This Post is for My Cambodian Experience

It is with sadness that I leave the Kingdom of Wonder. Wonderful, it has been. I have learned far more than I ever thought possible. I have made friends that will last a lifetime. I've learned that I can live on my own, work on my own and survive, with just a little encouragement from my family and friends. I learned how to ask more questions, hopefully better questions. I learned to sit-at-the-table even when I didn't feel like it.

I thought about staying longer but I'm grateful that the pieces feel together infinitely better than I ever through possible. I overflow with gratitude for the experiences I've had here. I wouldn't trade it, though many nights I cried and many days I plowed through with sheer determination when my heart just wasn't it in. I tried to learn something from each miserable experience, and I like to think that largely, I do take lessons away.

My organization likes to point out we never return from our assignments the same. Well obviously. You never live in any foreign country unchanged. But I am a lifer. This is not the solely defining international home. This is one piece of my story, and a very good piece indeed. It was a good use of three years.

My next story will take me back to Virginia and on to grad school. It will take me on adventures of pursuing important relationships. I thought I would be unhappy but I've begun to feel it's time. You know something is right when you feel a sense of inner peace; inexplicable yet comforting.

What does that mean for this blog? Well, after seven years, it can't stop now. It might take a sabbatical, but it will continue in various forms, at various times. After all, I am a lifer.

How my street changed in 2.5 years

I have been looking forward to this post for quite some time. For one, I like comparisons. Secondly, this is the easiest method to express in a limited way just how much Phnom Penh has changed over my time here. I live on the third floor of an apartment building and have a beautiful balcony which once offered an amazing view of the city. Now it offers a lovely view of...something....altered by urban development. Apparently all industrious Cambodians want to build a high-rise and make a quick buck from renters. Due to zero zoning laws, they continue to grow higher and closer together.

The first picture happened by accident. The second was intentional (if on a whim). The third is carefully and excitedly planned. Change is fascinating, it's it?

June 2011

November 2012

September 2013

A bonus picture

Just an average evening. Coming home and finding a cement mixer.

How to Plan...And Ultimately Let Go

Reflecting at one of the highest points in Phnom Penh

Much of my time in Cambodia has been overshadowed by a complete lack of control. I go to great lengths to explain something; clothes at the tailor, how a report should be written, how exactly I want my house cleaned, and how I want a hamburger without mayo. Sometimes I get what I want. Sometimes I don’t. This is how it goes.

Over the past three years, there has been a handful of times when I felt this most acutely. One of those times was planning this year’s peace conference. Helping plan a conference is a challenging, but even more so cross-culturally. Cambodians have a strong opinion about how certain things must be done. I find many of these expectations ridiculous, but this is how it's done and success requires complying.

• There must be a fancy invitations addressed to the director of the organization you are inviting, and follow-up messages/invitations later on. Nothing may be handwritten, and this includes the envelope.
• There must be a certificate, even for a short workshop, which must have gold edges and must NOT be printed on just black and white. There must be ONE official looking stamp, even if it’s from Hogwarts, stamps matter, but only ONE.
• We must sit in a formal U-shaped conference setting.
• We must be provided free pens and a notebook.
• All games (including ice-breaker games) must have prizes.
• There must be games.
• The facilitator must be dressed well. The facilitator’s appearance reflects the importance of the content.
• The hotel room must have an abundance of amenities (a conference in 2011 was ruined because the hotel did not provide free toothbrushes).
• We must all be provided per diems for attending, even if you are fairly middle-class. 

For assistance with these odd social expectations, you must work closely with Cambodian counterparts. For example, after designing a colorful and modern looking certificate of participation, a colleague was quick to tell me that it was “wrong.” Two hours wasted, I went with the opulent cliché option, because that is how it’s done.

Cambodians are quick to complain; “my hotel room does not have a desk,” “my hotel room doesn’t have a mini-fridge,” “the fried rice at the restaurant was too salty,” yes, all this happened. There is a balance between trying to make people happy and just having to let go. We are guests in Cambodia. I remind myself of this constantly and the importance of respectful compliance when possible.

The second part of my plan-let-go process for this event was the content. I felt very passionate about the content and its relevance to our work. I spent days researching a perfect, simple and engaging model to share. I drafted notes, summarized articles and revised several frameworks.

Then I gave it to the Cambodian facilitator. We went through the content, discussed it, answered questions, and made additional modifications. Ultimately however, she presented this material in Khmer and I ultimately attended with no idea whatsoever was being said. It went well! But there were pieces that I wish had gone differently. This is all part of the planning and letting go.

There are things you can and cannot control. There is preemptive risk mitigation. And for all the times I’ve worked so hard to explain to my colleagues not to ask double-barreled questions in surveys, they still occasionally asked double-barreled questions! There are moments when you push for excellence and moments when you just have to let go.  In some ways I’m a teacher and in other ways I’m a student. You do your best, and then you step back, pray it goes well, and let it happen.

How to Plan a Conference (Round Two)

The peace conference 2013 was sort of my pet project (much as I enjoyed round-one). It wasn’t my project (these sorts of things are always done in committee, it’s the Mennonite way), but I grew quite attached to this project. 

This year we introduced “Do No Harm.” This tool based on Mary Anderson’s book (of the same title) to help practitioners examine how aid in conflict areas can cause more harm than good. It’s since been expanded and renamed “local capacities for peace.” We wanted to help our local partners identify resources that either connect people or divide people in areas where they work. After all, we want to leave people better than when we started to work with them. It’s much easier said than done.

Developing this material started months in advance. We boiled down ideas into simple lessons so that everyone could take away something. The process also involved finding a facilitator willing to teach the material in Khmer. We finally settled on the executive director of one of our partner organizations with a background in this material. Also, we were proud to have a female facilitator to demonstrate our support for female leaders in Cambodia (Cambodia doesn't have many women leaders). Together with her, we adapted the content further and translated parts of it.

