Monday, July 23, 2012
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
The last few days….
It was very surreal getting packed up and clearing everything out of the house that we had lived in for about two years. It was still pretty hot out. We had been doing our best to teach the kids how to use email as well as our co-teachers so we could have a means to keep in touch. We went around town, telling our goodbyes to people we had met over the course of time. I think I went to buy a tube of Pringles one day, and told the woman I would be leaving soon. And then she brought out a picture of her nephew that lives in Chicago and wondered if I knew him or lived close to him. Sigh.
We gathered so much of our stuff, and gave a lot of it away to the kids' families and our host family as well. I spent as much time with little Winston as I could (I grew so darn attached to her.) One of the afternoons, on a rainy-thundery day, I finally was able to sit down with my host-mom and brother while she told me her story of living during the Khmer Rouge period. I was grateful she was able to tell me about it through Dara and that she was willing to share such a horrible, traumatic experience. She many times has said that she wants to have things easy, as she has already lived through hell. I was just grateful to have that afternoon with her telling her stories. I’ll never forget it.
We did what we could to try and say goodbye to everyone that was important to us. It was hard. How do you finish up a chapter in life like that? I guess you just wait until the hour-glass runs out. I remember all of us sitting around in the veranda area, where there was the best cross-breeze in the house, listening to the loud music of the funeral that was across the street. It was too loud to talk. Too hot to move. So we just sat in each others company, knowing that our time was coming to a close. And then all of a sudden, I realized that my host-father was getting up from his chair because he had to leave to attend the funeral, and I stood up and the next thing I knew, I had tears rolling down my face as I knew it was time to say goodbye.
Soon after that the neighbor kids’ mother came by, wearing the clothes I had given her. She too had tears in her eyes. We took one last picture with the kids we had grown so close to, and then our tuk tuk driver pulled in the driveway.
We waved as we drove away and I watched the dust from the gravel road kick up behind us. I waved to my sewing teacher as we passed by her house. We asked the driver to circle around the market one last time. We shouted to our co-teachers as we passed their shops. Then headed out on Road 6 towards Siem Reap for the last time. I remember looking back and seeing the town of Puok getting smaller and smaller, and looking around at the scenery that surrounded us on that sunny and bright afternoon…rice fields, coconut trees, loud rusty cars, water buffalo, motorcycles, people staring at you….and just letting the hot wind blow across my face.
We gathered so much of our stuff, and gave a lot of it away to the kids' families and our host family as well. I spent as much time with little Winston as I could (I grew so darn attached to her.) One of the afternoons, on a rainy-thundery day, I finally was able to sit down with my host-mom and brother while she told me her story of living during the Khmer Rouge period. I was grateful she was able to tell me about it through Dara and that she was willing to share such a horrible, traumatic experience. She many times has said that she wants to have things easy, as she has already lived through hell. I was just grateful to have that afternoon with her telling her stories. I’ll never forget it.
We did what we could to try and say goodbye to everyone that was important to us. It was hard. How do you finish up a chapter in life like that? I guess you just wait until the hour-glass runs out. I remember all of us sitting around in the veranda area, where there was the best cross-breeze in the house, listening to the loud music of the funeral that was across the street. It was too loud to talk. Too hot to move. So we just sat in each others company, knowing that our time was coming to a close. And then all of a sudden, I realized that my host-father was getting up from his chair because he had to leave to attend the funeral, and I stood up and the next thing I knew, I had tears rolling down my face as I knew it was time to say goodbye.
Soon after that the neighbor kids’ mother came by, wearing the clothes I had given her. She too had tears in her eyes. We took one last picture with the kids we had grown so close to, and then our tuk tuk driver pulled in the driveway.
