“When people are ready to, they change. They never do it before then, and sometimes they die before they get around to it. You can’t make them change if they don’t want to, just like when they do want to, you can’t stop them.” – Andy Warhol

Movie night: Fast and Furious…all 6 of them! Over six days of course. Surprisingly entertaining and the kids love pretending to race cars as we sit there and make sound effects. On the other hand, we watched all 8 Harry Potter movies, and they were surprisingly not great viewing if one does not speak English. We fast forwarded to some dueling, watched some Quiddich, but there is really a lot of sitting and talking, and they remind me that sitting and talking is not good viewing!

Emily’s adorable little sister

The famous 7-colored fish

My neighbors fishing at their pond

After eating lunch, I was playing UNO with some cousins when my Health Center director stopped over the house to buy some sweet concoction my mom cooks up called “Bong-eye-em”. I invited him, and to my surprise, he joined us in playing UNO!

This is “Hei”, he was my photographer while I took video of the play. He loves the “selfie”

A grandmother who has taken great care of me on the left. And a village health volunteer on the right.

During some free time, I headed to one of the farther villages in the commune to check out one of the temple remains there. I have seen a couple of these ruins so far, and they are usually a small square wall that has been destroyed after years of natural and man-made erosion. This one was no exception, except a little more expansive and raised on a small hill. Neat stuff! I stayed for a few hours, walking around the temple grounds (staying on the trodden paths, reminding myself of the land mine talks we received during training). In the center of the 3 doorways, one both the right and left side was Khmer writing. The script was perfect, so crisp, so shallow, yet defined, perfectly lines which ran on forever, I probably stood there for close to an hour running my hands over it, mesmerized by the precision. I still wonder if the script is part of the original temple, or if it was a later installment, either way, someone out there had some fine craftsmanship.

Temples in my commune

Carved Khmer Script

My Khmer tutor is awesome. Nothing in particular has happened, but after hearing some stories from other PCV’s and their tutor experiences, I was reminded of how lucky I have been. And even if i’m having a difficult morning, I usually come away from tutoring with boosted morale. Not only has she been a dedicated language tutor, but also teaches me lots about the culture, and has been a gateway into several great experiences around town.

My tutor being goofy

The teacher at the elementary school who is also a monk invited me to check out another temple ruin with him. I met him at the pagoda where he lives around 2:30pm. He and the monk that he shares a room with (27 and 24 years old) both were up for the trip. We went out a back way of the temple, and wandered one kilometer through a maze of desolate rice fields to a small stone wall in a bleakly forested area. This was “bow and arrow” temple. I have previously been a little timid about talking with monks because there is actually a “monk language” that people use when talking to monks, and many of the normal words we use when talking with common people are different. That didn’t matter one bit, these guys totally understood that I didn’t know the language and meant no disrespect. We joked and chatted just like normal people, two bare foot, head shaven, orange robe wearing monks, and an American strolling around with countryside with one of the pagoda dogs accompanying us. When we finally popped out in town and they bought waters, we got some interesting looks! Three little kids were playing in a field alongside our path home, they went running back to their parents at the site of these three weird looking men walking down the road. The older monk, “Lor”, started grunting and yelling at them, trying to scare them further, and the parents of the children all had a chuckle at the children’s unnecessary fright. We also had a laugh, and it was a nice reminder that some people aren’t just scared of me because i’m a foreigner, but even of their own holy people, and it’s nothing to be self conscious about.

Monk’s showing me how the animal trap works

At the temple with my friend “Lor”

There was a funeral in town, not just any funeral, but a celebration in honor of a grandmother who had died one year previously. This could be completely incorrect, but what I translated was that they had buried the grandmother when she died, and now, a year later, they dug up her remains and cremated them. It was extravagant, a grandson informed me it cost about $4,000 when all said and done. The ceremony lasted 3 days, which also means 3 days of blasting music that would shake my walls at night, even from 400 yards away. On the first night, I walked over with my cousins and they had a giant projector screen set up and were playing a Khmer movie. We all sat in a dry rice field and watched the story of a Khmer Prince under a blanket of stars. One the second night, I again attended with my cousins and we danced for about 2 hours. I try to avoid the excessively drunk men, and many of the villagers have come to my rescue when they approach me. One the final day, we prepared the ashes of the body and would have a funneral procession from the house to the pagoda where the ashes would be placed in a stupa. First, a massive speaker tower was strapped to a rice tractor, with a little trailer for the generator. Then, the rice tractor went very slowly 3km down the road to the pagoda. All of us villagers were behind the tractor dancing our way down the road with music on high (sort of a mixture of traditional dancing and drunken mosh pit). Of course, as we ventured down the road through other villagers they came to check out the commotion, and got a kick out of the giant foreigner in the mix. Unfortunately, I had to bail out a little early to walk back in time to make it to my English class. As I walked back through the villages by myself, I had a good laugh with those who had spectated me, I knew I had earned some “street cred” that day.