Late August 2013, we finally pulled off the conference. We had all 14 local partners send two people with a total of 28 people across all our sectors from education to agriculture. Many had attended last year’s conference and I felt immense satisfaction as people shrieked happily upon seeing friends they had made last year. This familiarity set a comfortable relaxed tone which would have been impossible last year.

This year the conference was hosted in Sihanoukville, a location which has featured repeatedly during my Cambodian story. It’s the most popular conference destination. Cambodians like to feel they went somewhere and did something on a conference or workshop, and so we complied with this expectation.

Like last year, the workshop was held in Khmer. Our partners love this aspect of the program. It means that I cannot help with much, but you see how much more comfortable participants feel when they are speaking in their own language. Overall, they responded well to the content. Many of the urban participants working in peacebuilding seemed to grasp the ideas easily as it wasn’t too far outside concepts they were already familiar with. Some of the rural participants working in agriculture or education struggled with a theoretical framework that didn’t seem immediately applicable to their daily work. For this reason, we may need to do a follow-up, or break the content down even further (the challenge of working with so many partners with such varied backgrounds!).

However, people loved the fellowship of the conference. We spent time at the beach together and friendships were forged or furthered over seafood and fried rice. One afternoon we played group games on the beach which entertained the conference participants and others watching on the beach. 

Overall, it was a fantastic learning experience. The continuing political instability plaguing us since the July elections didn’t dissuade attendance, as feared. Conferences take a lot of work to organize and to further complicate things, Cambodians have a lot of expectations. Balancing preferences with a small budget and logistical realities is an art which I prefer to avoid entirely. But when it comes to reflecting on impact and strategies for doing-no-harm, it always makes for a good time. 

How to Visit Diamond Island

Some of Diamond Islands Wonders

I’ve been meaning to write about Diamond Island. It’s a odd Cambodian development projects I’ve felt sporadically compelled to follow because it’s so utterly bizarre to me. It's bizarre because you wouldn't see this in the West, and because the money and motivations behind it feel mysterious and possibly questionable.

China is somewhat famous for its planned cities; entire cities built from scratch on a grid designed to be hyper-modern but end up mostly uninhabited. There same desire for modern planned cities has pervaded the Cambodian elite and provided the seed for Diamond Island. The project is funded by the Cambodian elite with Chinese money.

Diamond Island is built into the Mekong River. It began on silt and is continually being expanded into the river though land reclamation. When I arrived in Cambodia three years, there were large conference halls used for weddings (labeled A-F), and some benches along the four-lane roads. There was a park of Greek-like statues, and some Korean-like fast-food joints. Less than three weeks after I arrived, there was a stampede on a bridge to the island. That bridge was later torn down (to displace the bad spirits) and two new bridges were built to provide more access to the island.

Since then, Diamond Island has expanded. There is a theater, several expo halls, a driving range, a gym, a water park, a “city hall” and two small children's amusement parks. There are significant housing plans; high-end housing for the 3% with subdivision names such as “Elite Town.” Some homes are styled after turn-of-the-century Paris complete with bell towers. More plans are in process; skyscrapers clearly modeled off Singapore’s Marina Bay Sands.

On evenings and weekends, the youth of Phnom Penh come to Diamond Island in full force to drive the wide streets on their motos. This is how you should visit Diamond Island, driving around on a moto in order to be seen while your hair blows in the muggy air. Many of the roads are lined with trees and park benches. These benches are the only place that I know of in Phnom Penh where young couples come to engage in some G-rated physical contact. Families set up picnics on the concrete or in the parking lots and hang out (there’s not much grass in this very Asian development project).

Diamond Island stands out to me because the services available on this premise are completely random; a driving range? Secondly, there is little “Cambodian” about it. The architecture is European or simply concrete blocks. There are no beautiful things based on old things. Also, the money comes from China and it's built by Chinese companies. 

From what I can understand, many Cambodians see this space as a sign of a shiny impending modernity. Even while they will never live in such housing in their lifetimes, even while 80% of the population is rural and poor, Diamond Island is considered beautiful and new. For now, such opulence signals a possible better future.

Will this be a success? If you build it, will they come? Will I return in 10 years to skyscrapers and women in authentic Prada? Or will one bad flood on the Mekong wash this entire project out to sea? Who knows. I wonder if anyone knows. 

How Social Media Changed Elections

A new methods of connectedness emerging.

Perhaps you've heard rumors of how social media is replacing traditional news forums. I'm a serious online news person, I live online, but even for me, the idea of social media as the way of the future seemed ridiculous. Until July 2013.

Cambodia ranks very low on freedom of expression. The government controls most of the Khmer language newspapers and TV stations and tightly restricts publication. When major opposition leader San Rainsy returned from exile, tens of thousands of people flooded the streets blocking major city roads, throwing Phnom Penh into hysteria. Instead of reporting on this massive news story, the news channels played cooking shows and music videos, immune to the reality that the political balance of power was in jeopardy. 

With TV and print locked down, smaller voices must find alternative methods of spreading messages. In the internet age, this is amazingly possible. The Cambodian opposition quickly realized the potential and popularity of Facebook. The ruling party for whatever reason hasn't learned to leverage this tool the same way. Much has been written about the role of Twitter in the Arab Spring. Twitter hasn’t caught on in Cambodia. However, Facebook is by far the most popular website and people use it avidly, particular youth. Major events are shared in real-time; photos, videos, articles and others. 

The elections saw Facebook take off in a shocking way and promoting massive civic engagement. Cambodians were excellent photographing “irregularities” and sharing these images online. Eventually, I learned which feeds to follow and I learned about events and movements that would otherwise have gone unreported. I started logging into Twitter's #electionkh daily to get the scoop. Deliberately searching out news online via social media still feels foreign, but I'm amazed by this possibility. 

Someone pointed out that news from social media isn’t impartial; that it comes unverified with biases. There is merit to this criticism  The internet is full of crazies with uncorroborated stories, like that guy on that website who tells you that that aliens have infiltrated your vacuum cleaner. Formal journalism is vetted and researched for validity, which can’t be said of the guy who posts on Twitter (or even me as a blogger).

