I Miss Your Face like Hell

In July I mark my seventh year of having lived in Cambodia, and I find myself looking back on this journey and the people who have been with me along the road of my life so far.

A year from now we'll all be gone
All our friends will move away
And they're going to better places
But our friends will be gone away

I received my invitation to Peace Corps Cambodia the day I graduated from college. Already I was at a crossroads in my life, with friends graduating and moving and considering my own next home, knowing only that it would not be back in Indiana. A few weeks before my flight, Jessie, Steph, and I attended a concert in Millennium Park where I first heard The Head and The Heart play Rivers and Roads. The refrain echoed on and on with tears welling in my eyes, standing next to two amazing people and thinking of all the others in my life and how we were spreading not just across the nation but across the world…. Rivers and roads….rivers and roads till I reach you….

Sitting alone in OHare and waiting for my flight, I put that same song on repeat as I read through letters from friends filled with words of love and well-wishing and the promises not to drift apart. Life is not static, though, and goodbyes are inevitable. With hope and hard work those goodbyes are not eternal, but, even when they are, the people on our journeys are an integral part of shaping the path ahead of us. Sometimes our paths converge again, and I rejoice when they do, but I know that my loved ones have their own paths to follow to their own better places. And this is the path I must take.

Nothing is as it has been
And I miss your face like Hell
And I guess it's just as well
But I miss your face like Hell

You all are living your own best lives, and I am so proud and in awe of each and every one of you: whether raising the next generation of fabulous individuals, serving in your dream job, and/or still figuring yourself and your path out. Whether you know it or not – whether you intend to or not - all of you are changing the world around you for the better. With the world seeming to crumble around us, my heart is lightened being reminded of those of you in my life and knowing that goodness and love prevails in people.

It is just as well. But, god, I miss your face like hell.

Been talking 'bout the way things change
And my family lives in a different state
And if you don't know what to make of this
Then we will not relate
So if you don't know what to make of this
Then we will not relate

While I was preparing to leave for what should have been just two years of service with Peace Corps, my mom commented that she felt like she was saying goodbye forever and that I would not return.

I know you sometimes feel I abandoned you – sometimes I feel that way myself – but please know that I left a piece of my heart with you and there it will remain.

Rivers and roads can create a chasm of loneliness. Whether it’s remembering those on the path behind us or saying goodbye to someone taking a different fork ahead of us, whether that person is family or friend, distance is a tangible ache.

Rivers and roads
Rivers and roads
Rivers 'til I reach you

But over rivers and roads, I’m also converging paths with new people. Even more, I’m learning to love and learn across the rivers and roads of culture and language and I hope creating a bridge for others to do the same.

We cannot explore new roads without first leaving our current ones and crossing those rivers to new adventures and new people to know and to love.

Rivers and roads
Oh rivers and roads
Oh rivers 'til I reach you

I’ve been so privileged to live in a world where rivers and roads are not eternal barriers as technology connects us all. I’m sorry to everyone with whom I have not maintained a strong enough bridge through time and space. Know that you are missed.

Rivers and roads
Rivers and roads
Rivers 'til I reach you

Why I'm a Peace Corps Volunteer

Peace Corps focuses on relationships. Of its three main goals, two are about the results of those relationships. It’s about making this world smaller, about connecting people and places. 

I knew nothing about Cambodia when I received my invitation to serve here with Peace Corps, barely even knew it was a country. If I had ever been taught about the Khmer Rouge, I didn’t remember. I stepped off the plane in Phnom Penh full of ignorance but excited to learn.

And I have learned. But more than that, I have loved. I love the people I have met. I love my host family, my work colleagues, my friends, and even my breakfast seller. So when I’m asked when I’m going home and fellow Americans express shock that I could want to stay in Cambodia past my tenure with Peace Corps, I ache. I ache because if I’m getting that question and receiving that surprise, then I haven’t done my job.

Honestly, I doubt my Bachelor’s degree in English Literature can make much of a development difference in Cambodia. But I hope that it can help me put my love for these people into words, to make this world a bit smaller and connect my American family and friends with my Cambodian family and friends. That’s why I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer.

Elie Wiesel, a survivor of a different genocide, posits that peace is found in relationships: “We must not see any person as an abstraction. Instead, we must see in every person a universe with its own secrets, with its own treasures, with its own sources of anguish, and with some measure of triumph.”

Cambodia has been experiencing protests and has had a strong minority of Senate seats unfilled due to those protests since July. I’d wager that not many Americans are aware of that. This world is a large place, and we all end up picking and choosing to whom to extend our attention and empathy. The remaining places are merely ‘the other,’ an abstraction of a place in the world where we barely blink an eye when someone is hurting.

