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

What I Learned from Peace Corps:

How to Communicate

For the past five years, I’ve been living in a constant state of miscommunication. 

I never realized how much my own self was defined by language until it was gone. For the past two years, only a tiny percentage of my daily communication has been with native English speakers. And of those, the majority are Australian or British, while I myself am American. Bit by bit, over these past two years, I’ve watched as pieces of myself have floated away: My vocabulary. My grammar. My sarcasm. My pop culture references.

I have always loved language: Structure. Order. Persuasion. Beauty. Language makes us as much as we make it. When you look to the roots of language, you can find how inextricably tied it is to the culture surrounding it. Both constantly evolve as either takes on newness. 

Coming from the Midwest, I stereotypically had had minimal exposure to other languages, so when I joined Peace Corps Cambodia in 2011, I was in for quite a shock. At my going-away toast at the end of my service (more like a roast…thanks, guys), one of the Program Managers remarked that when he first met me, I spoke so quickly that he doubted I’d ever be understood by a Cambodian English-learner.  

Two years into my service, I had this to say about language and communication:

The way you communicate will completely transform. Learning a language from scratch through immersion is a powerful experience. You will learn to have complex communications though expressions, gestures, and basic vocabulary. You will learn to bond with another human being through silence. You will answer the same basic questions over and over and over again. You may never achieve the ability to discuss ideas and concepts. You will develop a new English language which consists of pared down vocabulary and grammatical structures. You will actively think of each word before you speak. Your speech patterns will slow. You will have to define words whose meanings you had always taken for granted. You will learn to listen. 

Thinking About Peace Corps?

Now, approaching my 5th anniversary in Cambodia, having moved from Peace Corps Volunteer to senior management at an education NGO and having progressed from a Cambodian boyfriend to a Cambodian fiancé, I have a few things to add.

I miss being eloquent. I miss seeming intelligent (or simply not stupid). I miss being understood.

I’m actually quite functional in Khmer by this point. I can speak, read, write and type (a fact that actually saddens me as many Cambodians are themselves not given the opportunity to achieve that). But the intricacies still elude me, and even the way I speak Khmer is still impacted by my American-ness. In Khmer, I still use the word ‘sorry’ with the frequency that only an American could, and I struggle to adapt to the lengthy language of appropriateness and politeness in formal Khmer situations.

When I was still a Peace Corps Volunteer, these miscommunications and lack of understanding were bearable and, most of the time, amusing. I still chuckle at the time I told an elderly woman that her son had ‘f@*ked’ me a lot as opposed to ‘helped’ (two such opposing words should never be allowed to have such similar sounds….). And, before, when I was the only English speaker at an event and got lost in the conversation, I could just tune out and play Snake on my little Nokia. 

In my current position, though, a lot rides on my understanding and being understood. This level of responsibility highlights my language failures every day. When a little kid mocks my accent, it’s no longer obnoxious. It’s painful. When I walk out of a meeting thinking we’d reached consenus only to find the opposite playing out, I ache at my failure. Just learning more vocabulary is not enough because communication is much more than mere words. It’s also patterns and culture. To be eloquent in Khmer is a level which I fear I can never achieve. 

To try to counter this, I’ve worked to adapt to find the bare-bottom necessities of communication. In both English and Khmer, I pare down words as well as abandon elegance and subtlety in order to be understood. Those parts of myself, though, I miss every day. I miss the power I used to feel from my command of a language.

In the midst of self-pitying, I must remember that this is a two-way street. I respect that everyone who communicates with me - either in Khmer or English - is also sacrificing a part of their selves to try to find common ground with me. I look to my amazing host mother who told me of her family’s experience under the Khmer Rouge via charades; she sacrificed the pain and emotion and importance of her language so that I could understand. I look to my fiancé who lives our relationship in a language that is not his own so that we can grow together.