However, in a country where the scales are so overwhelmingly tipped in the favor of a single party, you have no option but to collect whatever information possible from whatever sources. You must take government news with a grain of salt. You take social media news with a grain of salt. Somewhere in there, the truth is probably still missing, but at least you know the rumors. 

This post is for Cambodian Elections 2013

Last Sunday, Cambodia went to the polls. National elections only happen once every five years. This one was big. This one is still not resolved.

Cambodia has a King but he is only a figurehead. The real power rests with the Prime Minister. The current prime minster has been in power almost 30 years. He is currently the seventh longest sitting head of state (who is not a monarch). The current Prime Minister has stated he will be Prime Minister until his mid-70s. Currently, he's 60.

Cambodia has been a functionally a one-party system since 1993. This party is known as the Cambodian People's Party or CPP. For a brief time, a royalist party rose to prominence and there was a power-sharing deal, but this lasted for a year before a violent power struggle returned the country to a single-party/leader system. The current party receives heat for human rights and corruption abuses. The opposition parties never succeeded at amassing momentum or providing a strong alternative voice. It's an uphill battle for them to put a few people in parliament.

This election, there was plenty of drama, with both parties suggesting a return to civil war if they didn't win. The opposition parties merged into one single opposition party, the Cambodia National Rescue Party, known as the CNRP. The had a rocky start but they were powered forward by the return of the exiled opposition leader San Rainsy. Rainsy is a darling for his vocal speech against the current system. While a conflicted man, he is the face of the opposition. His return just days before the election (he was granted a royal pardon for supposedly politically motivated crimes), propelled thousands of people into the streets and was followed up by energetic rallies and thousands of supporters. It was the most momentum the opposition has seen in it's history.

Formal campaigning may only occur for one month. The month was fever pitch and only grew in intensity. Both parties had supporters out on motos by the hundreds in t-shirts and flags chanting their slogans. There were billboards and stickers over a meter long on cars. The CPP has vastly more resources, renting flat-bed trucks with live music driving around town. They also set up concerts at markets, and decorated their district offices like it was Christmas. The CPP controls most of the media, but the CNRP controlled social media in one of the most fascinating sociological phenomenons of the election.

Last weekend you could taste the passion in the air, sort of like a football match where it could blow at any moment. Thankfully, it did not. People went back to their home provinces and voted, emptying out the city. With one minor situation, the election occurred peacefully.

However, the CNRP did extremely well! They garnered 55 parliamentary seats (up from 22) to the CPP's 68. Now people are worried. Investigations are being demanded. The outcome is uncertain. The lesson seems to be that life isn't fair. We can only wait and see.

How People Leave

The time we go on holidays together.

I often found myself using the metaphor of "merry-go-rounds" or carousels. I used this metaphor regularly back in 2008 and I still use it today. Funny thing is, I never much went to amusement parks or rode the rides. But there is something about the carousel that routinely and perfectly captures the moment. Such as the moment right now of farewells. 

The hardest part of living overseas is the goodbyes. A massive blessing in this life if the easy ability to form very meaningful friendships very quickly. I've made lasting and rich friendships with the most unexpected people within weeks or months. But then, people leave. When you're already flying solo without your family, it can sting more than expected.

Cambodia has been a beautiful and positive experience for me almost solely because of the people I've met. I like Cambodia itself, but I love the people I've met here who took an "interesting experience" and made it fantastic. There is nothing that makes you feel more at home than to text people on a week night and plan an impromptu activity. There is nothing quite so special as your weekly book clubs, monthly breakfast clubs, oddly themed birthday parties, game night marathons, musical themed evenings with accompanying films, and a never ending lunches. There are the joys of planning a holiday, and the even greater joys of going on the holidays. 

I have so many people to appreciate I don't know where to begin. I can only say thank you. Thanks for listening to me when I was upset, for loyalties in changing situations, and for letting me into your own fascinating world. 

My social world has been slowing falling apart for some time now. The people I like are slowly trickling out, one at a time. It can be an emotional wreck as you spend time with people; knowing they are leaving soon and knowing you won't see them in a while builds the pressure to make every moment meaningful. Than they go. And you wake up, wish they were around, and somehow just keep swimming. I've done this many times already for Cambodia, and will continue to do it as people trickle out.

I think I like merry-go-rounds because they are nonlinear. Though I'm a largely logical rational person who likes moving from Point-A to Point-B, our world is neither rational nor organized. Especially with relationships, things rarely move in stright linear lines but that's what can make them so fantastic. I will see Cambodia people again because the world is small and I'm hopeful. But for now, it's a little sad not to have them in my day-to-day life.

"On this broken merry go 'round and 'round and 'round we go

Where it stops nobody knows and it ain't slowin' down.

This merry go 'round." -KM

How Cambodia Changes your Behavior

Cambodia in an anomaly in my overseas dwelling repertoire for multiple reasons, one of which is that I've been here so long compared with other former homes. Three years feels long some days. Other days it seems like I just moved here. But I have noticed some slight changes in my behaviors which I attribute to living here for multiple years. Humans are known to be incredibly adaptive.  

