What an interesting year it's been

Greetings, friends and family ~

     Despite my desire to write you interesting accounts of our daily lives here in the developing world, I seem to be experiencing Blogger's Block. It may be because of the usual ebb and flow of my urge to write, or it may be because the novelty of everyday life has worn off and I can't imagine that there's anything interesting enough to write about. After all, I can ride my bicycle past a dozen monks on the street and hardly even notice - they're just part of the background scenery of my life now. And let's not forget that I'm spending far too much time in the hammock reading and napping, and there's not much to say about that that would be interesting to read. Clearly, I need to get off the hammock and get busy, which I will be working on....next week. (Didn't I say that three weeks ago?)

     Here it is, December 31, and so I find myself thinking back a bit to what an unusual year it's been. Being here was a project that was years in the making really, but most of the obvious activity that made it happen took place in the last 12 months. The first half of 2010 was spent winding down at work and speeding up the process of sorting out a lifetime of accumulated stuff. July and August provided an amazing stretch of time at home to savor one last Vermont summer while enjoying the delicious anticipation of finally getting on the plane that would bring us here. And the past four months have been a roller coaster of adjustment, adaptation, and recalibration. I've learned things I didn't expect, unlearned things that I thought I knew, and relearned things I had forgotten. I've struggled with expectations, culture, and perspective. I've been privileged enough to be invited to people's home and weddings and social circles. I've met people who have a different world view than mine and discovered what we have in common. I've felt like jumping for joy and like banging my head against a wall. I've laughed more and cried more than I have since I was a little kid.

     I miss people from home in ways I didn't expect, and I don't miss some things that I thought I would. I have found that the experience of living here is so different from visiting here, and that being here is harder than I expected in some ways and easier in others. I think I can say that I've experienced a certain degree of culture shock, though it's more about the shock of understanding myself and my own individual culture in new ways. At times it is exhausting and at times it's exhilarating.

     Tonight we will join up with some new friends to party away the old year and celebrate the new one. Who knows what 2011 will bring, but if I could have one wish, it would be for just a little bit more equilibrium. And perhaps the ability to write about something other than myself...

     I wish all of you a safe and satisfying New Year. Thank you all for the various kinds of support and encouragement you've all provided as we began this grand adventure, and we so look forward to seeing many of you in May!!!

Some of the crowd at our house on Christmas Day -
American, Canadian, Khmer, Belgian, Filipino, Dutch, and Hungarian.
(Check out our friend Andras in the famous Mojica-Whitney Christmas vest!)

    

Just when life threatened to get dull...

     I'm feeling nostalgic for yesterday's post about life being slow and uneventful. Sometimes things get exciting in ways you'd rather they wouldn't.

     To dispense with all foreshadowing and suspense, we were robbed last night. While we slept, someone came into the house and took all three laptops, four cameras, my wallet, my ATM card, and a pile of cash I had just withdrawn from the ATM yesterday.

     To be clear, it was completely my fault. Despite frequent reminders from Steve and all our Khmer friends, I didn't lock the door when I went to bed. I could tell you why it's so hard to remember to do so after 48 years of never locking my house, but sometimes I just plain don't bother because I like to believe that nothing bad will ever happen to me. So I didn't lock it. And at 6:15 this morning, in a 90-second period we went from confusion ("Where did I leave my laptop...?") to the sinking realization that many things were missing, and I understood what everyone has warned me about.

     I wondered if we were targeted because we are foreigners, and was somehow consoled by the fact that they had also tried to break into the landlord's ground-floor living quarters. In fact, they cut a screen downstairs and reached in through the security bars to grab a bag from a bedroom, but ditched the bag when it didn't contain anything of value. Then they stole the mosquito racquet off the landlord's front porch so they could use the light on the racquet to see while they came upstairs and helped themselves to our valuables. (We know this because they left the racquet behind in our living room, further confusing us in the morning until we unravelled the whole story.) We all slept through the whole thing.

     They did leave some things behind in the corner of the yard: my purse, emptied of the wallet but still containing bug spray and my Epi-Pen; Steve's bag, minus his cash but still containing his glasses and some other items; and a water bottle that they must mistaken for something of value because it was in a neoprene case. Sovann and Steve gathered up all the detritus in a pile in the driveway, and then the debate about whether to call the police began.

