Cambodian Time

"So what have you been up to? Keepin' busy?"

Sometimes when I get asked these innocent questions by family and friends on Skype conversations, I occasionally go blank.  It's like I'm reliving my spelling bee days of 2^nd grade and have been asked to spell my favorite bonus word: perseverance. I could easily spell the word at the kitchen table a dozen times this morning, but the fact that I have twenty five pairs of eyes watching me causes my stress level to rise. Needless to say, conversing on Skype is much different and about ten thousand times more pleasurable than a spelling bee, but I get the same clueless feeling when I'm asked about the work that we're doing every day. It's not that EGBOK Mission volunteers are indolent - I can promise you that I have never worked with a group of such dedicated, enthusiastic, organized, and motivated people in my life. My challenge of recalling all the tasks, projects, and expansion that are being worked on spurs from the realization that there really is a monstrous amount of work that's being done here, and when you've lived in it for 91 days (or 2+ years if you're the EGBOK Mission founder, Ben Justus) it takes some effort to zoom out and see how each of the volunteer's daily accomplishments slowly add up. 

At this point there are 6 EGBOK Mission volunteers in Cambodia working with Ben to help continue, expand, improve, and run the day-to-day happenings that fall in the lap of an NGO that deals with 10 students who are about to graduate from hospitality school, 25 students who are about to move across the country to attend hospitality school, and 7 sites throughout Cambodia. Easy? I think not.

The 6 of us come from varied backgrounds, degrees, and experiences; some of us have volunteered in Cambodia before, others have never had the thrill of riding in a tuk-tuk or sipping on a 35 cent iced coffee before this month. With all of our combined degrees, we make for a varied resume - Economics, Finance, English, Social Work, Hospitality, Geography, and Health. Regardless of what and how much we've studied or our volunteer duration, all of us spend every day working with one another on the random tasks at hand. Personally, this is the reason I felt comfortable committing to six months with EGBOK Mission; every day is different and this crazy thing called Cambodian Time makes things scoot along inexplicably fast.

The thing I enjoy the most, besides working with my co-volunteers, is that there is no such thing as an average day as an EGBOK Mission volunteer. I have spent mornings on the computer, afternoons at the copy shop, and evenings at the student house. I have spent mornings sitting roadside along one of downtown Siem Reap's streets getting keys made - or, I should say, waiting for keys to get made. I have spent endless hours pacing the small, scorching hot copy shop as EGBOK Mission students' resumes gradually glide through the printer at an alarmingly sluggish speed. While I wait, I try to converse with the copy attendant, but every time I attempt this casual dialogue I remember my very first chat with him about why he no longer teaches computer classes at the high school - he got tired of talking.

The mindboggling and ironic thing is that for as fast as the overall duration in Cambodia goes, most of the necessary daily tasks take approximately three times as long as we're used to. Need ten copies? Plan for 15 minutes. Need 25 color prints? Plan to bring your lunch.

In one week, EGBOK Mission has gone from occupying 2 rooms to 4 rooms in the guesthouse where we live. Now, because our rooms stretch down the hall of the second floor, my dorm room days have reappeared. Unlike the dorms, where we'd rely on each door's whiteboard to inform the others of our whereabouts, EGBOK Mission volunteers rely on a quick call. Given the array of places we go, ways to get there, and the people we meet, some of our phone conversations produce surprised, confused, or Only In Cambodia reactions, "You're where? Why do you need to show her the coffee shop? OOOHHH. Copy shop. Got it." Or "I don't remember what aisle the crackers are in - get the shrimp-flavored banana chips instead." Or my favorite, "Gotta call you back. Cockroach on my bed."

At any one moment, the 6 of us could be organizing class lesson plans, documenting finances, meeting with hospitality school staff to discuss next year's EGBOK Mission students, meeting with a hotel's General Manager to educate them about EGBOK Mission, visiting the student house and helping the Front Office students perfect their guest relation skills by acting dramatically like an unhappy hotel guest, or visiting a student during their internship (or, as of this week, their JOB!). The later is my favorite task to accomplish - checking in at a hotel or restaurant to briefly visit one of the EGBOK Mission students in uniform. Whether behind the bar or behind the front desk, they are always happy to be visited. They are more than willing to pose for the camera as they pour a glass of wine or use the espresso machine to making my coffee.

