Wedding Season

            These last few weeks have been a blur of pastel colors, sequins, icy beer, dirty toes, and pounding ear drums. As many of you already know, there are only 2 seasons in Cambodia. Rainy season, and then wedding season (aka dry season). Smart readers would be able to deduce that now it is indeed wedding season. I have been to 5 weddings already, and it’s still only the first month of wedding season. Most of these weddings, I had absolutely no idea who was getting married. The first 2 or 3 weddings, were friends of my family. Invitations were dropped off at my house. The wedding hosters asked my brother and sister “can she eat Khmer food?” “yes.” “Can she dance?” “yes.” “bring her.” Another wedding I went to was the daughter of someone who works in the market. When I arrived at the wedding, they brought me to the market lady and said “see? You know her!” I had no idea who she was so I kind of stammered for a bit. Then they said “you bought laundry soap from her in the market once!” “…..OH! yeah ok….” (total lie). Why would I remember something like that? Well apparently she remembered me and made sure that I was invited to her daughter’s wedding. The last wedding I went to was the daughter of a teacher at my school, so all the teachers were invited.

            Wedding celebrations begin before sunrise- at about 4:30AM. I couldn’t really tell you what happens then, because I have never been involved in that part of the ceremony. I just know that by 4:30, the giant speakers are set up and are blasting traditional Khmer music to awaken the community and alert them that there is a marriage happening. The female invitees start getting ready sometime after lunch. They go to local beauticians and get their nails, hair, and make-up done. I like getting my nails done here. Khmer people love sparkles and big colorful nail stickers. One of my adult students is a beautician, so she does my nails for free (although even if I were to pay for it, it would only be about 50 cents for a mani pedi).

SIDE STORY:

It was the first time I was going to my student’s beautician shop to get the free mani pedi she promised me in exchange for teaching her English. She set to work on my toes. She scrubbed the old nail polish off, put lotion on my toes, and then started cutting away at my cuticles. All the while, she’s having a very rapid conversation in Khmer with my sister (not all that different from nail salons in America haha). She is really cutting away. Cambodians like nails to be extremely rounded, so she’s trying to make my feet Khmer. Not gonna lie, it kinda hurt. Then she really clipped me bad. My eyes widened, but I didn’t say anything. I just watched the blood gush out. Then she looked down and quickly looked back up at me.

“teacher! Blood!”

“yes- I see that”

“does it hurt?”

“a little”

She wiped away the blood with a rag and continues working. She moved on to my fingernails, but every minute or so, she would wipe the fresh blood from my toe, until her yellow rag was stained all over with my blood. She wiped again. And again. And again.

“teacher, you’re bleeding FOREVER”

“yes- I see that”

She stood up and went over to her counter and came back with a slice of a lemon. She sat down again, held it over my toe, and then paused. She looked up at me and said “teacher, this is going to hurt” and to my horror, she squeezed the lemon juice into the open wound.

Whether it really helped or not, I don’t know. But eventually the bleeding stopped, and all my nails were deemed beautiful.

Now when I go get my nails done, they ladies are MUCH more careful haha. Though they still use that yellow rag with my blood stains all over it…

Aight. So WEDDINGS. Once your nails are done, then you get your hair did. I’ve only let them do my hair once. They just did two simple braids on top of my head. Normally, they do all kinds of big twisty do’s. Many times it’s even bigger than prom hair! Then it’s make-up time. The most important stuff is the white foundation or cover-up or whatever it is. They just cake that stuff on. I tease them all the time and tell them they look like ghosts or Dracula. They make pink circles on their cheeks, paste on long fake eyelashes, and color in the lips. By the end of the process they look like little china dolls. Sometimes when I see my students at weddings, I don’t recognize them right away because they look so different with the make-up. I have not yet let Cambodians do my make-up. But maybe one day I will, just for funsies.

