Adjusting to life in Cambodia

It took me 2 years and 6 days to make the move to the land I have considered a second home, though, I've never spent more than 3 months consecutively here. The last 2 years I spent many a weekend taking the 6-7 hour bus ride to/from HCMC - Phnom Penh. I'm almost at my eight month mark of living here in Phnom Penh. I made the switch to follow my dream of working for an NGO. Two years in Vietnam made me realize the lifestyle of a would-be embassy worker is not what I want. Working for the U.S. embassy would require changing posts every 2 years. I've come to the conclusion it's difficult to live in a country if you don't speak the language very well (and lack the motivation to study it in depth) and if you don't have a strong appreciation for its culture. Not to say anything bad about Vietnam, I just know for me, Cambodia has something special in it. I did enjoy my time in Vietnam, but it was time to move on and get serious with following this dream I've had since college.

Teaching for 7 months, and volunteering simultaneously for 2 months has landed me an opportunity with the NGO I volunteer at. Wednesday April 23, I will begin employment and say goodbye to teaching as my occupation.

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Just finished reading one of my favorite books, Catfish and Mandala by Andrew X. Pham. He chronicles his life from being born in Vietnam to escaping by boat to the States and how he adjusts and deals with identity as he makes a bike trip up and down Vietnam. It's a really great read and I highly recommend it.

Identity troubles

Mr. Pham discusses the differing states of his identity throughout his trip, a Vietnamese, Viet-Kieu, Chinese, Korean, Japanese, and being an American. He also explains his difficulty in meeting other Vietnamese who he could have been, but he was the one who went to America, and who has the different role. He questions why that is and how easy it could have been for him to be in their shoes.

This is the issue that I often struggle with. Despite only having English, Scottish, and German blood in me, every day I see people that I know if I was the one born into this country, I wouldn't be here today. Born with two holes in my heart, being in and out of hospitals for the first five years of my life. I recognize how lucky I am, but also question why it is me, Why am I the one who was lucky enough to be born in a country with quality medical care, quality education, and mass opportunity? Along with this luck comes sets of privileges due to my skin color and my native country.

This past week was Khmer New Year. My best friend in Cambodia, Kosal, invited me to his house in Kampong Chhnang. I've been there about 5 times now, and feel very comfortable and grateful of his family's hospitality and openness. This time I spent 4 nights there in the rural countryside. It was meals of trey ngiet (sour salty fried fish), mi sour (fried noodle with pork), somlor krueng (hot and sour soup), and prahok (fermented fish paste). Each night ended with the correct celebratory manner, either beer or rice wine. Each night we drank at someone else's house. I was told it was an honor for my hosts to have me come and attend these parties. I, however, always felt it was my honor to attend their parties and get a glimpse of what their lives are like.

One party in particular was unexpected. We finished giving alms to the monks in the hopes that our ancestors are doing well and I snuck in some prayers for current living family and friends as well. Kosal and I walked around the temple grounds and met people he knows, we exchanged conversations and I got to practice my Khmer a bit which was nice. About an hour or so later, it was time to eat. After our meal we were going to go back home, but once we walk down the stairs a guy approaches us on his motorbike and he wants to invite us to his house for a small party. Feeling tired and stuffed, it wasn't the best time for me. I also never met this guy and Kosal never told me about him either, it seemed a bit strange, but I decided to roll the dice and see what would happen. I hop on my newfound friend Sopheak's motorbike and we go to his house. Upon arrival there are 10-12 Cambodian guys with at least a case's worth of Black Panther cans on the dirt floor. I can tell this is going to be an inebriated party. The first man to approach me speaks French, and I tell him I don't understand. A bit let down, he decides to speak to me in English and asks me to translate English to Khmer for him to the host of the party. I do as he pleases and see his gold watch sagging off his boney arm. He turns out to be the Director of Primary Education in the Province, and also the drunkest one at the party. Luckily about 10 minutes later Kosal arrives and he makes all the proper introductions. After the introductions, Drunky orders Kosal to pour him beer in a manner of pure egotism. He cheers me with his can at an equal height, yet when he cheers Kosal, his can is at half the height, his supremacy glowing. I understand in Khmer culture and language there are people higher than you and people lower than you, it's just the way things are. There is a hierarchy and it's always there, in your face.

