell on a Sunday.  Four classes later I came away with money, flowers, toiletries, a handbag, coffee and telescopic laser pointer pen: quite possibly the best teaching gadget ever.  I spent all day getting the attention of dawdling students by flashing the laser around and indicating to things on the whiteboard using the extending pointer: tons of fun.  Flowers were a popular gift all round, much to my male colleagues’ disgust!

A xx

Củ Chi: confined conditions

Having read quite a bit about the resourcefulness and sheer determination of the Vietnamese people during the American War, I felt it was only right I pay a visit to Củ Chi during my time in Saigon.  For the uneducated out there, these vast multi-level tunnel networks, covering more than 250km were home to thousands of Việt cộng soldiers.  They were also inhabited by such beasties as spiders, snakes and scorpions, and the lack of light and reduced air flow only added to the uncomfortable surroundings.

 

Bearing all this in mind, I jumped on a coach and prepared myself for some terrifying tunnel trauma.

Upon our arrival, our guide explained the complexities of building such tunnels, the three layer system, necessary air vents, exits to the Saigon river: it all seemed very well thought out and dare I say it, almost civilised.  After further explanations about the effects of agent orange and napalm bombs, we watched a video showing guerrillas preparing ‘uniforms’, making sandals from old car tyres and placing booby traps, in carefully chosen locations, on which to impale and injure the enemy.

Next, we were shown a narrow concealed entrance to a level 1 tunnel and were given the opportunity to enter.  Naturally, I fancied a go and jumped in like a rabbit down a warren.  Placing the cover over my head, it was difficult for others to see where I had gone.

Now you see me... 

...now you don't!!

After a comprehensive explanation of the various booby traps employed by the Việt cộng, we were taken to the tunnels.  The section of tunnel that is now open to the public has various ‘escape’ points.  Having heard the tunnel has been made larger to accommodate fuller framed Western visitors, I was pleasantly surprised walking down the steps… only to be met with a tiny tunnel ahead.  On my hands and knees I made my way through, almost immediately noticing the heat and lack of fresh air.  How people stayed below ground for so long eludes me.

 

I have often wondered what memories are concealed behind the tired, worn eyes of the older generation of Vietnamese people.  Each, no doubt, have their own harrowing memories of the war and all that it brought to this country.  After a short sample of those confined tunnel conditions I have a whole new level of respect for the people who fought for their country with such selflessness and unquestionable patriotism in frankly frightful conditions.

A xx

Learning right from wrong… and left

Last weekend a strange thing happened during my second class of the day.  One of my students, on task and thoroughly absorbed in her writing, sat scrawling using her left hand; something virtually unknown in these parts.  As children, ‘lefties’ are instructed to go against all natural instincts and use their ‘right’ (in both senses of the word) hand.

Rumour has it; parents take it in to their own hands to solve this problem until their children learn to use their ‘right’ hand.  I’ve witnessed my Jumpstart pupils picking up pencils, crayons and board markers with their dominant ‘wrong’ hand, only to correct themselves and struggle on with the other.

Western ‘lefty’ colleagues are ridiculed by all and sundry – be it the teaching assistants, students or laundry ladies as they write their name on receipts.  It’s something people openly guffaw at and see as circus-like.

Thank you to the parent’s of my ‘lefty’ student for restoring my faith in modern Vietnamese parenting: there is hope.

A xx

Cockadoodle-don’t you dare!

During one of my days off this week I was rudely awoken at 4:15am by the sound of a cockerel crowing.  This is nothing new here in ‘Nam, during my first week in the country my accommodation was arranged by the school.  Unfortunately, they opt to house all of their new teachers in a guesthouse on one of the busiest roads in the heart of backpackerland.  Not only do you have to deal with the noise from the traffic, drunken party revellers and locals shouting in the beautiful tonal language that is Vietnamese, but you may also find your neighbours own one of these god forsaken birds.  Cock fighting is common in these parts, so you can expect to see many cockerels strutting down alleyways, tethered by bailing twine or trapped inside wicker basket prisons on the pavement.

