Reverse Hospitality

“Maliss! We go now?” is how I’m greeted when I pick up the phone at my tiny desk after half a ring. Because it sits directly in front of me and shares the tiled platform with my netbook of equal size, I can respond to the phone’s ring with the efficiency of a Mad Men secretary.

“Sorry!” I explain, “Now we wait maybe thirty minutes. Many students on ship get off first.” Sreyna’s cabin is two doors down the third deck hall but I can practically feel her eagerness to disembark the ship and explore Ho Chi Minh City – even through the thick creaking walls of this ten year old cruise ship. By now, we’ve spent five days on the MV Explorer, the ship Semester at Sea students call their home and university campus as it sails around the world.

“We” are the “Cambodia Team”, made up of 2 EGBOK Mission students and myself. Panha comes from an orphanage in Phnom Penh and now studies Restaurant through EGBOK Mission in Siem Reap. Sreyna studies the same program and comes from a community center in a village just a moto’s (extremely bumpy and therefore painful) ride passed the temples of Angkor Wat. I am a former staff member of EGBOK Mission. In 2007, I spent half of my sophomore year at WWU as a Semester at Sea student. Without the experience, I could not have pointed to Cambodia on a map, let alone have the confidence to volunteer at a rural orphanage with an English teaching position after graduating from university.

Together, we have been asked to sail on the ship as it travels between Hong Kong and Ho Chi Minh City. For the eight day trip, our goal is to provide as much information and insight into the crazy country of Cambodia as we can. In return, Sreyna and Panha get to be exposed to life outside of their country for the first time in their 23 year old lives.

As I hang up the phone it takes me three clumsy attempts to return the receiver to its proper fitting. I am distracted by my recollections from just five days before, on the morning I picked the two EGBOK Mission students up in a tuk tuk and headed to the Siem Reap airport. Everything about that morning could be described as sleepy – the tuk tuk driver yawned the entire 20 minute drive, the streetside vendors and market stalls had yet to open, and we nearly ran over a yawning mutt that had decided the middle of the road was a good place for a long, relaxed, down-dog style stretch.

I am a strong believer that I live an incredibly lucky life and have nothing more to ask for. However, there are a few things that I will always feel extremely passionate about as they make a perfect life just a teensy bit better. I refer to these as The Best Things Ever:

• Sleeping puppies
• Rear window windshield wipers
• When you are eating at a restaurant and return to your table from the restroom at the exact time your food is being served
• Walking directly on the tarmac when exiting or boarding an airplane because the weather is so idyllic

So I was beyond excited to have the two students not only get to enjoy their first plane flight, but to get to experience one of The Best Things Ever. I didn't take the effort to discuss my list with them; they were pretty overwhelmed already. I just had to keep the excitement to myself.

“Is Reverse Hospitality a thing?” I caught myself wondering once we were settled in our Row 7 seats. Panha craned his neck to watch with full attention as the flight attendant mimicked blowing the life jacket’s whistle. His temples throbbed with the rhythm of his gum chewing and I could tell he was wishing the lady wearing the unnecessarily giant hair clip sitting in front of him would have opted to wear her hair down this morning.

For the two hours preceding our flight’s departure, Panha and Sreyna felt like movie stars. First our tuk tuk driver, then the money exchange lady, followed by the half dozen Cambodian airport staff who took their sweet time rummaging through our bags at the security screening – all wanted to know where the two were headed, who the foreigner was traveling with them, and how long they would be gone. But in addition to their inquiries about the trip’s itinerary, each of these friendly people went out of their way to wish the students good luck on their trip, comment on how lucky they were, and to stay safe and learn a lot. Even our male flight attendant, who wasn’t even Cambodian, greeted the students and wished them well on their first plane flight as he helped us juggle our bags into the overhead bins.

Who knew locals could be so excited and intrigued to see their countrymen leave? These were the same feelings of warmth and friendliness that would have us craving for our Cambodia return eight days later after surviving the hustle and bustle of Ho Chi Minh during Tet Holiday.

Sreyna, who traded seats with Panha so she could enjoy the window view, pulled out her brand new crisp Glee hard-bound notebook. “I am on plane and I leaving Cambodia.” She carefully wrote in English. As a fellow journal-er who occasionally gets harassed for my habit, I am excited for Sreyna. A never-been-opened journal with clean and perfect pages and a spine so new it’s actually audible when first opened is a contender for The Best Things Ever list.

She didn't write much else in the next hour. Between taking long glances out both windows and quick views around the cabin, she seemed semi-anxious while her fellow traveler had already fallen asleep with the safety instructions card in his grip. It’s a proven fact that he helped reiterate: Cambodians really can sleep anywhere.

The next week is full of ‘firsts’ for the students. Besides the drastic things like living in a small cabin on a ship, experiencing seasickness, and getting to enjoy a night at a 5 star hotel in the business district of Hong Kong (generously donated by Hyatt), the less significant things were just as memorable (for both them and me). Of course, some experiences were enjoyed more than others.

• Temperatures in Hong Kong ranged from 15-20˚C. This was by far the coldest climate they had ever been in; I was asked by Panha to show him how to turn off all air and fans in both his hotel room and ship cabin. This made his small environment clammy and suffocatingly hot – just the way Cambodians are used to.