Beyond mere miscommunication, I’m increasingly frustrated by finding how closely our opinions of others are correlated to their ability to communicate in our preferred language. When someone cannot understand us, it’s easy to write them off, to assume it’s the concept they can’t understand as opposed to the words. In my experience, I’ve found this to go both ways. I’ve heard foreigners mock Cambodian waitstaff for not catching the request from the customer. I’ve also been on the receiving end of these assumptions of incompetence, and I’ve had to resist to urge to respond as Sofia Vergara inModern Family: 

I’m working daily to remember this tendency to patronize based on language abilities and to recall when talking to others to dumb down only the language and never the ideas. I must look back to my early days in Peace Corps when learning Khmer was a pipe dream and recall that I could achieve understanding with someone through silence. While I may miss English full and bountiful in its boldness and abstractness, words are not the end-all, be-all of communication. Where words may fail, communication is supplemented by action and mutual kindness.  While not foregoing the need to continue my Khmer studies, I need to abandon my fetish with words (sorry, English teachers….).

Ultimately, it’s my responsibility when I feel misunderstood as I did not employ my full arsenal of communication. I must look back to my host mom who would daily work around words to help me understand. I must look back to my own words from three years ago and remember all of the complex conversations that I have had through ‘expressions, gestures, and basic vocabulary.’

I’m not being misunderstood. I am miscommunicating. 

Batteries

As the K8s are about to arrive and join Peace Corps Cambodia, we've begun the Training of Trainers for our Language and Cross-Cultural Facilitators. In preparing one of my sessions, I came across this Peace Corps story in the book Culture Matters; this story, it seems to me, embodies the beauty and potential of Peace Corps' goals of cultural exchange and relationship building:

I hadn't timed it right. The village I had to get to was still an hour away when night fell. Walking in the dark was a nuisance; also, it had been raining since early afternoon. Worst of all, as I leaned against the wall of the chauntara and felt the blessed release from the weight of my backpack, I discovered my flashlight batteries were dead. The hour ahead was shaping up poorly.

As I stood there in the rain, my glasses fogged, drinking from my water bottle, an old woman came around the bend, bent over under a stack of firewood. She headed for the chauntara, her eyes down, and nearly walked into me, looking up suddenly when she saw my feet. 'Namaste,' she said, shifting her load onto the wall. 'Kaha jaane?'
'To the village,' I said.
'Tonight? It's dark and your shirt is wet.' Then, more urgently, 'You're the American, aren't you?
'My son is in America,' she said. She didn't look like the type whose son would be in America. 'He joined the army, the Gurkhas, and they sent him there for training. Three months ago. He's a country boy. I worry. You need some tea before you go on.'
After ten minutes, we were at her small house beside the trail. She doffed the firewood and turned to me, 'Take off your shirt.' I looked surprised. 'I'll dry it by the fire in the kitchen. Put on this blanket.'
A few minutes later she came out of the kitchen with two mugs of tea, swept a hapless chicken off the table, and pulled up a bench for me. The tea worked wonders, bringing back my courage for the walk ahead. She offered me food, too, but I declined, explaining that I didn't want to be on the trail too late at night. 'It's OK,' she said. 'You have a flashlight.'
She fetched my shirt. I put it on, revived by the warmth against my skin, and went outside to hoist my pack. I turned to thank her. 'Switch on your flashlight,' she told me.

'The batteries are dead.' She went inside and came back with two batteries, a considerable gift for someone of her means.
'I couldn't,' I said. 'Besides, I know the trail.'
'Take them.' She smiled, showing great gaps where teeth had once been.
'You've been very kind to me,' I said.
'My son is in America,' she said. 'Some day, on the trail, he will be cold and wet. Maybe a mother in your land will help him.'

Check it Out!

Conclusion of Hun Sen Prosaut Water Project

The water tank is finally finished! Thanks to Jessie, Alex, Pryce, Tom and Sally, Jon and Susie, Barbara, and Coleen!

I Was in a Khmer Play!

Over Khmer New Year, I went up to Battambang to help out with Sambath and Sambon's program with Countryside Class. As part of the 3 nights of entertainment they put on at Kampongseyma Pagoda, the kids worked together to write and act out a play, which they generously invited me to take part in. So here's 'I was in a Khmer play!' (part 1).

