Don't think about something....

The last few weeks have been pretty eventful. Lots going on. I have been sitting here thinking about what I want to write, but I keep losing motivation so I figured I would give the very abridged version.

Over water festival weekend I went to Siem Reap and spent time with other volunteers and tried to avoid the masses. Phnom Penh is out of control during Water Festival with people pouring in from all over the country. Many of you have probably seen news reports or read about the stampede during this years celebrations which lead to the deaths of roughly 350 Khmer people. Fortunately there were no peace corps volunteers or staff involved but many of the communities in which we live and work were effected. Being so far removed from Phnom Penh, it has had less of an impact on my community than those of many other volunteers. Irregardless of location though, it was a tragedy for the entire country, which has had more than its share already.

On a happier note! This Thanksgiving was one He!! of a production. There was an in service training held in my provintial town on the friday following Thanksgiving for all of the new volunteers. Soooo 8 or so of us spent the better part of 2 days cooking thanksgiving dinner for about 80 people. I made brownies, sugar cookies, and apple crisp for dessert, and pitched in here and there with the dinner preparations. I rubbed a raw turkey with oil. This was a big step in overcoming my touching raw meat phobia. I would also reccommend basting turkeys with Anchor Beer. They turned out great. It was a lot of work but a lot of fun, I may even have enjoyed the prep for the big meal more than the big meal itself. As tradition dictates: I am Thankful to have now spent two great Thanksgivings in Cambodia.

The latest and greatest at site moments include:

1) discovering khmer dance aerobics at my market. They are hard core about it too.
2) Best awkward Foo conversation:
Foo: CHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?
Me: GETTING DRESSED
Foo: Can I watch a little please?
Me: (SILENCE............).....No.
* He has stopped trying to follow me into the bathroom when I showed which is a step in the right direction.
3) People laughing hard over my boldily harm/stupidity/clumsiness. I showed one of the nurses at the healthcenter that I had burned my chin with a curling iron. She started howling with laughter. Thought it was about the funniest thing ever and then started talking over patients to tell the other nurses about it. They are all still making fun of me about it. I am not sure I will ever fully understand khmer sense of humor, but I appreciate the ability to make people laugh.
4) Assessment exam responses. Very few of my students were able to get to the essay questions in this exam I gave last week...only one out of the 80 or so kids that took it, was able to get to the last question. It was something along the lines of "talk about some dangers or health hazards in Cambodia and how to avoid them." Her response was (abridged version):
There is bodys healthy and hearts healthy. For bodys healthy eat good food [blah blah etc...] For heart's healthy: 1)Try not to stress, 2)Try to be happy all time, 3) Don't work so much, 4) Don't think about something.

So there you have it, the keys to emotional health and stability. Don't work, don't stress, don't think, and be happy!

Safety & Security

Recently I went for a walk down the dirt road I lived on for the first few months at site, it winds back through rice fields and houses. While walking I ran into my old neighbor. She asked me if I was afraid to walk alone and I naturally said no and continued on my way. I passed a few more houses with people who waved and asked where I was going. I kept walking and was invited to sit and "talk play" with a family, so I did. When I got up to go with the intention to walking farther they scolded me and told me to go home because it was 5:00p. They seemed to be looking past me so turned and saw a random guy sitting on his moto just staring at us. Or me rather. I had seen him ride his moto past me at least 4 times while I was walking. So, I turned around and walked back towards town. Then I started thinking again about the question "are you afraid?" and why I am not. It occurred to me that people like that family are why I feel safe walking alone on backroads.

Now I am sitting in a hotel room in Siem Reap and thinking about why I feel perfectly safe leaving my moneyand passport on the night stand and my laptop and ipod on the bed while in a huge tourist town on one of the bussiest weekends of the year(Water festival). I think last night is a pretty good illustration of why. My roommate and I came back late after going out dancing to find that they had pulled the gate over the doors shut. Getting locked out of your guest house could be cause for alarm, but they knew we were out and left the gate slightly open so we could get back in. The two women who run the front desk were asleep on cots in the lobby and we did not want to wake them so we hopped behind the counter to look for our key. We could not find it. Naturally I am thinking...well if we could get in and just jump behing the counter then anyone could do it...But eventually we woke one of the women and she laughed, lifted up her pillow, and handed us our room key.