            Then you come home and you change your clothes. Men wear the same thing that they wear every day- slacks and a collared shirt. Women, for the most part, wear their traditional Khmer wedding clothes. They have fancy colorful sampots (long skirts) made of silk. Then their shirts are kind of like more modest versions of corsets- absolutely COVERED in lace and sequins. Some women who are part of the wedding party wear entire dresses like this. Again, it’s just like prom- but on steroids or something. They are all in bright, sparkly colors too. You’ll never see a black dress. Some women do wear “western” dresses to weddings, particularly if it is not a “rich” wedding and they have hopes of dancing big.

            When you arrive at the wedding, you walk into the tent between two lines of people in the wedding party. I can only assume that the bride and groom are in the somewhere, but I’ve never actually known a bride or groom. You “sompaya” at all of them (hold a praying position just under your nose to show respect). They usually give you a little treat, such as a pen or a keychain. Then you are seated at a table, and the food comes.

            Weddings are like a 3 course meal, and it’s usually pretty good food. They have spring rolls and peanuts and roast chicken or duck and fried rice and soup and stir fried shrimp, and more. The food is all placed in the middle of the table and you are free to take whatever you please with your chopsticks.

            During all this feasting is also binge drinking. The beer just never stops flowing. Beer glasses are never allowed to be empty. The only time you ever see empty glasses is when the table has a “bottoms up” competitions. But even then, all the glasses are filled up again in seconds flat.

            Once the feast is over, it’s dancing time. Mostly it’s all traditional Khmer music and traditional dancing. It’s simple footwork and then twisty stuff with your hands, trying to make your fingers look longer than they actually are. Occasionally, they throw in a Khmer Pop Song, and Khmer people dance “disco,” as they call it (a most incorrect term..). Before coming to Cambodia, I thought that dancing exactly like a Charlie Brown cartoon character was not humanly possible. Oh, but it is possible here in the Kingdom of Wonder. It’s so silly. If I’m REALLY lucky they might even play an American popular song.

            At most of these weddings I have been kind of unhappy. It’s just not exactly my cup of tea. I usually do drink a bit. It makes my family and friends so happy when I cheers with them. But I stop before any else does. I also dance. Everyone always wants to dance with me. I can do all the different traditional dances. They’re not exactly FUN though. They are slow and gentle and LOOOOONG. I have had issues with creepy men I don’t know trying to dance all up in my business, but nothing I couldn’t control. I don’t know. I think I would enjoy weddings more if they were so frequent. I had four in one week!

            There were times that I let loose a little and enjoy myself. Mostly I am on my guard, but occasionally, if I am surrounded by people I trust, I will let go and dance and enjoy myself with my friends. I like weddings at those times.

            Mostly it is just the men who binge drink, but one wedding I went to, there were 3 women who were the most un-khmer women I’ve ever met. Women here pride themselves on being sopeap- gentle. These women were not gentle. I think they drank more than my brother! So that was a completely different experience because there was so much pressure for me to keep up with them. They would tell me to finish my glass. I would say NO and they would laugh. The drunker they got, the more in my face they were about it. It wasn’t threatening, more just comical. They were big women (again, so different from the norm). One woman in particular would come over to me, lean over to pick up my glass, thus shoving her giant boobs all up in my face, and ask me to drink drink drink! Dancing with these women was also crazy. It was like pinball, and I was the ball. They literally pushed and tugged me around the dance floor, fighting over who would get to dance in front of me. It was a real… experience.

            My co-teacher had a party at his house on Christmas eve for his students. That was a lot of fun. He had the giant speakers and the dancing tent. I had a great time there. They played lots of American music and upbeat stuff that I could actually dance to. Plus, I knew most of the kids cuz they were my students too! And of course they all knew me. I was a little weirded out that kids as young as 12 were allowed to get drunk. I was also a little uncomfortable dancing with my students to songs with lyrics such as “tonight, give me everything tonight” and “tonight I’m fucking you.” But I supposed they can’t understand it anyway. The only thing they understand is the driving, pounding bass sounds. Anyway, I had a lot of fun at that party. Not exactly a QUIET Christmas party, but fun nonetheless.