Victory!

Over Khmer New Year, Countryside Class worked with World Vision to put on three nights of entertainment at Kampongseyma Pagoda in Battambang Province. Part of the festivities were traditional games, which I got to take part in on the final night. You’re allowed only three swings, so Sambath says I cheated; I maintain, however, that I was merely seeking with a wide sweep and succeeded on my third hit.

Peace Corps Cambodia's Website Launches!

One of my main responsibilities as Peace Corps Volunteer Leader in Cambodia has been to manage the creation of Peace Corps Cambodia’s social media presence. As part of Peace Corps’ new recruitment initiative of allowing recruits more choice in where they want to serve, each post has been tasked with creating a post-specific website to highlight the unique work that Volunteer do in that country.

After months of work alongside of Peace Corps Cambodia staff, our website has finally gone live! On our site you can read about Cambodia, our programs, donate to projects, and read blog posts and other stories of Peace Corps Cambodia Volunteers in action.

Alongside this website, we’ve also created a youtube channel and facebook page.

Please take some time to check out these new sites and read about what makes Peace Corps Cambodia so special.

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. 

Countryside Class, a small community organization just outside of Battambang Town, Cambodia, joined this year with Peace Corps' 3rd annual Create Cambodia Arts Festival.

During the Student Showcase, they performed a the traditional Coconut Dance (which comes out of Svay Rieng!). You can watch the video here.

Cambodian Cuisine

This weekend, PSE, an education NGO in Cambodia, hosted a fundraiser for their programs. The highlight of this fundraiser: bringing together unique tastes from across Cambodia.

Sean, Saeed, and I were pleased to engage in some edible nostalgia as each of our provinces from our Peace Corps site placements were featured:

Sean, Saeed, Monika and I shared a delicious meal of stuffed frog, spicy chicken salad, roasted beef and veggies, and spiced duck, all served over red rice. We certainly ate our full.

We then wandered the venue, which was packed, and ended up in the corner with carnival games. We all tried our luck at darts, and I walked away with an adorably ugly puppy that only cost about $1 in attempted throws.

We also all gave walking on stilts a try, and by that I mean we all failed miserably but with style.

In the past I’ve been a fairly vocal critic of living in Phnom Penh (it’s certainly a lot different from being with my family in Svay Rieng), but last night’s event has me rethinking the pros and cons of being in the capital.

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.

Oh Battambang!

Oh Battambang - A Short Documentary about Art in Cambodia's Battambang Province

This short documentary, Oh Battambang, was created by a Peace Corps Volunteer in Cambodia who arrived in my group in 2011. Arnoldo lived and worked in Battambang Town, Battambang Province, and he worked closely with the art community in the town.

Before the war, Battambang was reknown for its artists, who were then targeted during the Khmer Rouge regime. But now, as Arnoldo shows, Battambang is reclaiming its heritage.

Environment Cartoon for Cambodia

Fellow Peace Corps Volunteers here in Cambodia just finished this video in Khmer about reducing waste and improving the environment in Cambodia. Please share it around!

Garbage is a problem in Cambodia. A major problem — according to Peace Corps Cambodia surveys taken by a group of Kampong Cham and Takeo students.

These students highlighted a widespread and highly visible epidemic. Poor waste management means vast amounts of refuse — from plastic bags to syringes — contaminate the streets and countryside of Cambodia.

Enter Savin the magical water buffalo! This witty, two-horned, eco-conscious character teaches us that the way to a healthy world is through the three Rs: reducing, reusing and recycling. These three practices preserve our streets, countryside and waterways. Savin also teaches us to bury, not burn, our trash.

Savin was born in an educational cartoon created by Peace Corps Cambodia Volunteers. He made his debut at the first annual Kampot River Cleanup, and has since appeared at countless health fairs and environmental health workshops throughout Cambodia.

