Kampuchea Adventure

I am currently sitting on a bus leaving my training host family in Takeo and heading toward Phnom Penh for a few more days of training and our swear-in ceremony.

            I fell asleep a little while ago for a few minutes. Even though I’ve been here over two months already, I still sometimes find myself surprised to still be here.. if that makes sense. So when I woke up and opened up my eyes, I was surprised for a second to see an old shirtless Khmer man peeing on the side of the road. Then it all quickly came back to me of course, but those moments always make me laugh.

            Today I want to tell you about Kampuchea Adventure! (Kampuchea is how you say Cambodia in Khmer). We were given like a day and a half vacation from training to go to one of two places: either the city of Kampot or the beach at Kep. I decided to go to Kep. Then, to take it one step further, we decided to book a guest house on Rabbit Island, which is an island off the Kep shore.

            We left Takeo province at 5AM and got to Kep in time for breakfast. We went to a ritzy hotel/restaurant for breakfast called the Viranda. We were a little hesitant because it was a whole 6 bucks for breakfast, but it was SO worth it. They had bread and butter and bacon and omelettes (without cheese unfortunately, but still omelettes!), pizza, mango juice, potatoes, pasta, etc! We stuffed our faces. There were people clearly vacationing there and I enjoyed watching them watch us with confusion as we savagely devoured the food like we hadn’t eaten in days.

            And guess what? That 6 dollars also included access to their SWIMMING POOL! So we stayed another hour or so to use the pool, even though it was raining and it was actually kind of chilly.

            Then we went back to the shore to find some boats to take us over to Rabbit Island. We found these little wooden boats to take us over, 6 people to a boat. I got in a boat and looked around. Oh good, our boat was equipped with 12 bottles of chili sauce and a bag of fish heads! However.. every other boat had life jackets… OH WELL! Haha. No worries, we made it across alive.

            The water was actually really rough in the middle between the shore and the island. It was still raining, and the waves were crazy. Capsizing was definitely a possibility haha. We did get SOAKED from the waves splashing into the boat.

            And that’s when the game of Survivor started. Just like on the TV show, many of the Americans were wearing some nice Western clothing, not completely understanding what they are in for. We took boats to a remote island. We got to the island and saw… nothing. Jungle. Mud.

            The boat drivers pointed to a “path”. I say “path” because it was more like a mud stream than a path. So we started making our way, slushing through the mud. One girl’s flip flop became a prisoner of the mud when she stepped in and sunk down almost to her knee. Many people slipped and fell. I beefed it once. It was a good fall. It was gross mud too. The kind of mud you would find like those parasites that get under your skin, and then you find days later eating a path through your foot or your leg… :-P

            Anyways, we finally got to an open area, and all in a line are these tiny grass shacks. It took me a second to realize that this was the guest house we reserved and the bungalows were our rooms. So I laughed for a good long time, and then embraced it.

            First things first, we went swimming of course, which was a lot of fun. It was still raining and chilly out, but the water wasn’t any colder than the air, so it was comfortable to be in the water. I spent a lot of that day either in the water or sitting in a hammock reading a book. It was magical.

            As the sun was going down we built a fire. Actually, that’s a lie. The Americans built a tiny flame. Then a Khmer man built us a fire haha. We went swimming again at night, because we heard rumors about bioluminescence (I am so proud of myself for spelling this word right on the first try). If you go out into the water and you wave your hands around in the water, the plankton that you disturb glow like glitter. It was very cool.

            Then I went back to my bungalow to get to bed, and that’s when things got really silly. I started to set up the mosquito and realized that there were just holes everywhere in the mosquito  net. Some were just tiny rips, but there were 2 or 3 holes the size of basketballs. Fantastic, not only will we be sleeping with mosquitoes, but we’ll also be sleeping with rats and snakes and probably chickens, considering my history with crazy Cambodian chickens. Also, everything was wet. Not just a little damp, but pretty wet. I guess that is to be expected, considering we were just a few meters away from the water, but it should be noted nonetheless. Then as I looked at the sheet I was supposed to sleep on, I saw the telltale sign of bedbugs- spots of blood on the sheet. My roommate for the night got in bed at this point, and she realized that when she laid down on our bed, her feet stuck straight out of one of the basketball size holes. So after giggling like we were at a middle school sleepover, we decided we had to do something.

