My older brother has a yappy little dachshund named Mary Jane. Recently my niece Celia had this exchange with her mom.
“Mom, I am going to eat Mary Jane ’cause she won’t leave me alone so I can eat my peanut butter and jelly sandwich!!!”
“Uhh, Celia you can’t eat dogs, its not right.”
“Uh huh, I will grow up and be a chef and make chicken dog.”
I love my niece.
I spent a few hours this morning reassembling one of my favorite lego sets, Fire Breathing Fortress. Several years ago, closer to a decade than I’d like to admit, this wondrous castle fell into disrepair and, having lost the manual, I lacked the instructions to put it back together. So it sat in a garbage bag in storage throughout some of my High School, University and Cambodia years. But this morning I felt the need to de-stress a bit so I unpacked my old legos, looked up the instructions at peeron.com, and set to work. It was quite rewarding to see it come back together though I was missing a few pieces, most critically the dragon cage gate, but everything came together thanks to improvisation.
I spent last week sick. Four days with a fever around 102-104 and two days at the less frightening 99-100 range. My thoughts were caught in a positive feedback loop… Maddening, I hate what fevers do to my brain…but I have to admit that they are a handy function for the immune system. Anyway, my fever finally broke after six days and I’m slowly getting my feet back on the ground.
I thought I wasn’t suppose to get sick once I was back in North America. Not sick for real, anyway.
I’ve been home for two and a half weeks but I only just got the space to do some reflection. I think I did more processing in the five hours I was at the Seoul airport than I did in the first two weeks I was home. It was crazy. There has been so much going on. Much of it has been good, seeing old friends and family, but it’s still been intense. I’m visiting my Dad now in New Jersey and now I’m getting the space to sort out my thoughts. I painted a shed today and found it surprisingly reflective.
My last Tuesday afternoon in Prey Veng Sakhoeun called me on the phone and asked me to go out to dinner with him. He sounded a bit nervous which is normal, he almost always sounds either nervous or frustrated when talking to me over the phone – often enough in person too. I admit that I was less than thrilled by the prospect, I’ve had many an awkward meal with Cambodians who were offended that I wouldn’t drink beer with them, but I accepted him invitation regardless. He had had to skip out on my farewell party early and I figured that this was his way of making amends for that. It was raining and I was really dreading the whole evening as I waited for him at the Prey Veng MCC Office, I kept on thinking what a relief it would be when all of this was over. No more awkward language barriers, no more worrying about slighting someone, and no more of this maddening insistence on everyone drinking alcohol at every social gathering – not so sure that I’ll be able to escape that last one back home.
He picked me up at 6:30 and we went to eat at a nice restaurant that an uncle in Scott’s host family owns. It sort of makes sense that Sakhoeun would take us there; he was the one who introduced us to Scott’s host family and helped us set it up back when we hardly had a clue what we were doing. That seems like so long ago but Sakhoeun was there helping us then, back when we had no translator and almost no language skills.
We sat down and Sakhoeun asked if I knew wanted to drink Beer. I said no. He laughed and said, “I didn’t think so, you Mennonites don’t drink Beer. See, I know.” Then he went on to tell me about the foreigner he had had dinner with the night before who apparently knew how to drink beer, smoke cigarettes, and sing karaoke. But he did say that I was better looking as I wasn’t so skinny. The waitress disagreed though; she thought the other guy had been better looking. I didn’t feel particularly judged by this tale; mostly I was relieved that it wasn’t going to be a night of awkward relationship killing refusals to drink. I can’t tell you how sick I am of those.
After a bit Sotherith arrived and the three of us proceeded to eat a nice large meal together. Actually, first Sakhoeun asked me if I wanted to pray. I shouldn’t have been so surprised – he has been working with Mennonites since I was seven years old. What a realization that was. We had a variant of prohok called puchok that left the fish mostly intact, snau teah, and cha: sike goa bon. There were some awkward moments thanks to my slipping language skills but it was a good meal overall. Sakhoeun and Sotherith told me that I would forget all my Khmer in the states unless I found some Cambodians there to practice with. I responded that I was losing my Khmer here but I’d heard that most MCCers who went back found that they spoke better Khmer than most Khmer Americans. Sakhoeun said that the kids raised in the States usually didn’t learn any Khmer. We talked a bit about Larry, Mike Roberts, how handsome Sakhoeun use to be, whether or not I’d recognize Sotherith in five years, and about what Khmer foods I would miss the most.