• Comfortable talking about weight and money. These are not social taboos. I often receive comments on my size. I have also learned that I can throw those questions right back, "how many kilos are you?" Probably 75% of people in my social networks know how much my apartment costs per month. I also ask them how much their apartment (or house) cost. It's likely I will continue making comments about weight and cost without realizing this is rude.
• Comfortable shoving people if they shove me first. When I go to the market, people shove me. The spaces are small and people want to get around you. Shoving is not offensive. At the beginning, I would get so angry I would leave markets as an act of protest. Later I realized that if I need to get through a tightly blocked space, I can push people aside as well. Now I do this, not with rage, but because I will never get through the market otherwise. Hopefully in my next residence no one comes close enough that I need to shove them. If this does happen, I will try and remember not to push. 
• Comfortable wearing flip flops to every imaginable event (especially the same pair). Before I moved here, I bought several pairs of shoes for work, including an adorable pair of plum purple loafers. I was going for the young professional vibe. Instead, I found most Cambodians wears flip flops (at least in my NGO circles). Given the streets are dirty, flooded, and the sewer backwash, this makes sense (actually gum boots make the most sense). Cambodians love the flip flop and the slide-on. In the future, if I wear flip-flops to work, you must forgive me.
• Comfortable taking shoes off when entering homes, shops, and places of work. I instinctively take off my flip-flops. In fact, I developed a phobia of bacteria carried by shoes and wash my feet immediately after coming home. This I do not expect to change. I will continue to take off my shoes at your home, though with persuasion, will leave them on at your workplace. 
• Comfortable eating rice several times a day. People warned me I would grow weary of rice. It hasn't happened yet. I will expect people to continue preparing rice for me. I will be preparing it for you.
• Comfortable asking people if they ate when first meeting them. It's a strange little quirk here. "Hello! Are you well and happy? Yes I'm well and happy. Have you eaten yet?" It's a perfectly normal social greeting, in the normal categories with "Has your home flooded this year? How are the kids? How's the partner? Have you eaten yet?" I may find myself asking you this question when we meet at the supermarket.
• Comfortable asking people if they are married and the number of children. Cambodians are quick to establish where you fall with this specific interaction ritual. Your marital status is of great importance as well as your number of offspring. I've learned that a normal encounter with a new person will inquire into their marital status, their plans for marriage, and/or their current number of children. Do not be offended if I ask this of you (I put my own Western/feminist spin on it).
• Comfortable discussing my own plans for marriage and children with complete strangers. When I plan to get married is a very routine question. (These things are very scheduled here, I jest not). For efficiency, I answer. "Maybe next year. Definitely in the next five years." It's better to give a time than explain the question is rude, and frankly I don't find it rude anymore. Also, within five years is the most truthfully logical answer and I'll go on the public record with that answer. 
• Comfortable distrusting the police and pretty much all authority figures. I've learned the police are not to be trusted and will almost always make situations worse. I've learned the government is unreliable and self-serving. I've seen good local leaders and dishonest local leaders. At the end of the day, Cambodia has taught me to mistrust almost all authority figures. It will be hard to reform my opinions in this regard.
• Comfortable saying "is it possible?" "bann tee?" or "not possible" "aut bann tee." I love these two Khmer phrases. They are used so often. When I ask for something and I receive a look of confusion, I'll ask for confirmation, "is it possible?" The answer will some back, "possible" or "not possible." (It's always "not possible" never "impossible," a little word play that never ceases to amuse me.) So when you give me a funny look after I ask you to go to Target and get me a dongle and some new trackies I will ask you "bann tee?" Just so you know the correct answer is "it's possible."
• Comfortable in PJs in public. Cambodians often wear pajamas in public. They are modest two-piece "matchy-matchys" typically a floral or cartoon pattern (lately Angry Birds has been the rage). Consider them like lounge wear! Now I own matchy matchys and wear them to the local convince store (my rule is no more than one kilometer beyond my apartment). I don't think I'll have trouble giving up this habit, but you never know.
• Comfortable never cooking Asian food. Between my helper (who deserves her own point of awesomeness) and the fact I can walk down the street for Khmer food that cost less than $2, why would I ever cook Asian food? Frankly, why would I ever cook? If I'm going to cook, I cook pasta or tacos, things I can't get readily or cheaply. Unfortunately, now I'm in a head-space where preparing any sort of Asian food is morally repugnant. So sorry, but I will not cooking Khmer food for you.

I'm sure there are may other quirky things that I do, some by choice and some by immersion in multiple odd places. But I do strongly believe in the importance of making yourself comfortable in the place you like, which inherently involves a little adaption. 

How to Road Trip Khmer Style

So many tasty delights

Cambodian road tripping is one of the many particularities of life here. I wish I could appropriately calculate the hours spent road tripping.

Most Cambodians do not have a car. Many (possibly most) have moto-scooters. However, driving several hundred kilometers on a moto which top out at around 80 KPH is not ideal on two-lane roads along with the trucks transporting goods, is just not ideal. Cambodia has a very functional bus and van system. The buses are secondhand from China, Japan, and Korea and the system is fairly efficient, though slow. Fares are always low, even if you want to pay for extra space and AC. The vans which would normally seat 12 in a developed country seat closer to 24 people. With a bus, you are guaranteed your individual seat. Karaoke music videos are non-negotiable for any trip. Most bus services will offer individual pick-ups and drop-offs. This is nice when you're being picked up from your hotel and dropped at your office. It's not so nice when everyone else (and the rice cooker bought by the bus driver for his auntie) gets the same service. Alas, it is what it is!

What you must always expect on a Khmer bus is that you will stop many times. There is little premium placed on efficiency. For one, the roads are in such a condition that you can't go much faster than 60mph to begin with. It's only downhill from there [ex: a trip from Phnom Penh to Sihnoukville is 185 kilometers yet takes five hours]. Expect to stop every 1.5 hours. The rest stops will vary from a simple toilet stop (20 minutes) to a full on meal break (30 minutes).

Khmer rest stops offer something so unique that I'll remember them for a long time. An obvious feature is the restrooms which vary from two to 20 stalls. These are always "squatty potty," rarely sanitary or well lit. Soap is rarely provided. Tissue is never provided.

The second memorable thing is a the food offered. You can purchase from two options.

• "Inorganics:" Crisps, various biscuits, various Asian processed snack items (the majority of which are shrimp flavored and with Chinese script), soft drinks, energy drinks, various Asian canned drinks ("glass jelly drink," winter-melon justice, birds-nest drink, etc.), and the like.
• "Organics:" Fried crickets, fried spiders, hard boiled eggs, duck embryo, charcoal roasted bananas, green mango, pamelo, pineapple, boiled peanuts, coconut jelly, rice in a bamboo stick with beans and the like.