            We lowered the mosquito net, which actually helped us cover most of the big holes because we could stuff more of it under the bed. We then decided to sleep on top of the blanket they gave us. It was a little dryer than the sheet, and it also made us feel better about the bed bugs, even though realistically it wouldn’t help at all. I used my sarong as a blanket. And despite all of that, I slept pretty well, listening to the waves in the Gulf of Thailand lapping against the shore. How cool is that?

            We all put on our last dry clothes the next morning, trekked back through the mud, and got on the boats. The boats were a little less exciting this time around, because I don’t know about everyone else, but I did not want to be wet anymore. But alas, I got soaked. We went back to the Viranda hotel for a second shot at breakfast. Then we had a few hours to kill by the pool before the van came to pick us up and bring us back home. I didn’t go in because, as I said, I did not want to be wet. So I read beside the pool and took a catnap.

            Overall it was a great trip. It was certainly an experience. I wouldn’t say it was the best day here or anything, mostly because I still feel like I don’t always fit in perfectly well with these people. I dunno. Maybe I’m annoying sometimes. Who knows? But I enjoy their company. They make me laugh. And I also enjoyed my alone time. I’m very glad I went with this group, and I’d say we certainly have stories to share.

I dont have pictures from Kampuchea adventure, because as I said my family dropped it in the Som Law, but I have these to share. The first two pics are of my moms outdoor kitchen. Then it is a picture of my and my younger. The other two pictures are from a few weeks back when we trekked up a mountain in Kirivong. I have more awesome pictures from that trip that I will have to post next time.

have a good day.

Community Activities

Hello, avid readers.

            I’m somewhat falling behind with things I want to write about. Training is coming to a screeching halt soon. We will be celebrating Pchum Ben, finishing up classes, and saying goodbye to our training host families by this Thursday. I’ll talk more about that in a future post.

            One of the tasks of training is a community activity. We were told to get into groups of about 3, and plan a project we could do with our community with a budget of 10 dollars for each group. Well, because of the small amount of money, and the lack of time to really plan a lot, my training village decided to pool our money for just two major projects.

            Our first project was a School Beautification project. Literally, we just went with a bunch of garbage bags, and just picked up garbage all around the school for a few hours. Garbage in Cambodia is treated very differently here than in America. Throwing an empty wrapper on the side of the road is completely acceptable. Sometimes people clean it up. Usually people don’t. At schools, there is usually a rotation system where students clean up the school grounds once a week. But they don’t really RAKE the school free of trash like we did. When the trash is picked up, it is brought to a larger pile of trash to e burned. These piles can be pretty big, and if you know anything about fire, you would know that it would take a lot to burn through the trash completely. You can burn those piles of trash for hours, and still only get rid of about 1% of the pile. That is because the pile is often wet, has non-flammable material, and oxygen can’t get in through the pile.

            In addition to picking up the garbage, we also built 3 large cement bins- 1 for recycling, 1 for compost, and 1 for burning. We invited all the students to come help, and they all came, but most left within the hour once they saw what we were doing lol. Cleaning up the trash is just a foreign idea to them. They don’t see the trash as a health issue, but rather just as a beauty issue, so they don’t care as much. There were some students however who stayed the whole time and really worked hard! But we learned that in the future if we were to do another project like this, we would add an education section of it, to explain why we are cleaning the school, and why the cleanliness should sustain.

            I was more involved in planning our second project, which was a gender empowerment workshop. We had 20 boys and 20 girls show up. We separated them, and had the boys lead the boys and the girls lead the girls. In the girls room, we started with modeling a T-chart talking about men and women in America. We listed all kinds of things, such as that both are expected to go to college, but only men are expected to be good at sports. Then we had the girls make their own T-chart about Cambodia. Cambodian students are very shy, especially the girls, so sometimes it was hard to get them to participate, but all in all it went very well.

