Freedom

Freedom never smelt...until we cut off my cast. In this country we self-medicate. Need some over-the-counter drugs? No problem. Visit a pharmacy and they will get you what you need. In fact, forget going to a doctor. It's an unnecessary cost. The Pharmacist will probably be able to diagnose you and prescribe you some meds. Need to get your cast off? Ask your dad for help. Don't worry folks, my dad has some experiences with casts. He's made his own plaster casts before.

Three days shy of visiting a doctor to get my cast cut off, my dad pulled out some wire cutters at my prodding (can you blame me? I still had sand in my cast from the beach) and we cut the thing off.

Here are some images of the joyous moment:

Life Here in the Penh

Samedi & friend at Talent Show (she wrote an original song and won!)

Aside from adjusting to living with my parents again and having a 14 year old roommate, the atmosphere in Phnom Penh has changed a lot. There are more high rises than ever, very Western restaurants and cafes (which once inside feels no different from I've stepped back into Seattle), and even movie theaters with English films. Phnom Penh has a lot of expats which means that we can find almost anything at Lucky supermarket and there are a lot of activities going on all the time. Although the large number of foreigners does have its downside. For example a lot of prices are higher and bargaining is a challenge because tourists (and richer expats) don't know any better and are willing to pay the higher price. Even for someone like me who is half Khmer and knows the language, many vendors and taxi drivers often quote me the foreigner price.

Treehouse Bungalows

I have met a lot of really kind people and people with interesting stories. The most reoccurring questions are, "what brings you to Cambodia" and "how long have you been here?" My first month in the country was really slow and relaxing. I spent a lot of time enjoying the cheap delicious food (a good meal averages around $5, including a beverage). I was able to travel to the beach and went to Koh Rong island for the first time (the island is the size of Hong Kong island and many locals don't even know about it). I stayed at Treehouse Bungalows and enjoyed the isolated beach (although the monsoon rains made it difficult to fully enjoy the trip).

I'm volunteering in the afternoon teaching English to 5 students at the Phnom Penh Bible School and in the evenings teaching about 3 hours a week to kids in the neighborhood outreach program at Logos International School which is next door (the school my sisters go to). I started working tutoring two 10th graders and working part time for Asian Hope (my parents organization) writing newsletters and updating the website. Asian Hope has a great ministry and it's made up of an amazing staff. 
So all in all I'm doing great. I did however get into an accident on my bicycle. A motorcycle came too close to me and clipped my handle bar; I lost control of the bike and fell over. We think I tore a ligament in my ankle and was in a cast for three weeks but at least I didn't break any bones! It was a waterproof cast so I event went to the beach with it. When the three weeks were up my dad took some wire cutters and help me cut off my cast. It was a dramatic affair (photos soon to follow). My foot is 98% healed and I'm thankful for everyone's prayers.

My sister Kiri from Seattle comes in less than a week! She'll be visiting for three weeks. I'm starting to feel a little homesick so it will be a joy to see her on this side of the world.   

No Groceries Please

This post is originally from a collaborative blog but since it's under construction (more details to come) and I'm long overdue for a new post I'm going to post what I wrote here as well. 

Dear friend,

I would highly advise you to turn down an offer from a moto taxi driver who is carrying fresh groceries. Within a week I have had two encounters with a taxi driver ferrying fresh vegetation and the other, raw fish.

You may raise your eyebrow at my advice and judge me in your thoughts that I am merely grocery prejudiced. Let me explain my words of advice.

The most important reason why you should turn down a driver who has a plastic bag of tomatoes, string beans and what have you, strapped in the front of his moto is he may in fact not be a taxi driver. It is most likely that he is on his way home to bring home the purchased goods for his mother or wife to prepare dinner and wants to seize an opportunity to make a quick buck.

“Bah!” you say. “What’s is wrong with supporting a man on a moto? Is it his fault that he has fallen into a fortunate disposition?” 

My friend, a man with a moto does not make a taxi driver. Does a girl with a brush make her a hairstylist? A man with Tylenol a pharmacist? Although I have no trouble paying for someone’s honest services, you must consider that he may not know where he is going and may in fact cause you more trouble if you are not familiar with the roads and cost you your time (and his).

