All Quiet on the Southeastern Front (or not)

Over a month ago I was plopped down in the middle of Siem Reap province and told to get to know my community. So what does that really mean?? Well a lot of unexpected things. Taking people up on offers to visit their homes, walking around and just chatting, and saying sure to invitations to events I have not the slightest idea what they will entail. Getting to know a community is about doing, participating, observing, and asking a lot of questions. As I look back on the past 5 weeks I can see progress and also a long long way to go. 

At the health center things are starting to pick up for me. I have attended a staff meeting, a village health volunteer workshop, and a meeting at the operational district (OD) health office. Since I have observed (and my observation have been confirmed by reports from the OD's office) that antenatal care and birth control services are being utilize effectively due in part to financial incentives and good staff counseling, I have started to turn my attention more to new mothers. I make sure that they weigh their children and then look at the child's growth chart with them and talk a bit about nutrition. It has been nice to establish my niche in the health center with this type of work. I am hoping to get some videos about various health topics to show in the waiting room and to bring coloring book pages about the body and healthy behaviors and start coloring with the children who come in. 

In the ANC room 

Our Country Director, Penny, came to do a site visit last week and snapped this shot of me explaining the antenatal care books that all the pregnant women are given to Cynthia, the Director of the Office of Innovation in Washington, DC. It was nice to show them around my health center with  the newly renovated delivery and post-delivery rooms and to spend time with them at my house.

Me and Penny outside of my house

I spent last weekend in Siem Reap proper with the other 7 PCVs in the province, celebrating our first month at site - eating ice cream and pizza and swapping stories. It was nice to explore the city and to hang out. When I got back I found my house was full. My host father had returned, my host sister is home for the month and now I have two adopted sisters who live with my family during the school year so that they can go to school - they are from one of the floating villages in the Tonle Sap. There is a new energy and enthusiasm that runs through the house. In my free time I draw, color, sing, dance, learn the Khmer alphabet (with all 23 vowels, 32 consonants, and don't forget the 11 independent vowels and consonant subscripts!), and hang out with my sisters. It has been exhausting but in the best possible way. 

Unfortunately there is no fall foliage here. Instead, October in Cambodia is marked by the start of the school year and one of bigger holidays, Pchum Ben (* see the page on the right for an explanation from one of the Peace Corps staff members).  In essence it is a 15-day festival for the ancestors and I have the last 5 days off from work at the health center. For different people Pchum Ben is celebrated differently. For me it has meant 3 dinners at the Wat and 3 Wat ceremonies at 4:30 in the morning. Here is a picture of the children in my extended family with the offering plates for our trip to the Wat (across the street) in the morning. 

Ready to go to the Wat in a few hours!

There was a lot of confusion the first time that I was invited by a friend to go to the morning ceremony. She kept saying tonight ("yoop neh") which I assumed was 4PM, however if the sun hasn't risen, it is still considered night. Needless to say I missed the first ceremony (I showed up at her house 12 hours late!). For the morning (or rather pre-dawn or drag-me-out-of-bed) ceremonies you have to sit with your feet positioned behind you or in a flat-footed squat which is supposedly a cinch for Khmer people. While everyone from old women to infants look like they could stay in these positions comfortably for hours, after five minutes my legs are asleep or tingling and I am praying to the dead ancestors and the monks in front of us to end the pain. (A little over-dramatic, but when I can't understand what they monks are chanting anyway, I like to add my own dialogue.) After a half hour or so, the over 200 people (mostly kids) get up and we walk barefoot in circles around the temple throwing money, sweets, and balls of sticky rice into wicker baskets for the ancestors. There are a few youngsters wearing giant headlamps who crouch over the baskets and intercept the sweets as they are thrown in. No one tells them not to, but I think maybe the ancestors aren't too happy with them. Or maybe it is just me... 