            I know in the boys’ room they had guest speakers who were exemplary Khmer men. One talked about his relationship with his wife and kids, another talked about relating with women in the workplace, and the last one talked about his mother.

            The second half of the workshop was about relationships- having healthy ones and avoiding abusive ones. This was tricky because Khmer people don’t really have relationships like we do in America. They rarely date, and if they do, they are expected to marry that person. I think this maybe just makes it even more important to tell them about having good relationships, because they have never heard it before, and it’s not something they talk about ever. That is not for  lack of abusive relationships existing, but more because it is pretty much socially acceptable.

            So for the second half, both groups heard from two presenters, myself and another volunteer. I talked first hand about my experience in an abusive relationship and my teacher translated. It was actually very difficult to talk about and I was very nervous and shaky. I of course didn’t share everything, because a lot of it wouldn’t culturally translate, but I shared enough. Both the boys and the girls were fixed on listening to my story. After I shared with the groups (separately, girls then boys), I shared with them a chart about the four different types of abuse- emotional, verbal, physical, and sexual. We talked about examples of abuse from my story, which included the first three. I could tell that this information was so new and foreign to the boys and girls. They are not taught about this in a health class like we are in America. My teacher was even finding it hard to find words that would translate from abuse and other key words.

            The chart included the types of abuse, and the kinds of things that it represents. My teacher told me that she learned a lot from the whole presentation, and even wrote it all down for her future reference. I made sure to stress to everyone that abuse does not just come in the form of physical as many people believe, and it also does not just happen to women.

            After I spoke, another volunteer shared a story that was very powerful. I won’t share here because it is not my place to. But overall it was a very emotional and powerful day. The presenters especially felt it. I know for a fact that we at least got the students thinking about abuse, which is a huge step forward.

            For me, I feel like this project was a success because I know I really got through to my teacher and another Khmer Peace Corps staff member. She came to me afterwards and thanked me for sharing my story. She told me that our stories are the same, and she had a man just like I did. She told me that I was lucky because I did not marry him- and she did. Now she is divorced, but she put up with it all for a long long time, and her life will never be the same. She told me it was somehow comforting to know that even in a developed country like America, things like this still happen, and we are all in this together.

            The first two pictures are of the trash bins we made. Those are some of my favorite Khmer students helping. The third picture is from the Gender Empowerment workshop. The fourth is of my mom chopping open a coconut. Usually she uses a bigger machete lol. Oh, and don’t tell her but… I actually don’t like coconut! The next one is of my mom cooking. Usually she cooks in the little wooden building behind the house, but this day she let me watch her cook. The last one is pretty self explanatory- fish in the market. 

Culture Shock: slammed back into rejection

            Culture shock has its ups and downs, and sometimes you can go from happy acculturation back into rejection at the blink of an eye.

            Today I was having a great day. I went to the Wat with my mom, dad, and little brother. People fussed over me. I heard over and over again that I was pretty, but my hair was dirty, my arms were hairy, and my nails were ugly. But I can deal. Then I came home, my family made me eat a ridiculous amount of food, and then I skyped with Emily, Andrew and Al for like an hour and a half. Then I relaxed for a bit: studied and played some uke. After that, I sat and talked with my sister for a long long time, which I always love doing. Things were great!

            I’ve been wanting to get a picture of my whole family for a while. And I’ve been wanting to get some shots of what dinner time looks like. So I brought my camera to the table, and did get some good shots! Then as my camera was being passed around the table, my mom and my little brother lost their grip of it and it fell right into the soup. My mom freaked out and got it out as quick as she could. I didn’t really react because I thought my camera has been through a lot.. it can handle some Khmer soup. SO my mom runs and gets napkins, and I start wiping it off. But now I’m realizing that the lens is not going back into the camera… and the screen isn’t turning on. I finished drying it off, but it’s still not working. My whole family was watching me in complete silence. I was upset about my camera, but the last thing I wanted was for my mom to feel like she has to somehow pay me back for this. So I told them it wasn’t a problem and I was just going to wait for it to dry.

