October in Cambodia feels like an ongoing festival. Every
week something seems to be celebrated. The last 3 days of the 15-day long
Pchum Ben holiday kicked off the month
(3
rd, 4
th, and 5
th), the Commemoration Day of
the King Father, Norodom Sihanouk
who passed away last year (15
th),
the Paris Peace Accords Day (23
rd), and then King Norodom Sihamoni’s
Coronation Day (29
th). Schools across the country attempted to
reopen at the begin of the month despite the cluster of holidays, widespread
flooding issues, and not having the results of the 9
th grade
national exams (taken late due to political protests, thus pushing back the
release of the results which determine whether students repeat 9
th
or pass on to 10
th and officially high schoolers). Combine all of
those factors and what do you get? A changing school schedule (a real moving
target) and general confusion on the part of teachers, students, parents, etc.
awt
dung pong, pontie awt tai tay! (in essence: “I have absolutely no idea, but
it’s okay.”) So how did the school’s (delayed) reopening affect me as a health
volunteer? Well first of all, I have found time and time again that health
messaging can be very effective on youth when presented in an engaging way.
Making health education and key points sticky is crucial and from my experience
youth often eat it up (like sticky rice!)! As a result I have found going into
the schools and talking with students in a formal and informal way very
productive. I like to think of myself as an idea farmer (thanks to my
incredible program manager, An Thy, for giving me this analogy) - I spread and
plant ideas and where and when they take root, I continue to water and care for
them. Students often engage with those ideas and allow them to take root or
spread them further. So I try to triangulate and get a better understanding of
the school schedule for myself, so that I can start up the girls’ club again*
and tutoring with the ever-increasing busy,
loak gkruu Sean, and to help my site-mate, Emily. So much of
life in my community revolves around the school, farming, migration, and
holidays. Anyway, I am confident that school will kick into high gear this
coming week… maybe.
As I reflect back on the past year, I can recognize how far
I have come. An easy measure of that was my experience with
Pchum Ben this year versus last. I was
down and out with a bad head-cold for the final days of
Boh Bai Ben - the days
leading up to the end of
Pchum Ben -
and so I opted out of the
4am wake ups to throw balls of sticky rice into
baskets around the wat to feed the ancestors after listening to monks chant
while your legs are falling asleep curled underneath you.* It poured almost the
entirety of the first week of October, so my host cousins and siblings opted
out for all but one of the early mornings. While I missed the opportunity to
compare that experience to last year, the large extended family meal to mark
the end of
Pchum Ben and the final
morning ceremony at the wat felt like déjà vu, besides my reaction to them. I
would like to think significantly less awkward. I knew what I was getting into
(at least in vague conception) and I felt more comfortable to engage with
others thanks to improved language, knowing more community members, and a
stronger bond with my host family. So strolled over to the wat with my sister,
Ong, and neighbor, Haseka, carrying the 4-tiered silver canister holding
different food dishes and a substantial amount of rice (I say substantial
because the amount could feed me for 2 days but to which the average Khmer
teenager would devour in a meal…), and some Riel (Khmer currency) for the monk
offerings. This is the community (including extended family members visiting
and those back from working in Thailand) lined up waiting for the monks to pass
and
daak baat into their offering bowls. The orange or maroon robe clad
monks are followed by the
yeays
(“wat grannies”) all in white.
As you can see everyone tries to dress to
impress traditionally in white tops and sampots or skirts for women and
khakis or dark pants for men. While I pull out the same outfit for every
similar occasion other wear elaborately embroidered and bedazzled light colored
tops which are the norm for weddings.
Back at the house families gather together for communal
meals, a significantly less awkward affair this year which may have been due to
the fact that this year I was lucky enough to sit at the kid’s “table” (on the
plastic rice mat, legs bent behind) and giggle the whole time. I was definitely
more courageous with my food selection as well.
