My recent reading (and other) adventures

     The weather is heating up. While we wake up in the morning to a pleasant 74 degrees or so, the afternoons heat up into the 90’s. I have just broken down and retreated to the bedroom with the a/c on for a few minutes for the first time since we arrived last August. The heat just made me feel too sleepy to accomplish anything, despite my early afternoon nap. So now the temperature here in the bedroom is down to a cool 88 degrees, and I’m feeling quite refreshed – though I miss sitting outside and enjoying the sights and sounds of the world in and around our front yard.

      I spend a fair amount of time lately reading other people’s blogs, many of them written by people I actually know who are right here in Cambodia. For anyone interested in reading others’ perspectives on their work and adventures here, check out the links here:

     Finding My Way
     Robin is a fellow Vermonter who is here for three weeks or so as part of her around-the-world adventure. We never met before she arrived here last week, but she is the former coworker of the sister of a friend of mine, so we emailed a lot in the months leading up to her arrival. I enjoy reading the perspective of a first-time visitor and being reminded of our own first experiences here as we tried to make sense of everything we were seeing.

     Don't Count the Moments...Make the Moments Count 
     Dorothy and her husband Gordon are here for a couple of months and volunteering fulltime at a new NGO that I’ve visited a couple of times. They were here last year, which is when I first met them at Seven Candles Guest House.

     Throw Off The Bowlines 
     Hahn is a pathologist from Oregon who came to volunteer at a small clinic which has since been closed unexpectedly, so now he’s making the most of things and having other adventures. We met him through Dorothy and Gordon.

     http://sullivanandgelfer.posterous.com/ 
     The Sullivan-Gelfer family (Joe and Carol and their teenage son and daughter) are from Portland (Oregon) and will be here until April. Three out of four of them are volunteering in some capacity with New Hope, as well as doing other things. They are possibly the most energetic, upbeat, well-adjusted people I have ever met, and we love spending time with them. Many happy dinners have been enjoyed together.

     Asta's Blog 
     Asta is a young woman from…oh dear, Sweden perhaps? – who is here and doing a lot of work with Life & Hope Association, so she blogs from time to time about the girls at the PAGE program, where I have a bit of a connection, so we’ve met a few times.

     Barbara in Cambodia 
     Barbara is a British woman who has been here several times now and is quite involved with the Ponheary Ly Foundation (which was our original volunteer experience.) We see Barbara at Seven Candles now and then.
     This one is good if you can read Hungarian. 
     Our friend Eszter writes a lovely blog, and for amusement, you can ask Google to translate the Hungarian into English for you. Unfortunately, it won't really make it any easier to understand.

     I also read a number of other blogs that focus on all things Cambodian: listings of upcoming events, news round-ups, blogs from other volunteers at the organization where I originally worked, and varied writing from both Khmer people and ex-pats. Each one provides its own little perspective on life here (and on the writers themselves) and I enjoy the different perspectives. Together, they also keep me in front of my computer screen a fair bit each day, which explains why I haven’t been reading much in the way of books over the last couple of weeks.

    Here’s an update on what keeps me busy besides reading about other people’s adventures and volunteer experiences:

     I’ve been going out to a little orphanage outside of town every couple of weeks or so to check in and provide some basic health supplies and education. My connection to this place is through a Dutch friend here who has devoted an enormous amount of time and energy there over the past year or two. I originally stumbled upon it while on a bike ride a year or two ago and I remember being a bit appalled by the conditions there. The organization houses 50+ kids in ramshackle palm leaf huts patched together with scraps of wood and cardboard, and is staffed by a Khmer couple. Resources are slim, but the kids living there get three meals a day, access to toilets and a place to wash, and can go to public school, which may be more than many of them would get in another situation. Thanks to a generous donation from someone back home,  I’ve put together a bit of a basic medical kit for them – thermometers, bandaids, bandages, paracetomol (aka Tylenol), antibiotic and antifungal creams, oral rehydration salts, throat lozenges, and a Khmer copy of the book “Where There Is No Doctor.” Last Sunday when I went there, Yeum (my Khmer teacher) came along to translate for me, and now he’s planning to volunteer.  I also brought Robin (whose blog is referenced above) who had just arrived in Cambodia a day or two before, which gave her a bit of a stark introduction to some of the realities of Cambodian life.