Other moments of note from the past month: 

- wearing bright yellow Angry Bird pajamas to the Wat for one of the morning ceremonies

- playing hand-badminton with the neighborhood kids - picture a birdie, no net, no rackets, and hours of entertainment

- seeing a full double-rainbow before getting caught in a downpour biking home from a spaghetti lunch and visit at a fellow PCVs house (22K away)

- talking with my host grandfather about the history of the community - "are there landmines here?"

- having a tour of the edible plants around my house conducted by my cousins 

- more play-dates with my little friends

- eating rice with BBQed crickets

- Khmer dance parties

Both rain and sunshine are needed to make a rainbow.

One of nature's little reminders that there is so much to be thankful for when the going gets tough. 

Singing in the Monsoon

Two weeks have passed at site and my new home. It is raining a lot, but we don't have the flooding here that they are experiencing farther north. Each day I am reminded that it rains because the pile of laundry that I have to do gets bigger and bigger because I have have the excuse that it just won't dry. "Maybe tomorrow" is my motto for now. 

Living with a different host family had been a bit of an adjustment, but we are starting to get one another. I live with a host mom and dad. Their kids are away studying in Phnom Penh and the dad is traveling a lot because he is a soldier. So basically it is a lot of alone time when I am at home which has been good for studying Khmer on my own - although I have a tutor now and he is wonderful! I live in a block of three houses that includes the extended family and each day I piece together another part of the family tree. My host mom teaches 5th grade but school doesn't start until October so she sells frogs and snakes in the mornings and has private lessons in the afternoons. (I have yet to try barbecued snake, but I can tell you that frog on a stick is not too shabby...) 

I work at the health center Monday through Friday in the mornings and spend the afternoons networking around town. At the health center I talk to some patients, especially the pregnant women in for their check-ups, and do a lot of observing to get a better sense of how the health center operates. Observing is an ongoing process. Last week I spent three days attending birth control distribution workshops for village health volunteers (VHVs) at three different health centers in the district. My brain felt fried by the end because it was entirely in Khmer, but the presenters were absolutely wonderful and by the end of it I was understanding a good portion. Here is a picture from one of the workshops. 

In my free time, these are some of the things I have done thus far: 

- gone on exploration runs and bike rides

- chatted up too many people in the community to count (remembering all the names is a struggle!) 

- "dao layng"(ed) in the market (in essence strolling without purpose) 

- visited a fellow volunteer in her district town (35K round-trip bike)  

- been visited by a fellow volunteer (48K round-trip bike)

- taught an English class to eleven high school girls

- had three play-dates with the neighborhood kids in the local Wat

Let me explain the last one in more detail. My best friend in my town is a girl who claims that she is eleven years old. I say "claims" because most Cambodians will say that you are one year old on the day you were born and when asked when their birthday is many will say that they don't remember. Plus this girl is tiny and looks like she might be pushing nine - at 5'7" I am constantly told that I am very tall and my friend comes up to my hip bone. I met her the second day I was here when I was having a rough day and she sat with me and held my hand and invited me to her home. She lives behind the Wat (pagoda) in a house that is in the middle of a major renovation. So logically we play games in the Wat complex. (Yes, I have asked everyone and their grandmother or "yeay" if this is culturally acceptable and everyone has given me the okay. Yet it still surprises me that the rough-housing and running is okay...) We play variations of Tag, Red-Light-Green-Light, Heads-Up-7-Up, and Simon Says. Good thing I am a quick learner because the group of kids are pretty bad at explaining the games in simple enough Khmer for me to understand. Decisions for who is IT are made exclusively by a quick round-robin-loser-moves-on variation on Rock-Paper-Scissors. I can't seem to tell if it is a democratic process or just based on pure dumb luck - I like to think it is a combination. Here is a picture of the kids and another of me with a bunch of them. 

Aren't they beautiful?! I tell them that everyday, but they say "no, white skin is better." Then I proceed to explain that in America many people will sit in the sun for hours in order to get tan or darker skin. This is met with confusion in a place where you get out of the sun and where soap without bleach in it is difficult to find. I hope to someday be able to show them how truly beautiful people they are inside and out. 