So, in the wee small hours, bearing all this in mind I very calmly surfaced from my bed, closed the bathroom window and door, managed to ram my ear plugs in to the appropriate orifices and placed my pillow over my head.  It seemed to do the job, until 6:00am, when the bird got a second wind and resumed crowing.

Now, I like my sleep and having already been disturbed two hours previously I was not to be messed with.  This time, I very calmly surfaced from my bed, opened the bathroom window and door, managed to ram the shower head out of the appropriate gap in the window and turned my shower on full.  It seemed to do the trick, the bird ceased squawking; however, the shrill, tonal shouting from one of my neighbours was something I hadn’t bargained on.  C’est la vie – I call it karma: you wake me up, I’ll wake you up a little more!

Surprisingly, the sound of silence resonated over night until I woke naturally the following morning at around 9:00am – bliss.

A xx

Happy Halloween

Yes, even here in ‘Nam there is no escape from the Pagan harvest festival.  Ok, so we know every man and his dog ‘celebrates’ Halloween as an excuse to dress up as a disembowelled zombie or the like, but it all seemed a little strange doing so here.

Jumpstart fancy dress competition

The school make a big thing of it, encouraging the Jumpstarts to attend lessons wearing fancy dress costumes, whilst Junior, Senior and Elite classes make posters, carve pumpkins and write poems respectively.  It’s a nice touch, but can go a little too far.  As part of the weekend’s celebrations we were instructed to take our Junior classes (6 – 10 year olds) to the Haunted Halloween House (a.k.a. two of our largest classrooms with an retractable adjoining wall, suitably decorated).

I have two Junior classes, one of which has a very small, timid, although extremely clever six year old student.  I have likened him to Rainman in the past and see big things ahead of him in the future; or I did before he was subjected to the Haunted Halloween House!

Upon entering the ‘house’ (armed with my camera to catch some magic moments), we watched a video showing scary screaming faces etc, after which one of the Teaching Assistants, who had donned a witch’s mask, black cape and green, warty monster hands burst through a black curtain, popped a balloon in my students’ faces and quickly fled.  You can imagine how much screaming and grabbing of random limbs took place on the part of my students.

Now, trying to get 18 young learners towards the looming darkness and fake cobwebs/plastic spiders hanging from the ceiling of the next section took some effort: from both myself and my teaching assistant.  I didn’t know I was capable of walking with 3 children pulling against each of my limbs, but we got there in the end after persuading them it may be scarier to turn back, than to carry on to the exit.

Having made our way past numerous office staff dressed as corpse brides, zombies etc we reached the final section.  When Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ started to play the kids seemed to calm a little, until the green lighting highlighted the outlines of an army of zombie corpses that were approaching!  By this point my students all recoiling to the corner of the room, trying to make themselves as small and unnoticeable as possible.  Also by this point, I regained full control of my limbs and took the opportunity to capture this magic moment on my camera for posterity!  The lollipop rewards upon our exit made it all worthwhile and fifteen minutes later all was forgotten… until bed time no doubt!

  

The flash from my camera added a nice 'lightning' effect,

but sadly doesn't reflect the true ambience of the room! 

A xx

When two worlds collide

It’s always nice to be reminded of home… if sometimes a little strange.  Mr Amy’s visits have been most welcomed, but also a little surreal.  My life here is so vastly different from the UK and being reminded of those differences readies me a little for the reverse culture shock I’m mentally preparing myself for when I return to the UK in December.

 

A couple of weeks ago, I was contacted by an old university friend.  He and his girlfriend (whom I also know from our student days) were travelling South East Asia before heading off to Australasia.  HCMC would form part of their route and they were keen to meet up.  Fantastic; some fresh, friendly and familiar faces to add to the mix.