            Dinner was quieter than it has ever been.

            After dinner I took my camera into my room to see if I could fix it without my family watching and feeling bad. No luck. Not only is it not working, but it also reeks of fish soup. Why did it have to be fish soup??

            After I pronounced my camera dead, I figured I should go out to my family and put on a happy face so that they don’t feel like I am going to hold this against them. So I went back to the kitchen, and they are all sitting around the TV watching their favorite Khmer Comedy show. I sit down, and they ask me if my camera is working. I said not yet- the safest non-lying answer I could give. My dad asked me if it smells bad. That was not worth lying about, so YEAH!

            Then we quieted down to watch the show. I don’t particularly like this show to begin with. It is sort of like Saturday Night Live with skits and a live audience. There is always a lot of shouting and really fast talking, and can only understand MAYBE 10% of it, on a good day. But when I want to spend quality time with my family, this is what I gotta do.

            So this skit starts with a young man and a woman. They were putting on coats, scarves and big silly ski hats because they were going to America! It was pretty funny. The woman kept practicing saying “excuse me” and the man was putting on make-up to make himself whiter, and he said in Khmer “I only know how to speak Khmer a little” haha.

            So then the scene fast forwards and they are in America looking around. Then an “American couple” walks on to the stage. From here on in there is no talking (whether because the actors can’t speak English or the audience can’t speak English, I don’t know. Probably both). The woman is wearing enormous sunglasses. The man is wearing a black wife-beater and I believe he had tattoos. Both were poorly dressed and just looked rude and dirty.

            The Khmer couple accidentally bumped into the American couple, and the American woman fell down. The Khmer man bowed and apologized, but the American man wouldn’t have it. He walked over to the Khmer woman and pushed her to the ground. So the Khmer man retaliated by pushing the American girl down again. Then the American man did the same- AGAIN. Then the Khmer man took something like a bat out of his bag and hits the American girl with it. The American man does the same. They both end up beating the girls with the bat, breaking their legs, and breaking their arms. Then in the end, The American man and the Khmer man call an unspoken truce of respect, shake hands, and hug.

            I can’t even put to words what the most disturbing part of this was. I sat there watching in complete shock and horror the whole time. First of all, last time I checked domestic abuse was never funny. I was disturbed that Khmer people could think this was funny. I was disturbed by the Khmer impression of Americans. I was disturbed by the womens’ passiveness in the scene. They literally just sat there and whined every time they were beat. Yes, domestic abuse happens in both countries, but in America it is never funny.

            Now I’m sitting in my room, also remembering the last thing that really disturbed me. I went dancing in Phnom Penh with some Peace Corps friends. I was having a good time until I stopped and really looked around. Around the room there were a few old rich white males accompanied by awkward looking young beautiful Khmer women. I looked over the balcony down at the street below, and I saw more of the same. I’m sure you can figure out just as well I could what this was. Some were probably American. I know I compared Cambodia and America in terms of their reaction to domestic abuse, but realistically- people are screwed up everywhere.

            It’s times like these that I wish I could close my eyes and just for one night sleep in my own bed, under my own roof, and just… understand all the ways of the small world around me.

            But tomorrow, I will: get up, think about doing laundry, decide I can go one more day, look over some notes, go to language class, have more of a therapy session than a language class with my teacher, and continue to go on about my day. I’ll climb back up the acculturation line in no time. 

Personal Statement *INSERT GRADUATION MUSIC HERE*

To finish off training, we had to put together some materials to create a small portfolio. One of the materials was a Personal Statement, which of course I waited until the last minute to do. I was going to stop after the first paragraph, but my hand kept writing! And now I have this nerdy sad excuse for imagery as a Personal Statement. Oh well. I will also call it a pre-written blog entry, where all I have to do is copy and paste, then upload fun pictures to put at the bottom for your enjoyment.

