As the weeks and days were winding down at site, I made plans to meet with my old Khmer Tutor, Ratha, to say goodbyes. We met on a weekend morning at her mom’s house and I got to met her boyfriend. He seems like a good man and will take care of her, and if he doesn’t I think that she has the confidence to kick him to the curb!
Ratha and her boyfriend
We sat around talking and eating some small fruits while Ratha threw some food into a pan and cooked us up some stir fry for lunch. While the food was cooking and we were having fun conversation, a male neighbor came over and sat with us and took over the conversation, he was very obviously drunk…it was 9:30am. After well over 30 minutes of trying to respectfully ignore him he got ready to leave, but not before asking Ratha and her boyfriend for money to go buy a bottle of alcohol. They gave it to him. It was only minutes later that a second man, very drunk, came along and just asked for money from them outright without all the conversation. They gave it to him. It would seem that when word gets out that someone has moved to the city, the impression is that they are rich! Anyhow, Ratha, her boyfriend, her mother, and I got to eating the delicious food and about halfway through the meal it occurred to me that this would be the last time I would see these incredible people who have done so much for me…at least for several years. My stomach tightened and I gazed at them with new eyes, trying to soak up every second I could look at them and hear their voices. I sat with Ratha’s mother in hammocks and looked through a small photo album I gave them as a thank you.
Ratha’s mother and I looking through the photo album
As I stood up to leave, I stalled as long as I could, I kept turning back and trying to express my gratitude for all that they helped me with and voice how they mean everything to me and that I’ll truly never forget them for as long as I have life in my body. But it’s hard to get that meaning across in a different culture and a different language. Luckily, I think they’ve always known.
As Aunt Lewin’s bathroom was progressing, we needed some sand to mix with the concrete to lay the bricks. Uncle Bin fired up his rice tractor and attached a small trailer. I had an hour before English class, so I jumped on with the cousins and some shovels. We bounced our way down the dirt roads through the rice fields and I saw some of the other cousins already out there at the site where we would dig the sand. They tore off running towards us through the fields, they ran to the back of the trailer, where I sat with my legs dangling over the back edge, I reached down and pulled them up one-by-one.
After a little shoveling, we all climbed back onto the trailer, now sitting on and around the huge pile of sand, like a Cambodian hay ride, but with sand!
Sand ride!
Ma’lee, the newest and youngest nurse at the health center threw a lunch party for all our staff and even invited back the doctors that retired earlier this year! I think it was a respectful thing to do since she is a new and young nurse to feed the older and more experienced staff. Her parents and some of her friends cooked all the food at home and brought it all to the health center where we feasted to our stomach’s content! She’s been a great friend since she came on board and I wish she had been around from the beginning!
Party at the health center
One of the hammocks under the house had gotten some enormous holes in it, to the point that you couldn’t sit in it any longer. I got the idea to stitch it together for the family, but how? Then I remembered a wise tip from my adventure racing friends, Brent and Abby…dental floss! With some floss and a homemade needle from copper wire it was together in an hour’s time! Thank you Rootstock adventure racing!
My host brother, Pow, had a girlfriend for several months, but in the last month at site there had been some talk amongst the families about marriage negotiations! I mentioned to mom, that if they weren’t ready, then now worries, but if the marriage was going to go happen anyway, they should do it while I was still in the country! She knew I was joking, but my wish came true anyhow.
The groom
The bride
The families came together several times to discuss the dowry that my family would pay to his. I believe the final decision was $1100 and 100 kilograms of rice. A few days later I noticed that one of our two cows wasn’t around, I asked mom…she sold it that morning for $950 to help pay for the wedding dowry. Weddings in Cambodia are typically two days. On the first day of the wedding, mom was already at the bride’s house, but my sister cooked up delicious chicken soup for breakfast.
