It's Nearly Christmas!

It is nearly Christmas. I've been saying this for the past three days- "Elow jet bon Noel." I want to remind myself that tomorrow there is a reason to celebrate. For those who recognise the birth of Jesus too, I want to encourage their joy. For those who don't know and have never celebrated Christmas, I want them to wonder (better yet, ask...) "What is she so excited about?"

Yesterday, while I was having a drink at a market stall with a couple of friends, I started chatting with a guy selling postcards & books for tourists. He was wearing a brace on his left leg and walked with a crutch. (He may or may not have a disablity.) As we were talking I mentioned, "Elow jet bon Noel." He responded immediately with a "Hallelujah!"Whether this was said in jest or in praise I'm not sure but I took his literal meaning and replied, "Yes, uncle. It is good to praise Jesus."

This afternoon I'm going to a small birthday party for Jesus. We have started the preparations but still have more to do. The banners have been painted but the balloons still need to go up. The menu has been planned but at least on of the cooks still hasn't been to the supermarket yet. I'm sure it will come together and at 5:30pm six of us (incluing two kids) will gather. We'll eat some good food. We'll sing some songs. The adults will bring their gifts for Jesus. We will sing Happy Birthday and cut the specially decorated cake.

Hallelujah!
Elow jet bon Noel!
Merry Christmas!

Do You Want To Kill Something?

Two nights ago I saw a decent sized mouse/ rat/ furry creature running across the bedroom floor. Yesterday, I tried this conversation starter with my Khmer brother, "Ramy- do you want to kill something." He was interested.

Last night he set out half a dozen or so pieces of cardboard covered with sticky, mouse-grabbing glue. At 6am this morning I was able to see the results. We'd caught two furry things. Dad waved them in my direction and reminded me they were still alive. Fortunately, though, Ramy lived up to his promise and finished them off. He is my hero for today.


PS There's a sign next to every computer in this internet place that says, "Thank You For Not Opening Sex Picture". Amen to that!

HR

Last night I was talking with the lifeguard/ swimming teacher at the indoor pool. He used to teach Khmer to Junior High students so was interested to look at the texts I'm studying. (Yes- this does mean I was studying at the pool on a Sunday night- hmmm...) After a thirty minute improptu test and Khmer lesson, we switched to English so that he could have language practice too.

He was telling me about his desire to begin studying again and to find a better job in order to continue supporting his parents as well as starting a family of his own. He said, "I want to be a.... I forget... ummm... I want to be a human...oh I don't know...I want to be a human..." After some discussion I was able to guess the missing word, "resource?" "Yes!" he replied. "I want to be a human resource. I want to be a human resource!" I told him he already is. "You are working and helping your mother and father. You can teach people swimming so you have useful skills. You are a human resource." He answered, "No! I am not. I am afraid I stay here every day and become stupid!"

His story made me think of the people I've met who have a job but whose work is repetitive, dull and without any challenge. I think of the moto driver I spoke to who has three customers on a good day. I think of the guards I see around the city who get payed maybe $30 a month to come and sit and watch. While I know that the lifeguard isn't poor in relation to most Cambodian people, I wonder if boredom is one of the curses of poverty. It isn't as dramatic (nor as visible) as hunger, disease and cold, but it kills all the same.

So, without having any answers, this blog simply wants to recognise the cry of those who say:

I want to find meaningful employment. I want to be be challenged and stimulated by what I do. I want to have a bit more than enough to survive. I want to feel like I'm able to contribute something to my country, my family, my children. I want to be a human resource!

I've Got A Moto

I've got a motorbike. Well, you might call it that. My brother might have his doubts as it isn't at all like the 250cc sports bike he used to ride. My mum would likely call it a motor scooter because it is closer to the 50cc machine she used to ride to uni (wearing a mini skirt and long boots in winter- so I'm told!) Anyway, I've got a moto.

It looks pretty much the same as the thousands of other motos on the streets of Phnom Penh. It isn't a new model, nor is it super-fast. However, it is cool enough for my friends' domestic helper to call it "beautiful"and it is easy for my to ride- even when I'm doubling a passenger.

My moto is a gift. I've had it for a couple of months but I still don't ride it every day. If I'm going to uni I'll ride my pushie. If I'm going to to coffee house around the corner to sip their local brew, do some study and flick through some American Housekeeping magazine when I think that nobody is looking, I'll walk. But if I'm going to the gym and it is almost dark already or if it is the weekend and it is just for fun, I'll jump on my moto. It still feels like a gift. (Actually, pretty much everything I have is a gift in some way...)

My full-face helmet is a gift too. Aside from the obvious safety benefits, the great thing about choosing to wear a helmet is that I can mumble all kinds of extraordinary things to myself while weaving through the daytime traffic and nobody knows. Better yet, coming down the quiet streets at night, I sing. Just because I think I can get away with it. Just because I don't really care if people hear anyway. Just because I'm loving these gifts.

Marie Clare Magazine (& other inspiration)

Last weekend I had a moment of enlightenment while reading a 2004 Marie Clare magazine. The issue I picked up (while having brunch with a friend) ran a story about an American guy who had sold everything he owned. It was a kind of social experiment. He put all of his possessions for auction over the internet- down to the glasses on his face and the mouthwash in his bathroom. Then, he contacted the people who had bought his stuff. He went into their homes, did interviews, took photos and celebrated this new connection he had forged with people who had just bought a piece of his life.