Funeral Procession

Dancing down the road

Mobile concert

I was able to skype home for my older brother’s birthday. I was really lucky to have my siblings, my parents, my grandmother, aunts, uncles, and cousins all on the other side of the camera. While it’s hard being away from them in person, it means the world to see their smile, hear their voice, and feel their support. Happy Birthday Brendan, I wouldn’t be here without you.

Silly tree! All papayas and no leaves!

Reclining Buddah

Stairs

During out monthly village health volunteer meeting, one of the volunteers invited me to “help prepare acting” at her house the next day. I asked to repeat again, and still pretty sure I was mis-translating, I just got the date, location and time and decided to show up and check it out. Sure enough, the next day, she had about 20 students over to her house where they were practicing for a play that they were going to put on during a community event later in the week! The play was about domestic violence, family members working in other countries, and alcohol awareness…perfect! And one of the coolest things about this, was that it was completely done by Cambodian Nationals. I was happy to show up and provide my support where needed, but the VHV and the Cambodian program she was working with put everything together, quite phenomenally too I might add. I got to observe lots of the times and mostly got to play with the students and they got to play with my arm hair. During one rest, we played Khmer marco-polo, where we blindfolded one person, then they had to tag the others just from sound, but most people taunted the person who was “it” through screaming, laughing, and clapping. Then monkey-in-the-middle. Then I taught them an old basketball game I used to play at Fallston Pool with friends called “Tapps”. A simple game of catch, but you must catch the ball and throw it again while you jump in the air, if you have the ball and you are on the ground…you lose! The organization hosting the event gave out matching shirts to all the students and everyone who attended the event, it was neat to see many in the community united in uniform for a good cause. When they first gave all the students the shirts, they were so happy dancing around. They ran over to me with a shirt, I’m not really sure what even happened, without ever moving a muscle, they put the shirt on me, tucked it in and rolled up my sleeves. A jolly good time by all. On the day of the actual event, I think things where very smoothly, I got a front row seat since I was videotaping the entire thing like a father at a dance recital, and I think the community members appreciated the play and hopefully took home a good message! Towards the end of the 4 days of play practice it finally dawned on me, and the kids confirmed it: While they were working towards a good cause, they all were missing school to be there.

Acting

Acting

Khmer marco-polo

They tucked in my shirt and rolled up my sleeves for me

Practicing for the play

Sitting with my host mom in the house late one night, she said how lucky I was to come to Cambodia, and that she was never lucky enough to go to America. She mentioned that she had been to Thailand one time for a wedding, but without a passport she was very scared. When she went to the market, she would not speak, only point to things and pay because she didn’t want people to know she was Cambodian in fear that she would be apprehended or extorted. When some of my family members have gone to Thailand for work, they too do not have passports, she told me that they pay police a monthly wage to allow them to work there. Even then, at the end of the month, the employer sometimes will not pay them, but turn them over to the police instead (free labor!). She said my brother had to run from people they suspected might be police one day when he was working the rice fields in Thailand due to these fears. I certainly agree with her…i’m very lucky.

Another night, she asked me if I hated my host brother because he cannot read. Of course I assured her that I did not hate him because he cannot read…but rather that he cannot write! Just kidding, I love my host brother, and I let her know. After a little chatter, I found a segue to ask her why she couldn’t force him to stay in school, or not let him go out and drink at night with his friends, even though she does not like these things. Her answer was simple “He is grown, he is bigger than me, when we fight, he wins.” She still makes it clear that she does not approve of certain actions, but she cannot enforce them.