            Speaking of Christmas, on Christmas morning, I surprised my family by putting a small Christmas tree in the living room while they were sleeping, and surrounding it with small gifts. When my sister came out of her bedroom I heard her say “ooooooh…. CHRISTMAS CHRISTMAS! HUSBAND, LOOK, CHRISTMAS!” It was very sweet. They also each had a stocking with their name written in glitter filled with candy. I gave my sister a pair of sunglasses, mascara and eyeliner, and a sewing kit. She loved the make up and the sewing kit, but my brother teased her for the glasses, so we’ll see about those. For my brother I had a Khmer-English dictionary, and a strand of battery operated Christmas lights. I gave him Christmas lights because I was at a complete loss of what else to give him. However, it seems to have been extremely successful. He put his Christmas lights all around a bowl of fake fruit in the living room. He turns it on every night. It’s so cute.

            That Christmas moment was wonderful, but the rest of my Christmas was kind of ruined by---- a wedding. NEXT DOOR. I had hopes of spending my Christmas watching movies and relaxing, but instead I had to beautify and primp and try not to lose my mind from the pounding speakers that shook my entire house.

            So, heres to hoping that your Christmas was a little more peaceful than mine. And I wish you a very happy new year as well.

Pctiures:

1. Gurl, check out mah finguhs

2. People dancing under a tent at a wedding

3. from left to right I dunno, my oldest sister, me, and my sister

4. wedding foods

5. My Christmas surprise

6. Stockings!

7. Merry Christmas

How Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

(This is not a joke)

I’ve gained a lot of knowledge and skills in the past nearly 5 months, much of which will be completely useless when I go back to America. However, this knowledge will serve me well for the next 22 months.

One of the most useful skills I’ve obtained is the ability to read a chicken’s mind. Well, not really. But I have figured out how to avoid running over chickens while in transit.

Here’s how it works.

Chickens like to go for walks. Just like you and me, they like to go on adventures and sometimes even get brave enough to leave the compound and cross the street (HAHAHA! … I’ve never understood this joke).

I have come very close to running over chickens countless times. But now I am one with the chickens. I understand them.

When a chicken crosses the street, it only has one thing in mind- the other side of the street. It does not consider distance, and space. Backtracking is almost never an option for a chicken. It must press onward and deliver the punchline to get to the other side. When it sees you coming, it is going to get flustered, lift its wings, and DASH!

So what does this mean for people in transit?

This means, that no matter how far the distance is between the chicken and “the other side”, and how slow the chicken is walking when you first see it, you must go BEHIND the chicken. Don’t try to go in front of the chicken, where there is plenty of road left. The chicken will run right under your tire.

Here’s a diagram.

                       you

                         |    /

                     O—O                                chicken

                                                                 (^)

                                                                (    )

- - - - TRAVEL HERE- - - - - -

______________________________________________________________________________

Don’t forget it.

The last picture is a shot of some goats hangin out with Buddha.

The first 5 shots are of my running route. There's a wide dirt path right through the rice fields that I go running on. When I first got here, I went running almost every day. I haven't been running in a month now.. lol. I'm too busy. and lazy. but mostly too busy.

These pictures are from 2 months ago. The rice fields were still green and long. Now it's harvest season, so the rice fields are muddy and bare. But not for long, I'm sure.

Pictures do not do the rice fields justice. You just have to come seem them yourself.

Sometimes...

Some days I feel like the luckiest person alive to be where I am. I am learning so much, and there are so many people who are so good to me.

Some days I feel so inspired to just dig in and work til I drop. Just let that sweat pour out and see if the world is any different once I'm done.

Other days I just don't want to get up. I wanna crawl under my mosquito net, close my eyes, and when I open them I want to be in my own bed at home.

And still other days, I am just purely existential. I go through the motions, but it's all out of my hands. There's not much of a difference between working to better something and just keeping busy for my own sake.

Sometimes I look at the 22 months ahead of my and I think that's pretty much forever. 22 months in this school in this village with this family.. 

