In which I integrate

Where in the world....?

I bet Carmen Sandiago never went to Cambodia. 

Right now I'm in Siem Reap province, which is where I'll be living for the next 2 years. I've been here for almost 3 weeks, and am desperately trying to find ways to fill the time till school starts. So far, I've been trying my best at integrating into my community, which is what I'm supposed to be doing for forever, or until I'm unmistakably Cambodian. This has resulted in quite a few people asking me to teach them English, so I'm teaching 2 private English classes.  The first is at the pagoda at 6am, (ugh) and consists of 20-30 students of varying ages, including a handful of monks. The second is in the evening, and only has 4 students, which is great, but they're also extreme variations in ages. 3 are 12, but the 4th is my age. Fortunately, I've now asked Voleak, the 4th student, to tutor me in Khmer, so she gets lots of extra English practice then, even though she teaches me in Khmer. 

Outside of class, I like to go to the market almost everyday, mostly to buy my 15 cent waffles, but also just so people know I'm here. Generally what happens, is that the villagers point out to each other that the foreigner is here, ask each other if I know Khmer, I reply that I do, and then they all come up to feel my arms, because Cambodians really like to feel arm fat. I've had some different experiences, like one lady started pointing to random things in the market and asked me to say them in Khmer, maybe she didn't really believe that I could speak Khmer, or was just amazed that a foreigner can speak Khmer. I also had a whole crowd of people gathered around the tailor booth when I was trying on different skirts, all putting in their input of which fabrics were prettiest, and which side the slit should go on in the skirt. Otherwise, "ohh barong!" (Foreigner) "jeh Khmer?" Me: "jeh!"  "Ayaaa" [feeling arm fat while asking how old I am and how many members I have in my family]. 

I've also read (only) 10 books in less than 3 weeks, and while this is supposed to be a blog about traveling, technically it says adventures, and books are adventures, so I'm going to talk about them. The first I read we're the first four books in the Artemis Fowl series, by Eoin Colfer. A young adult series about a brilliant young criminal who manages to land himself in the secret fairy world via stealing their gold. Lots of good characters, very good for a young adult story. Apparently there are more than 4, but unfortunately they weren't at Peace Corps when I was there. After that, I read "The Tao of Pooh," by Benjamin Hoff, an excellent book about how Winnie the Pooh is the epitome of Taoism. Pretty short, and has a lot of funny dialogues between the narrator and Pooh and the other awesome characters. Ater that, I read a book called "The Man who Loved Books too much". Written by a journalist for the NY times, it's a true story about a book thief, not an ordinary book thief, but a thief of collectible books: first editions, manuscripts, signed copies, etc.  Books that cost hundreds to tens of thousands of dollars. The author, journalist Allison Hoover Bartlett, writes about her conversations with the thief himself, while in and out of jail, and also some of the book sellers he's stolen from, most specifically one collector, named Ken Sanders, who becomes a private detective on the side, only to catch this particular thief. What caught me about this book, apart from the subject material, was the writing.  Staying true to her journalistic style, the descriptions of the book stores were some of the best I've ever read. If you didn't want to own your own old-fashioned book store before reading this, you will now. The other 4 books were "Tuck Everlasting," a couple Sherlock Holmes stories, and "Pride and Prejudice," which hardly need any recommendations from me. 

Other than that, I like to listen to music on my iPad. Cambodians seem to have a special affinity for Simon and Garfunkel. 

Finally, I happen to live very close to an airport, so when everyone who reads this blog instantly falls in love with Cambodia based on my amazing descriptions, and decides to come visit me in Cambodia, it'll be no problem for me to pick you up at the airport. 

In which I write about everything

I asked my very good friend, Shiri, what I should write about on here, and she answered 'everything', so here goes. 

Right now I am lying on an actual bed in a hotel room in Phnom Penh, watching CNN and feeling horribly out of touch with everything not Cambodia. On Friday is a swear-in ceremony in which I finally become an official volunteer. After that, we are shipped off to our separate provinces, where we do all sorts of Peace Corps volunteery stuff. My province is Siem Reap, and there are 4ish other volunteers going there as well. 

