Movement

Yes it has been a year, to the day, since I stepped off the plane in Phnom Penh and touch Cambodian soil for the first time. Yet this is not one of those “Where has time gone?!” one-year-out posts. Sure I think about the passage of time a lot. I go back and re-read journal entries and postcards. But my move from the States to Cambodia pales in comparison to the movement that I have come to recognize in my community. It is this movement, migration or ebb and flow that marks the passage of time as significant.

School is Out! (Sort of…)

During Pre-Service Training (PST) we were introduced to the “informal school calendar.” On paper public schools begin and end on certain dates and have specific holidays. In reality, it is way more confusing and not that straight forward. At least I can’t seem to figure it out. Over the past year, between private (extra) classes and actually school I struggled to nail down my host siblings and host cousins schedules. An example of a common exchange - Me: “Good morning! No school today?” 13-year-old sister Nooan: “Only in the afternoon today. That is if the teacher shows up.” In my community I have it from several sources that school will end on July 30^th and begin again later September/early October.  And yet 8^th grade exams have ended so those kids have for the most part stopped going to school unless they pay for private classes. 12^th grade classes have stopped as well (if you make it to 12^th grade, it usually means that your family has the resources for you to do so and often continue onward - drop out happens much earlier than 12^th) and the majority of those students have gone to the district town (Pouk) or the provincial town (Siem Reap) to prep for the national exam on August 5^th. The results of that exam determine their futures - think if the SAT was the only determinant for college.

Summer break does not change my schedule much. I still spend the mornings in the health center weighing babies and talking with mothers and am out and about in the afternoons. But it has been tricky to figure out times for activities and club meetings. It isn’t that the students are all that busy and they aren’t heading off to camp or on vacation travel. I am confident that soon I will figure out this “informal school calendar.”  

Things have gotten quiet around my house as a result of school coming to a close. Nooan (13) and Parey (18), the two girls who have lived with my host family for the past 7 years or so, whom I call my host sisters though there are not blood related to my host parents, left last Saturday for good. They packed up all their stuff, got in a tuk-tuk, and off they went. Parey stopped in Pouk where she is living for a month in preparation for her exam, while Nooan continued on home to a floating village on the Tonle Sap. Depending on how Parey does on the exams and the schools she gets into, she and Nooan may be in Siem Reap town in the fall; their future is up in the air, but they will not be back to live with my host family. I had been told that this would come to pass, but it seemed to creep up on me and I miss them already. My host brother, Leak (18), is also staying in Pouk for the exams, but I am sure that he will be back and forth.

Leaving School

Kids grow up, graduate from high school, and go to college/university. A trend with which I am sure most who are reading this blog are familiar. My community is pretty well off and thus if a kid makes it to 12^th grade they seem to be going places (as mentioned above). Most of the 12^th graders I know, like Parey and Leak, have left the community to prep for the national exam.  And yet school dropout is common in Cambodia and my community is also not an exception. There are sellers in the market (all but one or two are female) who are younger than me. I have friends and acquaintances who work at their family’s café and who left school 8 years prior and they are not yet voting age (18).

Yesterday, I was talking with my neighbor who lives across the street and owns a storefront café that connects to her bedroom/living room. She is a mother of 3 - boy, girl, boy (the same combination as my own birth order). She is in her late 40s and her husband is a taxi driver and I have seen him around only a handful of times. The woman informed me that her daughter, Kit, was leaving that day to start work. Kit is one of those few people who I have met who has relentless patience and smiles. She is curious and takes the time to explain situations, ask questions that get at complicated issues, and is one of handful of people to whom I feel a true friendship with here. When I asked Kit about her new job, she expressed excitement, nervousness, and pride. A well-paying ($160/month) job in Poipet - the Cambodian-Thai border town about 60Km west - working in a casino with her older cousin. All I could say was to be careful, stay safe, come back to visit, call to update, and that I would miss her. She just finished 9^th grade.

On the way out I asked the mother after her two sons. She said the eldest was working at the local rice mill since finishing 10^th grade and that the youngest would be becoming a monk and living at a wat and studying there for at least the next 2 years (some 15Km away). He just finished 7^th grade. When I asked the mother what grade she had finished, she responded, “I never went to school, because that was during Pol Pot time [the Khmer Rouge].” She added that she was proud of her children. I am too.

Migration

Migration for work - especially in Thailand - is common. The pay is often better, but what is the cost to the community? To the family? Some of the surrounding villages experience a 60-70% population drop at certain times of the year for seasonal work migration. The majority are poor and crossing the border without a passport or work visa - illegally. Some parents go, leaving behind elders to take care of newborns, infants, or young kids. (I cannot tell you how many undernourished kids I have seen because the care taker can’t breastfeed and can’t afford formula…) While others uproot the whole family. From all accounts and from observations, this population returns for important holidays - Pchum Ben in October and Khmer New Year in April. Additionally with the elections less than 2 weeks away, I am told that these migrants will be back to cast their vote. Maybe they are hoping for a future where they won’t have to leave Cambodia for work - whether that is something that can be accomplished by a ballot or not, I am not sure.

My One-Year

And with all this talk of schooling, migration, and sacrifice, my one-year anniversary of being in a country doing volunteer work seems pretty insignificant. That being said, thanks for keeping in touch and supporting me this past year. I look forward to another year of learning from mistakes, making a fool out of myself, innumerable humbling experiences, and reminders that I am one person just trying to make a little bit of a difference.