Time Travel and the Peace Corps

I read a volunteer blog the other day that described the experience of seeing 2012 through the lens of your country of service. Here, there are few to none of the “advances” we in the U.S. and other developed nations view as indicative of the times, and yet, it is inarguably 2012. For inhabitants of these countries, the year is still chugging along, even without the latest technologies. Eventually, it will even be 2013, and these places will likely still be without much of what we in the modern world consider indispensable to our daily living.

So imagine for a minute how strange it is to have the ability to jump between "the modern world" and the "developing," then, because that's what it's like to go from my village to Phnom Penh. In my village, I live without clean running water or modern plumbing, my only means of transportation is my bike, and while there are some in my village who own cars and many who own motos, it’s not uncommon to see villagers use a horse and buggy to get around. Wireless internet is unheard of, and developments like tablets and interfaces, still a very long way off.

Now Phnom Penh: abundant running water, reliable electricity, wireless Internet available in almost every hotel and guesthouse, streets packed with high-end cars… It’s hard to reconcile that the “modern world” as I know it—as most of you know it—is only 60K away from my small, developing village, and that for many in my community, they will never know it.

A friend and I were talking recently about our first impressions of Phnom Penh… I remember being shocked at how dirty it was, although I tried to convince myself I wasn’t (heh), and generally just kind of feeling overwhelmed by it all- how crowded it was, how noisy, etc. The closest I’d ever come to visiting a “developing country” was when I visited Taiwan on a study abroad trip throughout East Asia in college, and of course this was nowhere near the immersion experience I’m getting now.

After being here for seven months, going to Phnom Penh is not only "sensory overload" but also a puzzling experience for my sense of time. We volunteers talk about this phenomenon we like to call “Peace Corps Time.” When I'm at site, living with the locals and doing what they do (this can be as riveting as sitting at the kitchen table and watching traffic pass for hours), time does this funny thing: it stops. Days can feel like eternities, and only at the end of them, or at the end of a week, do I find myself saying “Whoa, where’d the time go?” It’s a very strange thing indeed. So when I go to Phnom Penh, and I’m back on “normal time” it’s even stranger. Days go by as I vaguely recall they do back in the states, and since I’m usually enjoying them immensely being reunited with friends, talking, laughing, eating and drinking to my heart’s content, I wish they would pass a little more like typical “Peace Corps Time” and let me savor them a little longer…

There is a lot more I could say about Phnom Penh- which for me, at this point in my Peace Corps service in which I am evidently not so choosy, represents modernity- in contrast to my village, but for fear of becoming pedantic, I’ll wrap this up. I do want to mention one small observation: it’s striking to me how much people smile in my village- genuinely smile- and how rare an occurrence this is in Phnom Penh, comparatively. I’m not trying to initiate a dialogue on the “evils of modernity” versus the “quaint, un-touched simplicity of village life”—fear not—it’s just something I've noticed, and probably has more to do with the annoying “Lady! You want moto baaiii?” which is called around every street corner in Phnom Penh and never fails to put a scowl on my own face, than much else.

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This past week I was in Phnom Penh for a “technical in-service training” (IST) with Peace Corps. This IST was mainly about grant writing (more on that soon), and, extra-curricularly, about catching up with friends. This part is always extremely rewarding for me. I've been lucky in that I've made some true friends here, and don't take for granted the times we're able to spend together and be really understood. This is definitely something I took for granted in the states, and being deprived of the ability to easily communicate at site I appreciate it all the more now on the rare occasion I am able to. I was supposed to return to site on Sunday, but the bus decided not to go to Prey Veng that day (ha), so I happily returned to the hotel with other friends whose busses had abandoned them too, and had an extra day of rest. :)

Now I am back and site and trying once again to readjust to my life here. I should mention that my family is doing a lot better since things came undone last week… They are making the necessary changes to the house already—my dad has already installed a new metal door in the back of the house—and is currently pricing the new brick wall that will go up to partition the house from the lawn. They’re remaining optimistic and doing their best to move on with things the best they know how. I appreciate your words of encouragement and sympathy through e-mails and comments, and have passed them on to my family. Hope you are all happy, healthy, and well!

This is an old picture. I came home from Phnom Penh and I swear he’s doubled in size!

my new favorite place to go walking…