Leaving my first host family was intensely sad, lots of crying. I've been trying to talk to them a bit on the phone, but speaking Khmer on the phone is a whole new ball game. I promised to visit them whenever I have time, and will try to get them to visit me in Siem Reap. 

My last couple weeks in Samrong were awesome, my host family spoiled me all the time, lots of little gifts and cakes, and not making me eat a whole bowl of rice. I got to do some stuff with string, don't ask me what, but it had something to do with the loom. I also learned that even when you are hand washing all of your laundry, you still end up with an odd number of clean socks. 

Today we had a lot of sessions at the Peace Corps buildings, of which there are a lot more than I was expecting. There's a nice volunteer lounge that has a huge library. I checked out approximately 10 books. 

A couple weekends ago, my family had a professional photographer come and take a family photo to hang up. They took me to get my first ever mani pedi beforehand. 

My beautiful younger sister in her fancy party outfit. We had a whole fashion show that night of all of her party outfits. I have about 45 pictures of her on my iPad now. 

Me, Samnang, one of my Khmer teachers, and my friend Jeff, who is going to Siem Reap with me as well. Samnang is the Khmer word for luck. 

Khnyom sraw-line Kampuchea. Samnang laor dayung awh-k'nee-ah nov Americ. N'yam Bai!

In which I disclaim

A mandatory Peace Corps disclaimer which I completely forgot about. Oops. 

The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

And here is Kennedy's speech regarding the creation of Peace Corps. Enjoy!

In which I have an OK Saturday (Bumped up from depressing, because they fed us delicious pizza.)

As a warning, those without stout heart should be wary of this post. (Eh hem, mom.)

I debated with myself a lot about whether I should go through with this post, but I finally decided to post it, because I think that the magnitude of all the events that happened during the Khmer Rouge is not well enough known by many, so here goes. 

The rain was a good reflection of our mood when we visited the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, and the Choeng Ek Genocidal Center. (Aka The Killing Fields)  First, we visited the Tuol Sleng Museum, formerly known as Office S.21. Previously, these buildings were used as elementary and high schools, but from 1975-1979, the 4 buildings were used as prison cells and interrogation rooms. Each classroom was divided into 8-10 prison cells, usually about .8x2 meters. There were no doors, because the prisoners were always chained by the ankle. You could still see the dried blood stained on the tiled floors. Each building is wrapped in layers of barbed wire, not to prevent anyone from escaping, but to prevent the prisoners from committing suicide by jumping from the 3rd floor. This particular security office, because it was located in Phnom Penh, housed the personal prisoners of the Khmer Rouge, including intellectuals, foreigners, political activists, and traitors. There was a rope climbing station in the courtyard, that was then used as a torture device. The prisoners were hung upside down until they fell unconscious, then splashed in the face with human waste in order to quickly regain consciousness, and continue the interrogation. On the way out of the museum were 2 of the survivors from this office, selling signed copies of their books. (I regret not buying one, now, but at the time, I wasn't particularly in the mood to read anything more about this.)  over 20,000 people died at this office alone, and there were only 7 survivors. They survived because they were artists, musicians, or engineers that could help with the propaganda of the Khmer Rouge. 

After this particularly enlightening museum, Peace Corps was kind enough to buy us all pizza. Per van, there was (supposed to be) 1 vegetarian pizza, 1 seafood, 1 meat lover's, and 1 chicken barbecue. All delicious. Only downside was that we had to eat it all in the van, on the way to the next museum. Good thing I did my laundry this morning. 