 

A little surreal at first, some people you just associate with certain spaces.  In the dark recesses of my mind, these guys should be standing in our dimly lit student union bar on a Saturday night, with a pint of snakebite in hand, not using chopsticks and drinking Saigon green!  Nevertheless, awesome to catch up with them, reminisce about our tax dodging years and add a few new memories to the mix.

 

Happy travels you lucky pair, I’m not jealous at all!

A xx

Decline to recline

As I sit on the bus from Sihanoukville to Phnom Penh I pen this post.  I feel there should be a new international law implemented.  Having travelled much of Australia, New Zealand, Vietnam and Cambodia by coach, this is something I’ve experienced on numerous occasions over the years.  Indeed, not only on coaches: in cars, planes and even ferries.

 

What is she rambling on about I hear you say: Reclining a seat when someone’s pert posterior is perched on the place behind.  Being 5’10” has its advantages, but also a fair few down sides: meeting men tall enough to consider dating, finding trousers that aren’t hoisted at half mast up your calves as if you’re mourning the death of their designer; and cramped leg room in public spaces.

 

So here’s the deal.  I pay for my ticket, jump onboard, get comfy and the clown in front (who is usually 5' f*** all) decides they’re now incapable of normal homosapian posture, instead choosing to adopt a horizontal position and attempt to amputate my lush long legs from the knees down.  If said comedian speaks English you can at least explain your situation, which 99% of the time will be resolved quickly and painlessly for all parties.

 

If, however, you are faced with confronting a non-English speaker: good luck.  During our previous bus ride, Mr Amy found himself sitting behind a middle-aged Cambodian woman, who attempted to recline her chair, only to be met by his knees and 2’ framed oil painting.  After getting her attention and making the appropriate gestures towards long legs and oversized souvenirs, she still wasn’t budging.

 

As a scenario I find particularly frustrating, inconsiderate and unnecessary, Amy rage ensued.  It doesn’t happen that often, especially here as Asia teaches you to let a lot of things slide; but when it does rear its head, you’d better watch out.  Pounding my fist on the back of her headrest repeatedly soon sorted her out.

 

A xx

Then it was on to Phnom

From Siem Reap we headed down to the country’s capital, Phnom Penh.  Having heard mixed reviews about the place I arrived with fairly low expectations of somewhere I envisaged to be a smaller version of Saigon.  Thankfully, my theory was disproved: a smaller, cleaner, quieter and slower paced city it was far from being ‘Nam-like.

 

With a couple of days at our disposal we first head up to Wat Phnom, a temple at the highest point of the city, it marks the sight of the first pagoda (which no longer stands here).  Taking time to visit the Independence monument, markets and river front promenade, we enjoyed the relaxed pace and virtually hassle-free environment.

Chanchhaya pavillion

The National Museum

The National museum was next on our to-do list.  Housing hundreds of ‘finds’ from the Angkor period: everything from imposing statues of Kymer Kings to tiny artefacts, jewellery and pottery.  Other city sights included the Independence monument, Chanchhaya pavilion and waterfront.  By night the capital comes alive with restaurants, bars and locals enjoying views of the waterfront and attending aerobics classes on the promenade.  Whilst wandering back to our hotel through Wat Botum park (yes, really) we stumble upon a small crowd, gathered to watch the musical fountain and light show: that wouldn’t have looked out of place in New York or Barcelona.

 Statue of Heng, the sacred golden bird

It has to be said though that the highlight of our stay was Mr Amy’s fantastic find - Cadbury chocolate!  A friend had tipped me off that it is sold over the border and after keeping my eyes open I had almost given up hope of finding it: after 10 months of tasteless treats I was elated when my taste buds rediscovered Cadbury crunchie and marble!

Something I have so far failed to mention is that English Language is prevalent everywhere in Cambodia.  All signs appear in Cambodian and English, some even in Chinese and Korean.  Most are accurate, but this one did raise a smile.