Sakhoeun kept on putting more food in my bowl and explained that he thought I should eat up good Khmer meat while I had the chance because he knows that back in the States I’ll be eating a lot of vegetables – he knows us better than I thought. He praised the duck, an all natural Prey Veng duck. They don’t have duck like that in America he said. It’s true. Like most Cambodian poultry the meat was tough but the flavor was good. I’ve actually come to prefer that tough flavorful meat though I still haven’t come to enjoy crunching through all the bones.
Towards the end of the meal Sakhoeun gave me, my family, and my finance a simple but nice blessing. I couldn’t translate it all but I caught enough to know that it was a formal Khmer blessing. It was really humbling.
We talked a bit after that about how long I’d been here and Sakhoeun was surprised that I’d been in Prey Veng for three years, then we figured out that that was because I’d only been the adviser for PVIO for two years and two months. Before that it was Sarinda. Which lead me to initiating a talk about how difficult it is for them to have a new adviser every couple of years. I suspected and they confirmed that the constant transitions are rough and more than a bit jarring. I said it in one of my early reports but this was a good reminder that PVIO was a real blessing to us when we first started setting up the MCC Prey Veng office. They really helped us in a lot of ways. It wasn’t until I became their partner adviser that I got really frustrated with them and I think a good portion, though certainly not all, of that was the language barrier. I have learned so much from these wonderful maddening government officials – some of the best in Cambodia I’m convinced. They manage to accomplish so much while engulfed in a culture of corruption that I’m only now beginning to get a grasp of.
It was a pleasant low-key farewell. I’m glad I didn’t say no when he invited me.
Whelp… My farewell party is over, the guests have scattered back to their busy lives, and I’m sitting here feeling caught between two worlds.
People I know around town have started exclaiming in surprise when they see me – ‘Are you still here, I thought you went home?’ It’s jarring to hear this as I ride to breakfast, as I have done almost every morning for the last years. It leaves me feeling like the deal is done, Prey Veng is no longer my home even though I’m still here. At times I feel desperate to escape to Phnom Penh – to finish this journey in a place that is familiar but which has never been home. It’s only natural that my sense of belonging is swiftly crumbling as I approach the end of my time here, the question that I’m wrestling with is how to best weather these feelings.
The week before my farewell party was a hectic one. I made my last trip out to Angkearhdei with Miles and Ruth on Tuesday. I’m glad that they’ll be taking over the project but it feels strange to hand over responsibility for it after all I’ve been through. There was also a final visit to this year’s Irrigation renovation site at Kompon Th’nol on Thursdays and a long meeting with the program directors and Sakhoeun about plans for the future on Friday. Interspersed with those visits I was doing the usual paperwork, setting things up for the team meeting on Friday afternoon, and running around organizing my party. I had signed up to lead devotion for the team meeting and I ended up reading Isaiah 58 – not quite the standard inspirational or reflective reading.
Saturday, I had a nice breakfast with the Millers and Yordys but the rest of the morning was crazy. I had decided that for my farewell party I was going to serve herbal tea and coconut milk instead of the usual soda. It was fun and cheap. I spent some time Friday brewing Peppermint and Lemon tea then on Saturday I took a big plastic container and went off to have it filled with coconut juice. It ended up taking eight coconuts to fill it up and all the Cambodians who saw it thought it was rice wine. It turns out that eight coconuts costs the same as four cans of Coke and provide about twice the liquid. Good to know. While the drink selection was a bit unusual the food was some of my favorite Khmer dishes; fried pickled cabbage with pork made by the Kuyteal Lady, prahok k’tee made by Barbara’s amazing cook Nuah, and a chicken curry soup by the Wiederkehr’s cook Sarun. The food was great. Though I forgot to tell the Kuyteal Lady, whose real name is Aul Runh, that we would have three dishes so she made a ton of fried pickled cabbage… The Wiederhehrs, Sarun, Danni, and I ended up eating the leftovers for three days! I felt like I had picked cabbage coming out of my ears – that’s one Khmer dish I won’t miss for awhile. Ruth cut up all the vegetables for the prahok k’tee, bought fruit, and made cookies – I was glad for her help. David and Lana helped me wash dishes and set up the tables, if they had not been there I don’t know what would have happened – life would have gone on I suppose but the party wouldn’t have been finished in time. Little things like napkins and rice plates would have been missing if Lana’s sharp eye hadn’t noticed their exclusion! I had to run to place we were renting the tent from to ask why they hadn’t given us plates for the rice, so weird.
I was running around for most of the farewell party itself too. Serving drinks, fixing problems, greeting people. Sakhoeun had another engagement so he left early which ruined the speech I had prepared – it’s hard to make a speech directed towards your partners when they aren’t there. Ming Pheap and Amara showed up from Phnom Penh, they had come all the way in just for my farewell! I wish I had been able to spend more time with them, they headed back right after the party as Amara had her accounting exams that evening. Sam Ang surprised me with a gift, a recommendation from the people of Prey Veng as penned by him. I wonder if I can include it with my resume? I doubt it but I may have it framed when I get home. The speech I ended up giving on the fly was alright – at least no rotten fruit or vegetables came flying my way.