Other times I look at 22 months and I can't believe how fast time is moving. I worry I wont be able to do all the things I hope to do if time continues to move so fast.

Sometimes I have terrible migraines and I think for sure that I'm getting dengue fever.

Sometimes I have diarrhea.

Often I have diarrhea...

Sometimes I watch my students and think about how proud I am of them, and how I can't wait to watch them grow. I dream of their futures for them.

Sometimes I watch my students helplessly, realizing that there is very little I can do to improve their lives in the long run.

Sometimes I leave class upset, knowing that the last two hours was a waste of everyone's lives.

Sometimes I leave class and realize that my cheeks hurt from smiling through the entire lesson.

Sometimes I feel so very close to all the people here, and I feel very loved and full of love for them.

Sometimes my heart literally aches for specific people that I left behind.

Sometimes I love how everyone knows me and is interested in me.

Sometimes I just wanna be invisible.

Sometimes I laugh.

Sometimes I cry.

Sometimes I listen to music that makes me miss home very much. You might confuse me for a HS emo kid.

Sometimes I dance alone in my room in my underwear to Lady Gaga or some good KPop.

Sometimes I feel terrible for not being the best at keeping in touch with people at home.

Sometimes I am upset with people from home for not being able to read my mind and know that I need to talk to them NOW.

Always, I am hot.

Once, I was cold.

But to sum up this blog post (which started out as a personal email, but emerged from there) no matter what combinations of "sometimes'" I am in, I ALWAYS know I made the right choice, and I wouldn't trade this for anything. 

1. One of the holes in my floor

2. A couple of my friends. I can deal with these spiders. Its the ones with the thick bodies I can't handle.

3 and 4. The porch outside my room. The door on the left is my room. On the right is the main family room.

5. A typical meal. Lok Lak- lettuce and other vegetables with beef on top. Duck egg. and fish soup.

6. A closer look at that fish soup.

Hand/Hair- Same Same But Different

WOW! When did I get so busy?? It appears that I have the same problem here as I did when I was home. I love being involved, and I have a hard time saying no or passing up opportunities.

So as I’ve mentioned before, I’m having a grand old time teaching my adult beginner English class. It’s particularly satisfying to me, because I get to give them a taste of their own medicine. I’ve been teased quite a bit because of my American accident trying to speak Khmer. And sometimes, I just speak wrong. And when I do, they really let me have it.

One day I had my photo album out and I was showing my 2 sisters bits of my life in America. I opened up to the page with my two cats- Linus and Lucy. I explained that they were different cats- one was a girl and one was a boy. Ch’maa sryee nung ch’maa bro. Well, apparently, this was hilarious, because there are different words for female and male when it comes to animals. My sisters proceeded to tell everyone in my village that I said girl cat and boy cat. I still haven’t lived that down. Every time we talk about animals now, they always bring up animal genders and tease me by speaking about animals with human language.

I also have issues pronouncing the word for egg and the word for older. So I very often accidentally call my sister “egg sister” instead of “older sister”. And the list goes on.

My oldest sister, the one who lives in the back apartment of the house, is the funniest person to teach English to. She just tries so hard, but makes the funniest mistakes. The first mistake I caught her making was mixing up the word for hand and hair. She pointed to her hair and said “hand!” So I laughed, and put my hand on my head with my fingers pointing up, asking her if my hair was pretty. And I will never let her live that down.

Recently, I taught my students good morning, good afternoon, good evening, and good night. My oldest sister gets these confused all the time. She came home from work at noon, and told me “good night!” She came downstairs after dinner and told me “good morning!” The best part about all of this is her face. She always has a huge smile on, and she is beautiful. She has really kind eyes that smile even more often than her mouth.

Sometimes when I’m eating, she likes to sit next to me and count to a hundred. She can pretty much do this successfully- but when she messes up… she starts over at one again. Haha you can imagine how that could get old fast.

During class, I will be teaching, and she’ll be talking to herself AT LEAST 5 minutes behind in the lesson. Sometimes I have to stop everything just to let her catch up.