We waved as we drove away and I watched the dust from the gravel road kick up behind us. I waved to my sewing teacher as we passed by her house. We asked the driver to circle around the market one last time. We shouted to our co-teachers as we passed their shops. Then headed out on Road 6 towards Siem Reap for the last time. I remember looking back and seeing the town of Puok getting smaller and smaller, and looking around at the scenery that surrounded us on that sunny and bright afternoon…rice fields, coconut trees, loud rusty cars, water buffalo, motorcycles, people staring at you….and just letting the hot wind blow across my face.
Gko Lan Phnom
Is a Cambodian dish that is directly translated as “Cow Climb Mountain.”
During our last few weeks at site we found ourselves being invited to dinner party after dinner party from friends we had made over time. Cow Climb Mountain, was the most popular dish that was served (partially because it’s a special dish and preparation takes a little extra work – and they save it for special occasions.)
The gadget that is used for this particular meal, is almost like a fondue type of set. It’s made of metal, and it is pointy and shaped like a mountain and has slats that are open which let the heat through. At the bottom of ‘the mountain’ it sort of dips out like a mote, where you put oil which gets heated up by the open chamber underneath it where you place hot coals. So once the oil is heated through, you grab your chopsticks and the raw meat, and other chopped up veggies such as cabbage, green peppers, leafy greens – and fry em’ up in the hot oil, while you all sit on the floor in a circle and enjoy it…eating it hors d’oeuvres style. It’s sort of a social meal, and pretty darn delicious if I do say so myself.
During our last few weeks at site we found ourselves being invited to dinner party after dinner party from friends we had made over time. Cow Climb Mountain, was the most popular dish that was served (partially because it’s a special dish and preparation takes a little extra work – and they save it for special occasions.)
The gadget that is used for this particular meal, is almost like a fondue type of set. It’s made of metal, and it is pointy and shaped like a mountain and has slats that are open which let the heat through. At the bottom of ‘the mountain’ it sort of dips out like a mote, where you put oil which gets heated up by the open chamber underneath it where you place hot coals. So once the oil is heated through, you grab your chopsticks and the raw meat, and other chopped up veggies such as cabbage, green peppers, leafy greens – and fry em’ up in the hot oil, while you all sit on the floor in a circle and enjoy it…eating it hors d’oeuvres style. It’s sort of a social meal, and pretty darn delicious if I do say so myself.
To the Salon
So last June, I decided to break down and get my hair permanently straightened as many of the Cambodian girls do. I remember noticing when I first arrived in country how many of the girls had such long, beautiful straight, straight black shiny hair. Well, it turns out they get it permanently straightened.
I asked around, and one of the teachers, whose hair I thought looked nice, recommended a place for me to go. It was the week of the semester exams, and the only time available she had was at 6:30am. (Some people know me to not be an early morning person), but knowing that she was busy and this was her time I had to take her up on it.
So she drove her moto really slowly, as I peddled a reasonable speed on my bike. We headed to a place behind the market on the north side. The salon she used was on the 1st floor of a flat that’s at the market. It was nothing fancy and there were much nicer places in town, and frankly I was a little surprised this was where she went. Nonetheless – the woman quoted me the going rate for a permanent straighten ($15) and I was fine with it and then sat down in the chair. My teacher friend had to get going to class, and she reminded me it would take four hours…and that she would see me again soon.
. . .
I don’t know how or if I can reiterate how dirty Cambodia is. It’s just dirty, it seems as though there’s a layer of grime on everything. Granted – It is very hard to keep things clean over there, I can vouch for that, but man, the average person from the states would be pretty grossed out by the average living conditions in Cambodia. I say this because, like I said there were nicer salons in town and well, this one wasn’t of the cleanest.
That aside, I sat down in the chair and the girl doing my hair started asking me questions in Khmer. I didn’t think I had ever met this person before, but I acted cordially and answered the best I could. I began to notice she kept calling me the Cambodian word for teacher, neak kru. I thought to myself, well – I must be doing something right in town if she knows I’m a teacher. My intentional relationship building is working after all. Ha. I’m well known in the community. Peace Corps would be proud. Then a little later on in our conversation, I asked her how old she was. She said, ‘18”. I think to myself, “WHAT?” Then she breaks out in English saying that she studies in grade 12 at the school, and she knows about the world map project I’m working on. Sigh. “I think to myself,.. okay, really,… I’m letting some 18 year old student, (not even a salon/beauty school student) – chemically straighten my fine, thin hair? Oh great. What if she fries it.”