            As a Peace Corps volunteer in Cambodia, my roles as an English teacher are numerous and varied. I am an expert on the English language because I am a native speaker. I am an encourager of creative teaching and educational activities. I am a resource for the teachers. I am a lesson-planning and brainstorming buddy. I am a role model of professionalism and dedication. I am the class pronunciation police. I am an English conversation practicing tool. I am a reason for students to be excited to go to English class (at least initially). I am a teacher trainer. Most importantly, I am a supporter of organic ideas and efforts in the community, from the students to the school director.

            My idea of what it means to be in the Peace Corps reminds me of what I was doing before I came to Cambodia. As a school Orchestra Director, it was my job to help everyone within the orchestra achieve to their best potential. The first step of preparation and rehearsal is assessment of the level of performance as a whole. This includes observation and intent listening, which I plan to do at site. From there, the director spends much time in rehearsal. The director applauds strengths and works through weaknesses. He or she works with individual instruments, groups of instruments, and with the whole orchestra. A good orchestra director always feeds off the players’ emotions, desires, and interpretations as individuals and as a community of players. As the performers gain skill and confidence, the school Orchestra Director’s role becomes more about support. Instead of long-winded instructions or modeling, the performers only need small cues, or even just a reassuring glance. Then, in the end, everyone does their part to create the finished product with flawless transitions, balance, and blending. The school orchestra director makes no noise and contributes nothing to the sound. Finally, when it is all over, the Orchestra Director averts all pride and praise to the performers, commending their talent, skill, and hard work alone. The director has essentially only brought out what the performers had inside of them all along.

            My goal is that at the end of my Peace Corps service, I can get off the podium and know that the finished product and the skills acquired in the process are things that my community can take with them for years and years after I am gone.

1. Laundry! (bowk cow ow)

2. Dog. Costume design by Leeny.

3. Something I wish I actually had time to do! This picture is a set-up. I have actually yet to sleep in a hammock, though it is a cultural norm here.

4. Suave Jimi

5. Nothing cooler than my Peace Corps issued bike and helmet!

Chicken Peace Corps and Site Visit

First, let’s talk about chickens. Cambodian chickens all over are having a severe identity crisis here. I do not believe that their job description is as clear here as it is in America. For example, roosters are nature’s alarm clock, right? Well, in this facet, roosters are going above and beyond the call of duty. Yes they will wake you up at dawn, but they will continue to try to “wake you up” throughout the day. Also, roosters are confused as to when dawn actually is. Last night, the first wake up call happened around 1:30AM.

I am currently visiting my new permanent site, which I will talk a little more about later. I was given a sheet with some information about my site before I got here. Under a section labeled History of Crime in the Neighborhood, it said “chicken stealing chicken”. Of all the information on my sheet, this concerned me the most! Gangsters are somewhat of a problem in Cambodia and it appears that the gangsters in my village are actually the chickens! There is some serious chicken on chicken crime happening here!

So then I got here and I met these chickens. These chickens are so weird. I think sometimes they think they are dogs. The come up and sniff me and hang out under my feet when I am eating. We have 2 huge roosters here and I know they’re trying to communicate to me with each sharp crane of the neck! I know it!

My bedroom and the bathroom are on the second floor. I was confused to see that somebody put a ladder from the chicken coop up to the roof that is right outside my window. So the chickens hang out on the roof? I wouldn’t be surprised if these chickens built the ladder themselves.

Yesterday, I was taking a bath up on the second floor and I could hear the chickens loud and clear, like they were right next to me. So I go look out the window and… the chickens are climbing the tree???? What?? There were 3 chickens climbing around in the tree, I kid you not.

So, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. The Peace Corps is an organization where trained and experienced Americans go to foreign countries to share their expertise at a given job or field of work. I think that the US government should create a Peace Corps for chickens. I think the chickens here could really benefit from the expertise that American chickens take for granted. But that’s just my own personal opinion.