For the sake of the students, during these visits I am reminded of my junior high choir concerts and every other experience that involves parents visiting their child in a public venue for an important event - it's good to have your parents there to see you perform, but as a student you are secretly crossing your fingers in hopes they won't embarrass you too much. Same idea during the student internship and job visits; as volunteers we let them know we're excited for them, we place our order, and then we proudly chat about them as we grab a table that's not too close, but within easy view of these successful EGBOK Mission scholars.

The days are long (especially when the neighbors are chain-sawing down a coconut tree at 6am), jam-packed, and exhausting. The heat, language barrier, and Cambodian pace of accomplishing things can be frustrating. But it's exciting. It's fun. It's unlike any position I could ever imagine having at home. I'm lucky to be with the other volunteers, and so thankful to spend the next 107 days continuing to work with them as we rapidly plough ahead into the whirlwind of Cambodian Time. 

A Photo Shoot

It’s time to prepare resumes.

Normally at home, this is one of those tasks that receives a few seconds worth of unpleasant audible groans before you just sit down at the computer and crank it out. You check for typos, confirm your references still like you, print it on some nice paper, and hand it in. Simple, right?

Now imagine the Cambodian version of this same task.

First, to use a computer you’d head to your local internet café or gaming hole-in-the wall where you pay 50 cents an hour to sit in a hot, dirty room and work on an ancient, slow computer. Khmer renditions of Michael Buble and Celine Dion obnoxiously blare through the establishment’s cheap speakers as you quickly begin to realize the ‘s’, ‘i’, and ‘p’ keys do not work, and because you are Khmer, your name has at least two of these letters. 

That is, unless you are a lucky EGBOK Mission student. Thanks to our donated laptops, we’ve put them to good use this past week in helping us prepare the students’ resumes. Graduation is quickly approaching and the first group of EGBOK Mission students in Siem Reap can almost call themselves alum from either Paul Dubrule or Sala Bai Hospitality Training Schools. In the past year, 10 EGBOK Mission students have completed their coursework in either Restaurant, Front Office & Housekeeping, or Bakery & Pastry programs. They have interned at a total of 14 hotels in Siem Reap and have learned everything from how to work the espresso machine to handle online bookings to make delicious Tiramisu. Some have been selected to serve at large functions held at the Angkor Wat temples and others have already been asked to consider employment at their place of internship. Within this past year, they have all moved from their home orphanages in the bustling, crowed city of Phnom Penh to the tourist- and job-friendly smaller city of Siem Reap. They live in the EGBOK Mission house and cook for themselves, pay the utilities, deal with the landlord, begin to understand the importance of saving money, and try to remember to water the plants before Ben or I get on their case.

The students come home from school or their internships everyday and take a few minutes to lounge in the entry-way’s comfy chairs, listen to music, or visit with one of us. It’s not rare for them to doze off as the others are discussing who will take out the garbage or when their next exams are. Many of the students begin their days at 5 or 6am, so ten hours later they’re severely missing out on the wonderful 2-hour Cambodian lunch time siesta they’ve grown up with.

But by later in the evening, they’ve obtained their second wind and are excited to study. Katie and I teach 3 classes a week at the house, and thanks to the donated laptops we can introduce PowerPoint and Word, get them comfortable typing, and assist them with resumes. They couldn’t be more eager to learn on the computers and often times we end class later than planned because they just can’t seem to get enough.

As graduation nears and I’m beginning to help them apply to jobs for their first time, it’s a learning experience for me, too. Photos have to be submitted with each resume, and apparently it’s not customary to smile in them. This makes for an interesting few days at the photo store, as I stand behind the photographer and beg the students to show some teeth, reminding them that employers want to hire happy people. In a three day period I visited the photo store four times – just enough for the staff to recognize me every time I came in with a group of students.

All of the boys enjoyed their photo shoot because it meant they got to put on a tie and jacket. There were a dozen different ties to choose from, two identical jackets, and a few white button- up shirts. Perfectly clean? No. But you can’t see the collar’s sweat stains in the photos, and that’s what matters.