Nearly everyone we came across seemed to have a fairly good command of spoken English.  It is rare to have good banter with Vietnamese people.  Things get lost in translation or taken literally, if understood at all.  Here, however, I find myself having a good giggle with two young lads, each attempting to sell books to tourists.  I tell the first, “no thanks, I can’t read”, as I peruse my copy of The Lonely Planet.  Needless to say, he fully understood the satirical nature of my response.  With the second, I tell him I am currently reading two books and can buy them cheaper in Vietnam.  He asks how much I pay in dong and accurately converts the same price to US dollars.  When I enquire if the photograph of an attractive young girl on the side of his book stand is his girlfriend, I receive the reply, “No money, no honey!”

 

After seeing the sights of the city we head down to the south coast and Sihanoukville, home of the country’s finest beaches: or so they say.  Having seen a fair few amazing beaches during my travels, I found Serendipity beach rather disappointing.  Maybe I’m a beach snob, but this was not the paradise many make it out to be.  After spending a couple of days doing a whole lot of nothing, we found ourselves heading back over the border to the land of ‘Nam.

 

Big thumbs up for Cambodia, and another country ticked off my list.

A xx

Campuchia!

 

With Mr Amy and I back on the same continent for a few weeks (and with a fortnight of my five weeks paid annual leave remaining), we decided to venture out of ‘Nam and see what lay over the border in Cambodia.  I have to admit, this is the last place I had ever envisaged visiting.  The mere mention of this country often holds with it very negative connotations from recent history.  However, numerous colleagues and backpacker associates (Yes that means you Mr Dignan – I hope you’re satisfied now, I promised you’d get a mention at some point!) have nothing but good things to say about the place, so we wanted to see it for ourselves.

 

Our ten day trip would take us to Siem Reap and the indescribably beautiful Temples of Angkor Wat, then on to Phnom Penh, before some quiet beach time in Sihanoukville.  We decide to get the worse part over first – the 12 hour journey from HCMC to Siem Reap.  Crossing the border I was immediately struck by the difference between Cambodian and Vietnamese people: Cambodians appear taller, with darker skin tone, fuller features, better dental care and happier demeanour.

 

Having taken a friends advice, we’d booked a hotel out of town.  Upon our arrival, I spot a smiley local holding a sign bearing my name.  Bowing his head and holding his hands together in a prayer position he welcomes us and introduces himself: this is Rhoun, our tuk tuk driver.  I feel a little like the Sex and the City girls during their trip to Abu Dhabi in the second film of the same name, only minus the killer heels and Dior petticoat.

 

The following morning, Rhoun greets us at breakfast and suggests an itinerary for the day.  First stop – the old market.  After successfully bartering, we walk away with paintings, wooden carvings, jewellery and a few other keepsakes.  Unlike ‘Nam, the stuff here is tasteful, well made and reflects Kymer culture and history.

 

After a trip out of town to see traditional stilt houses, we head for the war museum.  Having decided not to visit the Killing Fields or S21 Genocide museum in Phnom Penh, we feel a short visit here is only right.  Our guide is a 40-something who started fighting aged 14.  As he walks around, demonstrating how each weapon was used, he reveals his amputated limb, shrapnel from land mines and scars from bullets he wasn’t lucky enough to dodge.  Now a widower, after his wife and eldest daughter were fatally injured by land mines a mere 5 years ago, he is a reminder of how the people of this country are still suffering, with little help from a government who don’t fully understand the medical conditions and mental torture suffered as a result of selfless bravery.

 

From the sensitive to the celebrated: As a proud nation, Angkor is everywhere - on the National flag, banknotes and local beer; architecture from the temples of Angkor Wat influences modern constructions and interior design.  Having seen photographs and maps of the site, it was the most keenly anticipated part of our trip.  The overcast day was a blessing as even Lara Croft would have broken a sweat during 6 hours of temple trekking in full South East Asian sunshine.