And while I understand these limitations on empathy, I still rage against them. Because when a place – and the people in that place – becomes that ‘other,’ we begin to fail at ‘recognizing the humanity in others,’ at ‘seeing the dignity in every other human being everywhere’ (Desmond Tutu; Kurt Vonnegut).

My Peace Corps experience - my purpose in being here with this agency - is to bring Cambodia to life for my fellow Americans, to ensure that Cambodians get some small measure of Americans’ attention and empathy. To bring my love for these people, this place, to life through stories and pictures. My goal is to have you look into their eyes and realize that these people are not abstractions. They are mothers and fathers and sons and daughters and neighbors and friends and lovers. They are flawed. They are beautiful. They are not projects or objects for the charity of pity. They are human beings the same as you and me.

My hope is that you can love them through me and that that love will change the way you live.

My mother. She goes without much needed medical attention to make sure there's enough money for her grandchildren to be healthy and educated.

My boyfriend. I feel truly calm and happy in his presence. He works as a driver but puts his effort into a community school to increase love of learning in his village.

My niece and nephew. Every time I visit, I am met on the road with shouts of glee and bear hugs. My nephew has watch Mulan 12 times. My niece loves to dance.

My sister and my niece, two of the strongest, most independent women I know. And they look damned good in a dress.

My nephew, a typical teenager: he's at the top of his class, stalks pretty girls on facebook, and is saving up to take a road trip with his friends.

My favorite aunt, seen here laughing hysterically with my best friend. She's a midwife at the same health center where her husband is the director. I love to watch how in love they are.

My friend. He's the main teacher at Countryside Class, which he did for two years on a volunteer basis. He has shared with the students his love of song and dance, and they recently performed and studied in workshops at Create Cambodia.

My boyfriend's niece and the giver of the best hugs in Cambodia. She is one of the funniest and most gregarious kids I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

My friend and his son at their home in Pursat. He is the most trusted tuk tuk driver in Phnom Penh.

My favorite tuk tuk driver in Siem Reap, who became a great friend when he was the guide for Vaughn, Jessie, and I. He works hard for his parents and siblings and spends as much time as he can helping at an orphanage.

Some of the teachers at my school in Svay Rieng. This picture was taken at a Christmas party they threw so I wouldn't be homesick. They all pitched in so we could eat at my favorite restaurant.

My favorite class of students. They were all good-spirited goofballs. 

When Peace Corps Volunteers Fall in Love

Peace Corps, at its core, is all about relationships. The agency's relationship with the host country's government. The Volunteers' relationships with their host families. With their work counterparts. With others in their communities. With people outside their communities. And their relationships with fellow Volunteers. 

And, every once in awhile, it becomes a romantic relationship between a Volunteer and someone from their host country...

This is my good friend Vaughn. He arrived with me in July 2011 as part of Cambodia's 5th group of Peace Corps Volunteers.A bit over a year ago one of his Cambodian friends introduced him to Sreymao. This past weekend they were married. 

Sean, Saeed, and I were grateful to be able to participate in the ceremonies on behalf of the groom since Vaughn's family could not attend. Cambodian culture and tradition are rich and intricate, and even though the family opted for a much smaller event in which every traditional ceremony was not performed, the day was full of beauty and complexity.

The evening before Vaughn and Sreymao joined her parents and Vaughn's stand-in parents to pray to their ancestors. They made an offering of rice and other foods and burnt incense with a prayer. Vaughn and Sreymao promised to maintain their union with honor in order to keep blessing upon the entire family. As a symbol of these promises, each of them placed a set of clothing in a red box to keep present during the following day's festivities. 

That night we also got busy preparing the groom's dowry. Each silver plate was filled with colorful and flavorful fruits, wrapped in saran wrap, and topped with a bow. Every plate had its pair, an identical plate so that the day's procession could go two-by-two. In addition to the fruit, the dowry included drinks, crackers, and a pig's head.

In the morning, not long after sunrise, we completed the groom's processional. The groom must arrive at the bride's gate with the agreed upon dowry in hand in order to receive the parents' permission to enter and meet the bride. If the bride and groom are from the same village, the processional starts at his house and might take quite some time to complete. Since we couldn't exactly walk from Minnesota, we simply walked out the gate, lined up, and walked right back in.