Even though none of the other family was home, random grandmothers and men were coming over to eat breakfast and all the men stuck around all morning to get drunk under the house by themselves. Around mid-day, Borah suggested we go swimming in a pond, we grabbed Tee, jumped on my bicycle and rode out to his grandmother’s rice field and their shallow pond. Since we were towards the end of the hot season, the water was only knee deep and scorching hot! If you sat down in the deep mud, you could pull some of the cooler water up from the bottom, but it was like being in a warm bath in the summer sun. Just to make things hotter, they held onto my arms and I drug them around the pond, fighting for every step in the sticky mud. Then we threw some of the slippery mud on the shore and danced around in it, I taught them how to moonwalk in the slop. We finished off the fun with a good old fashion mud fight! Just reach down, pull up huge globs of mud, and throw it at each other! Borah would get up on the shore and dance like a crazy man while Tee and I tried to peg him with mud blobs. Back at the house we showered, dressed up nice and biked to the next village over for the start of Pow’s wedding. We all met along the road, about 200 yards from the bride’s house and walked in a procession of two lines lead by some live music and inebriated men dancing to the ceremony.
Day one procession
We sat in chairs along the edges while the families did some ceremony in the middle along with lots of talking from the master of ceremonies. Ultimately, the bride and groom sat together at the head of the seating and couples would take turns going up and pretending to cut their hair while getting their pictures taken. This went on for at least an hour while everyone goes up to get their pictures.
Hair cutting ceremony
After the pictures, we cleaned up the area and all ate dinner together before things got dark. The music was going well into the night and I believe there was dancing, however none of my host family or relatives attended after dark, saying they were scared of fighting…the village that the bride lives in has developed a reputation for having a lot of fighters. The next morning we had another communal breakfast at the house, then hung out under the bride’s house for a few hours while some ceremonies and lots of pictures were being taken up in the house.
Day two procession
After a big, traditional, six-course meal, the tables were cleared and dancing ensued. I boogied down, daincing around in circles, until the cut the music around 4:00 pm. One of my older students, Al, who works at the silk weaving company in the commune was in attendance at the wedding because his parents house was right up the road from the bride’s. He invited me over to his parents house, where I got to meet some of his family and have the fun introductory conversations when people want to know so much about how out lives and cultures compare. We also talked in English for a good 30 minutes straight and I got a sense of pride knowing that we just talked all that time in a language I’ve been teaching him for two years! As dusk rolled in, I biked home for dinner and that was pretty much all of the wedding. It was neat to be a part of things and to see all the females in the family, my mother especially, get so dressed up!
When some village kids were hanging out at our house, I broke out a kit for paper airplane building. We folded and folded and threw and threw! Some of the plane patterns were very unique and flew very far and beautifully! About half of them ended up on roofs!
The volunteer English teacher in town, Sopeak, invited me to birthday party he was throwing for his two sons. Typically, birthdays are not celebrated, but he wanted to go all out one time to show them how much they mean to him. His extended family and neighbors thought he was crazy for spending a few thousand dollars for the occasion rather than build a house, buy a moto, or use it for something else.
Sopeak with his two sons at the birthday party
I sat next to one of my favorite older students, Haat, and we had good conversation and ate the delicious party food. Before long the sky opened up and a downpour began. Everyone tried their best to scoot the tables into the center of the party tent, but there wasn’t much use, we just got wet.
Haat and I
Before long there were small streams flooding through the yard and we waded in ankle deep water when walking over to the trees to urinate. The table behind us had some of Haat’s co-workers who he works at the silk weaving company with. The woman sitting directly behind me thought it would be funny to give me a slice of mango, I opened my mouth and ate it out of her hand. Later on, I peeled her a piece of fruit and she returned the favor of the joke and ate it out of my hands.
