Let's Reminisce

Today marks the one-year anniversary of my being in Cambodia. It hardly seems possible I’ve been here that long, and that I haven’t been here longer.

I still remember as vividly as if it was yesterday...

Fretting over what to pack, needing help from friends to be able to start the process. Realizing at 3:00 a.m. the night before I left I didn’t have a TSA lock and having to go to Wal-Mart to get one. The dazed feeling that came over me on entering the automatic doors and being hit with fluorescent lights, seeing aisles upon aisles of stuff, enough to overwhelm the senses even at that quiet hour.

The faces of my fellow volunteers, just as shell-shocked and uncertain as I was, when we met in San Francisco for “staging” (the initial meeting before leaving for your country of service), unsure of myself and what I was doing—where this adventure would take me and whether or not I was ready for it. Little did I know that some of these wonderfully mixed-up people would become my best friends here, more like family than I could have ever imagined.

The giddy feelings of excitement and terror experienced in tandem as our plane lifted from the tarmac and into the unknown, our hands reaching toward the sky like it was an amusement park ride.

Those first days in Phnom Penh for orientation-- hours upon hours of presentations. Hearing words like “doxycyclin” and “mosquito racket” and beginning to assign them tangible meaning.

Throughout training I recall...

Meeting my host sister at the wat in Takeo, worrying she wouldn’t like me and wanting to break the silence but being unable to as we sat with our legs off to the side nibbling on fried cakes and fruit, and trusting she would understand through my good intentions and/or ESP how much I wanted nothing more or less than for us to be best friends.

Trying way too hard at dinner to make conversation about everything, and somehow endearing my family in the process (or maybe it was pity I was engendering): “How do you say ‘road’ in Khmer?’ ‘How do you say ‘soy sauce’ in Khmer?” … Bowl after bowl of rice: white, brown, and sometimes black. Sweet, savory, dried, boiled… Rice with banana, rice with pumpkin, rice with peanut butter, rice with congealed blood, rice with ants...

And of course, from the past ten months at site I will never forget...

Feeling a sense of purpose when I make my host dad laugh, his hard-shell exterior breaking as he hoots gleefully from his gut.

Learning from my host family. Having preconceptions and assumptions continually shattered every time I reach out and engage them. Being continuously surprised by how much they know about things many Americans still stick their heads in the sand about (like climate change, for example).

Sitting on a rice-mat hammock in silence, comfortably, listening to the wind rustle the trees and watching the cars and motos pass, not rushing the moment but being able to contentedly mingle with it.

Meeting my friend Ohn at the market. Wondering to myself who this loud, boisterous Khmer woman was and accepting an invitation to have lunch at her house because she spoke so fast I hardly knew what I was agreeing to... and in the process opening the door to a whirlwind year of fast talking, barely intelligible phone calls, lunches of peanut butter and honey “sandweech” (of which her immediate appreciation solidified for me that Ohn and I were meant to be friends). Afternoons of helping to make “noam” (cakes) that Ohn sells at the market. Absorbing over time how to properly roll out the dough for noampia (peanut-filled cake) or wrap a som jay (rice cake with banana) with banana leaves and tie off with rattan stems. Laughing about nothing and everything with Ohn and feeling a sense of belonging when I am at her house.