Secondly, in my experience moto drivers with fresh groceries tend to be slower on the road. Perhaps this is because he is afraid of his fish flopping out of his front basket if he hits a pot hole.

Yes, it may cause you distress as your nostrils share a motorcylcle with three raw fish on a hot sweltering day, but my final point is not a selfish one. Consider the “taxi” driver’s family. While he has his groceries and is driving you around town, every minute you are on his moto means another minute his family has to go without food. Think of the children.

So next time a moto driver stops and offers to ferry you across the city, check for groceries. If he does have groceries, turn him down politely and say, “No, sir. Your time, olfactory senses and stomach are at stake and for your own good I must turn you down.”

Muddy Streets

One day my mom needed to go to church, back when we lived in a row house near Wat Toul Tompong (a temple) here in Phnom Penh, and my sister decided to go with her. Mom said the road was muddy and she had to strategically find a path and cut across the mine field of puddles and carefully avoid motorcycle and bicycle traffic. She looked behind her and saw my little sister whom at the time was five, behind her. She saw Kiri following her, jumping puddles and walking the muddy streets without a word of complaint. Mom's heart filled with joy and pleasure when she saw her little daughter quietly following her on the muddy road. At that moment she felt God speaking to her through the image of Kiri so willingly following her. Mom described it as a glimpse of what God feels when we we follow him obediently without complaining even though we might get mud on our shoes and feet. I've heard this story before but was too young to understand the imagery. Hearing the simple story again this morning was refreshing. Attitude can completely change an experience. Besides, mud washes off.

Speak, Listen, Sing & Pray

Many conversations this past month have included questions like: How long have you lived here? How long do you plan on staying? What do you do here? How do you know Khmer? Would you like to hang out sometime (a question which I misinterpreted as 'do you generally like to hang out' and replied 'yes' to, but then realized that the young man was actually hitting on me. I awkwardly backed out of that one by running into a chocolate shop.)

But my favorite reoccurring question has been, "What are your dreams?"

I dream of speaking Khmer fluently with a vast vocabulary and holding a long, deep, educated conversation with a Cambodian. I dream of going beyond the, "hello"s and "how are you"s and bargaining talk. I want to be fearless in speaking this language that's digging itself up again. I want to be able to sing a long during church service without mumbling made up words to myself when I don't know the song. I want to hear people's stories and know them. I want to pick up the short stories book sitting on our shelf and read original Khmer literature. I want to be able to respond coherently and be able to speak words of encouragement. I want to pray in this language without struggling with sentence structure and vocabulary. I want to be eloquent enough to share with people about true, solid hope that can only be found in Christ.

This is one of my dreams.  

Beginnings

Airplane.
Flooded rice fields and the murky redish-brown Mekong River covered the landscape as I stared out the airplane window. This was it. I had to decide. How did I feel? I felt anxious and apprehensive and? I was tired of trying to box up my feelings so I just prayed as I watched palm trees and houses pass by. God help me to love this country but more importantly, help me to love people.
I stepped off the aircraft and felt the humidity surround me. This is home.

Sisters.
There are four girls I met in person for the first time last Friday. We share a a living space together, we split chores, we eat meals together. We share my parents. We share a home. I'm still getting used to referring to mom and dad as just "mom and dad" and not "my mom and dad". Rachel, Tirot, Pahnette, and Samedi each have a unique story and I look forward to the days of when home feels incomplete when someone's missing from the dinner table.

Dust.
On books, desks, DVDs, keyboards, the floor, chairs, everywhere. Leave a notebook on a desk for a few days and it's collected a thick film of dust. We mop the house a couple times a week. We wash our feet two or three times a day. It's either a dusty home or a stuffy home. We choose dust.

Dawn.
I am not a morning person. I have jet lag to thank for getting me up to see a few sunrises. I've been enjoying the silent early mornings. I come to the study room next to my and Samedi's bedroom and have some alone time with the fan blowing on me. I read, pray, and check my email. It's also a good time to upload photos because the internet is faster. One of my goals this past spring/summer was to watch a sunrise. $660 later I'm able to cross it off my to-do list.