Oh the everyday surprises that never really ceased during my time over there. Well, I was already in the chair and she was already putting the goop in my hair, so there was nothing I could do. At least, I thought that her hair looked nice, and I guess that’s always something you should look at when going to a new salon. So my hopes improved a notch.
Well, she got all of my hair finished. I had to sit with that smelly stuff in my hair for about 20 minutes. Then her older sister (who is the actual hair stylist) – came out to take me to do the first rinse. I spoke with her for a bit. She kind of had a disgruntled look on her face, a little tired and a little like she wasn’t so happy to be there. Me thinking to myself, “great. just what I need, an upset hair stylist working on my hair. My hair is very thin, she is probably going to unintentionally something bad to it. Okay. Intervene, try to get this woman to smile.” So… I see a few young children running around. I ask her if they’re hers. She says, no….they’re my older sister’s. Then I ask her how old she is, and she says 30. I told her I was 29. (Going with the whole we’ve got something in common thing…..) I then ask her if she’s married. She looked at me in the mirror and said, “no one will take me.” (record needle screeching to a stop, sound in my head, while thinking to myself, ooooooooops. Wrong question. HOW could I ask that question.) Well, it was a pretty typical question in a culture where people marry at the average age of 20. How is it, I stumble across the disgruntled hair stylist of age 30 – that just happens to not be married. Quickly thinking to myself how I can try and change the subject to something worth speaking about in Khmer……. she says, it’s time to wash your hair.
So I follow her back into the dark, part of the house. I sit down in this crooked, black, half broken, vinyl-torn-in-places salon chair that has two 5-gallon buckets full of water next to it. I lay my head back as she grabs the small container to fill it with water to begin rinsing my hair.
It was one of those moments that struck me. Here I am, laying back in a broken salon chair, staring at the dark corrugated rusty steel ceiling, with a few small holes in it, sunlight peering through like the rosy fingers of dawn, and smoke from the kitchen fire lingering high near the tall ceiling. And due to lack of running water, my stylist is rinsing permanent-hair-straightening-chemical out of my hair with a bucket of cold water. There are so many things that are the same in cultures (i.e. asking a 30yr old woman if she’s married yet, finding out she’s not and it’s a sore subject for her) – i.e. women going to a salon to get their hair done ………. and then so many things that are different, but similar: being at a salon, but it’s the back part of their house, it’s dark and dirty – and I can see their kitchen, this salon chair is adjacent the wall of their bathroom, the ceiling is rusty with a few holes in it and she’s dumping a bucket of cold water over my head, instead of using a hand-held sprayer that has hot water and nice pressure. Oh, and grandpa is over there in the corner lying on the hard-wooden bed taking a nap.
Nonetheless, I was thankful to get that smelly chemical hair-relaxer goop out of my hair. Then she grabbed for Sunsilk Brand (hair-fall defense brand) (I sigh again to myself, yea….. I do have thin hair, and it’s no secret to her) - and she starts lathering up. Well, at least that stuff smells good. Then she rinsed again, and then went for the conditioner.