The feeling of accomplishment when I discovered my Khmer was good enough to hold a steady conversation, and then the immediate realization of how much I still didn’t know.

~~~~

This year has not been easy. It’s been an up and down roller coaster of unprecedented challenges and curveballs I’ve attempted to fumble my way through. Projects have gone awry or taken forever to get off the ground, co-teachers have disappointed me and left me wondering why I’m here. But more often than not, people here have surprised me with their kindness and willingness to welcome me into their homes and lives.

My students who seek to improve their skills despite the corruption and favoritism around them, the countless children for whom it is the highlight of their day to say “hello!” to the foreigner as I pass on my bike, the amazing people here who don’t let awful living conditions and minimal resources weaken their spirit, and of course, the 56 other volunteers from my group who are endeavoring on this crazy, unforgettable journey with me: thank you. I look forward to another year full of adventure, mishap, disappointments, and successes that are sure to come here in the Kingdom of Wonder.

Here are a few pictures to commemorate the journey, some of which you've seen before. 

Arriving in country: just look at that naïve barang...

 

My training host family. These people provided the warmest introduction I could have had to what my life would be like here for two years.

Takeo! Swearing-in ceremony with volunteers from my training village. I'll never forget those two months during which lasting friendships started to form.

Making som jay (sticky rice with coconut and banana) at Ohn's house.

Ohn's mom, showing me how to wrap the stem around the banana leaf without all the uncooked rice spilling out (you can guess what prompted that)

Friendly kid at the wat near my house I went to with my host mom during site visit

At Waichika's wedding in Phnom Penh. Waichika lived with my family for several months before she got married, in the room right next to mine on the top floor, and was a night nurse at the referral hospital where my host dad works.

With Ohn and two yays (grandmas) at a party.

:) Thanks for tuning in and I look forward to relaying more of my adventures and encounters to you over the course of this next year.

General Update and Library Happenings

Hello! I realize it’s been a while since I last posted, so I’ll relay the top five highlights of what I’ve been up to in the meantime:

1) I went to some friends’ Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World: a leadership camp that emphasizes empowering young Khmer women) in Kampong Cham, the province just north of me. We used a stencil to spray-paint shirts (Note: it is extremely difficult to keep black spray paint in one place. More often than not you will end up with gummy fingerprints all over the shirt.)

2) I helped a friend move in Phnom Penh. Despite looking like my legs are being crushed by these trunks, I was actually fairly comfortable.

3) I cooked lentil burgers, sweet potato chips, and lemonade in honor of 'Merica day

(Do you love your country as much as this girl does right now? I doubt it)

4) I ate brie from a wheel twice the size of my head while looking extremely awkward and out of place at a fancy Embassy event I never should have been allowed into

5) I took advantage of this excessively large bathroom to tap dance.

~~~~

...And that brings us to the present! After my library project’s initial burst of productivity things hit a brick wall. My school director asked me to wait to start the project until students had returned the books they’d borrowed over the course of the year. This meant not starting the project until after school was out, when students would be busy with private classes and/or helping their families at home, so I decided to give out a survey during the final weeks of school to gauge student interest and availability.

This proved futile for two reasons: first, because at that time students still didn’t know when they’d have free time (private class schedules had yet to be determined), and second, because I told them the wrong start date for the project. Heh. I told everyone I talked to we would begin working in earnest on July 2^nd, all the while forgetting I’d been invited to sing at an Embassy event for the 4th of July and would have to be in Phnom Penh on that date. So I sheepishly called my school director to ask if he could please mitigate my mistake during the morning announcements. At this point I was pretty sure no one was going to show up to help the spazzy foreigner teacher, but my students surprised me...

Four students were waiting for me when I came to the school on the day we agreed to start on. I asked them to write down a few of their thoughts on the map project (Do you think this a good idea? Do you think it is important to know where other countries in the world are? How can we see if we have learned more about geography than we knew before doing this project?)

They filled in a blank map with the countries they could name without looking.

One or two students took the reigns on the labeling, but most of them contributed

They identified about 30 countries. Some of them were labeled incorrectly or spelled wrong but I was impressed with how many they could name (world geography is not emphasized in Cambodian schools). We’ll do this exercise again after the map is completed and hopefully they’ll know a lot more than they do now.

Before painting.

We measured our space, taped it off, and lay down the base of ocean blue. The coordinates for any World Map Project are double the length as the height. Ours is 140 cm high by 280 cm wide.

The fruits of our labor: a (not-so) perfectly squared rectangle, in all its shining glory. I actually got a swell of pride when I came back to the school the morning after we’d completed this to do some touch-ups. Just a rectangle, yes, but my rectangle!

My boc or Khmer host dad (far right) has shown up multiple times to help. His curiosity was likely piqued when he first saw me rushing to the school, huffing and puffing down the stairs carrying and almost dropping a tub of paint, a yard-stick, rollers, and pencils, looking utterly confused and mumbling about having napped too long. My boc is a bit of an imposing character (the first day he showed up he stood on the margins with his arms folded, pointing out to the students what they were doing wrong), but it’s also been nice having him around to spot things I might otherwise overlook (he saved the horizontal lines of the grid from going all wonky, for example).

...And that's the news for now! In the coming days I'll sketch the vertical lines of the grid, and then start sketching individual countries. Send good thoughts my way that students continue to show up to help! Thanks for tuning in, and for your support.

TEDx Conference in Phnom Penh

Last Saturday was the second year in a row of the TEDxPhnom Penh conference. Organized by an American who has been living in Phnom Penh for the past seven years, this conference brought together artists, experts in technology, educators, and even a princess for a day-long symposium on the fast-changing scenes in Cambodia and their implications for the country's future. The theme of the conference was “Inspirations. Aspirations. Generations,” and speakers came from all over the world to share their stories and ideas. I met up with several other volunteers to go to the conference and learned a lot that I hope will help me throughout my service and beyond.