Some of the roads in the commune were recently re-done, still dirt roads, but a little bit less moto-swallowing pot holes. The main road they used machines, but the smaller side roads were done by hand. Full villages would be out everyday for a few weeks shoveling dirt and transporting it to the top of the road, then packing it in by hand. I decided, what better way to get to know some people then to work shoulder-to-shoulder with them. During some free time, I borrowed my host dad’s gardening hoe and headed to a nearby village. I met a group of 6 men working a section and they were happy to have an extra hand and a bit of entertainment! The road in this section had already been finished, but we were digging out a section to place concrete drainage tubes under the road. And so we slowly made progress chipping away, chatting about life, sweating lots, and keeping a smile under my blistering hands. After a few hours we took a little break at a nearby house where they drank some booze and we munched on a few little snacks while we talked in the shade of the mid-day heat. I tried to tell them a little bit about smoking and alcohol awareness, but the 32 year old man informed me, “i’ve been drinking this since I was 12 years old, look at me! I’m not sick! We make it ourselves, it’s all natural.” That’s hard to argue against. In the afternoon, I left to study, but they went back to work, earning their $3.75 per day. Hard work at a hard wage, but the 32 year old told me he had to drop out of school in 3rd grade to help provide for his family.

After we dug out the road

Road construction

My 12 year old female cousin skipped school for 2 days to plant watermelons at a nearby farm with some other family members. They each made $3.75 per day.

I got three more packages, two from my parents and one from my cousin (and new mother!) Katherine! They had everything, homemade cookies, candy, chips, popcorn, books, toys, magazines, soccer balls, water paints, markers, more candy, and SO much love. I can’t thank you enough, it was absurd. I had my giant Appalachian Trail backpack stuffed to the seams with American goodness…almost too much of a good thing, but you certainly won’t here a complaint out of me!!! Thanks again for making everyone month Christmas!

Stairway to heaven

I shared the marshmallow peeps from the packages with my host cousins during movie night. You should have seen their faces, they thought it was the weirdest thing and didn’t know how to go about eating it. Some took one bite and gave them back.

One package included the board game “chutes and ladders”, what a great idea! Good simple game that teaches the kids about numbers, although they haven’t let me win yet!

Chutes and Ladders!

During movie night we watched “Tomb Raider”. Some of the film was shot in the temples of Ankor, and there was even a sentence in Khmer which made all the kids ears perk up. I think they got a kick out of seeing their heritage in a Hollywood movie!

A view of the Battombang countryside during the dry season

Trying to follow in the example of “Herr Brown”, one of the very best teachers I have ever had, and certainly the best foreign language teacher i’ve ever had, I have been trying to incorporate more games into my English classes. Dice games, crosswords, the flyswatter game, flash cards, word juggling, show-and-tell, spelling bee, picture drawing, and much more to come. Some have gone better than others, but ultimately the goal is to get them talking lots and for them to have fun doing it. Thanks “Herr Brown”, although you taught me in 8th grade, the impact of your teaching still thrives some 15 years later!

Teaching prop

Jeff, Emily, Rachel and I decided to get out of Siem Reap for a weekend and go to visit Battambang, a 3 hour bus ride away. First I biked up to Emily’s house where we would catch the bus and got to hang out with her cool siblings and beautiful puppy, Ninja! Once in Battambang, we grabbed a bite to eat and watched an “open mic night” where several of the very talented PCV’s performed with guitars and vocals. The following day, Jeff and I caught a tuk-tuk to the bamboo train. This is simply a slatted bamboo frame laid on top of two railroad axles, then powered by a small motor, maybe something out of a lawnmower. Because there is only one track, when a cart come in the opposite direction, one of the carts disassembles so the other can pass, then reassembles afterwards and continues on their merry way. Pretty neat experience flying through the countryside with the wind in your hair on a small wooden frame. At the end were some very friendly Cambodian sellers and a location where they make bricks! First clay is dug up from the field, then put into an extruding machine, cut to size, then stacked into an enormous kiln. The doors are closed and the bricks are fired for 2 weeks using 12 huge truck loads of rice husks to fuel the fire. Neat! Next on the tuk-tuk we hit Sempu Mountain, home of beautiful caves, rock faces, monkeys, big views, and a mountain top pagoda. We hiked all around snapping pictures and checking out all the hidden treasures. On the way out, we ventured into a long dark cave about 4 feet in diameter. They cave went on and on, in the pitch black with only our cell phones as lights, we navigated the small hole. Then the squeaking of bats sent us fleeing for the entrance in a fit of laughter. Once again the tiny mammals prevail over full grown humans!

