Off the grid

My final week in Cambodia begun with a splash.

I was sitting on the deck above the river drinking a mojito, took my phone out to admire the picture of the sunrise i took that morning from my riverside bed, and my iphone 6 slipped through the cracks of the deck and into the river. This was salt rubbed into the wound as my laptop has broken here, the DSLR camera I borrowed to film my classes stopped working, and I was locked out of my gmail for a day.
Safe to say I need technological and emotional first aid.

Or do I?

I thought for 10 seconds about diving in after my phone, but it was post midnight and the water is dark enough during the day time. So, I realised this could be a blessing in disguise. And writing this after a 30 minute power cut, I think the universe wants me to finally stop and smell the starlight.

This morning I was woken to the sun streaming into my bungalow. I had no idea what the time was, and a friend came over to take me to breakfast. I stared out at the street instead of checking last night's feed or pictures from the previous night's party. We then went up the river to some rapids. It was thick jungle and the water was fresh and clear. We saw two other westerners the whole day, and the locals were enjoying their Sunday dip. The smells of the street kitchens, the river and petrichor from the rain that followed mixed with the sounds of the birds and motos that passed this narrow street. I still didn't know what time it was.

I was supposed to do other stuff with other people that day but had no way of contacting them and it felt so nice to just go with the flow. I got to do something I probably wouldn't have done otherwise, and the fact that I have no photos to take but wonderful memories to retell is making me feel better.

Sure, I miss the photo of the sunset I took on my phone the morning before from my bed. I miss the sweet little messages I saved and the late night ruminations I wrote in notes.
I'm not missing the feeling that I always need to respond to people, compare myself to them, project my best self and need to obey the clock.

When I think back to said deck, I'm going to remember the time when I did a flip off it into the river, the time when I laid on it in the sun and got awkward tan lines, the times when I sat up there looking at the stars and sunset or still mornings, and the time the odds weren't in my favour and my iphone slipped through the cracks.
Cry me a river.

Loosing your phone is as niggly as a mosquito bite on your second toe.
But if you ignore the itching, the feeling will go away.
If FROZEN has taught us anything, it's to LET IT GO.

So I'm trying it, being off the grid.  
I'm writing this from the guest house that's been so good to me during my technological trauma. They must think I'm very highly strung or addicted to Facebook. 
Hopefully with a few more days phoneless I'll be neither.
I'm going to sign off before another powercut.

Jj