Battambang’s Phare Ponleu Selpak (Phare) recently gave Savin new life. In collaboration with an eclectic group of Cambodian youth recruited by Peace Corps Cambodia Volunteers, Phare’s 1000 Hands Visual Arts Studio turned Savin into the star of an animated musical adventure. Phare provides free arts training to disadvantaged youth, and 1000 Hands is staffed by current and former Phare students.

In the short educational health film, Savin meets four young eco-warriors on a soccer field clouded by smoke from a trash fire. Savin promptly blows out the fire and takes the four youth on an educational ride of their lives — over rivers and villages, through fruit stands and classrooms and into the hearts of viewers everywhere.

“Just three words: reduce, recycle, reuse. That is the message for everyone — not only for Cambodia, but for the world,” says Chariyasambath Chhen. Sambath, 20, choreographed the film’s dancing. “We all represent individual drops; together we can fill a glass and make a change.”

My Staff Spotlight in Peace Corps Cambodia's Weekly Update

Welcome to Staff Spotlight, where our staff will be in the limelight every week so that Volunteers and other staff have the chance to get to know about a crucial member of our team. This week we are talking to the super-friendly, high-achieving lacrosse goalie with two families: one of the PCVLs, Christin.



Christin describes herself as “a proud Hoosier from Northwest Indiana, which is actually a suburb of Chicago” (Yeah right, Christin). She traveled north for school though, and attended Albion College where she studied English Literature, Political Science, and Leadership in Public Policy and Service. At school she was an ultra popular RA, heavily involved in volunteerism (who’da guessed?), served as President of the Student Volunteer Bureau, and played goalie for the lacrosse team. After graduating, Christin joined Peace Corps Cambodia as an ETTT PCV and she has been here ever since.

During inquiries about her family, Christin wanted to talk about both her American family and her Khmer family. Her parents in America, she says, are awesome, hard-working people currently enjoying a well-deserved retirement and getting ready to move to northern Michigan. She also has one older brother and sister-in-law who, as she puts it, are waiting to produce nieces and nephews until she is Stateside under threats from our own PCVL. As for her Khmer family, Christin says she has been equally blessed; her parents learned how to make the best French fries at site for her, and her sister is one of her best friends in life. She didn’t indulge about her “awesome nieces and nephews” because she said that she will “gush your ear off about them all”.

When asked why she joined Peace Corps, Christin answered, “to become a better person.” “I wanted to be removed from my isolated bubble of homogeneity,” she says, “and experience difference in a way that cultivated a better understanding of universal humanness as opposed to labels of differentiation.” She adds, “Peace Corps offered me exactly the opportunity I was seeking: to travel, be challenged, to learn, to teach, and to serve. I stayed a third year with Peace Corps because I love what it stands for. Although Peace Corps may not always get it right, it tries and the potential for changed lives is endless…Plus, I just really love this country. I am amazed and humbled every day by the people I have met and by the development and change happening so quickly in a post-conflict society. “ When asked what she would like to see Peace Corps Cambodia accomplish, Christin answered, “To have all Volunteers who have ever served here to maintain at least one host country national relationship throughout the rest of their life. “

Now that’s a goal. Get to know Christin through some of her answers below.

Why would a Volunteer contact you?

I’m here for you. Anything you need: someone to talk to, help with a project, a link to different resources, whatever. I also coordinate staff development sessions and am working with the other PCVLs to start a Peace Corps Cambodia website.

What is a cool or interesting fact about yourself that you would like to share with Volunteers?

I was captain of my elementary school’s chess club, which won a trophy at the state tournament. I also played Parks Department Baseball for a few years as the only girl in the league. I was the catcher. My team, the Rangers, was runner up in the 1997 championship.

What is the coolest or most interesting thing you have learned about Khmer culture so far?

I’ve grown to love the communal aspect of Khmer family life. My family compound comes with two houses and 9 people. My parents took in their grandson from Takeo Province to ensure that he could attend school. My 16 year-old nephew takes responsibility for his 6 year-old cousin’s education. When my sister needs to go to work, there are at least 3 other people there to watch her baby. I’m a middle-class Midwesterner; I was taught the value of personal responsibility and never relying on others, so living in such an intra-reliant familial unit has been a new and rewarding experience for me.