• Cinnamon gum. My previous Cambodia visits taught me you can buy any flavor of gum (jackfruit!) except my favorite. I felt proud for remembering to come prepared this trip as I pulled out my Orbit pack on the plane and offered it to my two seatmates . Their underwhelming expressions after a few chews killed me. They admitted it was new to them, but they weren't about to jump on the cinnamon gum bandwagon with me.

• Airport chaos. Immigration checkpoints, customs officers, security scanners, luggage weight requirements - lots to take in when your legs are being sniffed by a security dog and an airport staff member is asking (in his extremely thick Malay accent) to see “passport page one”. Did I mention the dog (a normal, American-sized Golden Lab) is far larger than any Cambodian mutt? Once settled on our connecting flight, it took some explaining to talk Panha through why the dog was allowed in the airport and what it was doing sniffing his legs.

• No rice. In Cambodia, you don’t just eat rice with all three meals, you eat rice for all three meals. On the ship, voyagers eat pasta and potatoes for all three meals. After two days of adjusting, Panha and Sreyna enjoyed the carb overload. They were also encouraged to try peanut butter for the first time. This led to a long discussion (led by yours truly) about how ingenious Cambodians are with the creative ways to smother and cook the common fruit. *Fun fact: throughout a typical semester long voyage, 2,030lbs of peanut butter are consumed on the MV Explorer. So that explains my weight gain sophomore year.

For those who have experience as a staff member or student on Semester at Sea, you may remember how busy each evening on the ship is. Or you may not, due to each evening consisting of so many group events, lectures, performances, intramural games, trivia contests, talent shows, and pre-port briefings. There’s so much happening after classes have wrapped up that it makes your head spin. While you're seasick. Not a good combo.

So it was during these evenings when Sreyna and Panha were in their element. After presenting their practiced Powerpoint presentations to the 400 seat lecture hall, the Semester at Sea students were beyond enthusiastic to ask them about everything from how they joined EGBOK Mission to what the best temples in the Angkor Wat complex are.

As a Semester at Sea alum, I have incredible memories of spending time on the back of the sixth deck. Normally, anywhere else where the wind is so violent it makes unattended chairs dance around and hair wip into your mouth as you munch your salad isn’t a place where you’d go out of your way to hang out. Except if the view is of one white never-ending streak trailing the ship’s rear and nothing else but ocean. So whenever I had a minute to spare I’d choose to eat, chat, and study while attempting to avoid all distractions. This year, I was able to experience some great conversations at this same memorable spot.

EGBOK Mission students + Semester at Sea students + MV Explorer’s 6^th deck = Global exposure for Khmer Pajamas.

Let me back up.

Cambodians wear matching pajama tops and bottoms as everyday (sometimes even special occasion) wardrobe selections. The village bike mechanic, coffee lady, and children outside of their school uniforms can all be found sporting cotton sets decorated with roses, Hello Kitty, or the equally popular Ben Ten cartoon character. They are extremely unflattering and pointlessly thick and therefore hot.  Visitors to Cambodia quickly notice the trend and usually comment on it. I wouldn’t call my travel experience in SE Asia extensive, but I’ve been to enough countries to know the pajama craze is clearly Khmer. It makes for a great gift if there is a Cambodian woman you’re shopping for - but the prices are surprisingly high. When I bought a flowery set for a departing volunteer to take home with her so she could wear them every night in Ohio, I was astonished to learn their cost.

Khmer pajamas were the spotlight of one evening’s conversation on the 6^th deck since naturally, Sreyna packed her purple pair. These are a classic pair – they are multi colored and patterned. Sporting cartoon monkey heads that wear red cat eye glasses, the purple fabric also commits my favorite thing about Cambodian clothing: misspellings. Sreyna’s pair has the name “Paul Prank” in thick colorful letters thrown throughout the design. Not sure if Paul Frank has ever been to Cambodia, but I’m sure he’d be delighted to know a version of his name and famed monkey logo have made it to the market stalls throughout the country. Maybe someone should tell Klavin Cline, too.

Needless to say, Sreyna’s clothing selection to the nightly 10pm Snack Time was a hit. She was a little caught off guard at why so many students would inquire and compliment her usual attire. “Yes! Every day!” was her reply when someone asked her while standing in line for brownies if they were her regular clothes or special for the trip.

Back in our cabins, minutes before disembarking the ship to explore Vietnam, my phone rings again. “Hello Maliss my name is Panha”. Even though I’ve spent the last six days with him and get his hourly calls to check in on our schedule, Panha still greets the phone call’s recipient like he’s about to offer a lower interest rate or carpet installation quote.

     “Yes, Panha. Are you ready to see Vietnam?”

     “Yes. Maliss? Maybe we find potatoes and peanut butter there?”

I encourage him to enjoy the ship’s lunchtime meal before disembarking. Because as he’d soon find out, he’d be repeatedly mistaken as Vietnamese and would struggle to order spring rolls at a market stall, let alone obscure Western food.

This was the theme of the trip for the EGBOK Mission students: getting to share their interests and culture while gaining experience as guests and being removed from their comfort zone. Although the ship quickly became home to them, the three of us were pleased to be welcomed home once back in Siem Reap. They were proud to finally be identified as a local again. I was proud that we had survived seasickness, the nervousness that accompanies public speaking, the hectic streets of Ho Chi Minh, and all those Khmer pajama inquiries.