The first group of boys I took loved this outing. We were guided up the shop’s stairs to a large room with half a dozen staff busy editing wedding photos on computers. In one corner of the room was a blue screen and a single stool in front. Even before the photographer appeared, the boys began choosing which tie had more ‘style’ and sorting through the shirts – completely reminiscent of playing dress up as a girl. One by one, they helped each other tie the tie, straighten the jacket, and pat their hair down before taking a seat on the stool. The photographer, who was approximately half my size and looked like he’d just finished splatter painting, would work his magic and literally tilt each boys head, chin, and shoulders to be all aligned perfectly.  A couple of snaps later and they were through with their camera time. But the make-believe would just begin, as they’d stand up, slowly begin to untie their tie, and carefully remove the jacket.

“I am just returning!” each one would say.

“From where?” I’d play along.

“My day at Sofitel Hotel – very long day! Many guests.”

“What do you do there?” I’d push their imaginations.

The reply would range from Guest Relation’s Officer to General Manager. Then they’d be bothered to hurry up by the next student in line who was waiting for the jacket.

I came so often that the price for each student’s 8 prints decreased from $3 to 75 cents by the third day.

The photos turned out well and everyone is sporting a big smile. When I showed them the prints the next day, they couldn’t wait to see them and talk about how handsome they were.

For Cambodia, this was an extremely easy and smooth process. Other important things, like tracking down birth certificates or obtaining National ID cards, are the types of tasks that linger on the to-do list not because of procrastination, but because this is Cambodia.

It’s not rare for twenty year olds to not know the correct spelling of their names. Maybe when they were younger, they felt like adding a few letters to their family or given name, so now they don’t remember what’s on their birth certificate. And speaking of birth certificate, some students don’t have a clue where theirs is, which adds to the conundrum. Or, they went a step further and actually scribbled over their original name on their birth certificate and penciled in a new one. Makes sense, I guess.

 It’s hard - actually, impossible, for these ‘Cambodia-isms’ to not bother me. There are a lot of them. How can you not know your age? How is it not unordinary for 19 year olds to still be in grade 8? Why is “I have no money to give to teacher” a valid excuse for not regularly attending government school? These are complex questions with answers I will never fully understand.

But I do know this: In the past year, EGBOK Mission has succeeded in helping students who were either far behind or eager to find an option besides government school. They chose to come to study in Siem Reap because their futures look brighter with hospitality training. It’s easy to get overwhelmed with all of the resume editing, job hunting, and exam dates racing toward us. The students are aware of the gravity the next few weeks has on their futures, but as I was reminded today while clothes shopping for interviews with them, “Right now we go only step by step.”

This is Cambodia, after all...

The more I look, the more grossed out I get. I’m so perplexed by it, though. But by about the third time I take a peek, the nauseousness hits me and I’m positive it’s from this bizarre phenomenon rather than the carsickness. It’s an Asian thing, and after living in Cambodia for a total of seven months I’ve seen a lot of it, but this time it’s the length that I can’t get over.

I’m talking about the long, extremely unattractive hairs that sprout from facial moles.

Thought you were going to read a pleasant little update about the latest happenings in Cambodia? I’ll get there in a minute.

 Our bus driver, whom  I’m sitting directly behind, has a medium, black colored mole on his bottom right cheek so when he turns his head to the right I not only see the mole, but also the half dozen long hairs that he has so delicately grown springing from its center. When I say long, I mean it. His are at least six inches, which actually doesn’t even rival that of many moto and tuk tuk drivers, market vendors, and dvd salesmen I have had the pleasure of interacting with. Two things always happen when I see this strange occurrence. First, I suddenly lose my appetite, and second, I always ask myself if the lucky owner ever braids, straightens, or gets creative with his scraggly, wiry collection. This image stays in my head for about .03 seconds before my gag reflex forcefully distracts me and I move on to thinking about how hot it is. I guess that’s one good thing about living in 90 degree heat. Distraction when you need it.

