One question

Studying at the Department of Foreign Languages at Phnom Penh University it is not surprising that Khmer students are often keen to practice their English. Yesterday a guy came up and said, 'Excuse me, can I ask you one question?' I replied in the affirmative so he continued, 'What does it mean: "As a person, I am a disaster?"'

Running Track

Woo hoo! Link to Japanese dating site that mysteriously appeared has gone! (Might have been the browser Mark? I don't know but...)

A couple of weeks ago I discovered that early in the morning the roads around our local market square become an exercise path. Each morning about a dozen people run or walk around these flat, sealed streets. I've started to become a bit of a regular too. I join them two or three times per week for about half an hour. The only unpleasant part of the track is one corner where the rubbish is dumped. The bins are always overflowing onto the ground and spilling out onto the road too. At this point in my circuit I cross the street and try not to breathe too deeply! The other regulars all do the same.

This morning I noticed that there are some people for whom the rubbish pile isn't something to be avoided. It is the focus of their attention. The adults walk purposefully towards it with their small carts and the kids carry their empty rice sakcs. They all search amongst the scraps. I wondered what my brief fit of early morning exercise might look to those who spend most of their day walking the streets? Each of the adults had a scarf wrapped around their head and face. I'd always though this was to protect them from the sun but today I wondered if they might be hiding from my eyes as well?

I'll spend most of today at various desks studying. This is a necessary and, at times, protective isolation. Yet as I am able to participate more in this culture, I want to remain open to noticing the people in this city (and in many others) who often go unnoticed. The stench of the rubbish on the market corner will be a small but constant reminder.

huh?

Why is there a link on my blog to some dating site I have never heard of before? Anyone know how I can get rid of it? (I'm pretty clueless in dealing with these things!?!)

Anyway, just a short blog today. My brother Scott made a comment of how jealous he was about me spending week in the countyside in Cambodia. I guess if you are feeling stressed and pressured by work, family, mortages, unemployment, underemployment, study, credit card debt or whatever... going to just about any village in this country is going to feel like you have arrived on another planet.

My visit was, in some ways, very easy. But Scott, spare a thought for the moments when:
- 'Dad' buy a new car two days before we are about to go and teaches himself to drive on the main national highway as we go.
- We listen to the same CD on the national highway for over 3 hours...
- I sit in the back seat with three other people and a dog.
- I'm in the village and I can understand enough Khmai to know that a group of people are talking about & laughing about my language mistakes but I still don't understand enough language to figure out what I said incorrectly.
- I want to go out for a walk but it is not suitable for me to go by myself and nobody wants to take me.
- I help to prepare a feast for the biggest night of the New Year festival but when the time comes to eat and when everyone is allocated different groups to sit with (based on age and rank in the village) I'm put in a room to eat by myself (with a fan- so I think the whole thing was supposed to be a compliment but I felt soooo lonely!).

That's all for today. I'm not grumbling... just trying to fill you in a bit more on different aspects of the NY break. Living here is a package deal.

More on New Year...

I've been trying to think of how to sum up my six days in the village but it was such a mixture of different experiences and emotions! It is difficult to give a complete picture so I guess I'll just try for a few glimpses... Here is one:

The first night I discovered what I think was supposed to be a secret. While the afternoon was still quite warm I took the opportunity to lounge in the hammock inside the house and ended up falling asleep. When I woke from my nap I wandered out the back to see what everyone was doing. I saw four or five men squatting on the ground in a clearing amongst some small trees close to the houses. When I stepped outside they quickly folded an old rice sack over something. But this something had a something that looked rather like the tail of a dog hanging out the side of the sack. The other thing that seemed a little odd was that several men were holding large knives in their hands. Too quickly- "mum" called me to go for a walk. For the next hour or two we wandered from place to place, sitting to chat with friends and relatives. While we were still out I was called back to eat.

To my surprise I was led into a room with a place on the floor set for one. Perhaps they thought that I must be getting hungry? I tried to do the polite thing for an Australian context by explaining that I wasn't too hungry and was happy to wait for everyone else before I ate. This suggestion wasn't well received so eventually I sat. The sister I share a room with kindly joined with me. We ate a pork and vegetable dish with rice.