Now for a brief, slightly more serious update on my life. Two days ago was site announcement day. I have been assigned to Prey-Vang Province. This province is very poor and the entire province has only ever had one PC volunteer before, 4 years ago. This year, Peace Corps placed four of us in the Province. My site is brand new. They have never had a volunteer in this town before. This is exciting, but it definitely makes it a whole lot more challenging.

We first went to the Provincial city. One wonderful thing about it is that the city is right up against a large lake. It is really beautiful and there is a nice breeze that comes off the lake. The streets are muddy and dirty, but I think this place is about as authentically Khmer as you can get. There is nothing for tourists here in Prey Vang, so they very rarely get foreigners.

Yesterday morning I met my new host family. During my site placement interview I asked for one thing- a big family. Well, its just me and a couple. The woman is 30 and the man is 39. They are super nice, but it is awkward. They house is quiet, nothing exciting is happening, and I feel like I have to be careful to only take 1/3 of the food at mealtimes. I can’t even express right now how much I am going to miss my training host family, all 7 of them lol.

The house is a very traditional Cambodian house. It is made of wood and it is up on stilts. There is a really nice porch with wooden benches and a table. I can see myself hanging out there quite a bit. The main living area of the room is big and beautiful. They have a TV that even has some English channels on it! My host brother made me watch the discovery channel last night! The awkward thing is that there is no place to sit and watch the tv, except for a mattress on the floor. That sounds divine for a married couple but… throw me into the mix and that’s a little odd lol.

Then toward the back of my house is the bathroom and my bedroom. The bathroom is… ok. Not much to say about that. Then my bedroom is mmm kinda small. Actually its not THAT small, but there is no room because Cambodians like large beds. So the bed takes up the whole room. There is a small cabinet in my room, but its filled with their stuff. I fit in the room now, but that is only because I only have 4 days’ worth of stuff. There is definitely not enough room for my Peace Corps trunk and other stuff. I want to ask my new family about that but I don’t have the language skills to do that. So I guess my game plan is just to show up in 3 weeks with all my stuff, and they will be shocked and then we will have to figure it out. Also my room is kinda covered in cobwebs and is made of really flimsy material- like cardboard walls and wrapping paper floor. There are tons of rodent and lizard holes too. Welcome to the Peace Corps Diana. Lol

BTW as I write this, a chicken just fell out of a tree hahahahaha.

Ok moving on. Then this morning I went to the school to meet the school director. That went pretty well. I bumped into someone who turned out to be the lead English Teacher there. He introduced me to the School Director and helped me explain what my purpose is here. Then he showed me around a little bit, and that was that.

So from what I can tell, my living experience here is going to be very very different from what I have in Takeo right now. This is a much more grown up, independent living arrangement. I think I will be spending a lot of time doing work related things and not much time socializing. I am not thrilled, but I think I can make it work.

Pitchas:

1- The best picture I could get of a chicken in a tree.

2- One of my favorite meals my training host mom makes. Its fish covered in diced up pineapples, tomatoes, peppers, and other vegetables.

3- Another divine dish- tiny mussels and squid.

4- my little bro in front of my beautiful training house that I will miss so much!

5- the main living area of my current home. My room is the first one on the left.

6- dining/living/bedroom. We eat sitting on the table in the bottom right corner. The TV is on the left across from the chair. Then my parents' bed is behind the TV.

The Killing Fields

Last week I took a trip with some other volunteers to what is known as The Killing Field. For those of you who don’t know, Khmer people were the victims of a brutal genocide a mere 30 years ago, at the hands of a faction known as the Khmer Rouge under Pol Pot. These killing fields existed all throughout Cambodia. The nearest one to us is about 15 km, or an hours bike ride. Of course it was a dreary rainy day all day, which is uncommon actually.

