A Different Kind of Celebration

Creepy crawlies in the salad cause Veronica and Simon to lose their appetite
Today, I turned twenty-seven.

I didn't tell anybody. Just for a change.

Birthdays, or rather, my birthdays, have always been a combination of happiness and anxiety. Happiness because I get to be spoilt and get all my diverse friends together. Anxiety, not because I feel the weight of age, but because it means being the centre of attention.

So today I kept the knowledge of my birthday to myself as if I was a child hiding a frog in his pocket. Having this secret was strange, like a frog's skin feels strange, but it was also very exciting. I knew I was breaking a taboo -- denying people the joy of my birthday -- but it was thrilling. By not telling them, I had power. If I told them the power would be lost. All day, I was sheepish and grinning to myself.

After breakfast we set off through the woods. We ate a lunch of omlettes, sticky rice, rattan, and cabbage, accompanied by a hot-chilli dip, served on those enormous fronds, and then we swam. Stripped down to underwear, everyone splashed about in the shallow, chilly stream. Afterwards we basked on warm boulders like lizards. On the rock I felt a tremendous peace. It was on this day that something changed inside me. I felt like a snake shedding skin. From this day on, the travelling became easier, my life became easier. I no longer felt trapped. I'd finally found peace with who I was. Later than some, earlier than others. Be yourself. It's the oldest cliche, but the truest too.

How do you make a story better? You make it more of itself. How do you make a life better? The same way.

This acceptance has alienated me from many things both on a cultural and personal level. One small example. When I came back from travelling I went back to my old football team in Brighton. I lasted one game. Not because I'd lost my talent. But because I couldn't be who I was with the other players. That's the price you have to pay. In my mind it's not a very high price. It forces you to seek out friendships, groups, and ideas that you really believe in. I wouldn't want to live any other way now.

The second village was spread over a long, steep hill. The houses were built on stilts. Patchy grass covered the slopes. I saw a small child with a leash. Instead of a dog, the leash was tied to a bird. Every few steps it was mercilessly jerked backwards to the child's great amusement. Maybe a capacity for cruelty is a useful tool for a person.

The sun gently waned, earth and sky changing through a multitude of colours: ochres and violets, emeralds and umbers. The evening progressed much as the previous one. A feast of dishes and constantly charged glasses of Lao Lao. Later, massages were given by pairs of girls -- fourteen or fifteen -- dressed in bright smocks. They were old heads on young bodies -- and not just because of their experienced technique. When they finished they whipped out bracelets and fabrics for us to purchase. Who could deny them?

A perfect day.

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