Next stop was "The Killing Fields."  This was where they took those about to die and those already dead. This place was discovered in 1980, when after a flood, some potato farmers found loads of washed up bones. They didn't use guns to kill anyone there, because bullets were too expensive, and only used for the war against Vietnam. People were thus killed by any number of objects, usually beaten with stones or axes, or by simply cutting their throats. Thousands of babies were killed by being smashed against trees. This was because under the Khmer Rouge regime, when one member of a family is executed for some reason, the rest of the family is also executed, so that there is no one left to try to take revenge. The bodies were then thrown into dozens of pits. Sometimes people who were only almost dead were thrown into the puts as well. They also had a chemical facility which helped to block the smell of decay, and also loudspeakers to drown out the sounds of those about to die. 

At the very beginning of the Khmer Rouge, all of the Cambodian people were forced to evacuate to the countryside. Huge cities became ghost towns. Most of these people had just recently fled to the cities to escape the bombs coming from American planes during the Vietnam war. In the countryside, they were forced to work 20 hours per day farming and building dams, on less than 1/4 of a can of rice. Hospitals were evacuated, and the ill were also forced to work in these same conditions. Those who didn't follow the rules, or made any sort of mistake were taken to one of the prison offices, or killed on the spot. Near the time when extreme malnutrition set in, the government began enforcing forced marriages, because not enough children were being born. Each day, hundreds of people were gathered to marry someone whom they probably had never met before. 

No one is completely sure why all of this happened, we know that Pol Pot, the leader of the Khmer Rouge, was extremely paranoid, but we don't know why. He studied engineering in Paris, where he learned all of these extreme ideologies, along with the other leaders of the regime. In the end, the Khmer Rouge lasted for 3 years, 8 months, and 20 days, with several million deaths. In 1979, Vietnam finally invaded Cambodia, and took over Phnom Penh all in less than an hour. The Vietnamese ruled for many decades after that, until the United Nations finally came to an agreement to intercede.  Cambodia was declared to be in a state of peace in 1991. 

This particular genocide has a lot of differences from others in history, but the main one for me is that everyone around me over the age of 34 was alive during this time. I'm not sure specifically how my family was involved, (mostly because of the language barrier) but everyone was affected. I've heard so many times of how someone's parents, or sister or brother was killed during this time. You really don't know what to say to that. 

In which I introduce pop culture to Cambodia

7/29/13

Day 1 of week 3 and the dogs still have the traffic around here figured out better than I have. I mentioned earlier that I have been eating a lot of food that I couldn't possibly identify, some of which include rambutan, lychee, turnips, morning glory, lychee, and this one yellow fruit that is not to be eaten, but only to be smelled. 

There are 3 young girls who live next door to me. There's Sok Naa, the eldest at 11, very responsible and intelligent, Sit Lim, the middle child, shy but artistic, and the youngest, Julie, who is 5 years old, and the loudest girl on the street. There really isn't an ounce of shyness in her, and lately she's been walking around wearing only pants or a skirt. At this point, I take it as a complement that she feels comfortable enough to not feel the need to be fully clothed around me. The four of us spent several hours last Sunday coloring with the multi-colored pens that I brought from the States. At first they didn't want to draw more than fruit, because they were embarrassed that they couldn't draw as well as me, (except Julie, she drew whatever her heart desired) but they soon saw that my drawing skills are nothing to be intimidated by. I even showed them how to draw Perry the Platypus. Unfortunately, I don't yet know the Khmer word for platypus. 

This here is a picture of my p'dayah. As you can see, there is a net tied from the roof, over me, and to the tree behind me. I'll let you know why it's there when my level of Khmer is adequate enough to ask those kinds of questions. 

My bedroom is up the stairs and in the window on the left. The bathroom is downstairs in the back, behind the cows. Apparently, my dad's favorite story to tell people about my house is that I usually have to step over a sleeping cow or two in order to get to the bathroom. I guess that does portray the situation here pretty accurately. 

And finally, a warm welcome to the newest addict of Candy Crush, my sister Dany. She only started playing yesterday, and is already on level 12. Yeah. 

In which I survive my first week in Cambodia

Sewah S'day! 

I'm writing this a few days in advance so I have more time to write, well, everything. Today is the first day of the rainy season. There was a special ceremony at the temple this morning, where all the families brought food to the monks. During the rainy season, every family brings food in a special ceremonial food-bringer, (which my ba is holding below) because Buddha does not allow the monks to go out in the rain. 