After that we went back out front by the mirror. She dried it and then she and her younger sister got out the electric hair-straighteners and the two of them simultaneously straightened my hair. It didn’t take them long (because of my thin hair) – and after it was done… she said, $5. I said, really? I thought it was $15? She said, the average cost is $15, but your hair is really thin, usually it takes us hours to straighten it, but yours was fast. (sigh. I know. I have thin hair, thanks for reminding me). Okay- so that’s it? You’re done? She said yes, but come back in one week for a steam-deep conditioning treatment. (well, actually that’s what I found out it was after the fact, she said the term in Khmer, which I didn’t understand at all … then I wrote it down and asked other Khmer people – and they tried to explain it to me, which was kind of funny to witness too, but basically they kept saying it just makes your hair really pretty – and throughout the asking process, I learned the vocabulary word, “soft” – and it makes your hair really soft.) And then the week later, when I went back, I discovered that it’s basically a deep-conditioning treatment that they do under the steamer – WHICH truly was pretty amazing, and did make my hair feel really, really soft and look super glossy shiny. Best darn treatment I’ve probably ever done on my hair, and I was really sad I didn’t discover it til the last 2 months of my service; because it was so ridiculously cheap – think $2-3 – whereas I’m sure, in the states it be more like $30-50.
Anyway, that was my trip to the salon. I think it’s something that I won’t ever forget…Just the extreme similarities and the obvious differences. The result turned out pretty good, and I love the fact I don’t have to do anything to my hair, and it looks like I spent hours drying and straightening it. That will probably be my least expensive trip to the salon ever – and I can thank the 18 year old high-school student and her older, still available, sister.
I asked around, and one of the teachers, whose hair I thought looked nice, recommended a place for me to go. It was the week of the semester exams, and the only time available she had was at 6:30am. (Some people know me to not be an early morning person), but knowing that she was busy and this was her time I had to take her up on it.
So she drove her moto really slowly, as I peddled a reasonable speed on my bike. We headed to a place behind the market on the north side. The salon she used was on the 1st floor of a flat that’s at the market. It was nothing fancy and there were much nicer places in town, and frankly I was a little surprised this was where she went. Nonetheless – the woman quoted me the going rate for a permanent straighten ($15) and I was fine with it and then sat down in the chair. My teacher friend had to get going to class, and she reminded me it would take four hours…and that she would see me again soon.
. . .
I don’t know how or if I can reiterate how dirty Cambodia is. It’s just dirty, it seems as though there’s a layer of grime on everything. Granted – It is very hard to keep things clean over there, I can vouch for that, but man, the average person from the states would be pretty grossed out by the average living conditions in Cambodia. I say this because, like I said there were nicer salons in town and well, this one wasn’t of the cleanest.
That aside, I sat down in the chair and the girl doing my hair started asking me questions in Khmer. I didn’t think I had ever met this person before, but I acted cordially and answered the best I could. I began to notice she kept calling me the Cambodian word for teacher, neak kru. I thought to myself, well – I must be doing something right in town if she knows I’m a teacher. My intentional relationship building is working after all. Ha. I’m well known in the community. Peace Corps would be proud. Then a little later on in our conversation, I asked her how old she was. She said, ‘18”. I think to myself, “WHAT?” Then she breaks out in English saying that she studies in grade 12 at the school, and she knows about the world map project I’m working on. Sigh. “I think to myself,.. okay, really,… I’m letting some 18 year old student, (not even a salon/beauty school student) – chemically straighten my fine, thin hair? Oh great. What if she fries it.”
Oh the everyday surprises that never really ceased during my time over there. Well, I was already in the chair and she was already putting the goop in my hair, so there was nothing I could do. At least, I thought that her hair looked nice, and I guess that’s always something you should look at when going to a new salon. So my hopes improved a notch.
Well, she got all of my hair finished. I had to sit with that smelly stuff in my hair for about 20 minutes. Then her older sister (who is the actual hair stylist) – came out to take me to do the first rinse. I spoke with her for a bit. She kind of had a disgruntled look on her face, a little tired and a little like she wasn’t so happy to be there. Me thinking to myself, “great. just what I need, an upset hair stylist working on my hair. My hair is very thin, she is probably going to unintentionally something bad to it. Okay. Intervene, try to get this woman to smile.” So… I see a few young children running around. I ask her if they’re hers. She says, no….they’re my older sister’s. Then I ask her how old she is, and she says 30. I told her I was 29. (Going with the whole we’ve got something in common thing…..) I then ask her if she’s married. She looked at me in the mirror and said, “no one will take me.” (record needle screeching to a stop, sound in my head, while thinking to myself, ooooooooops. Wrong question. HOW could I ask that question.) Well, it was a pretty typical question in a culture where people marry at the average age of 20. How is it, I stumble across the disgruntled hair stylist of age 30 – that just happens to not be married. Quickly thinking to myself how I can try and change the subject to something worth speaking about in Khmer……. she says, it’s time to wash your hair.