     The general feeling was that the police would just cause a lot of bother and nuisance without being any help, but in the end, our friend Chamnan called them and the police came. Over the course of the next three hours, a total of nine different police officers arrived to hear the tale over and over and to take photos of all the places where our belongings had once been. (A photo of the empty desk is helpful in what way...?) They drew crude sketches of the neighborhood and of the layout of our house, filled out many forms that required my thumbprint and signature, asked for multiple copies of our passports and visas, and smoked many cigarettes. Sovann patiently told the story over and over again for them, and they each clucked in disapproval when they heard that the door had not been locked. They asked for lists of what was stolen, they asked how long we lived here, they asked Jaz why she and Sovann weren't married yet, and they asked to be told yet again where each item had been before it was stolen. As the hours ticked away, I was thankful that there was little risk of my ATM card actually being used here, but wondered how long it would take to get a new one after I reported it stolen. Several times, I thought about taking photos of all the serious-looking officials on the balcony doing their very serious police work, and then I remembered that I had no camera. I emptied the ashtray and offered water and chuckled when I heard that they (like everyone else) had asked how much we pay for rent.

     The most helpful reactions I got were these:

• Chamnan, who is tall enough that my head rests in the crook of his shoulder, just hugged me and patted my back for a long time, which made me cry like a baby
• Sovann went out after the police left and bought a case of beer with the helpful advice, "You should drink it all today, Mum!"
• Jaz stayed calm and matter-of-fact, reminding me that getting too upset about all of this was kind of like complaining that my "diamond shoes are too tight, and my wallet won't hold all my hundred-dollar bills!" In other words, we are still so much more fortunate than so many. We were lucky enough to have all those things that were stolen, and we're lucky enough to be able to replace them. She also reminded me that all the 57 things that I just posted about being thankful for are things I probably still have. Gotta love that girl.

     So damn it - my fucking diamond shoes are too tight! And my wallet is too --- oh, wait a minute, my wallet is history. (I did love that wallet.) But here I am, in Cambodia, living the good life. Could be worse.

     (Sorry. No photos again for this post, for obvious reasons.)

Seven days, zero posts; now you'll see why

     Inertia is a powerful force. If I don't have to get up and go somewhere and do something, it is astounding how little I can do in a day. Week One of unemployment was delightful; Week Two started to feel a little unsettling. What do people do when they retire???? Oh yeah - they volunteer a lot...

Here is how I spent a typical day last week:

6:30 wake up, make coffee, sweep
6:45 fire up the laptop, check email, look at Facebook to see what everyone back home was up to while I was sleeping;  follow various links covering topics from pop psychology to Bernie's filibuster to snowstorms in Vermont to anything else you can imagine
9:00 realize I've just spent more than two hours accomplishing nothing; wonder how my life would be different without internet (cue foreshadowing music...)
9:15 shower, wash some clothes, wash some dishes, wander the house and think about taking out the trash; wonder where the trash goes after it's picked up
10:00 decide to make a list of things I should accomplish; get sidetracked by notification of incoming email
11:00 examine seedlings I've planted in pots, water them; wonder why nasturtiums take forever to germinate; fantasize about sunflowers and tomatoes and wish I had room to grow beets; wonder why there are no beets in Cambodia; think about root vegetables in general
11:30 greet Steve when he comes home from school; have lunch; discuss Steve's tennis plans for the upcoming week; think about how I should get out for more early morning bike rides
12:00 arrange myself in the hammock with a book, a cold drink, and my Khmer homework
12:45 doze off
1:10 wake up and curse the mosquito who won't leave me alone; wave the electric mosquito racket around until I hear the satisfying *snap* of a direct hit; think about how un-Buddhist I am
1:30 say good bye to Jaz as she goes off to work
1:35 feel guilty for not working; replenish cold drink
1:37 doze off again
2:30 wake up again and stare into space admiring the mango tree while sipping now-warm drink
2:40 vow to get up and "accomplish something"
2:50 wander the house looking for something I can't identify; try to remember what I used to say I would do "if I only had enough free time;" think about sewing a quilt out of kramas; think about taking up watercolors
3:00 back to the hammock with my book
4:15 respond to phone call or text message from someone who wants to know "What are you doing right now?" Make something up to sound more productive than I really am; make plans to get together sometime in the next few days.
4:25 check to see if laundry is dry
4:35 welcome Jaz home from work; offer to bring Steve a beer in his hammock; feel thankful for hammocks, and for beer, and for Steve
4:45 wander the house again, sweep a little, wonder how to convince the housekeeper to stop rearranging the furniture when she comes; chuckle to myself about how we bought an "island" for the kitchen and she decided it should be a peninsula instead. Imagine her internal dialog: "Why is this piece of furniture in the middle of the kitchen? What's wrong with these crazy people? I'll show them how it looks so much better pushed up against the wall."
5:00 think about expectations and culture and perspective while I admire the mango tree again
5:07 wonder when mango season begins