The orphanage - I worry about conditions when the rainy season returns.

Some Khmertastic brickwork there

New (Dutch) brickwork and sinks being installed

     I’ve also promised to do something similar for another NGO/orphanage, but I need to wait until the director returns from a trip to work out the details.

     In addition, I have a real “job” of sorts with an international organization that houses young girls who have been victims of rape or have been rescued from sex trafficking. This will keep me busy 2-3 times a week for a few hours each time, providing some health oversight, training and supporting the housemothers in addressing minor health problems that arise, and generally being available for anyone and anything that might benefit from the attention of a nurse. So far the bulk of my orientation has been spending time hanging out and playing with the girls so we can all get to know each other better, which has been delightful. They range in age from 5-17 and come from all over the country, with a variety of stories to tell. Unfortunately, our lack of a common language means I can’t communicate with them as I wish I could, but it has certainly been a motivating factor in buckling down with my Khmer studies. In the meantime, we use a translator and/or the universal language of smiles, gestures, and body language.

     My brain continues to resist all efforts to learn a new alphabet and new language, and I continue to try to overcome that resistance. I know enough of the alphabet now to occasionally be able to read a sign as I pedal around town, and I’m as excited as any self-respecting six-year-old who’s just learning how to read. I’ve started combining my effort to learn the alphabet with learning a few words or phrases every week that I can use with the girls – and those words seem to stick better as I have a chance to practice them immediately. I can now name eleven colors, and some basic emotions/states (happy, sad, worried, scared, hungry, thirsty, tired.) It’s slow going, but I’m trying to be patient.

     Someday, when my Khmer gets much better, I’ll be able to read children’s books, which will be exciting. In the meantime, there are many Khmer children’s picture books printed in both English and Khmer (for the benefit of Khmer people learning English, I assume) – which provide me with another interesting glimpse into the culture. I’ve begun to collect these inexpensive paperbacks, choosing them mostly based on title or cover illustration. Some of my favorite titles include:

• Magic Nose Boy
•  Rose Growing on Cow Dung
• The Girl Entering the Age of Puberty
• Obedient Baby Frog
• Ghost on Large Banana Tree
• Salted Egg Child
• Godlike Doctor

This one is about a robber who kidnaps a young girl and keeps her locked up in a room until puberty.
Eventually, she is rescued by a young man who loves her for her beautiful white sun-deprived skin.

This wins for scariest cover illustration.
(That's blood coming from her eyes.)

Part of the paragraph on this page:
"The husband suspected his wife's strange behavior since he saw her eyes became big,
came out in a reddish way and moved up and down,
 and the unpleasant smell of corpses came from the bedroom."
The unpleasant smell of corpses is generally a good warning sign, I think...

  
   Unfortunately for those learning English, the translations are sometimes a bit off, or at the very least awkward. Of course, sometimes the stories are just a bit awkward themselves. One story titled “Kong Hean” tells the story of a cowardly man whose two wives repeatedly save him from savage wild animals and other threats, while he takes credit for their actions. At one point, Kong Hean is riding an elephant into battle and as he “was getting nearer the enemies, Kong Hean was frightened nearly to die, excreting and urinating and shivering with fear...” There’s a wonderful illustration of Kong Hean on the elephant with his two wives behind him covering their mouths and noses in disgust. The story goes on to use the terms “excreting and urinating” at least twice more. I don’t really understand the lesson meant to be taken from the story. Despite being a coward and taking credit for others’ bravery, he never gets his come-uppance. The last words of the story are in bold print: Fear is stronger than love. What are we to make of that?