There was about an hour of good food and good company. The Cambodian ladies took over cleaning up and, for once, I let them dissuade me from helping since it was my party. In short order everything was packed up and everyone was leaving. Suddenly I was left alone at the office with nothing to do but wait for the tent to get picked up. That’s when I started writing this post. I was sitting up in the office in the still after having seen everyone scatter back to their lives. It left me feeling not quite sad, not quite happy but certainly reflective.
Looking back on the last month I wonder what happened? When did that mountain of paperwork begin to shrink? When did all those things I had on my to do list begin to get checked off? It seemed to happen snip by snip, so little that I didn’t even realize that I was progressing.
There was one big turning point though. I was at my last expatriate Bible Study and started talking to my friend Barbara about something that has been weighing heavily on my mind – the fate of my cats. The Umbles happened to be there taking a break from Phnom Penh and let it be known that they are actually looking for a cat – possibly two. I introduced them to Stoopid and Ch’kout. They want to talk it over more but the cats, though maybe just one of the cats, who kept me sane and gave me good company might just end up in a good home. It was an immense relief and, though it seems silly compared to the greater struggles of the world, I felt very cared for – the Lord provides is what came to me in words. Though I’m trying to keep from getting my hopes too up until I get that confirmation that they want them.
Time flies. I made my last trip to the school today with Miles and Ruth, who will be taking over the program for me. It was a good visit though a strange one. It’s hard to believe that I won’t be out there again for years. It’s hard to comprehend that I’ve been working with them for over two years now. The Primary School Hunt seems so long ago. Now I’m going home. Then I’m getting married. Life lives. I just hope I can keep on living it. I’m afraid that suburbia will steal my soul, all the comfort and security comes at a price. I’m scared that working to earn money rather than to promote my ideals will change me. But, at least for this next bit, that’s what I need to do.
I’ve been inviting folks to my going away party and I ordered the tent for it this afternoon. Twenty-five dollars for a eight by eight meter tent with five tables, forty chairs, and all the plates, silverware, and pots. It’s definitely a different world from the wedding catering information Crystal has sent me.
I feel conflicted about leaving. I’m happy and sad, relieved and dismayed, panicked and calm… I guess that’s enough of an glimpse at me for now.
Yesterday, over the course of an hour of beginning to pack my bags, I developed a deep hatred for mouse-kind. Suffice to say that I do not have as much to bring home as I had believed. Indeed, even my suitcases had been gnawed into and their contents befouled. My wonderful Ghibli calendar, a gift from a friend in Japan, was disgustingly defiled – it was not enough to devour large portions of it, these foul rodents felt the need to urinate and defecate on what remained. Clothing, books, and many other possessions were so violated. The flames of hatred now burn in my heart and ere I leave Cambodia I fear that I shall unleash a reckoning upon these foul rodents unlike any that they have beheld before. Though my land lord cares not if the vicious beasts destroy his belongings in the name of vengeance alone I shall have at them.
What a disservice to society cartoonists have done by portraying these fiendish agents of destruction and ruin as innocent and cute creatures! Felines have been the friends of humanity for ages but now we denounce them in media while promoting the plague bearers that caused the deaths of countless human beings over the centuries? It is scarcely believable! The blinders have been removed from my eyes! I shall not forget the reek of mouse-kind in the years to come, they have earned themselves a mighty and unrelenting enemy in my personage. Ever shall I hope from this day forth that Tom succeeds against Jerry and that Shere Khan does away with Mickey in a dark alley. Let Minnie fall to that Darn Cat and if Garfield refuses to do the job let another more worthy feline take his place.
My throat and right ear are host to an ‘acute bacterial infection’ a.k.a. Strep Throat, this is good news however as it means that I am not, as I have been in the past, afflicted by a virus. These microscopic invaders, following lunch today, shall be subjected to all the devastation that antibiotics can break. Devastation to which they, unlike viruses, are quite susceptible.
The two new English Teachers for the Royal University of Agriculture have arrived. I wasn’t in the best of shape to show them around but it was fun to watch the Sachs orient them – the Sachs have been here only a month. One is a SALTer from Canada and the other is Cambodia’s first YAMENer. Observing their first day I felt a dull bittersweet ache – a sort of homesickness for Kampuchea. I’m glad that I’m leaving here with this feeling, I was afraid at one point that I wouldn’t.