Some of the other partiers, usually the polite farmers always try to cheers me with their glass/can lower than mine, or they will touch their left arm to the elbow, showing respect. It is very polite of them, but I cannot help but want to tell them, no, I'm not in any way better than you or more superior than you. Please, just cheers me like any other person. My American thinking coming out of me. I attempt to cheers each person as equally as I can, and of course as more Black Panthers are pounded, the cheers do become more equal.

At one point I finally decide to question Kosal, and tell him that I'm just any other person. Though I find their politeness and their strong willingness to invite me to their homes to drink and eat flattering, simultaneously, I have a hard time coming to terms with this imposed idea that I am somehow an "honorable" guest, a person who will bring them good luck or some positive benefit. My mind wonders to how it would be different if I was Cambodian-American or a Cambodian...

As we continue our party, the hosts and other guests all apologize for the drunkenness of Drunky, I am happy to tell them it's okay, not the first time I've dealt with a drunk person before. I did have to decline Drunky's dance proposal. Luckily, he did not turn into an angry fit. Later we all decide to pile into the host's truck and go dance at the temple.

We dance for a while and Kosal was in charge of coordinating New Years games. The day before they played a few games, four legged race, viyay krahom (hit the red [pot]), a singing competition, fill up the water bottle using a straw, and blow out all of the powder from a bowl. Kosal really wanted me to participate in hitting the red pot. Same concept as a piñata, but instead it's about a 6-inch circumference pot and you only get three swings. Nobody moves the pots, they are stationary. But you are spun three times and you have to take about 3-5 steps to make it to hitting distance with the pot. On the first day I apparently came within inches of hitting the pot. Only one girl was able to hit the pot the first day. Today is the second day of games. Kosal really encourages me to play again. I repeatedly decline, saying someone else should get a try as there are hundreds of people there and the other contestants didn't get a second try. All of my repeated attempts to decline fall on false ears and I'm announced on the microphone to come and participate. There's no going back. This time I succeed and hit the pot and win some money from the competition. Kosal then informs me I'm participating in another competition. The slowest bicycle race. They didn't have this game yesterday. He said I have to participate because I'm competing against nobility, Commune Leaders, an Election Official, and Village Chief. No way of backing down, I participate and happily lose.

For our last night we go to drink at Kosal's cousin's house. We sit underneath his house and drink Cambodia beer in glasses. It's a goodnight, not many bugs and stars are out in full force. We play "ktey" a Cambodian card game and talk about the fun times we had during this Khmer New Year. On the way back from buying the beer, I see the moon is a reddish orange. Riding behind Kosal on his motorbike, I alert him and tell him to look at the moon. Little did I know, that part of the road has a lot of ghosts, so Kosal was very frightened when I told him to look. There I was, seeing something beautiful, and there he was shaking in his boots, one of the stories told later in the night.
Mr. Bird, one of Kosal's good friends and a guy who makes the only cocktail in Kampong Chhnang, "Sra Ok" which is rice wine mixed with coke, sugar, salt, and lime. It is not stirred but slammed 2-3 times on a krama (Cambodian scarf) then it is supposed to be quickly chugged before the salt and sugar settle.
Mr. Bird recently went to Ratanakiri province, the most northeastern province to find work. He tells us a tale of how he was working on a farm there and he was with some Jarai people, an ethnic minority. He saw a beautiful chicken. But he didn't dare. I ask for clarification and realize I misheard "kramom" for "muan" (girl of marriageable age for chicken). We all laugh at my misunderstanding.

Each morning I set out to get some exercise in and Kosal was dragged into it. The first two days we rode bicycles and got caught in the rain the first time so we stop by one of his friend's house's to wait it out. The next day we ride bikes and a passing farmer asks us what we're doing, "hat pran" (exercise), the farmer laughs and says "Joy, hat pran!" Fuck! exercise!" He found it to be one of the funniest/craziest things to do as he chuckled off down the road.

The third day we played volleyball. Mr. Bird created a volleyball court in his front yard. It was part dirt, part sand, part branches, palm tree stumps, and some pebbles thrown in for all variety. Good thing was the tree stumps were located symmetrically which helped to make each court of equal difficulty. Nothing particularly funny happened aside from just dealing with the elements of playing on this volleyball court and having chickens run into the court every now and then. This was the best exercise we had and the most fun.

Overall it was a great Khmer New Year. Kosal's family is amazingly gracious and I'm very happy I was able to spend the Khmer New Year with them. I found all of the villagers in his town to be very hospitable and welcoming like all the other times. Getting out of the city is always a nice break.