When we all first got to country we were told, as were PC trainees all over the world I am sure, that the best way to ensure our personal safety was to build relationships in our communities. After a little over a year I can say I think they are right.I feel safe walking alone in my community because I cannot go 10 feet without being greeted, asked where I am going, or asked to join a family in whatever they happen to be doing at the time (usually eating rice or talk playing). Moreover they warn me when something is off (subtly, but still). I feel safe leaving my valuables in a hotel room in Siem Reap because the ladies downstairs call me sister, know where I live and who I came here to visit, and sleep with my room key under their pillow!

Creative Parenting

I’ve seen a lot of what I will term “creative parenting” during my time in Cambodia, but I saw a particularly amusing technique while at the health center this week. There was a woman waiting for a pre-natal checkup with a son who looked to be about two. He was running wild having a great time and his poor 6-months pregnant mother was chasing him all over the place. Eventually she got fed up. He was getting ready to make a run for it again so she grabbed a piece of medical tubing that was lying around and tied one end of it to his ankle and the other to her chair. Then she and the other pregnant ladies sat there and laughed at him while he tried to get away and dissolved into wailing fits of rage on the floor. Tying up your children seems to be frowned upon in America, but in Cambodia it accomplishes the desired result AND provides entertainment for your friends.

This past week has been the coldest of my Cambodian experience and I am being a complete baby about it. I have been sleeping in a sweater with 2 blankets. I am not sure if it has actually been cold or if I have just become that used to the climate. I am considering putting together a photo album of Khmer winter fashions because people wear the most hilarious get ups to keep warm. I saw a little girl in a santa suit the other day.

Among other highlights; I got to make a trip down to the beach over a long weekend to celebrate halloween with friends. The beach makes me happy. Also, I was able to attend a Hillary Clinton meet and greet at the US Embassy along with about 20 other volunteers. I was not one of the lucky few who got to shake her hand (I thought lunging over children was sort of bad form)but it was still a cool experience. Foo has started wearing a backpack and telling me he is going to school to learn English. So far he knows "1-10" (not necessarily in order) as well as "bye bye." His backpack contains a notebook, pen, waterbottle, and rubber band gun. He has taken to shooting me with the rubber band gun (doesnt actually shoot rubber bands...just makes a snapping noise) and then yelling "CHER STOP DYING!!!!!!!!!!" It is more funny in Khmer because there are two words for die. One is used for humans and the other for animals. He uses the animal death word for me. Thanks Foo.

"Don't talk to crazy people"

I have written about the woman at my school who thinks she is a teacher, and I think I have mentioned the woman my host mom chased away with a stick during training (that’s quite a story so you guys will have to let me know if I have not in fact shared that experience). There is a strange man who often shows up at eating establishments I frequent and raves about people trying to kill him and wanting my phone number. Now we have a new character. I was at the market the other day buying fruit and chatting with my fruit lady when this woman walked up. She wore glasses and had a trendy haircut (signs of $$) so I did not realize right away that she was talking nonsense. Of course, the fact that her sentences consisted of Khmer, English, AND French, didn’t help. Anyhow she was showing me random stuff out of her purse and the fruit stand ladies were giving me “we don’t know what she is saying either” kinds of looks. So finally I completed my fruit transaction and walked home. I had been sitting chatting with my jolly yay for a few minutes when this woman appeared in front of my house. She sauntered on over and sat down next to me and proceeded to sing me a song while pointing to various injuries on various parts of her body. I sat there looking puzzled for a bit before my ming (aunt) looked at me and mouthed “GO IN THE HOUSE”. So I did. Later my business yay asked me about it. I told her that I didn’t know the woman and that she had followed me from the market and I didn’t know what to do. Her advice was this; “Cher, do not talk to crazy people.” Duly noted.

This past several weeks also included another golden moment with my Khmer tutor. I asked her the Khmer word for “rub,” as in “rub in ointment,” or something along those lines. The dictionary had several contextual options for “rub,” one of which was “rub one out,” and I naturally laughed. She naturally wanted to know why I laughed. I attempted to explain the slang meaning by having her look up relevant words, as a result I discovered another glaring omission in the Khmer dictionary (well, the one we were using at least).