Speaking of heat, it’s hot on this empty 20 passenger bus, but I see that the AC is on high so I suck it up and try not to think about how hot it will be when there are twenty-one more bodies on board in fifteen minutes.

Katie and I (and our finely groomed driver) are on our way to pick up the Angkor Thom junior high students to take them on their first class trip to the city. By moto, this journey out to the countryside takes a good forty minutes; today we’re commuting out there on this small bus to load up the students and bring them to Siem Reap’s National Museum – a bumpier version of the same ride at twice the length.

Once we arrive to the junior high and the students load, we repeat the rough journey. Most of the students are excited to take a seat; others are too thrilled to relax. They choose to stay standing through the entire ride despite their skulls being wounded from the violent bouncing – their balance is impressive, I think to myself. Helmets would be nice.

It doesn’t take long for two things to quickly happen. First, one of the boys suggests a group sing-a-long. This takes me back to my sixth grade choir concerts where we’d load the school bus and head to the ‘performance’ of the year – the local Lion’s Club quarterly meeting. A big deal. On the fifteen minute ride my classmates would prompt one of these same sing-a-longs and I remember always thinking ‘really?’. We’re on our way to sing, why do we need to give ourselves headaches by shouting in this acoustically unfriendly bus?

Today the student who initiated the singing suggests No Doubt’s ‘Say That You Love Me’. He asks Katie and me to join him and I lie and say I don’t know the song. Instead of this cop-out working, it just makes the young choir director initiate a new song – Justin Bieber’s ‘Baby’.  Are you sure these are village kids?

The next occurrence is less pleasant and reinforces the fact that these are village kids. Because of their infrequent car and bus rides, their carsickness hits fast. There are a few girls who do their best to hide their discomfort, but after about thirty minutes into the ride someone has communicated to the driver the need to exit the vehicle. Immediately.

Two minutes later she’s back on the bus. I hand her a water and she’s given up hiding her malaise. All I can do is tell her we’re almost off of this bumpy road before I’m interrupted by her peer sitting in front. “Teacha, please help!” I ungracefully walk to Yen and see that as her friends are barely managing to hold their stomachs, she’s reading the English-Khmer picture dictionary given to her on the first day of EGBOK Mission class last week. She’s opened to the seafood section, and wants to hear my pronunciation of ‘salmon steak’. After lots of practice, she’s moved on to ‘filet of sole’ (“Why no ‘t’ sound?”) and  ‘shrimp’. I envy her skill of reading while in motion. I also envy her skill of acting like everything is completely normal as the half dozen students surrounding her were wishing they hadn’t had lunch.

Once at the museum, the students’ energy seemed to perk up. It was clear they were not used to air conditioned or tourist-filled rooms. As we walked from room to room, I was repeatedly blown away – these students were actually taking notes.  I’ve never seen someone open their notebook so briskly and uncap their pen with such fervor in my life.

Walls upon walls of information (in Khmer and English) about Angkor rulers, temple architecture, and Buddha statues. Rooms filled with traditional artwork, maps of the world, and timelines dozens of meters long.  The students were interested in it all – Katie and I gave up sticking together as a group early on as we saw some students were documenting the information like their life depended on it. The students who meandered ahead became just as mesmerized with the short video clips about the origin of Kampuchea that in the end it didn’t matter how spread out we’d become because everyone finished together.

We just went from a rural village, to Justin Bieber, to a history museum in one of southeast Asia’s tourist capitals. And now some $2 pho for lunch - with piles and piles of added MSG. This is Cambodia, after all, and there are some things I just won’t get used to.

Site Visit: Angkor Thom Junior High

The sharp piercing squeaks of the moto’s brakes warn me to grip tighter. The small metal bar on the back of the seat is my saving grace; my wrist is starting to strain from the awkward angle as my fingers grasp tighter and tighter each time I hear the cue. The left footstand is half broken, so it’s downward angle forces my left thigh to work harder than it’s used to in order to prevent the weight of my leg from breaking this 4 inch piece of metal.