Do you have a good Volunteer story you would like to share?

As I was preparing to move out of Svay Rieng Province, I spent a lot of time writing letters of appreciation in Khmer to the people who mattered most to me in my community. The letter I worked on the hardest was the letter to my host family. My last night at home, my mom, sister, and I sat outside talking for a long time and I gave them their gift. My mom asked my sister to read the letter aloud. As I listened, red with embarrassment, I was horrified to realize a rather tragic copying mistake. Where I had intended to write, ‘When you look back on our time together, please think about the good things and forget the bad things,’ I had forgotten a line in copying and written, ‘When you look back on our time together, please think about the bad things.’ Both my sister and my mom busted out laughing and still tease me about it. I offered to rewrite the whole letter to fix it, but they refused. As my mom put it, now, when they miss me and read the letter, they’ll laugh as well as cry.

Here’s hoping every Volunteer has such a great story to share. Thank you for your time, Christin! Volunteers can contact Christin through email, telephone, signing up for an all-boys baseball team, or just dropping by the Lod Cha cart in front of the office in the morning to see if she’s hungry.

Khmer Proverb

ធ្វើច្រើន ខុសច្រើន ចេះច្រើន។

'Do a lot, err a lot, know a lot.'

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!

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.

Our Trip to Vannak's

For last year’s Pchum Ben Festival, I and the other Svay Rieng Peace Corps Volunteers ventured by bike to our friend Vannak’s house where we spent the day playing with puppies and piglets and riding water buffalo. (You can read my previous post about this trip here: http://mylifewithrice.blogspot.com/2013/05/this-is-my-friend-vannak-man-not-water.html)

For this year’s Pchum Ben Festival, I and 12 others again visited Vannak and his family, but this time we hit up his in-laws in Pursat Province. In Cambodian culture, once married, the newlyweds will often move in with the bride’s family, so Vannak’s house isn’t with his own family in Svay Rieng where he grew up but in Pursat Province with his wife’s extended family.



Vannak’s wife and her family cooking up a feast for all the guests.



Vannak and his son.

Since Vannak’s house is in an extremely remote village outside of the provincial town, the plan was for him to come in with his District’s ra’mourk (a motorbike pulling a flat trailer) that runs in the morning to allow villagers to get to the major market in the town. Alas, we were foiled by rainy season with pouring, incessant rain from early morning until almost 11. Since the ra’mourk wouldn’t be able to get through in those conditions, we had to find our own transportation. Vannak got us in touch with a neighbor who had taken his motorbike into town, and he helped us find a van to fit all of us. The van-finding, though, was done with protest, since he assured us that nothing larger than a tuk tuk (essentially a motorbike-drawn carriage) would be able to pass on the roads. Frugality prevailed and we ignored his advice, renting a van to take us to Vannak’s house.

The neighbor acted as our driver’s guide, leading us down increasingly poor dirt roads, until we reached a canal running between two narrow paths. We ventured down the first path, stopping short where the road narrowed too much. The second path yielded no more success. So we piled out of the van, thanking our driver for his effort and commitment to the cause, and we walked the remaining two kilometers. Vannak’s village is so entirely remote, that we walked over a kilometer without seeing a single dwelling. His village is what I always envisioned I would live in during my time with Peace Corps, the no electricity, no paved roads, no school buildings type village.



Making the trek on foot after our van could not pass.



Vannak’s back yard.

Upon arriving at the home, we greeted everyone in the formal Cambodian manner of placing our palms together, fingers up, and bowing slightly. We chatted with Vannak, and he showed us around the area a bit, taking special note of river where we immediately went swimming while lunch was being cooked. I’m fairly sure we were the first foreigners most of the children had ever interacted with, so we were quite the wary fascination for them, and we had a large crowd examining us during (and after) our swim.



Enjoying the peaceful calm on the river bank before jumping right in.



Tysor’s flock of children.



Me, trying to bond with Vannak’s kid.