Ready, Set... Siem Reap!

After saying "good-bye" to my training host family on Wednesday morning- well actually "see you in November," because we are having 2 weeks of training then and will be staying with our same families - we traveled to Takeo via tuk-tuk to get some last minute training and await site placement and swearing in. On Thursday, we walked into a large conference room that had a map of Cambodia ducktaped to the floor with the provinces outlined and X's to show the spots where each PCT would be going. After a long build-up it was announced that I will be in Siem Reap Province! This is a large province well-known for Angkor Wat (or as some of the K5 PCVs say "Wat Disney"). Siem Reap has an airport (hint: come visit!) and there is a half-marathon being held there in December. I will be a good bike ride away from the provincial and district towns, so away from the real touristy areas, and will be working in a health center that serves more than 18,000 people. I am really looking forward to meeting my new host family with whom I will be living for the next 2 years.

Even though we received our site placements, we did not officially become Volunteers until yesterday afternoon. Our swear-in was a beautiful ceremony that consisted of the Khmer and American National Anthems, speeches from our country director, Takeo's governor, and 2 fellow K6s, and an unbelievable amount of photos. Here is one of me:

wearing tradition Khmer attire

So here's to another chapter of this adventure! Rooich howee knom dtao. (And here I go.)

Weekend Excursions

Most people if they know one thing about Cambodia they typically know about the Khmer Rouge (pronounced K’mai Rouge). I encourage anyone interested to explore the events that led to the 1975-79 genocide and the reconstruction of the education and health systems after nearly 3 million Khmer people were killed in the name of a completely agrarian society. I do not pretend to be an expert on Cambodia, Cambodian history or the Pol Pot regime in particular. That being said, let me tell you about my personal encounters with the aftermath of Khmer Rouge while living in Cambodia some 33 years later.

Since arriving in Cambodia I have been wary of bringing up the past, however I have found that the people with whom I have interacted with thus far have been willing to talk openly about the late ‘70s and often bring it up first. My host family is made up of 4 generations and each has a different perspective on “Pol Pot time.” They left Phnom Penh during the forced evacuation in 1975. Their home is only a 45-minute bike ride from the nearest marked killing field. Two weekends ago I took a trip to the killing field in Krang Tacham. The site was exhumed, restored and made into a memorial site with a small pagoda and spirit houses in 2010 - a project spearheaded by the youth in the surrounding community who asked their parents and grandparents to share stories from the time. A library, resource room, and painted murals help piece together a collective memory bank for this particular site. Very little is translated into English; a good reminder that this was (and still is) a Cambodian memorial. A way for the Khmer people, and particularly that community, to never forget and to continue forward together. 

One of my friend’s host brothers accompanied us on the trip to this regional killing field (he said that nearly 150,000 people perished there), and expressed how most people still don’t understand what the regime stood for and what it was doing. He brought up the uniqueness of Cambodia’s genocide - Khmer people of the same race, ethnicity, religion, education and socioeconomic levels indiscriminately being killed by their own. “It was a time when it was hard to live and easy to die.” 

The site almost seamlessly blurs into the rice paddies beyond in where cows roam nonchalantly, except for rope and fences that mark the exhumed pits. In the middle stands a giant white monument where offerings have been placed in front of the glass panels that encase the countless skulls and bones of all the people who met their end in this place. Walking around is indescribable - knowing that I will be forever incapable of understanding or imagining the horrors of this place’s history. And yet, the hope and ability to continue on with a smile is something I see every day spanning the generations. It is a constant reminder that “the sun still rises if the rooster doesn’t crow and it’s a chance to live another day.”