Some time after dinner I went outside again where the other meat curry was almost ready to be eaten. One of the older women gave me a cheeky smile and asked in Khmer, "Can you eat this food?" I replied, "Yes, I can." This started quite a discussion with most people seeming to agree with the person who declared authoritatively, "She doesn't understand. She doesn't know what it is. She can't eat this food." I didn't argue. If they thought they had their secret I'd keep it hidden that their secret was out.

The next morning my "younger brother" made it all quite obvious. He came up to me looking excited and said with a loud, clear voice (& in English)- "Do you want to eat dog today?" Alas, there were no leftovers. As far as I know all of the remaining dogs (even the really noisy ones) were still barking when we left. Maybe next Khmer New Year...

April 17

Yesterday we arrived back in Phnom Penh after our Battambang visit (more on that to come...)

I went for a walk late afternoon to stretch my legs after the journey. Our local market square, which is usually alive with activity, was really quiet. Most of the shops were closed. Most of the 1960's style houses and apartments were deserted. Most households were still away celebrating the biggest holiday of the year with family and friends in their hometown.

As I walked I reflected that on this day, thirty years ago, these same streets would have also been strangely still. On April 17, 1975, the Khmer Rouge began the task of evacuating the entire city. April 17 marks the beginning of what is now an infamous period in Cambodia's history.

While I enjoyed a reflective stroll yesterday I know that over these next few days Phnom Penh will return to her usual self. Full of people. Full of life. Full of brilliant craziness.

Khmer New Year

I'm off to the countryside this week for KNY with my adopted family. I have no idea what I'm in for but will let you know next week....

Chinatown

Yesterday I went shopping with some friends near Central Market. Two of us decided to eat lunch out and in a moment of inspiration I remembered that we were close to Phnom Penh’s mini Chinatown (a row of about 10 shops). I ordered steamed dumplings, rice and an eggplant & pork dish to share. The food was good but the experience of eating it was great. As I started the mushy eggplant hanging from the end of my chopsticks I wondered what it was about this experience that made me so excited?

Eating in Phnom Penh’s Chinatown brought clusteres of random memories to the surface again. It was almost two years ago in the same restaurant that Nick boldly ordered pigs ears. (Not recommended!) We told him in jest that he wasn’t allowed to eat any of the other dishes until he finished his pigs ears. Unfotunately, Nick took us seriously and I can still see him chewing the fatty appendages with renewed vigour in the desperate hope of finishing the mound… I remember making dumplings in Southern China one stormy afternoon with some foreign friends and their Chinese friends. One of the young Chinese women, who spoke rather broken English, looked out the window and exclaimed, “a temptest is brewing!” We wondered from which ancient English text book she managed to rote-learn this phrase? ….I remember when Deb took me out for my birthday one year to the cheap “chilli eggplant place” in Tsim Sha Tsui. We then blew the budget on cocktails and chocolate brownie dessert at the Hard Rock Café round the corner. Mmmm...

As I sat with a new friend sipping hot tea from a glass, mixing soy sauce with chilli ready to dip the dumplings and listening to the waitress speak Mandarin, I realised why the fod tasted so good. The memories and the company made the meal.

Jesus could have chosen any ritual or symbol for us to remember him by. Yet he chose a meal. When we meet together to eat the bread and drink the cup we are commanded to remember the life and death of Jesus. It is the memory the makes the meal.

At the same time the company is also of crucial importance. Paul rebuked the church at Corinth because when they ate and drank together the rich overindulged while the poor went hungry. He went so far as to say that meetings such as these do more harm than good. Jesus kept company at the table with many different kinds of people. He often broke the rules but his table was inclusive. God’s desire is that all may be able to enjoy together the benefits of sharing in the life of Christ- rich and poor; insiders and outsiders; young and old; men and women; the well respected and the outcast. The company makes the meal.

Polite Questions/ Mysterious Friendships

The other day I asked someone the question, “what do you do?” ….or if I didn’t use these exact words it was something very similar. I don’t really like this question because even when I know that people are being kind I often hear this one as, “please justify your existence.” Maybe I’m being a little dramatic, but I hear, “what is your value to this relationship, organisation, community, country or world” all wrapped up in that four word question.