Lunch blended seemlessly into hours of socialization. We all chatted together, goofed off, and made new friends. Eventually, the music came out and the dance party started. Thankfully, we got the older ladies of the house to bust a move with us, which is atypical for Cambodian parties, and everyone seemed to get a kick out of it.



Willia and Oum gettin’ down.

Long before we were ready to say goodbye, it came time to leave. The only form of transportation available in the village was a plow modified to run on the road and trailing a large board. We all squeezed on, saying our goodbyes and accepting invitations to return at the next holiday. Two of the guys followed us on a motorbike to ensure our safe return, which ended up being a lifesaver as one of the plow’s tires blew and the motorbike was able to go borrow a tire from a neighboring village (they also proved extremely helpful as retrievers of our shoes and sunglasses that the rough bumps took flying).



Our ‘car’ for the trip back to town.

The strength of Peace Corps comes in the relationships you form. Because of our friendship with Vannak, we were able to meet people and have an experience that otherwise never could have happened. We we able to gain perspective and connections and empathy for a community we otherwise never would have known existed. We didn’t make any difference in anyone’s lives (except maybe provide some amusing tales), but we changed our own lives. It’s hard to live the same way after you’ve been in a village where you had to go to the neighbor’s house because your friend’s house didn’t have a bathroom, where your seemingly easy request for dancing music resulted in a concerted effort to find a music player and car batteries with which to play it, where an obviously poor family found enough meat to add to the vegetables you brought because you didn’t consider that they would feel rude not to provide you with meat for lunch. We’ll never forget our trip to Vannak’s.

Cambodia in Holidays: Pchum Ben

Pchum Ben, or Ancestors’ Day, is an annual 15-day celebration that follows the Khmer lunar calendar, usually taking place late September to mid October. This year, 2013, Pchum Ben falls from September 20th to October 4th. While festivities occur throughout this 15-day period, only the last three days are a public holiday, and the final day is the major celebration. Pchum Ben is unique to Cambodia, and is one of Cambodia’s most important Buddhist festivals. Many businesses will close as people migrate back to their home provinces to spend the holiday with their relatives.

According to legend,


“Phchum Ben came about because relatives of King Bath Pempeksa defied religious customs and ate rice before the monks did during a religious ritual. After their death, they became evil spirits. When a monk known as Kokak Sonthor gained enlightenment and became a Buddha on earth, all those evil spirits went to ask him, “When can we eat?” The Buddha said, “You have to wait for the next Buddha in the Kathakot Buddhist realm. In this realm, evil spirits cannot eat.” When the next monk, Kamanou, achieved enlightenment and became a Buddha, all the evil spirits came again to ask the same question, and he gave the same answer as the previous Buddha. Later, another monk, Kasakbour, achieved enlightenment and became a Buddha, and the hungry evil spirits again asked him the same question. The Buddha told them the same thing - to wait for the next Buddha. The final Buddha, Preah Samphot - also known also as Samanakkodom - said to the evil spirits, “Wait for your relative, King Bath Pempeksa, to offer merits and dedication. When the dedication is made, the food will be yours to eat.”

King Pempeksa finally made an offering, but he did not dedicate the offering to the spirits of his relatives. All the spirits that were related to him cried that night. And when King Bath Pempeksa went to the Valovan pagoda to visit the Buddha, he was told by the Buddha that, “All the spirits of your relatives are crying, demanding food. The spirits should get food in the realm of Kathakot. Although you offered food and did good deeds, you did not dedicate the food and good deeds to them.” So King Bath Pempeksa made another dedication and offering, and this time he dedicated the food and merits to his relatives. The evil spirits received the dedication and were finally reborn into paradise.”