One idea I found particularly striking both because of its familiarity as well as its obscurity is that as educators it is our goal, first and foremost, to inspire. "Why" we are teaching should be guiding "what" we are teaching about. It is easy for me to lose sight of this when I am required to teach out of a book that is slightly disappointing at best and detestable at worst (EFC, or English for Cambodia, the current required text for all Cambodian classrooms). Despite this and other challenges, I think it is still possible for me to keep this idea present in my teaching ethic, and also in my relationships with my co-teachers.

A great thing about TEDx conferences is that they are born of the particular environment in which they are held, so with that come stories unique to the place. Sovathana Nana, a 25-year-old Khmer woman who has had to deal with more in her 25 years than most of us have to in a lifetime, shared hers. Typical of so many Khmer people, Nana grew up in an impoverished household with many mouths to feed and not enough food to feed them. She moved to Phnom Penh to find work so she could send money home to her family. She has worked as a counselor and interpreter, a radio presenter, led a local youth volunteer organization, and worked as a DJ and a model in her spare time... She is now the main source of income for her family and supports her siblings' private education.

Despite all the negativity that could have resulted from the many challenges her life has presented, Nana has chosen to see all of these aspects in a positive light. Because of this, she has actively sought out opportunities to improve her situation, instead of letting it weigh her down. It was inspiring to see someone who has chosen not to see her problems as hindrances and burdens, but as motivators for change and action.

Princess Norodom Soma introducing a speaker. She left Cambodia with her family during the Khmer Rouge and spent 35 years in the U.S. before returning to her homeland to learn about its culture and history.

Display from Khmer artist Loven Ramos, who moved to Manila after his parents refused to support him through a fine arts education in Cambodia. He's now returned to create art in Siem Riep and promote an understanding of art not just as decoration, but as a representation of an artist's worldview.

The talks were conducted primarily in English, but offered some in Khmer too, and had translations available throughout. Here Tep Livina, a former gangster turned academic, explains why highlighting the "why" should be more of a focus in education.

A few links to highlights from the event, and relevant information:

About the conference: http://tedxphnompenh.com/about/

Sir Ken Robinson's TED talk, "Do Schools Kill Creativity?": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iG9CE55wbtY

A note on censored content from the conference: http://www.phnompenhpost.com/index.php/2012061156729/National-news/rated-x-for-content.html

That's the news for now! More soon.

Library Project Update: Week One

So now that my project has been fully funded, we’ve begun process of actually working on the library! The funds haven’t been released yet (I’m not sure how long that process takes), but we’ve been able to start on the nitty-gritty work: cleaning out the old books, sweeping, dusting, etc.

On Wednesday I met with my librarian, No, to start working. One of my students in grade 12, Thira, also showed up to help. We started by sweeping out the room and dusting off the tables. I looked up at one point while we were working and saw that No had wandered outside to sweep leaves into his dustpan… So you can see we were a dedicated group from the beginning! Haha... We got more focused over the course of the afternoon, though, and made some progress on the library and the adjoining room where we're currently storing old books.

stacks of old books we moved to the adjoining room to make room for new

they've been sitting on shelves and under tables for years, unused

The library's home to other practical relics, like this blow-up dolphin.

We encountered a lot of critters while we worked. This guy was hanging out on a wall, and not too far from him, hiding out under a chair, we found a black scorpion poised and ready for attack

Termites have eaten through a lot of the books...

And the bookshelves.

Most of the books at the bottom of stacks looked like this.

Thira and I moved these books in two 1 1/2 hour sessions. I'm hoping to get rid of most of these, since they're termite-ridden and/or irrelevant to most students (examples include a 500 + page book of American History with a vocabulary that not even my most advanced twelfth graders would understand, and multiple copies of french textbooks when french hasn't been a part of the curriculum at my school in years), but my school director is hesitant since a lot of them were donated by the MoEYS (Ministry of Education, Youth, and Sports), and he could get in trouble if they (on the off chance) came to visit and saw the books aren't being used. Kind of a frustrating roadblock, considering they're not being used anyway, and are just an eyesore and a waste of space.

That's the news for now! I'll update as things progress.

Heyo! It's May-yo!

Ok, I know that's a hokey title, but I don't think I have enough of those. So let's talk about it being May. How did that happen?? Two months from now and I will have been in this country for a year... It hardly seems possible.