 

First up was East Mebon, with 3 impressive towers on top of a raised plateau. Next, Ta Prohm; famously featured in the Tomb Raider film and iconic due to the giant writhing ancient trees entwined around the temple.  Bayon followed, where 216 gargantuan faces of Avalokiteshvara watch your every move.   After your second or third temple you become a little blasé about it all – it’s more of the same… until you reach Angkor Wat.  I am incapable of adequately describing this, which for a linguist is kind of a big deal.  To attempt to, would be doing it an injustice.  I doubt any photographer in the world could do this place justice, these photos offer a vague glimpse.

 Ta Prohm

 Bayon

 Angkor Wat

 Angkor Wat

 Stone carvings at Angkor Wat

North Gate of Angkor Thom

 

Having watched a documentary about the design and building techniques supposedly employed during the creation of the temples, it is even more impressive.  No form of mortar was used, stone carvings were overlaid with gold and moats constructed by skilled stoneworkers working alongside carpenters who build the surrounding houses and communal buildings.  It’s a place that both impresses and dumbfounds you.

 

Overnight, torrential rain added to already high water levels in the river which runs through Siem Reap, causing extensive flooding throughout the town centre.  Luckily, our hotel was on higher ground and remained unaffected, but we headed into town the following day to see it for ourselves, only to be met by soap actor Tom Oliver aka Lou Carpenter from ‘Neighbours’ wading in shin deep water!

 

Speaking to the staff at our hotel the morning of our departure, I was amazed by their carefree attitude towards the recent flooding.  One told us how his rented property was now completely flooded, all he could do was raise his bed up on bricks and come to work to earn money for the repairs.  Apparently, the same thing happened in 2002 and 2010.  I have a feeling it may be an annual occurrence.

 

A xx

Super-drugs!

Working in such a large school with so many children around, it’s no surprise that germs spread like wild fire.  Add to this the fact that Vietnamese adults also seem incapable of covering their mouths when they cough or sneeze and it’s little wonder that the teachers are constantly battling bugs.  Between the kids in the class with their 10 dinky digits thrust up their nostrils at every opportune moment (usually just before they try to hold you hand) and parents waiting outside in the corridors, you’d need a force field to fend off all the little nasties (germs that is, not children!)

 

Having suffered from a fair few bouts of the common cold upon my arrival here in November, my body seems to have accepted and dare I say it embraced the change in climate; high levels of polluted, humid air and basic hygiene standards that the city throws at you.  Between the street food and young learners my immune system should be impenetrable now: I’m convinced when I return to the UK I’ll be invincible!

 

Or so I thought… until last week.  The first sign came when a couple of my colleagues sat at their desks armed with enough tablets and potions to turn Merlin himself green with envy.  When this happens, you can be fairly sure the air conditioning (inadequate as it is at times) will work well enough to evenly distribute these germs all around the staff room.  And yes, there we have it – you have a small epidemic on your hands: literally!  If you happen to escape the germs, you’ll probably be asked to cover lessons for teachers who have called in sick, which then leads to exhaustion and subsequent sick days for yourself: it’s a catch 22.  Anyway, I digress: a sleepless night later, having woken up on the hour every hour and being seemingly incapable of inhaling through my nostrils, it was going to be a very long weekend.

 

Getting back to the title of this post; I’m not referring to the well known British health and beauty retailer, but the powerful substances available over the counter in all of ‘Nam’s chemists.  And so it was to be a shorter weekend than I had first thought.  After going to two different chemists (whose staff spoke adequate English), I walk away with some super strength stuff – which I first ‘Google’ before swallowing!

 

Not content with my own research skills, I hand the packet to a colleague in work the next day.  As far as prescription (and trippy) ‘medicines’ go, he knows more than most and is seen as something of a walking medical dictionary.  He confirms they’re safe to take and informs me I can also double up the dose or pick ’n’ mix with some other tablets a friend has kindly donated.  What the hell, it’s a weekend, I’m teaching for 8 hours today alone – let’s try a cocktail of them!  Teamed with a strong frappuccino, large mars bar for a hit of glucose and my herbal nasal inhaler the rest of the weekend flew by!