The sunrise processional, though, did not start our day. We were up at 3am to attend to the bride and prepare her for the day. Around 4am was one of the most beautiful ceremonies, in my opinion. The officiator, seen in the white shirt with his back to the camera, led a back-and-forth conversation among the groom and bride and their parents. They talked about love and respect, both within their couple and within their families. Similar to the unity candle tradition in the States, each parent, two on each side, lit a candle and held that flame to light a candle held jointly by Vaughn and Sreymao. Sreymao marks this as the moment that they were officially considered married in the traditional sense. 

All of these ceremonies are so beget in history and tradition that each one has its own soundtrack of sorts. 

A short clip of the band's playing can be found here:

After the groom's processional, some of the guests stayed out in the yard while the closest family and friends went upstairs for a few more ceremonies. First, one of Sreymao's relatives performed the duty of 'matchmaker' and introduced both Vaughn and Sreymao as well as the idea of them as a couple. She presents their qualifications for the approval of the parents and the officiator. 

Somewhat less traditionally, Vaughn and Sreymao re-exchanged their engagement/wedding rings. The photographer snapped away as first Vaughn placed the ring on her finger and then kissed her hand. Sreymao then did the same for him. Finally, they asked Vaughn to present Sreymao with a red rose, which he flourished to her with playful exageration.  

After a clothing change (of which there were many over the course of the day - I recall at least 5 different outfits), we performed the knot tying ceremony. Family and close friends presented the bride and groom with an envelope of money, which they placed between both their hands, sprinkled them with water, and then tied a red string of their wrists. These red strings are the most visible notification that someone was recently married as it is customary to wear them until they fall off (anything under three days will not preserve the good luck of the blessings). Many couples will save a few of the strings to tie to the wrists or ankles of their future children.

Starting around the time of the processional and continuing throughout the day guests arrived to share in the ceremonies or simply the breakfast or lunch and the dancing which went until about 4pm. As each guest arrived, they were presented with a small gift from the new couple. Seen here below are two adorable girls waiting to pass out red envelopes of 200 riel (about 5 cents) to arriving guests.

Even though Vaughn's American family could not come, he was not without those who loved him. His host family from Svay Rieng Province made the trip to Prey Veng to offer their congratulations. 

In all, we arrived at Sreymao's house at about 4pm on Saturday and didn't stop celebrating until late on Sunday. The event may have been exhausting, but the newlyweds sure were happy.

I Love My Khmer Family

Me: Can I come visit next weekend?

Sister: Why are you asking? It’s your house too. Come and go as you want!

Happy Independence Day!

November 11, 2013 - 70th Anniversary

Peace Corps Highlights

During my third year of Peace Corps service in Cambodia, the Kingdom of Wonder, I’m living apart from my host family of my first two years. Now, I live in the capital city Phnom Penh while my parents, sisters, brother-in-law, nieces, and nephews live a three-hour van ride away in Svay Rieng Province. My family has been the defining aspect of my time in Cambodia, and phone calls throughout the week are not enough the quench the loneliness I feel living apart from them. So I visit them as often as I can, which, sadly, isn’t often enough. Here are just some of highlights from this past weekend I got to spend with them:

* Cuddling with Chayna (6 years old) and Neath (2 years old) as we watched movie after movie. I think Chayna has watched Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs more than any other person.

* Helping Loem (16 years old) understand what was wrong with his facebook account and all of us laughing hysterically as we discovered that he was temporarily suspended from adding friends since he tried to add pretty girl after pretty girl to an excessive degree.

* My dad walking into the house after work yelling, ‘Hello!’ That was the first time I’ve ever heard him speak English.

* My sister and I gossiping about the men in the village.

* My mother demanding that I again sleep in the main room with everyone because my old room upstairs is too far away.

* Taking Chayna and Neath to the local pagoda by bicycle, me wearing an old motorbike helmet (per Peace Corps policy) and the kids sitting on the luggage rack in the back.

* Several of the teachers stopping by the house to take me and my sister out for soup.

* My aunts and uncles coming over for dinner. And bringing the beer.

* Having Neath follow me everywhere and even waiting outside the bathroom door because she would cry if I left her sight.

* Being sent home with more than 5 pounds of carrots and cucumbers because my mom doesn’t want me to worry about going to the Phnom Penh markets.

I was nervous about moving to Phnom Penh, scared to be on my own without the love, support, and encouragement of living with a host family. And, while I’m still saddened to be so far from my Svay Rieng family, I’m finding that I’ll also have a family here in my landlord and fellow tenants.

My landlord, 79 years old and a former professor turned entrepreneur, is fulfilling a grandfather-esque roll for me in his repeated warnings to always double check my locks and never to travel with my passport. He and his wife are keeping me supplied with gifts of fruit.

