Once upon a time, there was a young man who was ruler of all of Takeo. His name was Leeny and he was 9 years old (Don’t let him trick you into believing he is actually 10).
Ok, I’m not gonna write in fairy tale this whole time. I’m too lazy. K’jill na. So my little brother in my training host family was the most well known little sucker in the whole town- both by Khmer families and all the trainees. And how could you not know him and love him?
He doesn’t really fit the bill for your typical Cambodian child. Firstly, by appearance. The kid is TOWAT! He’s quite large, you see. He is the biggest kid I’ve ever seen in Cambodia. But boy, is he proud of it. He walks around, fully aware of his recognizability (not a word), like he owns everything and everyone. Actually, Leeny is naked probably about 75% of any given day. And he’s not the only one who’s proud. His family is proud as well, although more secretively. They realize that it isn’t healthy for him to be so big and still growing, but the size of Leeny also shows their comfortable economic status and their ability to buy surplus food. Whenever Leeny walks by, somebody has to pinch him, rub his belly, and note his size. (cultural note: it is totally acceptable here to talk about somebody’s body like they aren’t even there). My family is trying to crack down on a “2 plates of rice per meal rule”, but only half-heartedly. And how can you blame them? My mother told me that she believes that Leeny eats so much because in his past life he died of starvation during the Khmer Rouge Regime. What do you say to that? But yes, he can really shovel food down. My first week or two living there, I was confused at why my family would make me eat first, or why they would give me my own serving dishes. I found out later that it was because Leeny would finish all the food before I had a chance to get full. I told them this was unnecessary, and I just learned to take what I wanted before Leeny cleared the plates. There was one day during Pchum Benh where Leeny ate 8 bowls of rice before noon! I’m not even mad, that’s amazing!
Leeny is as loud as he is big. My training house never had more than 2 chickens at a time, but even worse than roosters squaking in the morning is Leeny squaking! Haha. He’s just a loud kid. He’s got a lot to say, and most of it is very funny, and you are gonna hear it whether you like it or not.
Have you ever seen those sour patch kid commercials where the gummy kid does something cruel, and then makes up for it by being adorable? Leeny is a living breathing sour patch kid. Sometimes I wanna strangle him, and sometimes I wanna pinch his cheeks and tell him I love him. Kinda like a real brother I guess! Leeny didn’t like to give me privacy. If I went to the bathroom, he would follow me, and then stand right up against the door. It’s hard to pee, let alone have infamous Peace Corps diarrhea with that kind of audience. If I shut the door to my bedroom for some privacy or some quiet, he would be at my window peeking inside in less than 5 seconds. But sometimes, I found flowers stuffed through the bars of my window onto my shelf. Just like any little brother, he was a bad listener. He would find that one little thing that irks me, and just wouldn’t stop. He discovered that I don’t enjoy watching him treat the puppy roughly. So that was all the more reason to do it. One time, I went running with my friend, probably about 5 kilometers. Leeny followed us the whole time on his bike, occasionally interrupting us to say something that I wouldn’t understand anyway. It was ridiculous! Toward the end of the run he disappeared and we were like YES WERE FREE! He came back a few seconds later with a stick of gum he bought for each of us. He liked to hide my things too. He was always willing to bring my shoes to me, but sometimes I found him wearing my shoes and bringing them to the wrong side of the house. He liked to unlock my bike and get it ready for me, but I couldn’t always find my key. He liked to pour my water for me for dinner, but sometimes he gave me a tiny shot glass instead of a regular glass.
And don’t you for a second think that I didn’t give it right back to him. Every time I walked by him, I had to side-kick his butt. The kid got a lot of noogies. I made up rules like “you can’t eat more rice until you put pants on” or “you cant play uno because you are mean to the puppy”.
When Leeny and I weren’t bantering- we were dancing. The TV is always on there, and during the day it is on a music television station. We danced and danced all the time. Once in a while I would take out my computer and we would dance to some American music, but we were actually both happier dancing to Korean Pop! How can you say no to Super Junior, 2PM, and Girls Generation? Literally we would just dance in front of the TV the two of us, sometimes with Titi. My mother would go by cooking every once in a while and laugh at us.
In conclusion, Leeny is the most genuine little brother I could have hoped for when coming to Cambodia. I love him to death and I miss him already. I miss the sweetness, I miss the DANCING, I even miss the pranks! He asked me if I would miss him before I left. I looked at him, smiled, and said “no way”. He smiled back and said “I will miss you a lot”. And that was cause for one final love-felt noogie.