 

So what other delights can you buy over the counter here, I hear you ask.  The short answer – anything you have the nerve to ask for.  Valium is a common one: given out on an ‘ask no questions and I’ll tell you no lies’ basis.  They want your money after all, not your life story.

 

A xx

Points mean prizes... and power!

School of a weekend is fairly manic.  With over 80 classrooms, 90 teachers, equal numbers of teaching assistants and approximately 18 students per class, it’s not the place to spend a relaxing weekend.  Hundreds of students and parents obstruct doors, corridors and try to set new world records for the number of Asian people you can fit in an ‘11 person’ passenger lift.

Vietnamese parents don’t seem to discipline their children for the small annoying things, such as running down corridors, blocking staircases and shouting incessantly; instead choosing to ignore them until such time as they escalate and the parents finally crack, dragging their children by any available limb and seemingly wanting to knock seven shades of s**t out of their little darlings.  Why not just nip it in the bud initially rather than letting it get out of hand?  Use some logic people! Give them an inch…

We are all encouraged to employ classroom management strategies with our classes.  These vary depending upon the age and ability of the group, but generally involve individual or team points and stickers/prizes.  Students are deterred from speaking languages other than English and are encouraged to work together, be patient, share and help one another.  Some would call it bribery: I call it ingenious!  Add to this the concept of ‘losing face’ (see Losing Face post Monday, 4 April 2011) and students are keen not to be seen in a negative light.  The power of the points system is a mighty thing.  It’s amazing what kids will refrain from doing when there’s a sticker at stake!  Without putting these simple measures in place your ‘controlled fun’ can soon resemble the London looters and you have some 6 year old rioters on your hands, minus the flat screen TVs.

I took over a class of 6-10 year olds a couple of weeks ago.  Their former teacher was a bit of a ‘wide boy’ and had a reputation amongst the staff as a jack the lad.  I can imagine it was quite a shock for the kids when in I walked armed with English speaking games and an actual lesson plan!  The troublesome twin boys I had been warned about have since been tamed and race to stand next to me during games.  My teaching assistant now loves the class, commenting on how much nicer they have been since I took over.

Take note ‘Nam – no need for Super Nanny here: just watch me in action!

A xx

Big game hunter

Ok, so the title of this post is a tad sarcastic and misleading, but I’m sure you’ve come to expect that from me by now.  It actually refers to the ‘gentleman’ I recently observed whilst I ate dinner at a local street food place.  Armed with a cane and a small box, he prowled the streets looking for… geckos!

Attached to the end of the cane there appeared to be a piece of cotton, which he placed in close proximity to the little fellas, shaking it and slowly luring the wee beasties toward him, lowering the cane as he went.  Smack! Rapidly lowering his hand over the helpless reptiles, he tosses them in his box and repeats the process until the alley is seemingly gecko free.  I can only imagine what he was going to do with them, you just never know in these parts.

Since then, I’m always happy and relieved to see Gecky (the house gecko who resides in my room).  Having never seen a bug in my room, I’m convinced it’s all because of him.  Long live Gecky, it’s a cruel world out there for little geckos!

A xx

“Freedommmmm!”

Today is the National Day of Vietnam, marking the day in 1945 when Uncle Ho officially declared independence from colonial France.  As you would expect, it’s an official holiday here and, as we learned at this week’s teachers’ meeting, the day when over 10,000 prisoners are freed as a part of the country’s annual amnesty.

 

The Communist big wigs here aren’t overly keen on public dissent; as such I will refrain from voicing my opinions about this matter, for fear of being thrown in with the remaining 99,000 prisoners.

 

We have all been told to be extra vigilant with our money and possessions, as petty street crime rises around this time each year (I can’t think why!)  Well good luck to them if they have the courage to seek out my money and mobile phone… from inside my bra!

 

A xx