Every once in a while I am struck by an unexpected memory of my pre Cambodian life that leaves me feeling nostalgic. This week I was contemplating Halloween and my thoughts wandered to Kay. Kay is (or at least was) the organic chemistry lab coordinator at Linfield. I thought of her because she took Halloween seriously. Every year on Halloween Kay came to work in a full body lion suit, complete with tail, and lab coat. Arguably, a full body lion suit is not the best idea in a chem. Lab, but that never stopped her. I was debating dressing up for Halloween this year, but I think I will in honor of Kay.

Foo is still a little monster. I have included photographic evidence in this blog. The other night he stuck his head in my mosquito net and started banging on the keys of my laptop until he noticed the movie that was playing and then asked if Hannah Montana is my friend. Yes, I was watching the Hannah Montana movie.

Goals

Not much new has happened in the last several weeks. I did a little traveling and a little relaxing around Cambodia, celebrated the k4s swearing in in Phnom Penh, and had a couple low key weeks at site waiting for school to get going again. It has been fun getting to know the new volunteers in my province since swear in. I know it isnt new years but I feel like the swearing in of new volunteers is a good time to re-assess goals. So here is a list of my new goals for the last 10 months in Cambodia:

1)Learn to like beer. It's far more economical.
2)Start reading things of substance again. I recently rememebered that I like learning, and moreover, and I hate how much stuff I have forgotten. (Dad I now understand why we used to find you reading chemistry textbooks in the garage,I wish I had mine here)
3)Teach less EFC and more creative things. I surprised myself with the realization that I really like teaching, I just hate the EFC (the English Language Curriculum used here).
4)Try more new recipes. I made pumpkin soup last weekend and it was a success. I really should learn to cook khmer food too...
5)Travel outside of Cambodia. It seems ridiculous that I have been here over a year and haven't gone anywhere (except America of course...)
6)Get khmer-tastic photos taken.
7)?
8)?
9)?
10)Figure out what I am doing after Cambodia.

Khmer Medical Terms

I am in Kampong Cham once again helping with training. Today one of the volunteers had an English/Khmer dictionary of medical termonology. While waiting for community activities to start a few of us went through the dictionary, as a result I now have a number of new favorites.

the khmer term for sperm literally translatess to "the boss of life"
the khmer term for speculum literally translates to "Tool to open the golden door"
the khmer term for anus literally translates to "big door"
AND last but not least, the khmer term for priapism translates to "angry penis"

Gross

It has been nice taking a break from busy and just hanging out at site. It’s nice to feel that way. I have spent a considerable amount of time recently laying in my hammock, eating pomegranates, and reading the Chronicles of Narnia and various other novels of comparable intellectual magnitude (in addition to mornings at the health center, lesson planning and translating, of course).

I realized the other night that there is a major omission in my khmer language knowledge, an omission which most certainly needs to be remedied given that I live with a 3 year old boy. The word I seem to be missing in my Khmer repetoir is “gross.” I know how to say various things like “not delicious,” “I don’t like,” “…smells bad,” etc… But I do not know how to express disgust at another person. It would be natural at this point to be wondering what brought to light this hole in my education. The incident occurred around 6:30PM on the night of September the 3rd, 2010. I was cooking my dinner and in marched Foo. He climbed up onto a stool next to me as he often does when I am cooking dinner. He began asking me various “Cher, what is this? Where did you buy it? etc…” types of questions as per usual. I looked over to respond to his inquiries and saw that he was buck naked with one leg on the stool and one on my counter/cooking surface in a lunge-like position. I laughed; 3 year olds like to run around naked, whatever. But then he started eating things; things that are not meant to be eaten by themselves. It started with an uncooked penne noodle. No big. Then he had his hand in my oatmeal tin. Then he started tasting my spices (and crinkling his nose after each one and yelling “Doikanea!!” which means ‘the same’). Then he was sticking his finger in my spaghetti sauce. None of this is terribly disgusting but then I turned away to stir my pasta and when I looked back Foo was standing on the counter, still completely naked, shoveling the contents of a can of low-fat milk powder into his mouth with a spoon. GROSS. I mean if it had been frosting or something, sure, but low-fat milk powder…not delicious.