The other day I asked her “what is your job?” and she replied “my job is 46”. I said “Oh really, then what is your age?”

She is quite lovable. I just look at her and I smile and giggle.

Now for a completely different topic- carpenter bees.

So I had a carpenter bee friend for about 2 weeks. Every morning I would open my window trying to keep my room under 100 degrees, if possible, and in would fly my carpenter bee. He would head straight to my door leading into the main part of the house and start chomping away. I would come home from teaching a few hours later, and find him in the same place, except at least a centimeter deep in his own hole. I would stick around and wait for him to take a break and go outside. Then I would take that opportunity to cover his hole with a piece of Peace Corps- provided- medical tape. Then the next day he would come back and just start a new hole. I should mention that this guy was pretty big. The kind of bee that makes you really uncomfortable even if it is not interested in you. One day, I finally had it with this bee. I let him dig himself a hole in my wall this time. What he didn’t know was that this time, he was digging his very own grave. Then, when he was in deep enough for me to cover the hole, I slammed a piece of tape over the hole, right over his butt. You could even see the point of his butt stuck to the tape. This was about a month ago. He is still buried under that tape. May he rest in peace. I’m sorry he had to go this way.

Enough anecdotes. Now for the serious stuff. Exactly what have you been doing that has kept you so busy?

I have finally started Khmer language tutoring. I meet with a teacher (who is one of my co-teachers) for 3 hours every week. Right now we are just reviewing everything I learned in training, and occasionally going over some reading and writing stuff. He is unaware of just how much Khmer I know. Anyone who knows me knows how I have a serious thirst to prove myself. So you can imagine how lessons go. I run the show and I ask him questions based on topics I want to know. Sometimes I yell at him for explaining things in English. I can understand Khmer! Let me prove it to you!

I also have the Honor Society that I started. That is also a lot of fun. I always leave there so proud of these brilliant students. It’s so refreshing standing in front of a group of kids who all care about learning English, and are perfectly capable of communicating.

This week I started a library development project. I had been asking consistently for almost 2 months if I could just SEE the library. They kept telling me no because it wasn’t finished or it wasn’t beautiful. Finally I convinced them that I should see the library because I could HELP them with it. So they took me to see it and..

It was even worse than I had imagined. The books were just in a heap on a floor. They were filthy, covered in spiders, and torn. So, perfect timing, the following day was a school clean up day, which means that there was no teaching. Students came to clean the school. So I enlisted about 20 students to help me begin to clean and organize. They came and they were helpful to some extent. We got all the books off the floor at least, and they were almost organized.

So now, whenever I have free time, I go up to the library to continue organizing. This stage is better to do alone, or with a very small number of students. I stole the library key, so I can let myself in when I have free time. There are 2 girls in the grade 10 class who always see me in the library, and they come to hang out with me and help. I love their company. They crack me up. We practice conversing in English while I organize the books, and they straighten the piles and sweep the dirt out of the room. Today I rewarded both of them with a chewy bar.

At this point, we have well over 2,000 books, but they are almost all really old textbooks- and they’re all the same. For example, we have like 300 of the same beaten up geography textbooks from who knows what year. Once I organize everything and take inventory of what we have, I need to figure out what to do with these books. I have ideas, but I need to run them past the school director. Then I will apply to an NGO to have books- real books- donated to our library. I will probably also need to find a way to get funding, because we are going to need shelves for these books.

It’s also testing time. Students in Cambodia have tests every month at the end of the month. I’m one of those sick teachers who actually likes giving tests and grading them. I guess I just like to see whether or not the students learned anything. So I have over a hundred tests to grade and whatnot.

I am happiest when I am busy, so things are going well. 

These are all pictures from my room. Cute, right? The last picture is the hole in my ceiling. You can imagine the sorts of critters who live up there and make all kinds of noise scurrying about at night. 

oh, and check out this video I made:

for a description, to see my other videos, or to post a comment, go to the actual video page: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kra7P6o7NK4