     The moral of another story is Good-looking people are not always industrious ones. Hmmmmm….

     And The Girl Entering the Age of Puberty has some interesting quotes:

• An unmarried rich man says, “This wealth will be useless, it is regretful. If I have a wife and children, they will inherit it and I won’t be so lamentable."
• A young couple meet for the first time and then: “They chatted with each other. Moreover she welcomed him in a way of loving.”

     So perhaps if I keep plugging away at learning Khmer, “I won’t be so lamentable.”

     The most intriguing book of all comes courtesy of my friend Lori, who posted this image on her Facebook page:

     This comes without English translation so it remains a mystery why the woman on the cover appears to be breastfeeding a full-grown man while forest animals gather around and laugh. According to Jaz, the title of the story is ‎"50 Minutes to Give the Kid Advice."  Someone might want to give that woman some advice...

More Saturday morning bike rides

     We have made it a habit to take a bike ride on Saturday mornings. We never leave the house quite as early as we intend to, but usually by 10:00 am we head out, water bottles and cameras in our bike baskets, and make an effort to ride somewhere we haven't been before. It's one of my favorite things to do, and we haven't failed to find new roads to explore. I especially love heading out of town and into the countryside, where the scenery changes from urban to rural in a matter of minutes.

     The photos say more than I can tell you in words.

Typical stilted house - the space underneath is a perfect place to park bicycles and motorbikes,
hang a hammock, wait out a rainstorm, etc.

Tending the rice paddy

I love all these beautiful orderly gardens

I'm not sure what she's harvesting here - maybe morning glory?

Dry rice fields, cows, palm trees...beautiful

High tech equipment

Buffalo - they just like to hang out

I still haven't figured out how they stack the hay like this

More lovely  vegetable plots

"Ting mong" - to protect from bad spirits 

You see these guys less often, but they sure are impressive!

Kids come running to the roadside to wave and shout hello to the foreigners

I love the variety of spirit houses

     And then there are sights like this:

"Do you have any idea what we're doing here?"
"Not a clue. How about you?"

Welcome back!

     Our friend Richard, known around town as "that handsome British doctor," is back in Siem Reap for a few months and staying with us for a while. It was Richard who kept me sane during my months at the clinic, and I'm one of many people here who are glad to have him back in town. We had a welcome back party on Saturday, and as always, our balcony was an excellent place to entertain. I thought I'd share a few photos as a way to introduce some of our friends, old and new. (At this point, "old" friends are those we've known for more than three weeks.)

Ines, Sey, Meg, Jaz, Carol, the guy whose name I always forget, Steve, Pouey

Joellen and Meg

Dr Savoeurn, his brother-in-law, Joe, Sey, Sophea, Pouey

Meg, Steve, Sey, Nemoll

Nemoll, Seb, Richard, Carol. Joe

Chantrea, Phearom

Jake, Carol, Jaz, Sovann

The whole gang

Richard, Meg, Ines

Dr Savouern and Ariel

Joe, Seb, Sey

Carol, Jake, Eli

Gaining momentum

     Every morning this week, I've made a list of things to do that day. And every day, I've completed every item except one, which then gets moved to the following day's list. The same item every day - "blog" - has been shuffled from Monday to Tuesday to Wednesday and now to Thursday's list, though I can almost guarantee that I won't end up writing a "real" blog entry today based on time limitations. [True enough - I worked on this on Thursday but did not finish it until Friday.]

     The good news is that I now have some minor time limitations - I'm getting busier again. After that first December week of basking in the joy of unemployment, then another week in which the glow wore off but I savored the rare experience of doing nothing, I descended into a pit of inertia and ennui that lasted far too long. A couple of weeks ago, I gave myself a kick in the ass and got off the hammock long enough to start really thinking about what I should do - which coincided nicely with some opportunities that presented themselves, as opportunities often do when we're ready for them. So more details to follow another time, but it looks like I have a couple of nicely part-time "jobs" that will provide me with much better balance between inertia and frenetic momentum.