I was originally under the impression that April is the hottest month in Cambodia... As it turns out, that is not so. May is not only hotter, but also more humid since the rains still haven't really started. There have been a few unseasonal showers here and there though, so that's come as a welcome, if only occasional, respite from the heat.

In addition to May being one of the hotter months, it is also full of holidays. Earlier this week, for example, we had Wednesday off for Buddha's birthday. When I asked my dad, half in jest, how old the Buddha was turning, he replied in all seriousness, "81." There you have it. Buddha is 81 now. Tomorrow, Monday, and Tuesday are also holidays (in honor of the king's birthday), so there's no school then either. Because of the prevalence of holidays and the increasing unpredictability of the school schedule, my tenth grade co-teacher's excuses for why he can't make it to school have gotten more outlandish and thus more entertaining. Before he couldn't come to school because he was too busy building his house (obviously more important than doing the job for which the government pays him), but on Friday came the best excuse yet: "I'm sorry, I uhhh... need to go home because myyyy... baby is alone. In the house." WHAT?! Don't worry: it wasn't true. In fact I looked at him and half smiled and he did the same. Then we continued to teach our lesson. I swear, I will never again have as entertaining a job as teaching in Cambodia.

In other news, my library project is now fully funded! Thanks to all of you and your families and friends who made this possible. I am excited to start and see where this thing can go! I will keep you updated as things progress.

Ok, a quick story and then we'll get to the pictures. Last week, after lunch at Ohn's house, she asked me if I'd go with her to the Wat, to get blessed by the monks. "Umm, ok!" I said after a bit of hesitation. I had nothing else to do, after all, and my bed would still be there later in the afternoon for the indispensable daily nap. We set off on our bikes to the Wat, taking off our helmets as we passed through the gates. We walked into the room where the monk was sitting, writing prayers on the backs of leaves with an incense stick. We sat and sompaya'd (bow three times) him and waited for him to finish what he was doing. As we were waiting, he made small talk with us, lighting up a couple of cigarettes as he did haha...

First off, I should explain that this is NOT the impression of monks I was given during training. I was always told that you should keep your eyes downcast, not looking at them directly and generally remain a little aloof, especially as a woman. This monk, however, looked me straight in the eye, was immediately friendly and direct and tried to recollect some of the English he learned growing up. It reinforced the other idea that was ground into us during training -- that what we learned wouldn't necessarily be applicable to our individual experience -- we all have different experiences that lead us to our own conclusions about Cambodia and Cambodian society.

Anyway, back to Ohn's and my experience at the Wat. After chit-chatting with the monk for a while, he directed us outside and motioned for us to sit on the stone steps outside the building. Ohn and I sat down awkwardly and the monk abruptly started to pour water on us, taking buckets full of water and literally dumping them on our heads. We sat brushing the hair out of our faces, trying not to giggle as he murmured prayers under his breath. And then, just as suddenly as he started, he stopped. "Ban" ("good") he said, dropping the pail into the bucket of water and shuffling back into the building. Fast forward a few minutes: Ohn is drying off and I'm swigging water. "What are you doing?" she asks me. "Drinking the water you gave me." "That's holy water. You're not supposed to drink it." "Oh..." Heh. I'm clearly still learning.

See if you can't find anything strange about that ingredient list.

An interesting interpretation of cheesecake: I think that's parmesan on top.

Ugh what the... Is that... What is that??? This is what the inside of an elephant's mouth looks like, of course!

My student Thira holding up a drawing he did for the One World project. He was the only of my older students who participated.

Weekend in Kep

This past weekend some friends and I went to Kep, on the southern coast of Cambodia, to celebrate a couple PCVs' birthdays. We spent a couple of days taking in Cambodia’s ambitiously self-proclaimed “most beautiful bays in the world” – swimming in the ocean (and trying not to cut our feet on the “beautiful bays’” jagged rocks), eating some pretty good seafood and pasta, and relaxing. It was a good time and nice to get to know some PCVs I had previously not hung out with too much.

Before I left, Ohn mentioned to me that Kampot, the province right next to Kep, is known for its delicious durian. “Oh” I said, not prompting elaboration. “Oh man, I would just love a durian…” Ohn said looking pointedly at me as I took a sudden interest in the state of my fingernails. I finally looked up. “…would you like me to bring you back a durian?” “That’d be great! Thanks!”