Occasionally, you will need to eat at larger meal at rest stop. Larger rest stops will have a menu you can order from. They will serve a standard array of Khmer dishes; fried rice, fried noodles, chicken soup, spicy soup, etc. Smaller rest stops offer a Khmer variation on "fast food;" pots of prepared Khmer soups and sauces which come with a plate of rice and a side of bacteria. These pots are normally sitting out for some time. I have a phobia of "pots stops" but I have eaten from them at least once.

In the end, Cambodia is certainly underdeveloped, but in terms of public transport, the systems do exist. You just have to accept that it will take a while. Accidents are fairly rare, which makes no sense but I'm not complaining. At the end of the day, I will miss the ability to hop on a bus and go anywhere. In this regard, Cambodia has provided me huge freedom.

How to Visit Kirrirom

I tried to only take happy photos

My partner often schedules team-building activity days. Last year we went to Odong Mountain (where I saw the body of a mummified monk...long story). This year Kirrirom was chosen. As it so happened, Kirrirom was also on my "must see before leaving list." Kirrirom means "Happy Mountain" which might be the reason I was instantly attached to the idea of visiting.

There are several national parks in Cambodia. My colleagues cannot seem to name that many, which might be an indication of other issues. Kirrirom seems to be the most popular. It's about two hours south towards the beach. In the Cardamom Mountains means that there are something akin to hills which served as hideouts during the Khmer Rouge.

We went on the worst day possible. It was rainy and drizzly and I was cold and grumpy (anything below 80F makes me cold and grumpy). My first impression was absolute awe at seeing pine trees. My second impression was that the location was littered with rubbish.

We drove directly to a waterfall picnic area. Picnic areas in Cambodia are very different from what I wish they were. They are little sheds with more little sheds close by where people live and prepare food for these picnics. It's more like a restaurant. The waterfall had been renovated with surrounding bungalows where you could pay to use the space and have food prepared. These people are trying to make a living so I'm empathetic. Viable traces of so many people living in this area is highly noticeable, particularly because trash collection services do not extend to national parks and because they cut down park trees to build all the local structures. Many of the park dwellers pick the wildflowers to make wreathes which are sold to visitors (including my colleagues).

We sat in these bungalows while it drizzled. We paid the park residence to prepare a lunch for us. We played some team building activities. Later I went on a walk (accompanied, because colleagues are always concerned with my safety). I admired the trees and found myself increasingly angry by the rubbish sprawled everywhere and the clearly missing trees. Thankfully, my walking companion colleague shared my angst.

The experience of this park would not have been nearly so memorable if I hadn't been reading Collapse by Jared Diamond at the same time. This 525+ page treatise explores why societies choose to fail or succeed; Easter Island, Rwanda, Greenland, Iceland, among others (the Angkor Kingdom included!). The common denominator for all these societies was ecological mismanagement. Easter Island completely deforested the island. Greenland wouldn't switch to a local meat source. Iceland destroyed the ecosystem via sheep farming. Rwanda mismanaged their farmland. The resounding message is this: You run the risk of destruction if you don't protect your natural resources.

Reading about Iceland while looking at the heaps and heaps of rubbish inside a national park was upsetting. Is this where Cambodia is headed? They lost their Angkoran superpower status to deforestation and bad water management. Even today, Cambodia struggles with conservation. Current hot issues are mostly resource-based; evictions, rapidly expanding agribusiness, air and water pollution, and factory runoff. It's painful to see, and painful to think of the long-term consequences. When people are living on the edge, the slightest shift can push them even further.

So, an excellent day in my Cambodia adventures. An unexpectedly educational day. It wasn't completely a "happy mountain" but there is ever so much potential. The goal was the build a stronger team. Well, I slightly ruined that slouched behind a massive book.

How everything is not ok: Cambodia Confessions

A good part of Cambodia: My balcony.

I have loved living in Cambodia. I have my moments (who doesn't), but overall it's been a pleasure. I haven't fallen in love with Cambodia the way I've loved other places, but I've warmed up to Asia and I will absolutely return. 

When I arrived, I knew I was going to be here for three years. I couldn't let everything bother me. I learned to either process my frustrations or ignore them. Now with the end in sight, I'm allowing myself to admit my secret anger. Making this list was therapeutic. Now I can admit....everything has not been ok.

Things which make me extremely angry that I've been suppressing for three years.

Very frustrating

• This climate. Chronically sticky, chronically dehydrated. It's so miserable 50 weeks out of the year.
• No parks. Where should I picnic? Where do I go to see trees?
• Weddings/Funerals. I've not been good suppressing this specific point of frustration. I will never understand why people block public roads for loud and private events. 
• Sidewalks turned into parking lots. Where am I supposed to walk?
• Motodups. No. I don't want a moto taxi or a taxi. Ask me again and I'll tell you the same.
• 
  

Somewhat Irritating

• People answering their phones when I'm speaking to them. This is perfectly normal and not disrespectful whatsoever in an otherwise painfully polite country. I've waited up to 15 minutes for people to finish their phone calls while sitting patiently. 
• Sheer women's tops without a tank top underneath. This one I just don't understand. In an otherwise conservative society, even older women do this. Does this mean we're comfortable with our bodies? It drives me crazy.
• Khmer music videos on buses. If I never hear another sad music video where someone dies at the end on a battered bus for the rest of my life, I will be happy.
• Personal questions. Please stop telling me what you think of my weight. I makes me uncomfortable. Please stop asking about when I'm getting married. Must you publicly comment on my facial acne?
• Sour soup. It's wrong. 
• Acronyms. Everything must have an acronym. Also, the acronyms are always in English when English isn't all that common. Speaking in the code of acronyms does not feel as space age as you'd think.
• Exercise limitations. I just want to walk, bike, run... There are no places to do this without fearing for your life, and without being the target of gaping stares. 

Less this post be entirely negative, I've also made a list of things that no longer bother me. 