     In the meantime, I've been playing around with my new camera, trying to remember that the things I see every day are not the same things that you see every day, and hoping to capture some interesting shots.

A bike ride outside of town provides new sights and sounds

    I have missed a number of amusing photos this week, mostly shots of people carrying seemingly impossible things on motorbikes. (Meaning it would seem impossible to carry such things, not impossible that such things exist.) Imagine the typical Cambodian motorbike, a 100 or 125 cc Honda scooter. You may have seen my shot of seven people on one moto, and long ago in a previous blog I posted my best shots of live pigs and chickens and eggs on motos, so I shouldn't really be surprised any more by what can be transported on one. But there are still occasional surprises.

     In one example, I saw two men, one driving and the other sitting behind him. Between them was a huge sheet of plate glass standing upright and extending several feet from side to side, like a huge glass sandwich spilling out of its two slices of man-shaped bread. The man in back had the job of holding the edges of the glass, which required his arms to be fully outstretched. I can't imagine the aerodynamics that were involved - the glass must have acted as a giant sail trying to push them off in one direction or another, but they forged ahead without any obvious struggle.

[This is where I would put the moto pictures if I had been able to take them.]

     The second unusual load I saw was a washing machine. Again, there were two men on the bike, but in this case, the man on the back was straddling the seat facing backwards, which gave him enough room to hold onto a not-quite-full-size washing machine which was on his lap. The washing machine was not secured in any other way other then the guy's fingers wrapped around two opposite corners and most of it hung in midair off the back of the seat. He looked completely unconcerned, and they were moving so fast that I had no time to pull out my camera.

     (You know, I'm pretty proud of myself when I can go out on my bicycle and come home with a case of beer, a 6-pack of water, some fruit from the market in my front basket, and two grocery nags hanging off the handlebars. [Yes, that is correct: we buy beer by the case and water by the 6-pack.] But clearly I have a long way to go before anyone here will be impressed with my skills.)

     Wednesday evening I went to some kind of party that I didn't really understand but greatly enjoyed. Here's what I did understand about it: There was an annual gathering of kru chol rup (spirit mediums who act as faith healers) from many different provinces held at the home of a high-level kru about a half-hour outside of Siem Reap. What they all did all day is a mystery, but I'm told it involved preaching and praying and monks and eating. By the time we arrived at about 8:00, it was a full-on party. There was a traditional Khmer band, a number of huge Peavey speakers (the "wall of sound" that causes all your internal organs to vibrate if you stand too close), a pink and gold tent, many tables and chairs, some open fires, people dancing, and the whole village watching. The dancers were the healers themselves, from what I could gather, mostly women and a very few men, as is common with this type of traditional role. The costumes they wore were an interesting mix. Some wore bright silk costumes with sequins and braid and conical hats, resembling apsara dancers, and others wore Army fatigues and police uniforms. I was told that the Army and police uniforms were to show support for the country and the troops at the border. They danced enthusiastically to traditional Khmer music, and then Khmer pop music, and even the Macarena. (Will the Macarena ever die? I think not...)

     Over the course of the evening, I took many very bad photos (due to bad lighting and the Khmer habit of dancing in a tight circle) but I needn't have worried about being intrusive with the camera, as the woman in charge came over to thank me for taking photos. (She won't thank me when she sees how poorly they turned out.) I was complimented on my nose, which has happened occasionally in the past. Western noses are apparently considered quite attractive by some people, which I don't really understand. I watched lots of small children fall asleep in chairs or on laps as the evening got later and later. I had many one-sided conversations with Khmers who spoke no English, during which they said all kinds of mysterious and completely incomprehensible things to me, as usual, and I smiled in return, as usual. And I danced, reluctantly at first given that I had no alcohol in my system, but the older Khmer woman and younger Khmer man who kept dragging me to my feet really weren't taking no for an answer. So away from the main dance floor, we danced around a table, and eventually a crowd gathered to watch and cheer on the crazy barang lady, and then to join in themselves. Just to be clear, I really tried to spare Jaz the embarrassment of having to witness this scene, and I didn't truly give in and join with gusto until she had wandered off. They tried but couldn't convince her to give it a whirl.