Pagoda on the mountain top

Spelunking before we got scared and ran out laughing

Where the clay bricks are made before firing

In a kiln where they fire clay bricks

Assembling the bamboo train

Driver of our bamboo train

Bamboo train assembled

A hot day. I pull up to my house after a 30 minute bike ride from my tutor’s house. My host father is under the house, a smoldering cigarette loosely hanging from his lips at half-staff. Two roosters are in a tustle nearby where I stash my bike. Dad glances over and sees me coming, he rushes over to the roosters to halt their fighting…or does he? He simply centers them as the fighting continues, and does this a few times to keep the action fluid. Now one of the rosters is clearly loosing, it doesn’t have the strength to stand up any more and when it does, it’s legs wobble and my dad says “drunk” through his sideways grin. During a cock-fight, if one roster is simply laying at the feet of the other, that leaves opportunity for the winning rooster to repeatedly kick and peck at the head of the losing rooster. My dad pulls them apart, helps the weaker one to it’s feet, only for it to collapse again and the brutality to continue. Blood is dripping from the head, back and neck of the laying rooster, along with the beak of the standing rooster. My dad separates the roosters one final time, picking up the laying down rooster, examining the carnage, turns to me with a smokey, deep chuckle and exclaims, “LOSER!”

Khmer GPS

Another hot day, another swim in the pond! Four of the cousins and I went for a splash to cool off, throwing kids, playing jet-ski, playing surf board, grabbing legs, and teaching them to swim. “Hei” left a bit early, when myself and “Bor-ah” got out we noticed that Hei had thrown our sandals and Bor-ah’s pants into a tree. They were swarmed with large, biting, red, tree ants. They sandals were easy to retrieve, but the pants were little red and moving with life there were so many. “Bor-ah” could not reach them, so I quickly grabbed a corner and flung them over my shoulder. He immediately grabbed them, chock full of ants, and chased after me screaming swinging the pants at me, trying to play a prank and hit me with the ants-in-his-pants. In a rage of laughter, I fled through the rice fields with the small 10 year old nipping at my heels. I remember thinking of the absurdity of the situation and how lucky I was to be there sharing that very moment, and how I have rarely ever smiled so big and laughed so hard.

Fish drying in the sun with the help of the ants

It’s been over 6 months at site now. One-fourth of my Peace Corps service is behind me. It’s been a wild ride, a roller coaster of emotion unlike anything I have ever experienced before. My community, my family, and I have come a long way since I was dropped on their doorstep like a baby from a stork. Thanks for sharing this experience with me and for all the unconditional support. The best is yet to come!

VIDEOS!

Hello everyone, just a quick note on an addition to the page. I am proud to now be bringing you some videos of my Peace Corps experience in Cambodia! I could not post them directly into the blog, so I created a youtube channel! If you look on the left hand side of your screen at the top of the menus should be a link reading: VIDEOS of my experience. Simply click on this menu and you should be transported to the youtube page! I will also post the link right here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC0DB6Nk8CrbQkdKQLJThujQ/feed

I have just uploaded the first few videos for your viewing pleasure. Now that we have video capability I will make an effort to take videos and keep both the blog and youtube channel updated. Please let me know what you think about the addition and if you have any problems viewing the material!

Don’t forget to chime in and let me know if there is something you’d like to see on the blog. I’m happy to take pictures or videos of whatever you’d like or to write about a specific topic or answer questions. This blog is for you!

“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new” -Socrates

At the end of January, all the volunteers in my generation were brought together for an in-service training (IST) which would last two weeks. It all started with packing up my large backpack, the one I used for hiking the AT, with clothes, some books and my computer. Strapped it to the back of my bicycle on the luggage rack with an elastic cord and started the bike ride into Siem Reap. Villagers all thanked me for coming to Cambodia and to have a safe trip back to America, little did they know they weren’t getting rid of me that easy! I Got on a bus with my province-mates Jeff, Emily and Rachel and we cruised about 7 hours down the road to the capital of Cambodia, Phnom Penh. From there, a 30 minute tuk-tuk ride brought us to the beautiful hotel where all of our training would be based out of. Nice rooms, hot showers, delicious food (I ate 10 slices of toast every morning), a pool, and most importantly, good friends. Catching up with all the other volunteers was a much needed decompression as we swapped war stories from our first 4 months at site. The training was full 8 hour days again, but Peace Corps did a nice job and we still had enough free time to enjoy each others company. Giani and I battled it out on the ping-pong table for a good hour or two every night, I had met my match, and his diabolocial serve could only be compared to that which I have faced from my father and grandfather. I got to skype with my awesome family, Chris/KC and their girls, and pregnant Kathy (adventure racing queen). They all looked so great and it was a pleasure to catch up dispite the little extra home-sickness it adds!