Things so normal I don't notice them

• Squat toilets. Not a big deal.
• Traffic. 95% of the time, whatever.
• Getting stuck in a downpour. Pull over, buy a 35 cent "raincoat" keep going. No biggy. 
• Rice. Twice a day on average, not a problem.
• Looking bad. Helmet hair, sweat stains, mascara sliding off my face...part and parcel. 
• Seeing women exercising in the gym in heels. Not a problem.
• Construction noise. It all fades into the horizon. 
• Two currencies. Paying for items in a mix of US dollars and Khmer riel, effortless.
• PJs in public. Why not wear my Cambodian "matchy-matchy's" to the corner store?

Oh Cambodia. You have been good to me. You amuse me constantly. In all my whinging, life has been good. 

This Post is for Three

I really, really, really like my privacy. You wouldn't think so as a blogger, but we are all filled with ironies.

When it comes to relationships, I'm more private than usual. Early on, the existence of this person had to be virtually dragged out of me and I secretly resented it. If there's anything I resent, it's being told how I should feel or should behave. I resented being told long-distance relationships are so difficult and I resented the raised eyebrows.

A part of life and relationships is learning to be comfortable with yourself. When it comes to my profession or living locations, I'm extremely confident in my unorthodox choices. In fact, I have this blog where I make snarky self-deprecating and self-righteous comments on this. Yet when it comes to relationships, I can wilt under social pressure. The lesson for year three has been that I'm allowed to be confident in my decision. "This is the person I choose. Yes, we live in different countries. We have lasted all this time. Yes, I still choose him." I remind myself that it doesn't matter. What matters is that something phenomenal exists with someone else that withstands time and space. And for what it's worth, outlasting the impossible is rewarding.

So...three years? Two countries? Two different stories that we somehow intertwine? It's not for everyone. But sometimes you meet someone you can't let go; someone who tolerates the ups and downs, the self-deprecation and the pity, the ongoing narrative of you trying to identify yourself among all the places you've called home and will call home, someone who genuinely appreciates your story, who meets you half way.

For three years with this remarkable person, I would do it over again gladly. Our narrative oddly fits with the narrative of my life. Like my personal narrative, as confusing, indirect, or inefficient as it is, I wouldn't trade it.

How this is life

Southern Cambodia

It strikes me sometimes that I'm a "lifer." Others are sick of Asia, sick of Asian countries, sick of the whole blah blah experience. People I know feel like this. They want/need to go home. I respect that. Honestly, I'm quite done with the climate, the sour soups and can we all agree the sidewalks are for walking and not for driving? We are all different. We all have different strategies of meeting our needs and different currents run through our veins. 

But if I look within myself...this is my life. This is how I live. The notion that I must move to my home country and "settle down" is intensely irritating. I don't do this because I "have the travel itch," or because I want to save the world. I do this because this is who I am, and where I find my heart and soul. I could sooner change my shoe size or my inadequate height. One can grow sick of a country, but one will always seek adventure because one cannot change one's heart and soul. You don't expect it to be easy, but you are compelled to continue. Even though it doesn't make sense, it so clearly does. My goals are relatively simple...live in a francophone country, live in Indonesia, live in Iceland, visit everything else. I don't know what the future holds, but it's a series of adventures to cherish, beautiful places to see and unexpected people to love. It will be perfect.

After so many beautiful and unique and remarkable places...I'm a lifer. 

How We Change (But Not Really)

Back in 2008, I was obsessed with Aristotle and Greek tragedy. I was in love with the style of the narrative; a hero of noble birth who is succumbed by his one character flaw causing a spectacular demise. I thought about Greek tragedy again recently. I'm attracted to the idea of a noble hero with a fatal flaw. Is a possible for a society to have a collective flaw?

Living in Cambodia, I meet people who seem quite Western values and ideas. They no longer use domestic violence, they overcome alcoholism, they educate their children well, they value democracy and free speech, they respect the poor, they are family people and involved in community service. But if Cambodia has one fatal flaw, it's racism. 

Cambodia and Vietnam have a complicated history. Both were superpowers at some stage during which they dominate the other. They seized land which went back and forth for centuries. The French lumped them together and split up the land haphazardly, which was later battered back and forth during the complicated Cold War era. In 1979, Communist Vietnam invaded Cambodia to debunk the genocidal Khmer Rouge Regime. The West calls this a "liberation," the end of the genocide. Many Cambodians call it "occupation," the invasion of a long-hated enemy. The Vietnamese stayed for 10 years until 1989 when the UN took over. The bitterness from my perspective seems somewhat one sided. Vietnam has bigger problems than their poor little neighbor, except when it comes to those islands off the coast. 

This bitter history is recalled in excruciating detail. It's reinforced and routinely exploited, particularly around border issues since there are some islands still up for dispute. Leaders stir up nationalism routinely by reminding their constituents they are one step from Vietnamese clearing them off the map. The racism comes up in normal conversation. All the prostitutes are Vietnamese, I'm told in completely seriousness. All the thieves are Vietnamese. All the cheap products are from Vietnam. An unset stomach is called "Vietnamese stomach." The Vietnamese make coffee with dirty laundry water at their restaurants. The Vietnamese-Khmer shouldn't be allowed to vote.

There is simply no way for us to comprehend this deeply held resentment. I don't have a comparable situation. Every country has their despised immigrants. That doesn't make it any easier, particularly when observing people who have made such progress on their sexism and classism.

I suppose we don't have to be an Aristotelian noble to have a fatal flaw. We just have to be human. You cannot undo centuries of hate overnight. You cannot pretend you understand because you don't. Instead, we celebrate the victories, and think about how to continue building peace in other areas. My country, no country is perfect. We all have our fatal flaws. We can hope they do not become our undoing.

How to Visit Kampot

Kampot Cambodia

Pepper from Kampot is famous. I'm probably like many Americans. I did not grow up thinking pepper was a very exciting spice. Pepper from Kampot will change your mind. It's strong and pungent and flavorful. The only thing I did not do in Kampot was visit a pepper farm. This doesn't grieve me, but I should have done that.