In other news, the Cambodian election is being held this Sunday, and saying that tensions are running high would be an understatement. Parades of vans and trucks overflowing with people waving flags and banners are constant throughout the day, (which makes riding one's bike while trying to avoid traffic an art form.) and there are loudspeakers in every village blaring from dawn till dusk. 

Staying true to the season, it hasn't stopped raining for a couple days now, and luckily I haven't yet been caught biking in a monsoon. Only a matter of time. 

I have school usually from 8am to 12pm, when I go home to eat lunch with my family, and then return to school at 1:30, and come back for dinner at 5 or 6. After n'yam bai, I bust out my Khmer homework for my family to help me with, and sometimes I teach them some English in return. During school, 4 hours are for learning Khmer, and the other 4 for technical training, which ranges from history and culture in Cambodia, to how to teach Khmer people English. The village that I'm living in now is called Samrong, (in case anyone wanted to look me up in Google Earth) located in the province of Takeo. 

My mosquito net, aka my safe haven at night time. 

While I am amazed with how much Khmer we have learns in little over a week, it is even more impressive how practiced my sisters and I have become at charades. It's only a matter of time until we will only need our gestures to communicate with one another. I am extremely grateful to my older sister, Tiri, for bringing me clothes shopping. For, not only is my Khmer not quite up to par in that I could both buy fabrics and have them tailored, but I am also the worst at bartering, which will result in me over paying for nearly everything whilst I shop in Cambodia. As a result, I bought 3 button-up blouses, 3 sampot skirts, and 1 sarong, and had them all tailored to me, all for under $30. Thank you, borng s'rai. 

Dining table

Backyard

In which I finally find some Internet

So, Cambodia. So much to tell everyone, so little time. Where to start? 

Here is my older brother and sister, tiri and nayim.  My family spoils me, feeding me hot chocolate for breakfast, and constantly helping me with my Khmer. 

This is my little sister Dany, she is also very nice, and likes to laugh at my Khmer attempts.  Here she is working on the loom to make a sampot skirt to sell in Phnom Penh.  

Cambodia is beautiful, my house is beautiful, the farm is beautiful.  I live near the primary school, where we have our language lessons in the morning.  In the afternoons we bike over to the high school for our technical training, which ranges from the history of Cambodia to peer teaching. We eat rice for nearly every meal, with various meats and vegetables that I usually have a hard time identifying, but are nevertheless delicious. The best part of biking to school is passing by villages and having all the little children drop what they're doing to shout "hello!" (In English) to the foreigners biking by with their big backpack, wearing their helmets. I also really enjoy just spending time with my family, Khmer dictionary in hand.  My family doesn't speak any English, but at this point we have all become very practiced at charades. There are many small kids that live near me that have started coming over in the evening to help me with my Khmer, while I teach them some English in return. They're all very good at counting to 10, but the interesting thing is that they can't identify individual numbers without counting.  This shows me some of the techniques that the Cambodian teachers use.  

Here is my mosquito net, which has become something like a safe haven for all volunteers.  Normally you tuck it under the mattress pad during the night, and then tie it up during the day to prevent any crawlers from getting stuck. 

This is the view from my bedroom. 

My sisters tiri and Dany with some neighboring kids.

The neighbor grandma and her grandbaby.  She always makes sure I eat enough of my rice, to make me nice and strong for bike riding. (At least I'm pretty sure that's what she's saying to me)

Rice fields 

Ding, the family dog, whom I have never petted nor talked to as was instructed to me, yet now he has started sleeping on my feet during dinner. 

And finally, the primary school near my house. During the summer, many of the students take private lessons, which are much less controlled by the curriculum and usually a lot more fun for the students, and more flexible and thus effective for the teachers. 

I shall try to update this every week when we visit Takeo.  My home is in Samrong, and I have yet to find Internet. I miss you all (especially my puppy) and hope everyone is doing well!