So I follow her back into the dark, part of the house. I sit down in this crooked, black, half broken, vinyl-torn-in-places salon chair that has two 5-gallon buckets full of water next to it. I lay my head back as she grabs the small container to fill it with water to begin rinsing my hair.
It was one of those moments that struck me. Here I am, laying back in a broken salon chair, staring at the dark corrugated rusty steel ceiling, with a few small holes in it, sunlight peering through like the rosy fingers of dawn, and smoke from the kitchen fire lingering high near the tall ceiling. And due to lack of running water, my stylist is rinsing permanent-hair-straightening-chemical out of my hair with a bucket of cold water. There are so many things that are the same in cultures (i.e. asking a 30yr old woman if she’s married yet, finding out she’s not and it’s a sore subject for her) – i.e. women going to a salon to get their hair done ………. and then so many things that are different, but similar: being at a salon, but it’s the back part of their house, it’s dark and dirty – and I can see their kitchen, this salon chair is adjacent the wall of their bathroom, the ceiling is rusty with a few holes in it and she’s dumping a bucket of cold water over my head, instead of using a hand-held sprayer that has hot water and nice pressure. Oh, and grandpa is over there in the corner lying on the hard-wooden bed taking a nap.
Nonetheless, I was thankful to get that smelly chemical hair-relaxer goop out of my hair. Then she grabbed for Sunsilk Brand (hair-fall defense brand) (I sigh again to myself, yea….. I do have thin hair, and it’s no secret to her) - and she starts lathering up. Well, at least that stuff smells good. Then she rinsed again, and then went for the conditioner.
After that we went back out front by the mirror. She dried it and then she and her younger sister got out the electric hair-straighteners and the two of them simultaneously straightened my hair. It didn’t take them long (because of my thin hair) – and after it was done… she said, $5. I said, really? I thought it was $15? She said, the average cost is $15, but your hair is really thin, usually it takes us hours to straighten it, but yours was fast. (sigh. I know. I have thin hair, thanks for reminding me). Okay- so that’s it? You’re done? She said yes, but come back in one week for a steam-deep conditioning treatment. (well, actually that’s what I found out it was after the fact, she said the term in Khmer, which I didn’t understand at all … then I wrote it down and asked other Khmer people – and they tried to explain it to me, which was kind of funny to witness too, but basically they kept saying it just makes your hair really pretty – and throughout the asking process, I learned the vocabulary word, “soft” – and it makes your hair really soft.) And then the week later, when I went back, I discovered that it’s basically a deep-conditioning treatment that they do under the steamer – WHICH truly was pretty amazing, and did make my hair feel really, really soft and look super glossy shiny. Best darn treatment I’ve probably ever done on my hair, and I was really sad I didn’t discover it til the last 2 months of my service; because it was so ridiculously cheap – think $2-3 – whereas I’m sure, in the states it be more like $30-50.
Anyway, that was my trip to the salon. I think it’s something that I won’t ever forget…Just the extreme similarities and the obvious differences. The result turned out pretty good, and I love the fact I don’t have to do anything to my hair, and it looks like I spent hours drying and straightening it. That will probably be my least expensive trip to the salon ever – and I can thank the 18 year old high-school student and her older, still available, sister.