5:15 make half-hearted offer to help Steve make dinner; remember that we already have dinner plans with friends at 6:30

5:20 check email again
5:45 greet Sovann as he comes home from work or whatever else he's been doing all day; feel bad when he asks what I did today and I have to say, "nothing." Ask about his day and vow yet again to write a blog entry someday about the life of a tuktuk driver
6:00 promise myself to get busy soon; wonder what retired people do all day; read another chapter of my book; feel thankful for my coworkers who bought me a Nook e-reader and a lot of gift cards
6:15 get ready for dinner; realize as we ride out of the yard on our bikes that I haven't left the house all day and remember how much I love riding my bike around town
6:30 have dinner with someone somewhere
8:45 come home and check email/facebook
9:00 upload photos, read more nonsense online, write pointless blog entry outlining the complete lack of excitement in my life this week, think about Dylan and Alanna's wedding in May and search for airfares
10:30 brush my teeth; go to bed to read
10:39 fall asleep

     That sums up a typical day this week. There were days that we took long bike rides or I went to print photos or buy some fruit or pay the internet bill, but mostly I did nothing as described above. It was fun for a week and now I am reminded that a perfect day for me involves doing some kind of work in the morning and then feeling justified in doing nothing in the afternoon. Time to get busy.

     And now you know why I haven't written anything all week. Aren't you glad I spared you the daily details of my ridiculously uneventful life?

Balancing the budget

     To satisfy the curiosity of some people, I thought I would share a bit about the cost of living here. For those who are shocked that I would share what we usually think of as personal information, I will just point out that the first thing that EVERYONE who comes to our house here asks us is "How much rent you pay?" (This includes people who don't speak English, but I understand enough now to know when they're asking Sovann.) So I'm feeling very Khmer about spilling our financial guts.

     So, we pay $300 per month rent for our house, which is really the top half of a large duplex. Our living space is bigger than our house at home, and came with basic furnishings. We pay $5 per month each for cable and trash pick-up and $25/month for internet. Our cell phones require pre-paid minutes and cost us about $5-10 per month. Our water bill comes every 2-3 months, and our first one was $18. Electricity has been between $60-70 per month, which will increase significantly when things heat up and we need to use air conditioning.  So there are our basic living expenses.

     Transportation costs are minimal. We bought bikes for about $40 each and they are our primary means of transportation. I find I have to put air in my tires a couple of times a week, which costs me 200-300 riel each time (about 5-7 cents.) Occasionally we need a tuktuk, but if Sovann is available, he can usually help us out.

     Entertainment costs are minimal or non-existent. The internet is our major form of diversion, and I still have a vast amount of credit at Barnes & Noble (thanks to my very generous VNA co-workers) so I can load books on my Nook e-reader. There aren't really many ways to spend money on "entertainment" here. Someday we'd like to do a bit of travelling within Cambodia or in surrounding countries, which I suppose would fall into this category.

     Food and drink turn out to be our biggest expenses, though we could certainly spend less. Steve cooks at home about half of the time, and fresh food from the markets is cheap enough, but the problem is that there are so many opportunities to eat out. Eating out here can be cheap compared to doing so at home, but even $5 meals add up quickly if we go out a few times a week, especially if you add in a few drinks, despite the fact that draft beers cost 50 cents. (Sometimes we splurge on a cocktail or a glass of wine.) And while there are plenty of cheap options, there are also more expensive options, and we have been known to go out with friends and spend $20 for a night out. Keeping the house stocked with bottled water and beer for guests (and ourselves) tends to cost $10 a week or so. Overall, our food and beverage expenses for November were close to twice our rent! Ouch. (Note to selves: less eating out.) To be clear, that's for three (and sometimes four) of us, though Jaz and Sovann contribute to food costs from time to time.

     Other services we pay for include laundry (about $25/month) and our housekeeper ($30-40 depending on how often she shows up.) Both of these are clearly luxuries, but we like to think of it as "supporting the local economy." I'm also paying for Khmer lessons again at a rate of $5/week.

     We probably spend another $30 per month on what I would call "donations." We will occasionally contribute a few dollars to someone asking for a good cause, and with some regularity I've bought medication or other things for friends who need something that will put a significant dent in their budget.

     The things we didn't expect to include in the regular budget are as follows:

Clocks: A clock costs about $5, but they don't seem to last more than a couple of months before they just stop. Our second clock had to be returned after two days because it only worked when it was lying horizontally and we had this strange idea that we wanted to hang it on the wall so we could see what time it is.  They let us exchange it, since I knew enough to ask for and then keep the receipt. We'll see how long this one lasts.