An extra treat this year was a trip with my aunt (Ee Roth),
uncle (Boo), sister (Ong), cousin (Srey Ny), and a group of 4 teenage boys who
work and live at the car/moto wash that my aunt and uncle own. We went to the
Cambodian Cultural Village in Siem Reap - a “learn about the people of
Cambodia” cultural center with a distinctly Walt Disney feel to it. A very
unique experience to do seemingly touristy activities with members of my host
family.
As I mentioned before, flooding has wrecked havoc across the
country and the casualties have been high and 2013 is being called the worst
flood year in Cambodia’s history. The monsoon season started to slow down post-Pchum Ben and the water has begun to
recede a bit, but not before I had the chance to travel with staff from the
Operational District (OD) Health Office to a “floating” health center that
serves 2 “floating villages” that had been under my health center’s service
area until just before I arrived at site. The health center in Treeay is small
and thus is still supported by my health center, currently an hour plus
motorboat ride and 6km moto ride on a beat-up dirt road away. Talk about access
to care issues. I went on this excursion with 5 OD staff and my HC director,
Boo Phally. All men and the foreign woman. It was a fascinating adventure -
water water as far as the eye could see but which dissipates significantly
during dry season - and I was impressed by the OD staffs interactions with the
HC staff, providing coaching, refresher training, etc. I got to meet my host
sister’s aunt and cousins who live in the floating village, have a meal of fish
and eel caught then and there and morning glory gathered by one of the OD staff
during a quick swim, circle the floating wat in the village, and see 8-9
different varieties of birds living in mud nests in the watery expanse. The
whole day was a reminder of how much of my community and the surrounding area
there is still to get to know. Forever learning and exploring.
I love water. I can count the number of times that I have
swam in the past year on one hand. That all changed this past month as I
started taking kids up on their invitations to swim in the stream that flows
N-S through my community and the rice paddies. From a hygiene and sanitation
stand-point… well let’s just say that I bucket shower with vigor post swim. K7
Joel came to visit a couple weekends ago to eat homemade pizza (sans cheese)
and engage in a spontaneous playtime with the entire neighborhood it seemed.
Emily, Joel, and I played on the new elementary school playground , organized relay races, and
cooled off with a swim in an area shallow enough for the little ones to be able
to stand (many Khmer children do not know how to swim, attempting to teach swim
lessons J)
and yet still be launched from our shoulders, backs, thighs, etc. to belly flop
or cannonball into the water. I definitely got an upper-body workout from
throwing some 25 different kids over and over. (Reminded me of my swim lessons
with my brothers and Dad growing up.) I foresee many more such play-dates in
the future.
Bon Oam Touk or Water Festival (cancelled for the 3
rd
year running in PP, but allowed on the village level) is known for long boat
races. Lucky for me I got to experience this early, when Emily and I went to
visit a fellow PCV, Jeff, about 60km NW of us on a recent day off
(Commemorating the late King Father). The trip was smoother than I could have
ever planned with a seamless transfer from taxi to pick-up truck at the
district town of Kralanh. At Jeff’s site, we walked around meeting his
community and ran into the previous PCV, Blair’s
Camp GLOW counterpart, a
spunky academic named Sochea who will be away from her family for the next year
to pursue more education to improve her teaching and pay grade level in PP.
Super inspiring! Wandering around we got to climb into the bell-tower of an
ancient wat and stumbled upon a super competitive long boat race in a channel
amongst the rice paddies. The young boys - with Olympic rowing potential! -
allowed us to join in as dead weight at first before realized we could be put
to use and paddle, although our boat still only ended up winning half of the
races. After lunch of fish and lotus stem soup (
somlah m’chew) with
Jeff’s host family and sticky rice and smoothies at a roadside stand Emily and
I made the return trip.
I think one thing that is significantly different in my
approach to this year versus last year, is my willingness or eagerness to
engage playfully with those around me. I am comfortable niyeay layng -ing
or “joking” and playing with the language, but more importantly I am not taking
myself so seriously, going with the flow, and spending time smiling and
laughing. I am vulnerable. Undoubtedly. But this year I have chosen to recognize
and own my vulnerability instead of hiding behind it. Mistakes and
miscommunications are a part of the process of life, so why not learn through
playing the game?