IST

My language teacher, he’s the best.

Pinging and ponging

Language study at IST

One night at IST, our wonderful volunteer advisory committee had set up an extroidinary talent show, complete with pizza and cookies! It was histerical. I borrowed some tennis balls and broke out my juggling routine, although rusty. Other acts included: Cambodian singing, cambodian dancing, american singing, guitar playing, hula-hooping, competitive eating, and dramatic readings. Good clean fun for all ages!

talent show – competitive eating

Teachers in the talent show

Talent show

Talent show

Talent show

Talent show

Our school/health center directors were all invited down to training for one day which was very interesting to see everyone interact with their “boss” at site. We all ate lunch together, and it was fascinating to gather different perspectives from other areas of the country and see first hand some of the challenges other PCV’s face at site. Fortunantly, I have a remarkable director who goes out of his way for me, so I can’t complain!

Our medical officer was putting on a session about alcohol. She called me in the morning and asked me to help with the activity. At the start of the class, I juggled again. Over the next hour, while she was teaching, I drank an entire bottle of wine. Then I juggled again. This visual demonstrated the imparment effects of alcohol. At the end, we revealed that it was just grape juice, but I think tricked some people into believing!

People love this bike!

On the last day of training, it was once again a heart breaker to say goodbye to all of our friends and disperse around the country. I hopped a taxi with a few other volunteers and we headed South to Takeo province to meet our host families from pre-service training (PST). It was so great to see them, not too much had changed and we snapped back into our old relationships quickly. I was especially excited because my older sister (Tome) was home from college in Vietnam for Chinese New year. The food was sensational, and I was able to communicate 10 fold better than before. I also stopped over my old teachers house to say hello to her family and some of her students whom I had met back during training. It was fun to see those familiar faces, and play some games (James Bond) with the kids, who’s English speaking seems to have improved in just that short time! During PST, my younger sister (Be-dowel) liked me to sing to her and she had the lyrics from a few songs printed out, I always sang “My heart will go on” becasue it was slow and I knew the tune. The night of my visit, she sang it back to me, probably not thinking anything of it, but it was a powerful moment for me, a connection between my sister and I over a span of time and distance. At 4:30am the next morning, I woke up to catch a taxi back home. I was the first one up, so the dogs chased me, then the family came out for some final goodbyes. The taxi pulled up and we made a few more stops to pick up passengers. Once the car was full, I was seated in the front seat…the drivers seat…with the driver…I was on the door side, and he was towards the consel, 2 more people in the passenger seat, and 4 in the back, and so we drove 2 hours back to Phnom Penh. It actually wasn’t all that uncomfortable and it was cool to have a front row seat to see all the action on the road. I reconverged with Rachel, Emily and Jeff for the 7 hour bus ride home to Siem Reap, picked up my bike from the hotel, had a final 1 hour bike ride and I was home sweet home. All-in-all, IST was a nice training event, a much needed break from site to recalibrate and refocus.

Slingshot is operational.

Mom and dad sent me a package: tennis balls for juggling, bouncy balls for the kids, trail mix, jelly beans, snickers, cereal and so much more…AWESOME! The board game “trouble” was also sent, it gets played 10+ times a day, such a great idea. Also the card game UNO, it was easy to teach and I have played with everyone from children, to teachers, to my health center director! Magazines were also included, another stellar idea, no matter how old they are. I get to read them, the kids love to look at the pictures, and afterwards I give them away to my English students as prizes when we play games. Lastly, my mom sent me two tins of HOMEMADE CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES!!!!!!!! I shared them with the kids during movie night…it was like giving a ham shank a school of starving paraniahs (or at least how I imagine that would go)…they were gone within seconds.

Mom’s home-made chocolate chip cookies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Uno!

 

I was invited into a few houses with palm leaf walls finially. This is a staple around my commune and many of the houses are built this way. I was amazed at the gaping, baseball sized holes in some of the pannels, not to mention all the smaller holes. The rain storms during the wet season are strong, with lots of water coming down hard, and usually strong winds. I can’t imagine what it is like inside one of these houses during an event like that.