Briefly, I will explain about the Pchum Ben holiday. The whole thing takes place over the course of 15 days, but the last few days are the most important. The purpose of the holiday is to feed the spirits of your ancestors. There are wats, or pagodas ALL OVER Cambodia. You will find a wat probably ever 2 or 3 kilometers. During Pchum Ben, every day around 3:30-3:45AM, the monks play music over loudspeakers to wake up the people and tell them it’s time to go to the wat. Then around 4AM, people go to the wat carrying beautifully decorated trays of sticky rice, fruit, flower petals, candles, and a long stick with a paper ghost flying in the wind. Everyone meets together and prays with the monks. Then everyone goes and walks around the pagoda three times, tossing the food from the plate on the floor. This ritual is to feed the spirits who are not directly related to you. The idea is that they are allowed to come from hell once a year to eat, and you want them to be satisfied with their meal, or they will haunt you. Then, there is a second part of Pchum Ben which takes place at normal hours of the day- either breakfast or lunch time. Again, you go to the Pagoda, this time bringing dishes and dishes of rice and other food. You present it to the monks, and the monks eat and pray, while you pray with him. Then the rest of the food is shared with everyone. There is A LOT of food at these things because everyone brings enough food for themselves and more. It’s kind of comical to see 2 or 3 monks sitting in front of probably over 100 bowls of food. The idea behind this ritual is that you are feeding your relatives directly. When you give an offering to the monks, they can give it to the spirits of your ancestors. Many families also pray, offer sacrifices, and burn incense at home too. Khmer people are not expected to do these rituals every day during Pchum Ben- just at least 3 times.
I went once at 4AM to throw rice with my brothers and sisters. Despite the early hour, I kind of enjoyed it. It was exciting. There is a special prayer to say every time you throw a piece of sticky rice, but I could never remember more than the first 4 words, no matter how many times Marady reminded me. I also went once with my mother to give food to the monks. That was particularly crazy because we went to a wat that was kind of far away and I was the only foreigner there. Every woman at the wat took a turn at coming up to me, petting my skin, telling me I was beautiful, telling me my nails were ugly, etc. We sat in the really uncomfortable position for over an hour. And then, when we were done praying, EVERYONE wanted me to try the food that they made. I never ate so much in my life. I did NOT feel well. I also prayed once at home with my family.
Also, just like any American holiday, in the evening you eat good food, and a lot of it. The last three days, I was offered beer or soda instead of my typical water. Most of the meals at night were ridiculously good. (I’m not counting the plate full of pig innards).I thoroughly enjoyed Phum Ben and I’m grateful that I got to celebrate it with my host family.
Unfortunately, on the last day of Pchum Ben I got really sick. It started with just strong aches, fatigue, and nausea. We had a special session called “cooking to cope” (or as we called it “emotional eating”) where we were given a small budget to cook an American meal. We made AMAZING fajitas with all the works- but I left early because I wasn’t feeling well. I slept the rest of the day. That night I got a crazy fever. At one point it reached almost 103. I haven’t had a fever that high since I was a kid. I was freezing (in Cambodia?) and sweating at the same time, my head was pounding, and I was still nauseas. The next day, I did nothing but sleep. I didn’t eat, I didn’t go to class. I told my mother I was sick. She didn’t quite understand because I couldn’t explain well enough in my language. She thought maybe it was because of the half a beer I drank 2 days before… Once she did get it though, she was worried. She kept trying to bring me food, and she offered to coin me (Khmer medicine where they bruise your back with a coin or bottle cap to force the toxins to the skin and out). I declined, mostly just because my skin hurt from the fever. After 2 days the fever was gone, but I was still feeling kinda crappy, especially because I was having bad stomach problems for 3 days straight. It’s a shame that this was all during the goodbyes with our host families and our last week of training in Phnom Penh. In Phnom Penh, I went to see the medical officer. I thought she would test me for dengue or giardia, but she didn’t. She diagnosed me with the flu and sent me off with nothing except “don’t each bread or cheese while you are here”. I can’t say I completely followed her advice… but I was still sick for the next 4 days. But she was right, it fixed itself. The flu sucked though. And this paragraph whining about the flu is a lot longer than I expected it to be. Oh well. Maybe I’m a cry baby.
Picture time.
1. Where we ended up having language class most of the time, in front of my teachers house, because it wasnt as hot as inside her grass classroom. 2. Also near my teachers house- an exploded land mine crater turned pond. 3. Once again, near my teacher's house- these are Khmer graves. I believe ashes go inside them. 4 and 5- During practium week, there was one day we had to stop class early to go wave to the king as he and his envoy drove past. We had flags and cardboard cut-outs of the king. haha, it was a lot of fun. The king saw us, and actually stood up out of the sun roof of his car to wave to us. Sorry I didn't get a picture of the King.
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