This past weekend - after passing my practice Language Proficiency Interview (LPI), yay! - all 57 PCTs took a trip to Kep, a small province in the southwest up against the Gulf of Thailand. We spent the day eating anything BUT rice and swimming in the Gulf. There is a great brunch buffet and pizza place near the water and an open-air market where I tried squid on a stick and watched crabs pulled right out of the water and served fresh. I had a little incident with monkeys stealing fried bananas out of my hands as we were exploring the shoreline - no harm except that I lost my tasty snack. 

I came home tried but content with my glowing tan (well maybe more “sun-kissed” skin) and spent the evening chatting with my host mom, older sister, and aunt who lives next door. It was a cooler evening and we sat on the front yard/cement patio listening to the wind. Looking up at the moon (lo-khae) my aunt asked if we had the moon in America. I responded that we did and that when I look up at the moon I think of my family and friends in the States and how only a few hours later they will be looking at the same moon. My host mom chimed in that my parents must miss me very much and that she would too when I left for a new host family in less than 2 weeks. I told her to look up the moon and think of me because I would be doing the same and thinking of her where-ever in Cambodia I will be very soon. 

Gone with the Monsoon

August 1^st was supposed to mark the beginning of the rainy season, however, it wasn’t until about 4 days ago that the rains really started. I am officially doing reverse triathlon most day now; running in the mornings, biking to language class or technical sessions, and then swimming in my sweat (and the rain storms) all afternoon. Whenever there is a lapse in conversation with my host family (or really anyone) I just say “Kampuchea k’dao nas!” - which means “Cambodia is very hot!” - and then we talk about how we need rain and so does the rice (*see previous post to understand the importance of rice here). When it doesn’t rain the signs are everywhere: empty cisterns, dry fields for those not fortunate enough to have the means to irrigate, dusty roads, etc.

In other news, training is winding down, which means that a lot is being packed in to the last couple of weeks. This week is our “practicum,” so we are working in small groups with high school students to do a health outreach activity in the community. My group will be spending a day doing a trash pick-up and sorting demo while talking with local store owners and market sellers to spread the word about how to reduce, reuse, and recycle and why it is important. We came up with the topic of trash through a community needs assessment. In addition to the health center visits, focused group discussions, and household surveys that we have been doing, this community activity with the high schoolers should be a good way of connecting what we have been talking about in technical sessions all along.

No expectations going into the last weeks of training, and especially none in terms of my site placement. So much is up in the air that the best thing I can do is adapt to what is given me. If it starts to downpour I wait out the storm working on my Rubiks Cube as my family looks on. Or if I have a “jok poo-awh” (stomach ache) I take an hour nap in a hammock. It’s all about working with what you have. 

I will post again soon about my trip to an old Khmer Rouge killing field and other observations. 

One month for the history books!

The self-crafted calendar posted on the wall above my desk tells me that a month has passed since this adventure began. So what have I been up to? I am beginning to get a grasp of it myself. I will try my best to sum up what I have been doing and the incredible people I am meeting and engaging with along the way.

Back in the States, I felt like the token Peace Corps girl amongst friends and family. Here - at least when I am with the other PCTs - that identity is stripped away and I have the chance to define myself in different and multiple ways.  And yet at the same time, by all going through and experiencing the ups and downs together, the Peace Corps identity remains intact while still allowing us each to find a niche in the work we will ultimately be doing. I really enjoy the group we have. Being a big group in a medium-sized town, we often (and by often, I mean always)stand out. We end up taking restaurants by storm and overwhelming the local smoothie, fruit stands, and the only place in town with AC, the gas station by the name of Tela. “Meet up at the Tela for ice cream?” is a common question amongst the group. One of the only places in town where you can kind of get swallowed up is the market. It is open-air and despite numerous trips, navigating the place can still be a challenge. I hope to post some pictures later of the array of fruits and veggies of which I could only identify a few when I first got here. Now sraw-gaa-niek (dragonfruit) and sao-mao  (have no idea the English name) are my go-to snacks. Oh and don’t forget the fresh chilled doungs (coconuts) that I have every day. I will buy one with a straw and quickly finish the juice and ask the seller if she will take a machete to it so that I can eat the fleshy interior with the spoon that I now carry around with me in my backpack specifically for this purpose. The word for eat here is nam, as in nom nom…