(Note my complete lack of grace.)

Our audience begins to form...

Jasmine's "No, thank you, I don't want to dance" face.

     If there's a name for this kind of gathering, I don't know what it is. According to one source, it happens once a year in January during the full moon. How many other foreigners have been lucky enough to attend such a gathering is anyone's guess - our good fortune last night was thanks to Sovann, as is so often the case when we get to do interesting off-the-beaten-track kinds of things here. Both his mother and sister were participants, and that's how we wrangled an invitation.

Sleepy children

These women know how to get down!

 

I was told she is 13 or 14, and she's also a medium
(though she looks kinda small to me)

     So as usual, never a dull moment here. I'm still trying to learn the Khmer alphabet and it's still a slow and painful process, but tiny little epiphanies along the way encourage me to continue. We have a relatively busy social life with dinner dates here and there around town throughout the week. People come and go - our friend Richard (the British doc who worked with me at the clinic last fall) arrives back in Siem Reap this week and will stay with us for a while, but our friends Andras and Eszter will be leaving in a few weeks to go back to Hungary. We will really miss those two. Steve has found a nice balance of working mornings at the kindergarten at New Hope and afternoons at the children's hospital, Jaz teaches in the afternoon and tutors a few evenings a week. We've had a spell of cool weather with morning temperatures just below 70 degrees (brrrr!) and my sunflowers and zinnias are blooming, though my tomato plants got off to a great start but then flowered and died for unknown reasons. Oh well, you can't win 'em all.

Birdsong

     Last summer, when I had a few glorious weeks at home to finish sorting and packing, I took time almost every day to sit on the purple Adirondack chair that my brother made for me and soak in the sights and sounds of Vermont summer. I realized how much I loved the birdsong that I heard every day, how it changed from morning to afternoon to evening, and how it changed over the course of June and July and August. I would close my eyes and listen, thinking how much I would miss it.

      I couldn't remember ever hearing birds on any previous trip to Cambodia. Perhaps it was because on all our previous stays we were in a guest house on a busy road, surrounded by more buildings and traffic than trees. But here at our house, just blocks away, we have a yard full of fruit trees and the houses are further apart and the road is really just a dirt lane with very little traffic. And the birds are here. And they sing. And it changes from morning to afternoon to evening...

     I don't know the name of these birds; I have no Peterson's Field Guide to Southeast Asian Birds where I can look them up. There are small sparrow-like birds who swoop around in the morning, landing on the railing and picking up bugs and crumbs off the tiles on the balcony if I haven't swept well enough. They come in twos or threes, and they chirp in a generic though pleasant sort of way. There are some larger birds, perhaps the size of robins though more slender, with high-contrast yellow markings on their faces and white wing tips, and they sit in the fruit trees and call in a loud, complex melody. (I think these are Common Mynas though Sovann doesn't think so.) They're loud enough to wake me from a nap in the hammock in the afternoon. And in the evening, I hear large groups of some kind of unseen bird gathering in the trees further behind our house, all tweeting and chirping and chattering among themselves as they presumably settle in for the night.

     The bird song is occasionally punctuated by the call of small salamander-sized geckos who make a small "chirp chirp chirp" sound from the ceiling, or the even less frequent deep call of the larger geckos who call out, "To-Kay.....To-Kay....To-Kay..." from somewhere in the yard. And after the sun sets and the light is almost completely gone (which happens about 6:15 pm) I can see hundreds of giant fruit bats flying over the house on their way to wherever they go every night, and I sometimes imagine I can hear them making noise as well, though I'm not completely sure.

     I wish I had a good recording device so I could share the sound with you. Or better yet, I wish you would come and visit and listen with me.

Maybe I need this.