Rain.
It rains almost every day. Usually not as hard as seen in the video. We welcome the cool air after the rainfall. You can't always tell from the gray clouds whether or not the skies will bless the dusty earth with rainfall. You can feel the wind pick up and smell it in the air just before the first drops fall. Usually I would dread rainfall if I had to cross town on a moto but the other day I sat on the back of a moto taxi and couldn't help feeling the opposite.

Are you excited?

"I know!!! I get asked that all the time!" Hilary said. "How do you answer?" 


"I mostly say, 'yes.'" I replied. "Especially when I don't have time to explain." 


Hilary leaves for Tanzania five hours before my flight for Phnom Penh leaves. She's going through Village Schools International (an organization that is trying to meet the needs of the 752,000 children who will never get a chance to go to secondary school) and will be in Africa teaching English for four months.  


Are you excited?


I told Hilary that it's difficult for me to answer because I'm not really excited. I'm definitely looking forward to moving to Cambodia and beginning a new chapter. But I'm not jumping up and down, screaming in anticipation like for a long-awaited crush I've been longing to see. The thing is, part of me is actually screaming, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHY ARE YOU LEAVING???" This past month has been one of the best times I've had in a long while. My family is reunited, I have a niece who is learning how to speak, my brother and sister-in-law are pregnant with their second child, I had one of the biggest breakthroughs with some of the girls in my youth group, I have met new friends, I have felt so much support and love from my community, and I have just felt full inside and out. Stuffed. But I know that a major factor is that this goodness-saturated month has a lot to do with me leaving and I've been soaking up every moment I can. 


I hesitate on the word excited because the last time I lived in Cambodia it was one of the most difficult seasons of life. I know that if I leave here only anticipating the highs, it will be harder for when there are the lows. I know that I'm called to go and I don't regret going and I am truly looking forward to this new adventure. But I've struggled with letting my anxiety engulf my excitement. I know how difficult it can be. Kind of like a really close friend or significant other where you know all their flaws and shortcomings but you're making a commitment to stick with them. But that's not an attitude I want to have. 


At this point I think my mindset is in the right place. I've decided to let God be in control (phew).  The countdown is just under one week. I'm overwhelmed with all the faces I need to say goodbye to and all the packing I still need to do. It will be an adventure. After all, it's not an adventure if nothing goes wrong.  

The end of Q-203

We met at Northwest as clueless freshman and after graduating, the four of us moved in together into a two bedroom apartment (and slept in kids' bunkbeds from Ikea). Five years later we are all parting ways and entering new seasons. 


This one moved into her new place a month before us cuz she got hitched. She has a pretty sweet voice, has a weird obsession with cheesy Christmas movies, is notorious for being clumsy, and loves breakfast. I present to you Amanda, Amandz, Manda, Manda Manda Bear:

© Ben Blood - All Rights Reserved

This one loves to bake, is crazy good at organizing (puh-lease be my wedding planner?), has a split personality when she is half asleep, loves to go on walks (all the time), and belongs in the 19th century. I present to you Hilary, Hilz, Hil, Aceboonkunz: 

Hilz and Antoine (unofficial 5th roommate)

This one is bilingual, makes you feel like you're one of the cool kids, has a ridiculously large music collection, makes you jealous when she busts a move, and has a welcoming heart (and closet!). I present Teresa, Ter, Tea, Tree, and Pips: 

Our last night together in Q-203, I drug my mattress into Hilz's and Tree's empty bedroom next to their mattresses on the floor. It was bittersweet reminiscing about our first impressions of each other, spur-of-the-moment music videos, road trips, and our failures and accomplishments as friends. We laid in the dark room talking about where God was leading us, how He has called each of us away from Seattle (Teresa to California and Hilary to Tanzania for four months) and our hopes and dreams about our future plans and families.  


Goodbye Q-203. Goodbye my dear friends. You have etched your way into my family tree, dear sisters. Thanks for making the past five years an adventure. I can't wait to be a part of your lives as you start families and follow God's unique plan for each of your lives. 

Upcoming

Looking forward to....

• fruit w/ salt and chili

any fruit that isn't sweet is good with salt & chili...scratch that;
any fruit is good with salt and chili

• learning to read and write more than just "I have a duck."

kngom meehn teeah

• white sand beaches with warm ocean water
• being in the same country as my parents
• traveling and exploring more of Cambodia
• teaching English
• making new friends
• reconnecting with old friends

Not looking forward to...