August 7th 2010 | Manila International Airport
Hard to believe we’re here…awaiting our flight to Tokyo and then Minneapolis. Our two years is a wrap. I’ve got some catching up to do as usual… the last month or so……
---time-lapse---
Now I’m in Tokyo. Didn’t really get the chance to sit down and write like I thought I was going to be able to at the Manila airport. We stayed the night in the terminal and there was only one power outlet for me to plug my computer into, then I had to move when they were starting to check in flights
Well I’ll start this post with, “We’re definitely not in Cambodia anymore”…. nor the Philippines for that matter. There was a drinking fountain as soon as we stepped into the airport. A real fountain, in which you could drink the water for free. It was cold. It was clean. No need to get it from the well, or catch it as rain water, or boil, or filter it. It’s already funny how the little things have been hitting me since we left Cambodia a week ago. Anyway, I need to sit down and write about a few moments as well as some finishing words about Cambodia, we’ll see what I can get done with our 3 hour layover in Tokyo!
..... Big Time Lapse.............
On Being Home | March 3, 2011
So we’ve been back in the U.S. for just over six months.
I pause and let my cursor blink for a bit while I reflect on that. Wow.
Tonight, Will and I both stared at our pantry cupboards and looked in the fridge while trying to figure out what to eat for dinner. There were a few left-over’s. Re-fried beans, cheese and tortillas are always an easy option when we don’t feel like cooking. Then Will said, “We could do breakfast for dinner.” Then I said, “How about fried eggs and rice with soy sauce.”
I don’t know how many times that was our staple, choice option while we were in Cambodia on the days we didn’t really feel like cooking. It was easy. Almost like making mac & cheese from a box here. The only things that were missing were the fresh cucumbers and tomatoes that we’d have on the side. Oh, and also the whole sweat-dripping-down-our-bodies-while-we-enjoyed-the-meal-thing.
But yes. We’ve been back in the country for almost half a year. It’s crazy how fast the time goes. Will’s in grad-school. I’m working at a small marketing firm. We’ve experienced 25-below degree temps again. Yet Cambodia still remains very prominent in my mind.
Ha. I remember last summer the first time going into Cub Foods grocery store. I wanted to buy a few toiletries like some shampoo, toothe-paste, a razor and lotion. I found myself in the air-conditioned aisle just staring at ALL of the many different options to choose from, baffled by the steep cost of a bottle of shampoo. $4.95? Are you nuts? It was a bit overwhelming in a way I never expected. I think I might have spent close to an hour trying to pick out all the things I needed. It felt somewhat nice that I didn’t have to bargain with anyone, but at the same time, I kind of wished I could have. I think ended up spending $45 at the checkout, walking back to the car in dismay. How did I just spend $45 on toiletries?
The price-tag sticker shock was definitely something that took a little getting used to. It didn’t help that we were un-employed, and spent the last two years bargaining over as little as $0.12-$0.25. I mean… when we went to the super market in the city, buying something that was $2.10 vs. something that was $2.80 was a big deal in regards to our budget. It took us two months being back in the states before we decided that spending $5 a month wasn’t too expensive to have a text messaging plan on our cell phones. Ha.
Well anyhow, we made it back safely. We had a wonderful trip to the Philippines with my folks. Saw my mother’s hometown which is also where my dad served in the Peace Corps. Cantilan. Yea, a town on the coast of a beautiful island in the southern Philippines which has beautiful beaches with white sand and clear blue water, fresh crab and shrimp daily, nice green mountains as a backdrop, and can I mention, beautiful beaches again? I tell you. Some things in life just aren’t fair. He claims everything’s a trade-off though; he didn’t have electricity, access to ice, and had to take an over-night boat trip to get any sort of western food or ice-cream.
Will’s parents picked us up in the MSP airport on August 8th. It was funny seeing the countryside back in the mid-west again. Everything seemed so clean. So wide open and spacious. It was weird to ride in a mini-van that wasn’t jam-packed full of people, going 65mph down the interstate. (It felt uncomfortably fast to us.)