As usual in Cambodia, I feel I am in the middle of nowhere as Ratanak, my friendly moto driver, quickly maneuvers us between the rugged potholes, logging trucks, and stray animals that occasionally obstruct our journey. Actually, it’s the trucks and animals that are occasional – the potholes line this 7 mile dirt road so thoroughly that every few seconds Ratanak must grip his brake as he steers around or ploughs through the next hole. I have no idea how fast we’re headed down this village road since the moto’s speedometer is stuck at 0, and after straining my gaze over his shoulder several times in the hopes of catching a glimpse of our speed, I decide that maybe it’s best not to know. Just hold on, try to ignore the burning sun, and enjoy the scenery.

The latter is by far the easiest to do, as our commute today has taken us through some of the ancient temples of Angkor Wat. As the tour buses of Koreans (all sporting super stylish matching hats – I want one) unloaded and became swarmed with Khmer children trying to sell them bracelets, postcards, and trinkets, Ratanak pulled the throttle to pass them with just enough aggressiveness that it seemed to underline our mission – we had ground to cover, and we weren’t going to be stalled by any Teva-sandaled tourists who were distracted with their heads buried behind their temple maps. We were on our way out to Angkor Thom, a small, poor rural village a good 40 minutes past these sightseers. 

Every so often, Ratanak turns his head sideways to attempt a conversation with me. Because I spoke to him before we left town using the half dozen Khmer phrases and questions I know, this man thinks I’m fluent. With the wind, engine noise, and me constantly focusing on not falling off the back of the moto, I fail to hear what he’s shouting at me. I can’t really tell if it’s in Khmer or English, so I alternate my polite responses between “oh, really?”, “yes, beautiful!”, “interesting!” and a few Khmer responses that probably make no sense at all. My Khmer needs some work.

Angkor Thom Junior High is made up of village students, students from a local orphanage, and students who live in the boarding section of the campus. Thanks to Life & Hope Association, this junior high is able to provide the students with better teachers, longer class times, and an array of life skill and supplemental education programs. Today was Katie and my first visit out to this bright, welcoming small campus where Katie will begin teaching the three month EGBOK Mission hospitality curriculum next week.

Once we pulled off the dirt road and into the school’s driveway, we were welcomed by some of the students who were eager to learn our names and ages. They were most likely overwhelmed by our whiteness and large size; we were overwhelmed by our aching bottoms and the inviting sensation of being able to stand and walk without the constant bouncing of the past hour.

During our visit, we met Katie’s students under their thatched-roof eating area. The 20 kids sat lining a long, narrow table and quietly watched Katie as she discussed the rules and class schedule. As I sat to the side at a different table, I had a perfect view of these new EGBOK Mission scholars. I couldn’t help but to remember my first few classes teaching English last year and how quiet my students were - rarely raising their hands, seldom daring to translate in Khmer for their classmates, and all the while making me nervous. What am I doing wrong? Is this too challenging? Are they just bored? Do they really want to be here? And this uncertainty lasted for approximately 1.5 classes. After that, the frightened students became more comfortable with my eccentric teaching style (compared to what they were used to) and class participation was rarely an issue  (when a vocab word is ‘gargle’, there’s really only one way to make sure every student knows what it means).

So as I looked at each of these junior high schoolers listening to Katie, I saw their potential and have no doubt they will do well in this program. They already have the motivation (these students were selected based on their desire and English skills) and in no time I know they’ll be talking their heads off and asking questions before, during, and after each class. When Katie mentions the class field trip to Phnom Penh in June, one of the girls directly across from me literally drops her jaw as her eyebrows instantly rise and both hands meet her cheeks. She might be too shy to say it now, but I don’t need to know Khmer fluently to be absolutely positive - she is pumped.

Student Profile: Chakreya

It’s late morning on a typical Monday in Phnom Penh. The sun has made its entrance and will stubbornly linger overhead until late afternoon. Ben, Katie, and I are on our way to visit Chakreya, an EGBOK Mission student who has just completed her six month internship at the Boddhi Tree Aram Guesthouse. As we pass sidewalk stalls selling mangoes, water, and rice, I wonder where exactly this guesthouse is hidden. Once the sidewalks clear, this quiet side street becomes a small, residential area littered with well kept French colonial style houses. It is in front of one of these refreshingly clean white buildings where we are greeted by a beautiful young girl who is standing nearly in the middle of the small street. She is busy soaking the sidewalk flora with a large white hose; she is drenched herself, but with sweat or water? The temperature is pushing 90 so it’s likely to be both. She happily greets us and invites us inside, so Ben, Katie, and I make our way into the crisp clean lobby and briefly wait for her to finish her watering duties.