When everyone ate their fill and dancing commenced, she took me by the hand, lead me through the mud to the dance floor and we danced next to each other. I know what you’re thinking…that’s some serious flirting going on for Khmer culture…and it was fun while it lasted. But after a few minutes, the drunk men became too aggressive with their dance moves and she left the party with the other two women in the dance area. Oh well, being as it was one of my last weekends, I kept on dancing in the mud with my village men until dusk. As I walked the quarter mile back home, one of the intoxicated men drove his moto down the muddy road and tipped over into a large puddle along the side of the road. Some other men and I helped him get the moto out and no one was hurt, but as I watched him swerve away down the road, it was a blatant example of why to never drink and drive. Back home, I grabbed a change of clothes and was walking to the outhouse to wash off the mud. I took a step on a slick patch and plopped down in the mud…mom got to witness it and had a good laugh!
An organization called “Volunteer Builders Cambodia” came out to our village every day for a week with some foreigners who wanted to do some volunteering while they were on vacation.
Under the direction of the Cambodian staff, they all helped finish the foundation, walls, and windows of Aunt Leeden’s house. The kids and I helped out because we’re family and it was entertaining! First they dug out some trenches between the poles, filled it with rocks and poured in concrete to lay the foundation.
pouring fresh cement
The next day they came back and built up a partial wall of bricks, about three feet high.
building the brick walls
The next few days they hammered on the wall boards and cut out windows.
Nailing on the wall boards
They even hired one of the villagers to dig a new pump-well at the house. Thanks to all the volunteers who came out and helped build this house for a woman in a very difficult circumstance.
Ghan and G’bow
Ngaa
Tee
Smoothing out the floor cement
Day one volunteer crew
It was just another Monday afternoon. I came home from teaching English and was sitting at the table in the shade under the house working on future lesson plans. My brother-in-law was sleeping on the wooden, slatted table behind me. When one of the large blue dump trucks pulled up for Jeaw and Uncle Bin to go shovel sand, my sister ran over to her husband and shook him, “wake up, a truck is here, and there is only a few shovelers!” The last part meaning that he could get a higher pay cut because there were fewer people to split it with. He just rolled over, not saying a word and fell back asleep. Inspiration hit me! I sprung up, sprinted to the fence, grabbed his shovel and jumped into the dump truck! We stood up in the back of the truck, the wind in our hair, we bounced through rice fields and over dirt roads for about 15 minutes before reaching a large pile of sand. There was five of us digging and it took about 20-30 minutes, and lots of sweat, for us to fill up the back of the dump truck. The driver sat on top of the truck laughing, chatting, and taking pictures on his phone. Once full, we piled on top of the sand and on the front of the truck, bounced back through the fields and down the roads to our house. The job pays out $6.25 per truck load of sand, split between whoever helped shovel. I was just there for the fun, so they got to split it four ways, at about $1.50 for and hour’s hard work…not a bad wage, but the work is difficult and inconsistent.
Law and Jeaw getting into a dumptruck
Remember what coining is? When someone is sick, they firmly rub the edge of a coin over the skin many times to break the capillaries. It gives the look of tiger stripes afterwards. When my little niece was sick, mom coined her at night, but cut a lime in half and used the edge of the rind to coin her! She cried, but she smelled so delicious!
I was unable to close my bank account because the teller said that my signature didn’t match my initial opening signature on the account from two years prior up to 85% or more. No machine, she was making this judgment by eye. It didn’t matter that I had my license and my passport…the same passport they had digitally in their system. I had to come back the next day. The manager then printed out my initial signature, game it to me with a pen and some scrap paper, let me practice the signature, then looking at the initial signature, I could make my account-closing signature. I finally got it right! I don’t know if it’s the best security method, but they would make it hard on you if you wanted to steal any money!
The loves of my life!
During my last week, Aunt Lwein, Uncle Bin, Aunt ya, and some other came over to hang out in our house every night after we watched a movie with the kids. They said they wanted to spend extra time with me before I left…awwwww! I gifted mom a large photo album of over 400 pictures from the last two years and we all crowded around it and looked through it front-to-back several times. It brought back so many memories and we told stories of months past and we shared some very special moments together.