Cambodians take great care to prepare sticky rice and other offerings, arranged in the most elaborate fashions (picture from khmerlovekhmerculture.blogspot.com)

And the legend has never died, Pchum Ben having been celebrated as long as collective memory can recall, every year dedicating offerings to bless the spirits of the dead. The dead relatives with bad karma can be trapped in the spirit world (hell), unable to be reincarnated. During Pchum Ben, though, the guardians of hell release these hungry ghosts to receive gifts of food and blessings from their living relatives. Cambodians can bring blessing to their deceased, trapped relatives in two ways: by transferring merit to the hungry ghosts through offering to the monks and by directly offering food by throwing sticky rice into the fields in the pagoda grounds.

Om Sam Ol, a monk at Steung Meanchey pagoda, explains more about the beliefs behind the festival: “During Pchum Ben, souls and spirits come to receive offerings from their living relatives. It is believed that some of the dead receive punishment for their sins and burn in hell - they suffer a lot and are tortured there,” he added. “Hell is far from people; those souls and spirits cannot see the sun; they have no clothes to wear, no food to eat. Pchum Ben is the period when those spirits receive offerings from their living relatives and perhaps gain some relief. Relatives consecrate and dedicate food and other offerings to them.”







People gather at the pagoda starting around 4am in order to have their offerings to their ancestors blessed. (picture from snappcambodia.com)

Traditionally, then, Pchum Ben is a holiday centered about religious rites at the pagodas. Every Buddhist will visit at least three pagodas during the 15-day period (the ideal number, however, is seven different pagodas) to pray for the souls of their dead relatives. Some people will have to travel very far to visit the pagoda where their dead relatives are most likely to visit, so the pagodas open their doors to allow travelers to sleep at the temples. If the living relatives do not make the appropriate offerings, some believe that the hungry ghosts will curse them in the following year; conversely, if the hungry ghosts are appeased, the living relatives will be blessed with happiness and success. On the final day of the holiday, the hungry ghosts are ordered to return to their prison to wait until the next Pchum Ben.









After the elaborate dishes are blessed, Cambodians parade around the main temple, stopping at each spirit house to drop a portion of the rice and other offerings and to say a quick prayer. Between spirit houses, they will throw some of the sticky rice over the temple railing and out into the field as a direct transfer to the hungry ghosts. (picture from cam111.com)

*quoted text from www.tourismcambodia.com

Youth Star Cambodia

Last Saturday was Youth Star Cambodia’s eighth annual fundraising gala dinner. This year’s theme honored the decade of the Roaring Twenties as ‘a decade symbolized by progress, innovation, liberation and prosperity. Youth Star’s Volunteers embody the characteristics of this time: they are change-makers bringing growth and development to the communities they work with.’ 

Thanks to the generosity of the USAID Director in Cambodia, I and a few other Peace Corps Volunteers were able to attend this event. We were all inspired by the vision and work of Youth Star, and we hope to work more closely with Youth Star in the future, learning from their methods and their dedicated Volunteers. 

Caitie, Kirk, and Jodi

Table 24 - arguably the most fun table at the gala

Youth Star was founded in 2005 by Returned Peace Corps Volunteer Eva Mysliwiec, and the mission and core values of Youth Star are actually quite similar to those of Peace Corps. Youth Star Cambodia sends young Cambodians to rural, impoverished areas to serve as Volunteers for a year, with the mission ‘to build a just and peaceful nation through citizen service, civic leadership, and social entrepreneurship. Our work is guided by the belief that building a just and peaceful nation is every citizen’s right and responsibility, and that each individual can make a difference.’

Youth Star Volunteers work closely with community leaders to achieve a community-directed development plan. Primarily, Youth Star Volunteers work with youth clubs, training up the next generation of leaders and empowering youth from disadvantaged situations. 

A Youth Star Volunteer leads a campaign for domestic-violence free communities through Cambodia’s Good Men Campaign (http://goodmencampaign.wordpress.com) (image from Youth Star’s website)

As a Peace Corps Volunteer in Cambodia, every time I read about Youth Star programs and events I am in awe at how much they are able to accomplish compared to us American Volunteers. Youth Star Volunteers are here, in their own country, helping in communities where they know the language and the culture and the everyday dynamics. 

You can learn more about Youth Star Cambodia and their vision and work at their website: 

http://www.youthstarcambodia.org/