I quickly learn a lot. Chakreya is from Children’s Orphanage Samrong, which is about 45 minutes from Phnom Penh. She has many siblings at Samrong, and she still lives there so commuting is a pain, but at this point it’s her only option. As Ben checks in with her about her family, how she likes her internship, her schedule, and the hotel guests, I am only able to pay attention to half of her replies. Not because I have difficulty understanding - her English is wonderful. In fact, that’s the problem; I am distracted by her ease in speaking to us and her calm demeanor.  She has no problem conversing with Ben and letting us know what is new.  As the three of us relax on the couch, she is standing confidently in front of us and her naturally comfortable mannerisms remind me of my peers who never once dreaded a class presentation; the type of people who didn’t have to practice their speeches in front of their bedroom mirror because they had this gift of not getting nervous in front of others. Chakreya has this skill, and it makes this already welcoming hotel lobby all the more genial. I could stay right here for the next six months. The busy streets of Phnom Penh and its noisy motos, shouting children, and barking dogs feel far, far away.

I am blown away by the ease of Chakreya’s polite responses to our questions. She tells us about her duties at the front desk and with housekeeping, where most travelers are coming from, and that she has a JOB! After her 6 month internship, she has been hired on as staff! Besides the regular paycheck, this means she can help her sister save money for a moto. She tells us she is also interested in studying Hotel Administration as she walks us down the street to a second Boddhi Tree guesthouse. As we reach the top of the stairs and enter the immaculate white porch, I can almost hear the comfy green and white striped wicker chairs calling my name. They are inviting me to grab a book, a mango shake, and my favorite pair of fake Ray Bans and spend an entire day in this welcoming, relaxed hideaway.

Chakreya has done very well. Her English is not forced or strained, and as we thank her for allowing us to stop by, Ben lets her know how much she’s improved. She enthusiastically nods and agrees – speaking with guests daily allows her to continue practicing and expanding her English skills.  Chakreya works very hard six days a week from 6am-3pm. Once she’s off work and back at Samrong, her responsibilities shift from greeting foreigners at the front desk to assisting the other children in the rice fields. It’s ploughing season after all, which means there’s rice to be prepared and every farmhand is needed. 

Chakreya was the first EGBOK Mission student I met. I come to find in the following days after meeting several other EGBOK Mission students that her dedication, willingness to improve, and overall vivaciousness represent her peers exceptionally well.

As we visit her again at Samrong on Tuesday, we are welcomed by her big, familiar smile. She is excited to show us the orphanage grounds and introduce us to the children, guiding us from tomato garden to classroom to chicken coop to dormitory. I am happy to see where she is coming from, and I couldn’t be more excited to see just where she will head. 

Khmer New Year in the Village - A Return to APCA

Two and a half minutes. Not as long as I was expecting; I was imagining that it would be more like ten leisurely minutes chatting with the older kids until the younger ones came out of their shells.

But two and a half minutes after my arrival at APCA, it felt like I was returning home. Because in the middle of that second minute, after my bags were starting to be hauled up the two flights of stairs by the courteous boys who never once complained about their massive weight, someone said it. The magic word that is apparently forever linked to Molly. The word? ‘Bingo’. As in the game that you see advertised at the Elks hall every Tuesday night at 7. Cambodian children can play this game forever – although they aren't aware of the fancy blotters, generous prizes, or loud microphones. Instead, each kid is responsible for their own homemade card made out of extra cardstock and rocks from the driveway are used as place holders. Prizes include Halloween-themed stickers, tattoos, and spider rings thanks to the Target post-Halloween 90% sale, and if I have to raise my voice to declare each number, I get to holler one of my favorite phrases, “Gomewat, gay-reeun!” This actually means, “Quiet! Study!” but I use it anyway because the only other phrase I can think of off- hand is “Gome kong” and telling them to not be angry wouldn't make as much sense.