Interesting… I’d just heard another tale maybe an hour before about an unnamed man who discovered treasure hidden in a field. He buried it again and then went away to sell everything he owned in order to buy that field- and gain the treasure also. The story goes that he was excited as he sold his stuff, for he knew he was about to gain something far more valuable.

Two nights before that, I heard another parable (or at least the start of it). Some friends and I had gathered to eat, drink and read aloud the story of a Nobody named Ordinary who was following his Big Dream. This required Ordinary to leave his hometown called Familiar. So, he packed a suitcase with The Usuals and started out. I remember the part in the story where Ordinary wonders whether lugging the suitcase has become an unnecessary burden. He decides to repack. Ordinary takes a few essentials, ties them in bundles and sets out again, whistling the tune he had never heard before.

For me, it wasn’t until the Marie Clare version of the story that my decision was confirmed, “I want to be in on this risky adventure too!” With excitement, with joy, I want to leave behind the Stuff that hinders. I want the Big Dream. I want the hidden treasure. And I want a crank’n good story to tell at the end of it all.

Handsome

Someone called me handsome the other day. I explained that we usually say girls are beautiful and boys are handsome. However I couldn't help adding, "But you can call me handsome if you like!"

Trying to Get Stuff Done

These kind of Monday mornings sneak up on me sometimes. At the start of the working week I feel like I really should get into seomething that kinda resembles work. I should set some goals, make a schedule, be productive, Get Stuff Done... But sometimes this freedom of language learning is far too much for me. I'm not sure if I can be trusted with so much time that I can fill with confusing thoughts of everything else.

It doesn't help that I've completey overdosed on books and DVD's this past weekend.

On Saturday morning I watched 5 teaching sessions back-to-back from a conference in Australia about poverty. I was glad that people went to this conference (called Surrender 05). I'm happy that they thought it was important enough to pay their money for it, show up for it and walk through the program together. Having said that, I was relieved to be able to watch the DVD's by myself... free to let the tears melt without having to try too hard to blink them away.

I remember Jackie Pullinger recounting her response to people who come to her asking for tips for ministry. These are individuals who have started big churches in their own countries or elsewhere and fancy themselves to try the same thing in Hong Kong. They ask Jackie how they may replicate their model of success and she gives them these tips:

1. learn Chinese
2. go live with the poor
3. be kind to them

And as I tried to sleep on Saturday night I thought this was good advice.

I tried to sleep on but I kept sneaking more chapters from The Story We Find Ourselves In. I crept out of my shared room several time, sat on the tiled floor in the corridor and read by the LED light on my mobile phone. I was inspired again that the story of the world is His story. And I was stoked to remember that my story can connect with His story and that He empowers me to do this. It was good to be reminded about simple stuff such as the reality that being a Christian isn't primarily about being polite (for example) but it is about following Jesus.

On Sunday morning I was ready for church (it was more than the coffee that prepared me, it was hope). So I went and it was OK. But I didn't repsond too well to the OK-ness of it. Instead I moaned to my friends over lunch about how most of the time I hate going to church (whether in English or Khmer). Then I felt bad because I wonder if me liking it or not misses the point completely.

Last night I baked chocolate cupcakes at my friends' place and while they were in the oven I did the dangerous deed of accepting her offer to switch on the TV. For the next half hour we sat and watched on CNN about the 5 million or so who are starving in Malawi. I couldn't watch quietly. I kept throwing questions at the screen, talking back to the reporters and trying in some way to get my head around another tragedy that is hammering our fragile planet this year. We ate the cupcakes when they were done but I still don't know what to do about Malawi.

OK- so this is where I'm at today. Trying to Get Stuff Done but still feeling like I haven't got a clue...

God Is Coming

This is a reflection based on the advent readings for this Sunday, December 4.

God Is Coming (Isaiah 40:1-11)

Shout comfort.
Shout even louder-
tenderness- compassion.
Declare the message
God is coming!

In sovereign power
God feeds, raises, tends.
In awesome strength
God holds His lambs close to His heart.
With eternal purpose
He gently leads mothers with their young.
He who shouts comfort
can surely dance justice
sing salvation
weave healing.

Shout comfort-
God is coming.

Home For The Holidays

A number of people have already asked me if I have plans for Christmas. A couple have expressed their heartfelt sympathies that I will need to spend the holiday by myself, terribly alone, suffering the incomparable burden of being separated from family and friends for what could have been a potentially pleasant- even joyful- season. To restore some kind of balance to, it was good to see a wall hanging yesterday that read, "Cambodia- Home For The Holidays."

While I don't yet have any plans for December 25, I am reading through the advent readings for the four weeks leading up to Christmas day. Each week I'm attempting to write a reflection based on the readings and put the words into picture form by making a collage to go with it.

Here's my first reflection from Sunday, November 27.

Break In (From Isaiah 64:1-9)

Oh God, I long for you to
break in
burst forth
come down.
You are the God who works for those
who wait for you.
Yet I am constant
in my inconsistency.
Good ideas and best intentions
Brittle brown like autumn leaves crack.
Turn me again to yourself.
Look at me.
Come down.
Burst forth.
Break in.