As soon as we got to the Killing Field, I sensed a completely different atmosphere. I could feel that awful things happened there. The grounds are currently set up as a makeshift memorial for the people who died there. Around the area were occasional stones with Khmer and English to explain certain spots. I walked over to these two trenches, which were almost filled with rain water. The stone sign said that here is where the Khmer Rouge put the bodies of the people they murdered. It was right next to the entrance. The stone said that they would cover up the bodies with banana leaves so that people coming in through the entrance wouldn’t be able to see the bodies. As I was walking next to the trenches I noticed a small heap of maybe 20-30 extremely ratty articles of clothing just sitting on the wet rainy ground. Those clothes were actually taken from the bodies in those two trenches. They pulled out about 10,000 bodies from those two small trenches. Next to those trenches was another slightly larger roped up area. This was another trench that hasn’t been excavated yet. It is estimated that there is another 10,000 bodies buried there. That makes a total of 20,000 people who died at this killing field.

In the center of the grounds there was a large tree. The stone next to it said that the Khmer Rouge put speakers in this tree and when they were killing people, they would use the speakers so that no one could hear the screams.

Relatively close to the large tree stood a tall thin pyramid. Inside the pyramid is where all of the bones from the 10,000 excavated victims lie. The sides of the pyramids are glass so you can see it all. Unfortunately, a lot of the glass is already broken and falling apart. Inside the glass, skulls and bones are piled high. It’s so hard to look at that pile and know that each skull had a name, a story, a family, a personality, and a really horrible death.

On the other side of the tree and the pyramid was a small building. There was a lot of Khmer writing on this building, but there was also amazing artwork all around. One the outside walls of the building, people painted in little boxes. The paintings said more than words ever could. Many showed scenes of the types of things that happened at this Killing Field. Some showed signs of peace and unity. Some drew pictures of Buddha. All of them were saturated with emotion. I spent a lot of time looking at each one of those paintings.

When I found out I was going to Cambodia, and I did my research on the country, I was appalled by the genocide and I knew that it would somehow affect my service here. And I was right, but no textbook could have prepared me for actually seeing these things. The biggest part of it is that now I know and I love Khmer people. They are so gentle and so unbelievably brave. This was something that should never have happened to them.

My teacher has told me a bit about her family’s experience during the Khmer Rouge Regime. She was 6 years old when it started. Her family was completely separated. Her mother was sent to work at the womens’ camp. She was forced to work in the fields harvesting crops. Her father was sent to the mens’ camp. He was forced to work as a blacksmith, making tools for the Khmer rouge. Her oldest brother was outwardly against the Khmer Rouge, so when the Khmer Rouge took over, he fled for his life. He walked through the jungle for 37 days to get to the US Embassy in Thailand. Twice he was captured, but both times he managed to escape. He made it to the Embassy and flew to Ohio, where a Jewish family took him in and got him on his feet. He still lives in Ohio, and now has one grandson! I spent some time with him because he was visiting Cambodia when classes first started. My teacher’s second oldest brother was killed by the Khmer Rouge when he was 25 at the killing field that I went to. One of those bodies was his. As I said, my teacher was only 6 years old. She was left to take care of her 3 year old cousin by herself. She lived in a wooden shack with no walls and leaves for a roof for 4 years. Twice a day, all the people were allowed to go to the Town Kitchen with a bowl. They were given one scoop of rice porridge to take home to eat. People were not allowed to grow their own food, or eat off of any tree. If they did, they could be killed. My teacher recalls eating peanuts one day, and her mother telling her “why did you do that?? If they find out, they will kill me!” She said that she often would eat leaves because she was so hungry. She had only one “outfit” that she wore every day until she was almost 10.

My mother also told me a little bit about her story. I know less about her though because she doesn’t speak English. I believe my mom is 46, which means my mom would have been maybe a preteen when it started. I know that she was forced to do labor, and that she was starved. She said that she got very very skinny. They killed her father, and I think she said they killed a brother too.

I don’t really know how to end this blog post. Normally I give short funny anecdotes about my life here. But I think instead I’ll just say that I am so happy to have been placed in Cambodia. I have so much to learn from the Khmer people, and I look up to them in so many more ways than I can ever hope to express in my awful language skills.