Speaking of eating, a common greeting is “have you eaten rice already?” Why you might ask. All day everyday I eat rice. And so does most everyone else. Even the animals. At my house, the dogs get the leftovers (they must love me, because I never eat it all...) and the 4 pigs we have get a rice-water-corn mixture of some sort. Definitely not your Middle Ground leftovers that is for sure. The cows hang out in the rice paddies and thus eat it too. And anything can really go on the rice too - omelets, curry, veggies, meat, fish, ants and wasps. You name it, rice can take it.

In regards to training, the majority of this phase of service is about integrating, adjusting and exploring. Food and marketplaces are a great way to do cultural learning. For example, the other day I was asked to sit down with a family of four at a restaurant and was able to practice my limited Khmer and tell them about myself and ask after their health and family. My host family is also extremely helpful and patient as I struggle to tell them that I will go for a short run or won’t be home for lunch. As part of a specific training exercise, I and a few others facilitated a discussion (through translators) about water and sanitation (WASH) practices in a rural village 20Km from where we are living. Even just knowing a little Khmer and asking questions and expressing genuine interest in the community, I was able to connect with the women we met with even if only on a basic level. The experience got me excited  for when we are placed in a community and get to interact like that every day talking about health issues. It’s all about the relationship building and it is my jam. So is hiking in Kirivong (about 2 hours south of Takeo, right on the Vietnam border) and seeing Vietnam and the ocean all at once. That was our group’s weekend trip and it was beautiful and breezy. Although I can handle the heat and laying doing in the middle of the day under my mosquito net and drench my sheets in sweat despite not moving an inch, I do miss a good breeze, rolling hills, and stunning vistas from elevation. Anyway, I will post pictures from that excursions and others when my internet connection is better. 

Just Keep Biking...

Picture this: sitting in a sarong after a cold bucket shower listening to the geckos and beetles prey on mosquitoes and the flies run into the ceiling from the comfortable confines of your mosquito net... This is my life in Cambodia. Since arriving at my training host family’s home last Sunday, this is exactly how I spend my nights after dinner and following about an hour of extra-help language class with my younger sister. I go to bed between 9 and 10 and wake up to the dogs barking between 5 and 6. And then the day begins with 4 hours each of technical training and language training. This schedule means that the days are long, but the weeks fly by. Today marked the end of my 2^nd week since I met the other PCTs in DC for staging.

My host family is absolutely wonderful! I have a dad, mom, grandmother, and two sister (older and younger). My house is quite big with an open-air downstairs equipped with 3 hammocks, and upstairs bedrooms. My parents are farmers and my older sister teaches high school Khmer. We have 2 cows, 3 dogs, 4 pigs, and more chickens (here they have few feathers to speak of) than I can count. For the first few days I thought that I had a younger brother too, but it turns out that he is just a neighborhood kid that comes over all the time and likes to record me singing American pop songs with my sister on his phone without me knowing. Embarrassing…


I live about a 3 mile bike ride from the center of town - one of the, if not THE farthest CHE trainee houses. Definitely good exercise… Here is my beautiful mountain bike that helps with the dirt roads and washed out paths (because of the monsoon rains) between the rice paddies that I have to navigate on my way to language class at my Language and Cross-Culture Facilitator's (LCF) home everyday. 

Motor-bikes, taxis, and tuk-tuks got nothin' on me!

My Khmer is… coming along. The structure is not too bad (i.e. there are no verb conjugations!), but pronunciation has been hard to pick out thus far. Hopefully with time I will start to pick up more and more. My sister says that I am doing well, I say that I am trying…   

Until next time! Joom reap leah!
(I will post pictures later.)