• the staring, staring and more staring (it's not considered rude to stare at people, especially foreigners)
• turning down beggars (if only there were no limits to giving)
• bartering at the market
• the mosquitoes, giant cockroaches, rats, and other pests
• blackouts
• being far away from Seattle family and friends
• feeling like you have to shower all the time, even after you have just showered (temperature ranges from low 70's to high 90's)
• losing intimacy with close friends (which tends to happen with distance *sigh*)

The deep, dark waters stared at the curious visitor.

There were too many untold stories to share, 

so it remained silent and listened to the wind serenading the girl.

slightly used and bitter

As I pulled into the Albertson's parking lot my eyes were drawn to a lady standing in front of the store with her glasses halfway down her nose and tilting her head so she could see over her glasses. She was African American, had a large build and was holding a couple plastic bags. What drew my attention to this lady was her peculiar no-shame stare. For a moment I thought she was waiting for someone but then she stopped a young man and asked him something. He shook his head and walked away. I figured she must be asking people for money. She was profiling people and not in a subtle way (if I could tell from across the parking lot, she wasn't being subtle). 


I parked my van and dreaded having to pass her because I knew she was profiling me as I walked toward her. Sure, ask the girl in amiable looking church attire. She stopped me. 


"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"I'm going to be honest with you. Can I have some bus money?"
"Uh..."
"Look, I'm going to be honest. I don't have the money. There was a cop on the bus something something bus driver something something cop it's for the bus. I'm being honest with you."


My mind quickly racked up how I should respond. I couldn't use my usual excuse that I didn't have any cash on me because I had specifically taken a stack of quarters to use for change that morning. Then I thought about her circumstance and remembered how I used to take the bus and how horrible it was when I was short on bus fare. 


She waited for my response and gazed at me over her glasses frames. My eyes darted down to her bags and I saw that she had been shopping at the Dollar Tree. 


"Sure," I said. And pulled out some change. 
"It's $2.75," she said as I placed the quarters in her hand. "Thank you." 
"You're welcome." 


After our exchange I entered the store and she came behind me saying something about how it was hot and she needed a drink. It was a warm day, I told myself. And then I saw her head straight for the Tully's inside the store. I tried to dismiss the fact that she probably just scammed me into getting her an iced drink. Maybe she had a gift card...but it was odd that she decided to get a drink right after I had handed her some cash...

---

Salad mix in hand I walked out of Albertson's and saw Glasses Lady walking toward my direction sipping on and iced drink. We passed. I did not look pleased. She said thank you again and I mumbled something that sounded like "you're welcome." I pulled out in my van and saw her now standing behind the wall in front of the enterance, but she was still partially visible. She stopped another kind looking fellow and right then I rolled down my window and yelled, "Don't give her any money! She's lying! She just used my money to buy herself a drink!" 

I didn't actually say anything. I just drove away. 

---

I think in Heaven "I'm being honest with you" would mean, "I'm thirsty, would you mind buying me a nice cold iced drink, Kira? And maybe spare me some change for the bus too?" And I would give Glasses Lady some bus change and buy her a drink. And I would do it out of joy and not feel burdened. 

stuck in my head

An older song, but new to me. 

Journey's End

* Don't watch / read this until you've seen the movie Inception.  
You know how after a long trip and you open the door to your home and everything smells the same, everything feels the same, like you've never really left? Like somehow your journey took place on a different timeline and somehow it only feels like you've been gone for a day? There's that moment when you feel different and you know you'll adjust but things just aren't the same yet. 


I watched Inception for the second time recently. At the very end, right after the climax, when Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio's character) awakens on the airplane, there's a moment when Cobb looks around and has to adjust to reality. DiCaprio did a spectacular job at capturing what that moment feels like. Unlike Cobb, I don't jump in and out of people's subconscious for years and years but when I saw that scene again I was drawn into DiCaprio's acting and could relate to that feeling. 

I immediately associated it to reverse culture shock.  It's like carrying around an invisible pack. Sometimes the transition is smooth and sometimes it's rough and emotionally taxing but it's something only you experience. Others can sympathize but no one else can fully relate to the experience you had. Even fellow travelers must part ways and cannot continue to share a past experience in the same way. You must readjust to your own life and the period of transition spurns introspection that is intimate and unique to only you. Eventually the readjustment happens and there is no more transition and no more pack to speak of.