So about five minutes after I arrived at APCA, we played Bingo for an hour. Some children still prefer to call the game Mango because it’s more fun to say “There was a man who had a dog, and Mango was his name-o! M-A-N-G-O…”. Once finished, I brought out the two photobooks I had made of the children. The books were a hit and the kids enjoyed pointing to the past volunteers and asking me when they will come back to APCA. I am as eager for their returns as the kids.

In nine months, the kids haven’t changed as much as I thought. Most haven’t grown much at all. There are five new additions and they are terrified of me. I’ve come in the middle of the most popular holiday of the year: Khmer New Year. This is the three day holiday that magically turns into a month vacation. All four of my evenings at APCA were spent dancing away to the Khmer version of 'Poker Face' and every famous Pitbull song under the sun. Most of the kids still remembered the line dances I taught them, so I familiarized them with ‘Ski Bumpin’, (my new favorite) and after watching the Michael Jackson dvd they wanted to learn a new dance of his. Sorry kids, I’m no Liv Warren.

Ever heard of the company Oriental Trading? I don’t know what I would do without them. They have arts and crafts for every holiday, age level, and skill level. Without turning this into an advertisement for OT, I’ll just keep it short by saying the 23 pounds of crafts I purchased from them was a great investment. The kids were used to organized, stress-free craft time biweekly with Diana, and although my patience isn’t quite at her level, she did a great job at training them the basic manners they lacked before she arrived. Even after nine months, most kids know it will drive me crazy if they approach me with outstretched hands and say, “Me. One.” Diana – your manners lessons worked! Now they are comfortable with a quick, “Can I please have one?” and sometimes they even remember to say thank you!

Before each evening’s dancing, we played traditional Khmer games. In one, I was blindfolded with a well-worn scarf (did someone say lice?), spun around 18,000 times, and told to identify any of the 50 children who were surrounding me in a circle. How hard could this be, right? It turns out, every boy has the exact same hair cut (did someone else say lice?), every girl the same slender shoulders, and none with jewelry or watches to give me any clues. On top of that, they are all amazing at keeping their mouths shut as I’m gently probing their face, head, hands, and shoulders to give me some idea who the unlucky child is. After guessing about five children incorrectly and being spun around another 7,429 times, I correctly guess (after about three minutes) the boy whose face and hands I am palpating is Meuk. Poor kid.

I spent one day visiting the different pagodas in the nearby villages with the APCA orphanage director. Last year at APCA I became very familiar with the feeling of being the only white person some of these villagers have ever seen. All you can do is smile, try to guess at what is going on, and act like wherever/whatever you are doing is the most natural thing ever. At one pagoda we divided a bowl of rice into 7 large basins that were already filled to the brim by other villagers who provide this food to the monks. The monks only eat breakfast and lunch every day and aren’t allowed to eat after noon, which is why I admire them so much. Sure, they can chant Sanskrit and Bali blessings for hours at a time in small, scrunched, scorching hot, incense-filled huts with dozens of people watching them -  who can’t? They can sit for hours at a time in the same cross legged position without any pillows or blankets under them; something that I would find difficult, but somehow more manageable than not eating past noon. EVERY DAY. Not even any snacking. No dessert!

The APCA children are always full of information on topics I have never paused to consider. For example, did you know there are three types of coughs? The first type of cough belongs to babies. The second type is reserved for old women. The third and most special cough is for the Playboys. For those who are unaware, Playboys are the Cambodian high schoolers who are also known as Sexy Boys. They bleach their hair red or yellow and do their best to imitate the Korean pop singers’ wardrobe. For those who aren’t aware of what that looks like, let me tell you this: YOU ARE MISSING OUT! Please watch this amazing music video and then you’ll be all caught up: SHINee

Back to the coughs of the Playboys/Sexy Boys. This is the type of cough an interested young man will quickly fake before he swiftly nods his head in acknowledgement of a Freshy Girl. A Freshy Girl is not as frequently referred to as a Sexy Girl, but she is the same thing. This means she wears high heels with her school uniform and adorns her ponytail with as many miniature stuffed animal hair do-dads she can possibly fit. If I had seen these girls when I was in first grade, I would have exploded with excitement. Also, I should clarify that Playboys are different than Lazy Boys. Lazy Boys drive their motos very fast and do not study or do homework. Playboys have been known to crack open a book once in awhile – and the APCA boys assure me they are neither, as they study very hard and never dye their hair. Their love for Korean pop culture certainly rivals that of the Playboys, though.