We got back to Will’s parent’s house in the country and stepped outside of the air-conditioned van and wandered around their back yard. Took a look at his dad’s huge garden. Walked back by the corn. Heard his parents both say, how UNBELIEVABLY hot and humid this week has been. Both Will and I just looked at each other and kind of grinned, but didn’t even need to say anything because it actually felt quite pleasant out to us. Looking back, that was the warmest it has been in the US since we’ve been back.
Anyhow, I’ve finally taken a moment to finish up a few entries for this blog. I know there is more I could write, and maybe I will someday, but here are a few more things that I felt like posting.
Thanks for following along on the journey. It was a good one, and it has changed me and continues to change me in ways I never thought.
---time-lapse---
Now I’m in Tokyo. Didn’t really get the chance to sit down and write like I thought I was going to be able to at the Manila airport. We stayed the night in the terminal and there was only one power outlet for me to plug my computer into, then I had to move when they were starting to check in flights
Well I’ll start this post with, “We’re definitely not in Cambodia anymore”…. nor the Philippines for that matter. There was a drinking fountain as soon as we stepped into the airport. A real fountain, in which you could drink the water for free. It was cold. It was clean. No need to get it from the well, or catch it as rain water, or boil, or filter it. It’s already funny how the little things have been hitting me since we left Cambodia a week ago. Anyway, I need to sit down and write about a few moments as well as some finishing words about Cambodia, we’ll see what I can get done with our 3 hour layover in Tokyo!
..... Big Time Lapse.............
On Being Home | March 3, 2011
So we’ve been back in the U.S. for just over six months.
I pause and let my cursor blink for a bit while I reflect on that. Wow.
Tonight, Will and I both stared at our pantry cupboards and looked in the fridge while trying to figure out what to eat for dinner. There were a few left-over’s. Re-fried beans, cheese and tortillas are always an easy option when we don’t feel like cooking. Then Will said, “We could do breakfast for dinner.” Then I said, “How about fried eggs and rice with soy sauce.”
I don’t know how many times that was our staple, choice option while we were in Cambodia on the days we didn’t really feel like cooking. It was easy. Almost like making mac & cheese from a box here. The only things that were missing were the fresh cucumbers and tomatoes that we’d have on the side. Oh, and also the whole sweat-dripping-down-our-bodies-while-we-enjoyed-the-meal-thing.
But yes. We’ve been back in the country for almost half a year. It’s crazy how fast the time goes. Will’s in grad-school. I’m working at a small marketing firm. We’ve experienced 25-below degree temps again. Yet Cambodia still remains very prominent in my mind.
Ha. I remember last summer the first time going into Cub Foods grocery store. I wanted to buy a few toiletries like some shampoo, toothe-paste, a razor and lotion. I found myself in the air-conditioned aisle just staring at ALL of the many different options to choose from, baffled by the steep cost of a bottle of shampoo. $4.95? Are you nuts? It was a bit overwhelming in a way I never expected. I think I might have spent close to an hour trying to pick out all the things I needed. It felt somewhat nice that I didn’t have to bargain with anyone, but at the same time, I kind of wished I could have. I think ended up spending $45 at the checkout, walking back to the car in dismay. How did I just spend $45 on toiletries?
The price-tag sticker shock was definitely something that took a little getting used to. It didn’t help that we were un-employed, and spent the last two years bargaining over as little as $0.12-$0.25. I mean… when we went to the super market in the city, buying something that was $2.10 vs. something that was $2.80 was a big deal in regards to our budget. It took us two months being back in the states before we decided that spending $5 a month wasn’t too expensive to have a text messaging plan on our cell phones. Ha.
Well anyhow, we made it back safely. We had a wonderful trip to the Philippines with my folks. Saw my mother’s hometown which is also where my dad served in the Peace Corps. Cantilan. Yea, a town on the coast of a beautiful island in the southern Philippines which has beautiful beaches with white sand and clear blue water, fresh crab and shrimp daily, nice green mountains as a backdrop, and can I mention, beautiful beaches again? I tell you. Some things in life just aren’t fair. He claims everything’s a trade-off though; he didn’t have electricity, access to ice, and had to take an over-night boat trip to get any sort of western food or ice-cream.