Anyway, watch 0:00 to 1:10 (a less choppier version here). 

Finally.

I am moving to Cambodia. I am moving to Cambodia. 


The story begins a long time ago, but for time's sake (and to save you from boredom) I'll start in college. Back in college before I even knew what occupation I wanted to pursue, I knew that I was going to live overseas. My first year in college, a representative from the JET Program (Japan Exchange Teaching Program) visited my British Literature class and shared a short presentation about teaching English in Japan. It was a rather short presentation and simple. But something stirred within me that afternoon. What a novel idea! Teach the English language abroad. Overseas. I could do that. I would enjoy that. Shortly thereafter I changed my concentration to TESL (Teaching English as a Second Language) and changed the direction of my college career. And loved it.


Throughout my college years I talked about going to Japan and South Korea but I was open to any country. Cambodia was not on my mind at the time (I could not see myself living there long-term. No, sir. Maybe I'll elaborate in another post). In 2008 I traveled with one of my best friends (Katrina) and her sister (Cassandra) to Singapore, Nepal, and Cambodia. Of the many important things I learned and realized on this trip two important realizations were: I wanted to work in a third world country and it would most likely be in Asia.


Since graduating in 2009 I have been waiting for God to open doors for me to begin this new season of life. In 2010 I traveled to China for two weeks and helped run an English teacher's workshop (going on this trip was a miracle in itself!). For a while I was convinced that I was going to be living in China but the burden to go to Cambodia was softly pressing on my heart. After many months of praying and waiting on God's timing my heart was fully set on Cambodia. I've been waiting a long time for this. Friends, the door has opened. I am moving to Cambodia!


There are a lot of different opportunities available and as I count down the days, hopefully I'll have a clearer picture of what my days will look like in Phnom Penh. I do know this: I need to learn the language (I can speak but I'm illiterate) and I'll start with a paying job either full time or part time in a school. I also want to volunteer directly through a church or an NGO. I'll be living with my parents (yay for free room and board!) for the first few months as I adjust, settle, and begin this new season of life. Oh and I get to meet my new sisters in person, finally! :) 

(L to R: Tirot, Pahnette, Makaria, Rachel, Samedi, Vanny, and Jeff)

My Other Blog

"To the complaint, 'There are no people in these photographs,' I respond, 'There are always two people: the photographer and the viewer."

Ansel Adams (1902 - 1984)

I began this blog (snaps) as a source of motivation to take more photos. Enjoy.

Someday.

Ever since God has invited me to live overseas, my heart has been pumping wanderlust through my veins. Consequently I am impatient with my current circumstances. 


I don't know when, I don't know where, I don't know how but somehow, somewhere, somtime I will be moving out of America. 
(originally written August 3, 2010)

Letters

When I was 17 and living in Phnom Penh, Cambodia our family decided to save money by not getting internet at our house. I had to walk two blocks to the internet cafe and pay 2,000 riel (50 cents) an hour to sit at a computer and check my e-mail. I hoped for one of the computers in the front because the computers in the back were ...so . . . . . s l o w.  It felt so disappointing to open up my e-mail and only get two or three short responses especially after I had taken time to write out a decent letter. And then after taking time to reply, the conversation would usually stop after two or three exchanges. I'm sure you can imagine my bruised, teenage heart if I got the double whammy: slow-as-a-snail computer in the back and no emails. I craved interaction with my friends and family on the other side of the world. I couldn't understand why people with internet conveniently in their homes couldn't spend time to write me back. 


Convenience sometimes makes us take things for granted. I take technology for granted. I forget how spoiled I am. When I have down-time at work I check my facebook. I read some blogs. Check my facebook again. Maybe comment on someone's picture or their status. Check my e-mail. And then check facebook again. I fear that the convenience of omnipresent internet has dulled my appreciation for deeper interaction that is possible through this incredible technology we have access to. It takes time to build deeper relationships and it takes effort on our end that may not be reciprocated. I want to take advantage of convenience. No more of this taking-for-granted business.