In case you didn’t know, durian is probably the most disgusting fruit in existence. If its pointed, spiky exterior isn’t enough to deter you, it emits a foul smell repelling anyone with an ounce of common sense in them. Hotels actually ban durian from their premises for their rank, persistent smell: “No guns, no prostitition, no durian.” Despite this, Cambodians can’t seem to get enough of this fruit; the larger, spikier, and smellier, the more delicious.

I waited until our last day to buy the fruit because I knew it’d smell, even if left whole and not cut open. Late in the afternoon a couple of friends and I went to the market; we scoped out the selection and bought what we (as non-durian lovers) perceived to be the most big and delicious of them all (for $7 no less- not only does durian smell like a decomposing onion but it’s also expensive). Jump ahead to the next morning- I’ve just come back to our room and noticed a putrid smell the moment I walk in. “Ugh... What is that?” I ask Amelia, momentarily forgetting the obligatory purchase I made the day before. “I think… it’s the durian” Amelia said and our gaze slowly shifts in horror to the demonic fruit sitting unsuspectingly between the bed and the nightstand.

The fruit continued to be the bane of my existence as I lugged it from Kep back to Phnom Penh, and then to my village. Its spikes tore into my leg as I lugged it towards the bus; the bus driver put his arm out to block me from getting on, pointing to the undercarriage of the bus to which I moped away in shame to banish my durian. In the Peace Corps office, the first thing an unwitting PCV said when Diana and I walked in the lounge was “What smells like durian?” Luckily, Diana was willing to share my burden and was a good sport about the looks of loathing and disgust we got as we made our way back to our province. On our van to get back to site the durian got buried under the weight of 32 (!) people’s luggage, the smell being overridden by the very human smell that accompanies that many people in a hot, crowded space. Fortunately, the durian is now out of my custody having been handed off to Ohn who couldn't be happier about it.

A few more pictures:

A sunset so beautiful we were prompted to sing the national anthem (four of us who had sung at our swear-in were there), only to hear clapping from behind us as we finished and discover a Chinese tourist who had, unbeknownst to us, been enjoying our singing and recording us on her phone haha

Diana and I befriended this pup on our way back to site. He kept shoving his head between the headrests until Diana and I picked him up and let him sit with us, which is apparently where he wanted to be.

It was a very tightly-packed van. "I say we get rid of the fat guy" Diana suggested of the fourth guy in our row who was the straw breaking our PCV backs

That's all for now! More soon.

Bali Details

Hello again!

I e-mailed Giri, my friends' and my guide while we were in Bali, with a few questions about some things I was unsure about regarding what we saw in Bali and its significance to Balinese culture/spirituality- I wanted clarification from him as opposed to just going along with what Wikipedia had to say. I thought you might be interested in his responses, so I've attached them to this post. I've taken some liberties with his English so it's more easily readable, but have left the meat of his responses as is.

Balinese roofs on the pagodas in temples are tiered in numbers of either three, five, seven, nine, or eleven. Why is that? And does it have any correlation with the use of the pentatonic scale in Balinese music, or are these two things totally unrelated?

The reason roofs are tiered in odd numbers from three to eleven is related to the Balinese concept of God, which is pantheistic. God is one but many, many but one. He is inside every object and outside of them, like cotton soaked in water; water is inside the cotton as well as outside. In odd numbers there is always one in the center with one on each side, becoming three, five, seven, nine, and eleven. Eleven is the highest number of roofs there can be because it is the maximum number of directions in our cosmology: eight directions outside and one in the center; one up, and one down. From this perspective- our Balinese spiritual orientation- the cosmos is round.

I think it might also be related to pentatonic music but am unsure.

What is the relationship between energy, fire, etc., and the different layers of the body?

Five elements of the cosmos, Panca Maha Bhuta (panca= five, maha =great, bhuta =nature): 

1. Apah (liquid, water)

2. Pertiwi (solid, soil)

3. Teja (heat, fire)

4. Bayu (air, wind)

5. Akasa (ether, space)

Five layers of our body, Panca Maya Kosha  (panca= 5, maya= illusion, kosha= layer):

1. Ana Maya Kosha: physical body

2. Prana Maya Kosha: energy layer, nerve system

3. Mano Maya Kosha: mind layer

4. Wijnana Maya Kosha: memory layer, (knowledge and character are saved here)

5. Ananda Maya Kosha: layer of sublime happiness, (here is the home of our soul (Atman) which is a spark of The Divine (Brahman))

* These five elements of the cosmos (big world) are also the main elements of our body (small world).