A village chief says “Safety First!”

My cousin in America had a few friends traveling in Cambodia, Tony and Eileen. We were able to be in contact and they came out to visit my site for an afternoon. My host mom invited them up into the house, where we sat and chatted, they gave out pencils and paper to the children so they could draw. Mom showed them my sisters wedding album. We took a walk around town, toured the Health Center, the school and met a few villagers. At 5:00, we biked down to my English class and we split into two groups. One group with Tony, and one with Eileen. The students got to ask them questions, practice their English, hear about America, and get used to hearing other foreigners accents. They also distributed fruit to the kids, and donated some school supplies to the school director. Halfway through, Tony and Eileen swapped groups. The students absolutly adored them, were hanging on every word, crowding around to see pictures and ask more questions. Afterwards, we took group pictures together and the students all lingered around, not wanting to say goodbye to their new friends. We all biked home together, Eileen bravely on the back of my cousins bike. Before heading home for the evening, their tuk-tuk driver took the last of our kittens.

Thanks for helping!

Knit and Eileen riding home from class.

English Class

Eileen fielding questions

Tony showing pictures to a group

Tony and Eileen biking to class

My cousin “law” had the idea to plant a small vegetable garden behind his house. First he purchased some cabbage seeds from the market and planted them near his well so that spilled water would irrigate them. Then he tilled a section of very hard dirt behind his house with a hoe. Then we planted the small cabbage seedlings! 2 days later, they all had died! I’m not sure where he/we went wrong, if the soil quality was a factor, but my hunch is that the seedlings may have been too immature to transplant.

Law tilling the soil

Cabbage seedlings for transplant

During some free time, we went bucket fishing again, where we transport water from one area to another area, until there is no water left, then simply pick up the fish by hand. This proved to be a good location, none of the fish were huge, but we probably pulled in about 5 pounds of fish. I believe my aunt used them to make Bra-hok, which is a fermented fish concoction most Khmer people enjoy. The fishing hole was sloppy and muddy, and being dirty is always fun. Towards the end, some of the small kids watching began throwing mud at each other, and as things usually go, we had soon waged a full on mud fight…every man for themself! Post-mud fight, we grabbed a wicker basket and headed to a nearby pond. “Law” put all the fish in the basket and rinsed them in the pond, then picked out any bits of plants and debris had gotten in there. Meanwhile, 6 cousins and I ran and jumped off the ledge doing cannonballs, flips, and screaming into the pond, it was a blast and a nice way to clean off. I got a few good videos and snapped some pictures, then tucked my camera into some clothing on in “law’s” bicycle basket for safe keeping. About 20 minutes later, I went to snap a few more pictures and couldn’t find the camera, upon inquiring to the kids and explaining where the camera was last placed, law simply reached down into the shallows and pulled up a pair of shorts he had been soaking for about 10 minutes…PLOP! There is is! It was no more. I missed about a week of pictures, but was able to purchase a replacement in Siem Reap, and now we’re back in business.

“Fishing”

See Daa airborne

Bor-ah cannonballing

Sunday’s are fun days. I have off, the cousins have off, it’s play time. We had planned an afternoon trip to the water resivior. After eating lunch, we all hopped on bikes, rode 30 minutes to the water and had a blast. The water level had dropped considerably since I was last there during the height of the rainy season, and I was delighted to see a beautiful, deserted beach area all around the water. I gave the kids a small kickball type ball that floated and was fun to throw around in the water, we also brought a frisbee. The water has a very gradual drop off, so the kids who can’t yet swim can easily gauge how deep they want to be by how far they walk out. When they want to go deeper, I put my arms out and everyone grabs on and we go for a ride. Some of them love to be thrown and do flips. I grabbed their ankles and push them through the water like a jetski like my father used to do with my brother and I in the waves of Ocean City, MD. Good fun, nice water, i’ll be making that trip many more times! Back at the house, one of the kids asked where the ball was, we asked around to everyone, but no luck. Once again, something lost the same day it was given!

Law and Tee before lunch

I had diareah for about 4 days and found ithard to keep shoveling down endless bowls of white rice. But even more fun, is that one or two times each night, I get to wake eveyone up on my walk to the outhouse. I was self conscious at first, but they get it, it’s a bonding experience and we’re becoming family. On my way back from the outhouse, say at 3:00am, my mom has our oil lamp lit on the floor so I can find my way. No words are exchanged, but as I turn the corner and the candle light shines on me, I know so too, does her love.