Kampot produces pepper, but is otherwise a fairly sleepy little town and quiet province. It's on a beautiful peaceful river. It's near the famous Bokhor Mountain. It's close to the coast. It has "The Rusty Keyhole" with the best ribs in all of Cambodia. For many of my expat connections, Kampot is a favorite getaway spot and it does have that laid back former-French colony charm that makes for a relaxing long weekend. I can attest now, it's a wonderful long weekend trip.

My first (and presumably last) trip to Kampot was for my third and final organizational retreat. A four-day retreat in Kampot is a new way of organizing our retreats, but a trip to a new place is not something I will whinge about.

Some highlights/recommendations include the following:

• Staying on the river. We stayed at a beautiful little guest house owned my a Frenchmen right on the river which flowed past us into Kampot town and into the ocean. It's a tidal river, so it was exciting seeing the currents change over time. In the late evening, the fishing boats chug down towards the ocean and early in the morning, they chug back inland with the most deafening sounds. You can swim in the river! I did, but still did not dare submerge my head.
• Kayaking on the river. I have recently discovered the joys of the kayak. I do enjoy this exercise, especially on a beautiful river as calm as glass with ever shifting currents. I went with a colleague who loves birding. I have never experienced this activity, but found it surprising relaxing to paddle along the coast while she quested for birds. A new and rewarding experience.
• Rusty Keyhole. I'm not a great meat lover, but these were the tastiest ribs I've ever consumed. They convinced a former and aspiring vegetarian to enjoy a giant piece of meat. I ate until I was sick, and then continued to eat. I will never, ever, ever do that again, but it was the right thing to do at the moment.
• Modern dance. There is an organization in Kampot that teaches modern dance and sign language to deaf children and youth. They are the only group of this nature in Cambodia. One evening, we went for a performance. The most enjoyable part was watching the complete amazement on the faces of our national staff. It is unprecedented. 
• Ocean time. We drove to the ocean one afternoon for swimming in a beautiful infinity pool at a high-end resort. The rain was threatening most the time and made beautiful sky formations. I walked out of their red boardwalk and admired the ocean and the world around me. Cambodia has beautiful pockets of nature. You forget this in the concrete chaos that is Phnom Penh. There are moments where you are overwhelmed with gratitude.

How to become truly beautiful [Khmer style]

Being Beautiful.

What constitutes beauty? This question has kept philosophers going for ages. I will admit in terms of appearances I hold tightly to Western ideals of self-expression; whatever makes you happy! (as long as you're clothed in public). The idea of looking "natural" is somewhat prized. Even when Western women are painted up, they still look largely like themselves.

And then there is Cambodia. It's a bit like Marie Antoinette's France, except the wigs are not as tall. One is feminine, docile, has long fake lashes and perfect white skin.

In Cambodia, before one's wedding, a couple gets photos done wearing formal rented garments (even at the wedding, one rents the garments). It's comparable to the "engagement photo" ritual of North America. Both the western white ballgown, Khmer apparel, and prom-eque attire, or a combination of these options occurs in a variety of formal staged traditional poses. The photos are shared with others, and one is enlarged to the size of a movie poster and displayed at the entrance of your wedding. Expats can participate in this ritual for sheer amusement. One walks into a photo place and requests to take these photos. You choose the outfit. Everything else is determined for you. For some reason, it's just brilliant.

1. Makeup. You sit on a backless stool in front of a makeup artist and you are painted, caked in foundation, given fake eyelashes and made to look so unlike yourself that you startle every time you look in the mirror. The makeup takes a good hour. 
2. Hair. It is teased and expanded and crimped for extra volume. You will be given fake hair to allow the illusion of feminine cascading curls. Bouffants and tiaras are especially popular. This takes at least 45 minutes. 
3. Costuming. You are pinned into your outfit (after they build bigger hips on you) and bejeweled with entirely matching bling. I went with a blue outfit. The earrings, the shoes, the necklace, the bracelets, the hair sparklers all matched accordingly. Once you are pinned in, you can't breathe properly but you are sa'at naah. This is the stage where if you had a male partner, he would have his outfit thrown on and within 10 minutes would be ready. 
4. Photography. You are photographed in front of a green screen. The photographer positions you perfectly right down to the fingertips; shoulders back, back arched, head tilted. You feel like a cross between a drag queen and a Jersey Shore wedding attendee. You feel the most unnatural possible. While I enjoyed my massive bouffant (it was so huge!), I questioned the sociological implications of the process.
5. Conclusions. When finished with the photography, your hair and makeup people wipe you down with washcloths and reclaim the jewels and false hair. You feel relief that you can breathe again, and a little nostalgic that the process is completed because it was rather amusing. 

You claim your photos a few days later. Various Khmer backdrops have been photo-shopped in and your skin has been so whitened that you look like a china doll. It's awesome. Because no where else would this happen. You choose at that moment to forgo social analysis and just enjoy the product for what it is. After all, we do weird stuff in North America as well.

How cynicism is a rite of passage

Finding a rainbow in the midst of a cynical day

Not long ago I went to a network forum. At the table was me, four Cambodians and another expat woman. We were discussing positive changes in Cambodia. We discussed various positive health related stats before the expat woman insisted that we should celebrate the increase of wealth in Cambodia. The tension was remarkably noticeable. It was explained to her that this new Khmer wealth is concentrated within a certain class. She insisted, we should celebrate the rising wealth, and insisted we write it down on our flip-chart paper. Thankfully the session was over before it got even more uncomfortable. It was sometime thereafter I realized that to be a true Cambodian expat, the sign of someone who's put their time in, is a deep unabashed cynicism. 