Soken came over one night and gave me a bag full of homemade pickles. They were spicy and delicious, but I think the visit was more about spending one more evening together than about the pickles.
Eating lunch with Soken
Cousin Ngaa pulled me aside one day and gifted me a pair of jean shorts he had purchased with his own money from the market. He probably had been saving for awhile to afford them, and I felt terrible when he asked me to try them on and I couldn’t even get close to buttoning the size 28 shorts. He took them back and the next day, biked down to the market and back between classes and came back with a second pair, size 30! We were able to squeeze them on, and I wore them around to show off my pride. I knew what that pair of jean shorts meant between the two of us, an unbreakable bond between family members, and it was maybe the most heartfelt gift I’ve ever received.
Ngaa
On my last day in the village mom had a ceremony at our house. A tent was rented, along with chairs and speakers. In the morning, monks came over, as well as various villagers. There was lots of chanting and everyone ate rice together. Mom called me up into the house to help them present the monks with food and to receive the blessing. I believe the intention was a general good luck for the family and friends, but also to wish me safe travels home and a great future.
Sopeeahlie checking out the monks
Borah
After things died down a little bit, I biked over to Haat’s house to meet him and another former student, La, for lunch.
Haat, La, and I
They butchered a chicken and cooked up some delicious eats. Haat mentioned, “I’m happy that you came to Cambodia, not just for me, but for everyone in Cambodia.” That tickled me pink knowing that a friendship was forever formed. Haat gifted me a polo shirt, and La a pair of maroon shorts, then they asked me to try them on…both were skin tight! They insisted that they were the largest they could find at the market and I gave them my deepest thanks. No wanting to be insulting, I kept them on as I left and biked the mile back to my house, but it was a struggle to move around, and even more so to get them off at the finish!
Wearing the clothes they gifted me
The afternoon was my going away party. Mom instructed me to invite the village health volunteers, the health center doctors, the commune police, the commune government council, and the school teachers. People slowly trickled in from 3:30-5:00 as we fed them a four-course dinner as the tables filled up. It was nice to be able to wait on these people who had done so much to help me and love me over the years.
Health center staff
The middle school teachers
The two single teachers at the middle school!
After the formal dinner, I had mentioned to the villagers that they could come over for song and dance in the evening, but I had no idea what was in store next. Around 5:30, my students began pouring in to join the festivities…Soken and Sopeak had secretly organized a formal program for the ceremony in the days before! First there were speeches from the commune chief, the health center director, and the middle school principle.
Commune chief
Health center director
Middle school principle
Sopeak walked me through a funny session of question and answer where they asked questions such as: What was difficult about first moving to Cambodia? What do you think of the weather? And, What women have you had crushes on?
Sopeak
One of my best and bravest students, Leak, stood up and gave a speech in English, then translated it to Khmer for the audience.
Leak’s speech
The high school girls all got dressed up in beautiful dresses, did their make up, make homemade pom-poms, and did a choreographed dance!
My highschool English girls after their song and dance.
There was a formal gift presentation where my students showered me with favors from the market and hand-written letters. Finally, Soken cried her way through a final speech. It all made my guts wrench thinking about leaving the following morning.
Soken
Soken and I
K’nick did a fantastic job as the unofficial photographer during the whole event and nearly an hour of photographs ensued as the sun set over the village.
Dad, Pow (brother) and Ga’dap (a neighbor and Leak’s father)
In the first couple of months, one of the grandfather village health volunteers, Mr. Lowan, had asked me to trade shirts with him, so before I left I gifted him with the dress shirt he requested and a pair of slacks to match, we hugged for the last time and our eyes welled as he climbed aboard his bike to ride home before dark.
Grandfather Lowan and I
As night fell, the music picked up and more villagers showed up. The inside of the tent was cleared, a table was set in the middle, and we slowly began to dance around the table in traditional fashion. I was thrilled to see that for maybe the first time that I’ve witnessed, more females were on the dance floor than males!