Evening volleyball

There was a funneral in town, I was invited to by the twin’s mom. Not just any funneral, but a one-year-after-death celebration. It is my understanding, that this grandmother died a year prior, they had burried her body, now a year later, they dug up her body and we creamated the remains during this 3 day celebration. Each day, the music is blasting, villagers come to hang out, kids play, people offer money to help with the expenses in return for rice porriage. At night, there are fireworks, music and dancing, a stage with traditional dancers, and afterwards many villagers will stay the night at the house to be with the family. I really enjoy the party atmosphere of funnerals here, to quote our training director Alissa: “I love that it is a funneral ‘celebration’, I hope I get celebrated one day.” And while I usually have my merry band of cousins with me, I am getting to the point with my language, culturally, and comfortability wise, where I can go to these overwhelming events and fend for myself…at least within my own village where most people know me.

The new garden area at my house

I put a few hours into making visual aids for my English class. Listing of places, verbs, colors, numbers, clothing, foods, etc, all with the words and color pictures on large peices of flip chart paper. The director gave me permission to hang them in the class room and it was nice to be able to reference them for ideas so the students don’t use the same words they know every single day. Unfortunantly, two days later, they were all taken down. The director had them in a pile in her office and told me they had took them down to clean the classroom, we put them back up the next day. Two days later, they were taken down again! Oh well, time to try another idea!

Visual aids I made with Law’s help illustrating for teaching how to make porriage.

In Washington DC, there is a Peace Corps Director, under her, there are three regional directors who have the world divided into three sections and each control a section. Kathy, is the regional director for 17 countires in Asia, Eastern Europe, and Northern Africa (including Cambodia!). She came to visit my site, toured my Health Center and we had a nice down-to-Earth conversation. She was so easy-going and inspiring and laid-back and I was honored to spend some time with her. One of the coolest things I have found amongst Peace Corps Staff world wide…they get it…they’ve been there…and no matter where you served, or when…we’re family.

As I watched a sun set over the rice fields one evening, sitting alone in the cool breeze, decompressing my mind from the day. A villager I had seen, but not previously talked to was on his way home from tending his cows. He sat next to me. We talked about our families as we gazed into the vibrant colors ahead of us. It might not sound like much, but those are the moments, tucked into the nooks and crannies of everyday that fuel the fire of this experience.

Neat bike seat

Steve: an American man who donated money to the middle school in the commune for a new library. One a Saturday morning, we had a large ribbon-cutting ceremony as the grand-opening of the library. There were teachers, higher-ups from the district level, my health center director, village cheifs, and villagers. The ceremony started with the playing of the Cambodian National Anthem, followed by the American National Anthem. My hair stood on end as a song I have not heard in many months boomed over the speaker tower in this foreign land that I call my home, it was nice. Back to Steve, Steve likes to dance, after the ceremony and once eveyone had a snack, he spent about an hour shaking his legs and trying to get people to dance with him, but mostly resulted in students running away. This culminated when we took off his shoes and stoon on the desks we had put together to make a table and he danced his heart out alone up there to eveyone’s amusement before jumping off in a final creshendo. It was something to see. Finally, some of the adults had worked up the courage, or had ingested enough beer, to join. Quickly, my health center director grabbed me to join, so in I went dancing around the table 2 feet away from a deafening speaker tower. Luckily, i’m a natural born Khmer dancer, the slower and more jankey, the better…perfect for someone with no rythm like myself! And so we danced for 3+ hours. The teachers, directors, construction workers, men and women alike all getting drunk and snacking on un-ripe mangos. At one point, one of the construction works grabbed two arm fulls of beers and distributed them to the middle school children…no problem. I write this not judgingly, just observations of differences from American culture. Once everyone left, around 2:00pm, six teachers and I were still breaking it down on the volleyball court as they packed up the speakers on a rice tractor. Once it was clear, the construction workers and I played volleyball (in a button-up shirt and slacks) for a few hours. Steve had left early for other commitments, but he put on a good event. Thanks Steve!

harvesting veggies!

I had a meeting with a Cambodian NGO to ask them to help some other volunteers and I with a camp. The meeting went well, but it was interesting to be the minority and try to follow everything across languages and still make sure we covered all the details. It made me think about the thousands of meetings that foreigners must go through to work with American companies, I can emphathise, not an easy thing to do.