There, now you learned something new today.

I wanted to inquire about the laughs of the ‘taw gum-law’ (old man virgins) but didn’t want to interrupt our Freshy Girl conversation. ‘Taw gum-law’ is my version of every traveler’s incorrect and embarrassing use of a foreign word or phrase. Last year I spent six months calling 8-15 year old boys ‘old man virgins’ while thinking I was just calling them old grandpas.

Besides the children, most of my favorite things about APCA haven’t changed at all. The microfinance bank in the market where we taught at is still doing well and has expanded its staff. I stopped to chat with some of our old students there and got caught up with the latest Justin Bieber news, American Idol results, and Eminem albums. So glad I can travel 7,500 miles to keep up to date.

The coffee lady is still at the village market and Gong Sabai is doing well. Her basket isn’t as sturdy as it used to be, and her bell is missing, but she still rides like a charm. Sleeping under a mosquito net is still a pain, and the sinks have been removed from the entire building for a reason I cannot find. Still, I couldn’t be happier to spend 4 days with the kids during their vacation and on this special holiday. I am incredibly lucky to get to visit them and return to Cambodia. I look forward to more line dancing, Bingo-ing, and late night grammar chats in the coming months.

Next week, my fellow volunteer Katie and I will be heading up to Siem Reap to start working with EGBOK Mission. I am very much looking forward to getting to know the wonderful EGBOK students and seeing how well they’re doing.

Returning to The Kingdom

"Really?" is the reply I often get when I tell people I'm heading back to Cambodia. Some try to hide their bewilderment, others ask if I really liked it that much. Those who aren't fans of my decision kindly remind me of the leeches, orphanage food, and painfully hot climate I wasn't hesitant to leave behind last July. I had spent six amazingly challenging, exciting, and rewarding months in the beautiful Cambodian countryside teaching English at an orphanage of 70 kids.

Because of my positive experience last year and my love for traveling, when the opportunity to work with EGBOK Mission arose, it took me about a day to make my decision - I'll be returning for six months! Same country, same length, but much different work.

Teaching the high school students, I quickly realized how uncertain everything is regarding their futures. They've been told to not give up on Khmer government school, because a diploma is worth something (false). They've seen their peers drop out of school to work in the garment factories (where they'll make more than their teachers) and they know how valuable English skills are, as the tourism industry in Cambodia is rapidly expanding.

EGBOK (Everything's Gonna Be OK) Mission's aim is to allow the students who are interested in pursuing a career in the hospitality industry an opportunity to attend the universities and programs that will appropriately and successfully prepare them for a career in their chosen field.

In Siem Reap (a real city!) I'll be with other EGBOK Mission volunteers helping implement the English and hospitality curriculum to high school aged students. I'll also be helping students gain the professional skills needed to apply, interview, and ultimately gain acceptance into one of the hospitality schools. The batch of EGBOK Mission students who have nearly finished their studies will be applying for jobs upon completion of their programs. I look forward to assisting in this life-changing leap from engaged, hard working student to competent, respected employee and coworker. Egbok stresses the importance of finding the right career path for each individual student, making for a more rewarding and satisfying profession.

My overweight bags are packed, including the spf 50 lip balm. I've splurged on a $15 mango corer. This time I'll be lounging in an aisle seat, since last year's 16 hour window seat journey still gives me nightmares. Having gone through the experience of being told I'm too fat for much of the clothing in the Cambodian markets, my space bags are filled with a surplus of Target tees. My Khmer language skills have drastically gone down hill. In fact, my favorite phrase 'jung da morng nay', which means 'really?' (in a flirtatious tone) only gets spoken on rare occasion here at home. A shame, really, since it's fun to say and can be easily thrown into any conversation.

I'm ready.