Brooms: As mentioned in an earlier post, the brooms made of straw and sticks tend to fall apart in short order. Luckily, they cost about dollar, and are sold all over town by vendors on bicycles so they're easy to find when you need a new one.

Household items: I think we're about done buying things we "need" for the house. In the first few weeks, we bought some small appliances which all get used daily - a toaster oven, a blender, a rice cooker, and a computer printer. Prices were similar to what we would have had to pay at home, though I've never actually priced a rice cooker in Vermont... For the first couple of months we were also spending a fair amount on furniture and even a few paintings for the walls. Someday if/when we ever leave, the furniture will have to stay behind but the paintings will come with us. To give you an idea of costs, we had custom-built bamboo shelving units made for our room to function as a closet (which we don't have) at a cost of $80, and a wooden kitchen island built for $50. We bought rattan bedside tables for $15 each. The paintings - which we love - are large originals done by local artists and cost $40-50 each. I imagine I could have bargained, but honestly, I was glad to pay them for their talent so I just paid the asking price. Sovann is shocked and dismayed - he frequently tells me I need to bargain more, but in this case, I consider it my contribution to reviving the arts in Cambodia. (Have you noticed that I have a never-ending number of ways to justify unnecessary expenses?)

Miscellaneous: I've had to pay $14 at the dentist to get a tooth fixed, $25 for camera repair, and shelled out a whopping $7 for some ceramic planters and dirt so I could grow some flowers and vegetables on the balcony. I get photos printed pretty often so I can give them to friends here, which costs about 8-10 cents per print. I borrowed a fantastic reference book that I really wanted to own, but found it cost $90 on Amazon, so instead I took it to the photocopy shop to have the whole thing copied for $3.25.

     The things we don't miss paying for include:

• gas, car repairs and insurance, parking tickets
• expensive cell phone plans
• household repairs
• heating oil and firewood
• plane tickets - though now it's time to start watching fares so we can plan our trip home in the spring!

     I anticipate a certain amount of sticker shock when we're home for a visit - and our budget will not support $6 micro-brews and $9 appetizers, so we can only hope that all our friends will invite us over for dinner often while we're back in Vermont in May!

I am thankful for...

     I realize that American Thanksgiving is long in the past and all our American friends and family have moved on to preparing for the next round of holidays, but I didn't want anyone to think I had completely ignored the opportunity to be thankful.

     For the past many years, we have collected our thoughts on Thanksgiving Day by putting up a poster or putting out our "holiday book" with lots of blank space and the prompt, "We are thankful for..." Dozens of serious and not-so-serious lists have been made over the years of the things we try to remember not to take for granted. We didn't follow that tradition this year - I think we took a bike ride instead - but I am thankful every day for a multitude of things, and I thought I would share some of them here:

    In no particular order, I am thankful for:

• the cheap cost of living in Cambodia
• having a brother who is living in, taking care of, and renting our house
• fresh rambutan, pomelo, and mangosteen
• my incredible kids - all of whom make me proud in their own individual ways, just as it should be
• the generosity of strangers
• having deep roots which allow me to fly the coop with confidence
• my (relative) good health
• Bernie Sanders
• oxygen
• critical thinking skills
• access to education, health care, and Scotch tape
• Frosted Brown Sugar Cinnamon Pop Tarts
• my incredible partner and best friend, Steve
• Susan B. Anthony
• Steel Door Achievment (sic)
• the possibilities and potential represented by a brand new notebook
• online banking
• freedom of speech
• the internet
• Julian Assange
• Diet Coke
• a family legacy of strong, capable women
• a passport
• DHL
• being laughed at every day, and the ability to join in the laughter
• people who have boundaries
• extra-fine point roller ball pens
• cheese
• people who send me chocolate
• Gorilla Glue
• literacy
• bite-sized Frosted Mini Wheats
• being a native speaker of English, and knowing enough not to take it for granted
• cell phones
• strategic planning (the concept, if not the process)
• bifocals
• maple candy
• watercolors
• hammocks
• cherry tomatoes fresh from the garden
• rechargeable batteries
• frogs
• Skype
• dental floss
• mosquito coils
• Van Morrison, Michael Franti, and Sarah MacLachlan
• rainy season
• dry season
• green, orange, and purple
• Google
• Jon Stewart
• opportunities
• Ben & Jerry's Creme Brulee ice cream
• Facebook
• the sense of satisfaction that comes from accomplishing something in the first half of the day, and then relaxing in the second half
• a nice set of sheets
• every moment of every day

   Well, there are the first 57 things I could think of, and that's the general rule of this exercise: just spout the first things that come to mind.

     What are you thankful for?

Things I sometimes ride past on my bike

One bike, three kids.

It gets them where they need to go.