PARTAY for the ANCESTORS & WATER WATER EVERYWHERE

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?