My downstairs neighbor saw me taking my clothes to the laundromat around the corner and struck up a conversation about why I wasn’t washing my clothes myself. We talked about my work and travel schedule and how I haven’t had the needed free time to wash my things by hand, even though that’s what I prefer. Later that week she stopped me on my way upstairs to tell me to come to her with my laundry this weekend; she has a washing machine she wants me to use.

Her husband, who was visiting from another province where he watches the land while his wife watches the children in Phnom Penh, has spent a couple hours chatting with me in Khmer, being patient with my gaps in language knowledge. We’ve discussed Syria, economics, unemployment, Detroit, and Rwanda. He’s also told me his Khmer Rouge story. And, after asking where I’m from in the States, he looked it up on a map and we discussed the geography of my state, the surrounding states, and their proximity to Toronto, where he has family. He says he’d love to have me join their family trip to Bokor Mountain in a few months.

And then there’s Leak, the tailor on the ground floor, who is always there with a warm smile and friendly comment with her precocious daughter who reminds me so much of my niece Neath.

At the beginning of my third year in Cambodia through the Peace Corps, I am constantly grateful for the people whom I’ve met and the relationships we’ve formed together. I feel incredibly blessed to have had not just one amazing host family here but now this new ‘family’ as well.

They’re loving their new skateboard, curtesy of Leslie C. Thanks from me and from them!

I called my favorite aunt today to tell her that I was back in country and visiting her town tomorrow. I mark it as a language win that I had to identify myself because my accent no longer immediately betrayed me as the only foreigner who ever calls her.

Breaking My Heart

Nephew: Grandma, what did you mean that Aunt 'Tin is leaving soon?

Grandma: She's leaving our house. She's moving to Kandal to work there.

Nephew: What did you do to make her mad?!

I’ve begun trying to speak to the baby in English, and most of the time she can figure out my meaning but when she can’t, she pauses, looks me in the eye, nods slowly, and continues about her business. It makes me laugh every time because that’s my exact response when I don’t understand what’s being asked of me in Khmer.

The Day's Reflection - 28 April 2013

My school slows to a start in October and faces holidays and exams in February closely followed by more exams in March after which it doesn’t usually resume till the end of April or the beginning of May. Final exams are in the beginning to mid of June. So, essentially, the most productive teaching months are November, December, and January.

Well, this year, I was sick during December and January so my school attendance was spotty and my teaching mojo less than adequate. So now that school is in its last months (which are really weeks), I’m looking back and feeling regret at my contribution as a Peace Corps Volunteer in the English Teaching sector. 

Today helped ease those regrets. 

Yes, a goal of my service here is to provide technical assistance as requested by the host country’s government. But there are two more goals, and those goals are focused on cultural exchange. Today helped enforce and reminded me to appreciate that the greatest product of my work with Peace Corps is the relationship I have with my host family.

As my time in Svay Rieng is coming to an end, I had planned to make the most of it by taking my bike out every day to visit people and places and take a lot of pictures. Well, as soon as that plan formed, I ended up with stitches in my knee cap and am still not cleared to ride my bike again. So I’ve been spending a lot of time at the house, which, while bringing me to feelings of restlessness, has also forged an even deeper relationship with my amazing family here. 

So here’s a list of just a few of the moments today that made me reflect and smile about how my life has been changed by these people:

* The baby coming to me in frequent intervals to give me a hug or put her head on my lap or kiss my cheek or just smile at me

* My sister and I teasing each other about who is the stupidest

* My family planning what wedding present to send to my friend Kelsey who has sent a few care packages for my family

* Sprawling out on the floor with my niece, nephew, and mom as we wrote thank you notes to Dave and Kelsey for the new clothes they sent for the kids

* My mother telling me not to repay the $1.25 that I had to borrow for a taxi to town yesterday

* My father letting me know that he cut down some mangoes for me to eat; my mother apologizing for forgetting to have me take pictures of my father in the tree and telling me that in a couple days he’ll climb it again and that I can take a picture to show to my parents in America and tell them that my Khmer father loves me so much that he became a monkey to get me my favorite fruit

* My nephew calling me to lay in the hammock with him where he, the baby, and I practiced our letters and numbers in Khmer and English

* Teaching the baby to say ‘I love you!’

Khmer Conversation #5

*Cow approaches the back door during dinner; father begins talking to Cow*

Father: Eat rice with us?

Cow: ....

Father: Where are you going, Cow?

Cow: ....

Father: *offers watermelon to Cow*

Cow: *walks away*

Father: *shrugs; eats watermelon*

(posted March 28, 2012)