Will’s parents picked us up in the MSP airport on August 8th. It was funny seeing the countryside back in the mid-west again. Everything seemed so clean. So wide open and spacious. It was weird to ride in a mini-van that wasn’t jam-packed full of people, going 65mph down the interstate. (It felt uncomfortably fast to us.)
We got back to Will’s parent’s house in the country and stepped outside of the air-conditioned van and wandered around their back yard. Took a look at his dad’s huge garden. Walked back by the corn. Heard his parents both say, how UNBELIEVABLY hot and humid this week has been. Both Will and I just looked at each other and kind of grinned, but didn’t even need to say anything because it actually felt quite pleasant out to us. Looking back, that was the warmest it has been in the US since we’ve been back.
Anyhow, I’ve finally taken a moment to finish up a few entries for this blog. I know there is more I could write, and maybe I will someday, but here are a few more things that I felt like posting.
Thanks for following along on the journey. It was a good one, and it has changed me and continues to change me in ways I never thought.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
It's gonna be a good day!
We had a PEACEFUL morning for the first time in 7 days! There was one wedding and two funerals within about a 300m radius of our house. Thus meaning music starting anywhere from 4:25AM and lasting until 10-11pm at night. And this is loud obnoxious music, I'd almost compare some of it to what a casino sounds like (continuous bells going nonstop). But thankfully we've got a day of peace without loud noise inflicted on us. We will certainly enjoy it.
AND last night it was actually cool enough for me to use a blanket! It has been months I think!! We got a good rain and lots of cool air, so that was nice for a change.
Plus today is Will's birthday, I made him scrambled eggs and toast this morning, baked him a batch of peanut butter cookies (which if you've read earlier posts, it's quite the ordeal to do that), we're going out for some traditional Khmer food for lunch that we know we'll miss once we leave and then I'm making hearty garlic potato soup for dinner.
We're savoring our last few days here. We've only got 15 days at site. Then to Siem Reap for a few days, then to Phnom Penh- they fly out to Kuala Lumpur and then onto Manila. So hard to believe.....
More when I think of it!
AND last night it was actually cool enough for me to use a blanket! It has been months I think!! We got a good rain and lots of cool air, so that was nice for a change.
Plus today is Will's birthday, I made him scrambled eggs and toast this morning, baked him a batch of peanut butter cookies (which if you've read earlier posts, it's quite the ordeal to do that), we're going out for some traditional Khmer food for lunch that we know we'll miss once we leave and then I'm making hearty garlic potato soup for dinner.
We're savoring our last few days here. We've only got 15 days at site. Then to Siem Reap for a few days, then to Phnom Penh- they fly out to Kuala Lumpur and then onto Manila. So hard to believe.....
More when I think of it!
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Chess.
Will is doing a 3 week course on playing chess for some students and will have a tournament at the end with prizes. He’s been teaching the main rules this last week. I just got a text message from him saying he had a great line from one of his students. “You eat queen me, I eat queen you.” Which 1) I love how direct translations of words in other languages come out in English…..like in Khmer, usually the adjective follows the noun: “I want coke one”, or “ I have hair black”. 2) Also in the Khmer language (or language Khmer), there are so many hierarchical rules one must follow, mostly in regards to age. For example, there are different words that are used for an elderly person when talking about sleeping or eating….. or there are different words in regards to animals, such as eating. If you want to slander something – you can use the word for eat in terms of animals, which is “si” and use it instead of the human form of the word eat which is “nyam” and make the sentence derogatory. One of my favorites which was quoted by a tuk tuk driver of ours: “Polee si loy” – police eat money. OR –in the game of chess “You eat my queen, I’ll eat yours” meaning not just only that I’m going to ‘eat’ your queen, I’m putting your queen at the lower level animal kingdom and Then I’m going to eat her.
Boo yah… or Eat that.
Boo yah… or Eat that.
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