Coming home from purchasing my new camera in Siem Reap, Uncle Bin was on his way home from work and saw me. He crept along on his moto scooter side by side with me for the entire hour ride back home, and even showed me a way to short cut the market! Once home, Uncle Hoo-ah dropped by after his days work as a tuk-tuk driver and invited me to his house for dinner. We sat outside, six people around a fold out table made to seat two, under a single tiny lightbulb hanging from a mango tree attached to a motorcycle battery. The food was delicious. My uncles, and all my extended host family have been a highlight of my time at site so far.

Chatting up a teacher

My tutor’s mom is home from work for a month, so I stopped in to pay her a visit. She taught me to sew pannels from sugar-palm leaves that make up the walls and roofs of so many of the houses in my commune. It was awesome. A quick step-by-step of my understanding of the process: The leaves are cut off the tree, then left to dry in the sun for a day or two, then they are cut into strips, folded and left to dry for another day or two, then they are sewn together over a bamboo rod with strands from younger leaves, then left to dry further, then put underwater with a weight on top for up to ten days, then coated in mud and left to dry in the sun further. From there, The pannels are layered and fastened to a bamboo frame, and there you have it, a large square that makes a wall. Put a few of them together and you have a house!

Palm leaf panels drying

Sewing palm leave house pannels

I bought a basket for weighing children, strung it up, borrowed a scale from a VHV, and I was off to weigh babies! Once weighed, we compare them to a chart to see if they are healthy or underweight. And riding around with this contraption on my bike is an instant conversation starter!

Building the weighing basket

weighing basket complete

“Commuting” to work!

My Health Center director (Left) and RACHA doctor (right) educating. My weighing basket in the background

I taught Exercise games to 4th and 5th graders at a primary school. Sharks and minows, blob tag, relay races, we had a blast and the kids were easy, responsive, and followed directions well!

Teaching exercise to 4th and 5th graders

I have eaten some neat things here. Recently, we pulled down a wasp nest, and it was full of hexagonal chambers. I thought it was going to be something like honeycomb, but once we popped open the chambers, it was wasp larva! They looked just like normal wasps, but they were completly white and soft. The taste a little wet, but mostly bland with the slightest hint of sweetness! And, with some teachers at a primary school, we had rice with tree ant soup. A sour liquid chock full of red tree ants, their larva, and cloves of garlic. The ants themself didn’t have to much flavor, it all tasted like the sour liquid they were in. Also got to try rabbit, but my family later told me that the men were probably lying to me and that it was cat. Finially, I got to eat turtle, plus they saved the liver for me! The size of a large marble, squishy, and the most bitter thing I’ve ever eaten, that taste stayed in my mouth for at least 30 minutes!

Moments before we ate him

I headed west to the next province over to help put on a health fair with some fellow volunteers. First, I needed to catch a taxi from the market 4km away, so I rode my bike down, with my host brother on the luggage rack, once at the market, he turned around and rode the bike back home. The taxi ride was maybe a smidge over an hour until I was in Bantey Menchey Provience. The food was good, the friends were great. We taught exercise, nutrition, traffic saftey, alcohol and tabacco awareness, and hand washing to 100+ high schoolers. The students were great, very attentive and willing, and I think were able to take a lot away. After the sessions, they all lined up to take pictures with us like we were celebrities. For the taxi ride home, I had to wait a good hour for the driver to have enough people to make the trip wirth his while, then he overcharged me, but nearby drivers took his side, so I could only haggle so much. I decided that rather than call home to my brother to bring my bike down and meet me at the market, I would stroll the 4km home. I bought some apples and a mango and set off in the evening and fended off the many people offering me rides on their motocycles since we’re not allowed to ride them. About 1/2km down the road, I passed a small English school where two of the girls from my village were waiting for their class to begin (their teacher was napping in a hammock at 5:15pm and the class was supposed to start at 5:00pm). Since they each had a bike, they gave me one to ride home and they would share the other one once their class was over. It’s so cool when things work out like that. After much explaining in the village of what had happened, I dropped the bike at her house, left two apples in the bike basket as thanks and called it a day. Our village is one big family and i’m grateful everyday that i’m included in it!

Michela teaching traffic safety

Nick teaching alcohol awareness

Melissa teaching handwashing

Teaching exercise to high schoolers

Jumping for joy!

Matt teaching nutrition

Group Photo!

PCV’s are famous