Sometime last year I wrote a long list of questions that I’d secretly like to ask people when I meet them. I’ve forgotten nearly all of them but I think I wrote:
- Have you ever cried because something was beautiful?
- Have you ever slept all night on the beach?
- When was the last time you just stopped and looked at the stars?
- How often do you wonder whether or not you are going insane?

I’ve forgotten the rest because I don’t use them. I don’t use them because I try not to scare people and I think it is polite to start with questions people know the answers to. It builds rapport.

Lately I’ve been meeting some new people so I’ve been saying things such as, “what are you doing in Cambodia in the moment?” or “which organisation are you with?” or even, “what is your professional background?” Sometimes I want to preface this by saying, “by the way, this isn’t an interrogation. I’m just asking because I’d like to know you better.” But that could be dangerous because I might end up launching into a speech like this:

“I am totally fascinated by the people that God has placed on this planet. To begin to contemplate the reality that each person has unique experiences, thoughts, feelings, perspectives, passions and desires is amazing. Seriously, when I think about all the wonders of creation- people come top of my list every time. You amaze me! There are no truly ordinary people. Sometimes I think about how few people out of all those who have lived and died and of all those who are yet to be born that I will ever have the chance to interact with in some small way. How few will I engage with a word, a touch or a smile. What a tiny proportion of amazing people will become part of those I meet regularly and even smaller, the number who will become friends. Yet, in all this there is something that brings us together in simply being people and in this moment- at this time, in this place- there is this simple but intangible wonder in the reality that- here we are. I know that I can only dip my toe in when it comes to really understanding the depths of those around me. Despite this, I want to know you better. I want to make room for you. I want to make space for you to disclose whatever parts of yourself you choose to disclose to me. I want to try to truly listen- whether or not you speak about things I know a lot about or expect hear or find easy to open my ear to. I want to learn to truly listen- not arriving at premature conclusions but walking at your pace and (as much as I can) in your shoes. As you share with me I come willing to change. This is not because I want to impress you or become a poor copy of something I’m not. This is because I know that I don’t have all the answers. If you decide to journey with me then you will have a part to play in figuring where this adventure leads. In it I will change and you will have the chance to embrace something of the new also. So do you want to do coffee sometime?”

Maybe all this would freak someone out more than asking them straight up how often they question their sanity. But with the opportunity to meet new people and form new friendships, this is how I feel about the mystery of it all.

Extra Help

Some days it seems like I'm getting extra help with learning Khmer.

This morning I set a lesson plan to learn around twenty new verbs. One of the things that came up with my tutor is that there is a different word for dropping something on purpose and dropping something accidentally. As soon as my lesson finished I went to a shop/ house around the corner to buy rice for breakfast. While I was standing there, cash in hand, I dropped one of the notes. One of the ladies serving rice exclaimed, "You dropped something accidentally!" (just the single word in Khmer) and I turned to pick it up. How convenient that after seven weeks of shopping every day and not dropping any money (that I am aware of!) I should accidentally drop something five minutes after studying the verb.

His Delight

On Thursday morning I read the following quotes from Psalms 147&149:

'The strength of a horse does not impress him,
how puny in his sight is the strength of a man.
Rather, the LORD's delight is in those who honour him,
those who put their hope in his unfailing love.
...For the LORD delights in his people;
he crowns the humble with salvation.'

God delights in his people. He is not impressed by the things that we are so easily taken in by. But he delights in, rejoices with, sings over, giggles with and breaks into dance because of his people.

I was meditating on these verses early on Thursday morning but didn't get any great revelation until I met up with a friend on Thursday evening. He became a father later in life and his son is now four years old. He was mentioning over dinner some of the things he does with his boy, Michael. For a start, he bought a newspaper on the day he was born. Nice idea. Michael was born on a Tuesday so every Tuesday for the first year of his life, his dad took a photo of him. That's dedication! (He didn't want to forget how quickly he grew up and how much he changed during those first twelve months.) In addition, he keeps a diary, adding entries several times a week. He writes about things Michael says and does. He writes about things they do as a family. He also writes prayers, confessions and hopes he has for his son's future. He so obviously delights in his boy!

I'm not sure if God is keeping a blog for me? ...but I know that his delight is in those who put their hope in his unfailing love.