I danced for at least four hours straight, people came and went, we all shared smiles, there weren’t many official goodbyes spoken, but two years of sentiment flashed before my face each time we would lock eyes.
As the night died down, my shy host father came onto the dance floor and held my hand. We held hands and danced around the table for an entire song, no words were needed to translate the moment and the connection. We finally shut it down around 11pm and the teenage boys hung out with me in the house until midnight when we were all falling asleep.
I woke up at 6:15am on the morning of departure to repack all the gifts I received into my already stuffed bags. All the cousins watched from the doorway and playfully quarreled over the last few things I had to give away. Uncle Hooah arrived at the house with his tuk-tuk and we loaded up my bags.
Mom cooked up a big batch of fried rice for breakfast and we all shared last moments around the house until 9:00am.
Two of my most favorite students and the most beautiful girls in the world, Thong and Sopin, came over last minute to give me hugs goodbye and we were full of tears. Grand-mom told me that she loved me like one of her real grandchildren, and she always treated me as such.
Grandmother!
I knew that mom was going to ride into Siem Reap with me to the bus station, but I was blown away with a second tuk-tuk pulled up and two full motos of people and 25 people all piled into to escort me into the city! I tried to appreciate the sights, the sounds, the smells, and the people around me for the last time, I was driving away from a life that I had poured every bit of my heart and soul into creating over the past two years. We had about 30 minutes at the bus station where we hung out like normal until the bus honked it final horn. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat as I hugged everyone goodbye…I didn’t care about cultural appropriateness anymore, I was going to hug my family and friends goodbye regardless of gender! Mom sent me off with a bottled water, a cold soy milk, and a bag of pickled fruit. I physically embraced my sister for the first time and she wept into my chest, leaving stains resembling the relationship and memories we had formed. I begrudgingly left my warm family’s touch for the cold seat of the bus.
The last goodbye.
(From my journal) “As the bus pulled out, we waved to each other through the window and I’ll never forget the look on my mother’s face when our eyes locked at that last moment. Her head was tilted up, arm in the air waving, she looked gaunt and thin as her face searched the windows. Her eyes as huge and black as bowling balls, filled with a shine of tears and frantically searching and full of worry like a mother in a crowd looking for a lost child. When our eyes connected we both knew that would be the last time we shared that loving connection for a long time. She mouthed the words, ‘Suk Sabai’ to wish me happiness and then our moment was torn away from us as the bus continued into the street. I’m crying again as I write this because I love her like my true mother and she has changed my life forever. Due to both the language barrier and cultural differences, and a busy few days, I never got to really tell everyone how dearly I love them and thank them for their unconditional love and support. The hole left in my heart and soul felt like too much to bare and the seven hour bus ride to Phnom Penh ended in a flash as I dwelled on my family and friends, they will forever occupy the silent thoughts of my mind.”
Mom and I
Luckily, I met with my friend, Gianni, once in Phnom Penh. We visited Jeff and Kelly in their new apartments as they transition into a third year as leaders, I ate a grilled sting ray for dinner, and we walked through the closing procedures with Peace Corps over two busy days in town.
packing
At 2:55pm on August 6th, 2015, I boarded a tuk-tuk with a fellow volunteer, Sam, and we flew eight hours to Qatar before going our separate ways for different flights. In the middle of the night, I laid down on the carpeted floor of a very crowded terminal in Qatar for my three hour layover. At 1:09am, a female flight attendant woke me up and asked if I was on getting on the 1:30am flight…not a soul remained in the previously packed terminal! A big thanks to her. Seven and a half more hours brought me to Manchester England for a six hour layover. I ate a meal before finding a deserted terminal to lay down in. Just the opposite happened this time when I woke up to a completely full terminal around me while I slept across four seats with a jacket over my chest and my carry-on tied to my leg as a makeshift anti-theft tactic. Finally, two and a half more hours of flying set me down in Reykjavik, Iceland, where one grand adventure came to an end and a new one was about to begin!
Joely the Goalie 