While hardly a badge of honor, cynicism is in some odd way comforting. It means you've been here long enough to know a little bit (emphasis on, a little bit). You know the game and the players and you feel entitled to make some generalizations. There is a certain comradery to the experience. Cynicism is an unfortunate byproduct of actually reading recommended material and the newspaper. It's a byproduct of working in the peacebuilding fields, the people most aware of the problems. Cynicism comes from looking at other post-conflict countries; Vietnam has Starbucks, Japan has bullet trains, South Korea has Samsung, and Cambodia has...low tech garment factories. The longer you're here, the sadder it becomes, the less it makes sense, it feels so unjust, and the more cynical you become.

Here's just the tip of the iceberg of Cambo-cynicism:

• Declining space for political dissent 
• Continuing political theater
• Corruption 
• Poor communities physically removed from their land in order to make space for commercial agriculture and urban development
• High rates of domestic abuse and child abuse
• Human trafficking, including child trafficking
• Dangerous work environments in the garment industry
• Failed prosecution of Khmer Rouge leaders 
• Continued regional animosity over land rights
• Unabashed racism
• An awful climate [Constant heat breeds bitterness. Try it. I dare you.]

I don't want to be cynical. In no way is this a virtue. But I struggle endlessly with the nagging fear that we're doing everything wrong. Maternal mortality and HIV/AIDS numbers have gone down in recent years. There are good things! But it's just so slow and so many people are hurt in the status quo. 

The best I can do is leave my anger at the door of my office, to nurture things which bring me joy, and to routinely leave in order to gain perspective. When one becomes hopeless, one needs to go home. Hopelessness does harm. Instead, we strive to be patient, gracious, and open-minded. I'm looking for a hurricane of change instead of appreciating the whispers. There are whispers that will continue beyond my short stint here. While there is still so much pain under the surface, so many unaddressed problems...well...we choose not to loose hope anyway...and try to keep that cynicism in check.

How to address anyone

When moving to any new place, it takes adjustment to grasp the social protocol for addressing people. First name basis? Last name basis? The intricacies of Miss and Ms., brother, sister? I wish I had more closely documented this phenomenon when I lived in other places, but then again, I never recall it being as complex as it is in Cambodia.

I've noticed that it's fairly rare to use someone's name when addressing them. I haven't found a convincing explanation for this. Instead, we use a complicated system of addressing each other based on each other's age relative to yours. You don't call Sue, "Sue," but maybe Bong or Ming, or Om. In a hierarchical culture, addressing other with the correct respectful term is important. It seems to effortless for Cambodians. For many foreigners when slapped with this system, it's slightly overwhelming. However, you too can get the hang of it and as a foreigner, your mistakes are more comical than offensive. 

• PaOWN: This gender-neutral term is used to address children. If you see a child, call them this. Can be shortened to "own."

• Bong: Use this with your contemporaries and it's considered gender neutral. Supposedly from women to men it's a term of endearment, but have observed otherwise. You can call the gas station attendant or you waiter/waitress bong.  If you are close with someone even when a five/seven year age gap, you would probably go with this term.

• Ming: Woman "auntie" between 30-50ish? If you think you are younger than the woman, then go with this term.

• Ome: Older auntie, as in your mother's contemporary. If I recall correctly, it's a term of endearment from a man to his wife (I don't know of one going the other way).

• Puu: Uncle, for all men who are older than you and younger than your grandfather. At my partner organization, we call the director this term for additional respect.

• Taa: Grandfather. Obvious.

• YeyYey: Grandmother. Thankfully, also obvious.

• Lookru: Respected male elder. When you want to be extra respectful, you go with this term instead of Puu or Taa. 

When translating these terms into English, my colleagues most often go with "brother" or "sister" which is interesting because those are two terms I don't think are used otherwise. However, it's source of personal joy when I'm called "Bong Grace" by my colleagues. It means I'm one of the guys.

How to Mix Wedding Cultures

A whole day of festivities

This isn't entirely my post to write. It's my friend Rach. She is the one who got married and the one who executed the social event of the season. But I loved it, and it was very Khmer (as is her husband) and very Aussie (as is she) at the same time and for that reason, I learned a lot.

Things I learned from this amazing experience.

1. A wedding is an all day event. Started at 7am-noon and 5:30pm-10:30pm. 
2. Allow people to go home and nap mid-day. A good wedding should have a nap.
3. Serve breakfast and lunch and dinner at your wedding.
4. Never drive a motobike in a silk skirt. It will wrinkle.
5. Borrow said skirt and matching fancy top from a work colleague. Otherwise, you can buy one at the market pre-made for $35 or get one made for around $70.
6. Have your guests wear traditional Khmer wedding attire for the morning ceremonies. 
7. A fruit parade is a fabulous thing. Line up two-by-two with matching fruit platters behind the groom and his family and parade to the bride's family to whom the fruit is presented. If they like the gift of fruit (as thankfully, was the case), the wedding may proceed. 
8. Have the parents follow a Khmer tradition of a tea ceremony, drinking tea together while surveying the fruit. Follow all this up with a Western-style ceremony.
9. Have a duel language Western-style wedding service. Everything in English, and then in Khmer, and have it be effortlessly seamless. 
10. Host a wedding in a context where all the women get their hair done professionally (and such a service costs $5) and naturally, everyone does, and that's just how it is. 
11. As a guest, make two costume changes. If part of the wedding party, make three (actually four) changes. 
12. Serve the tastiest Cambodian food of all time. 
13. Dance to Khmer live Cambodia music. For a sample of this, check here. Have all your guests from Cambodia, Australia and everywhere else dancing enthusiastically for hours despite the April heat. 
14. Include a champagne fountain.
15. Don't get stressed about it. Don't obsess about all the details. Smile and go with the flow. This is a great life lesson.

How to Visit Koh Mok

Thai Island Perfection

Khmer New Year is the epic holiday of Spring (or Hot Season, depending on where you are). Expat friends start asking what you're doing for the holidays starting end of February. Khmer colleagues head home to the province to spend time with family (KNY is like Christmas). This year I decided to go with Koh Mok (also known as Koh Mak), the result of extensive research; ie. google, TripAdvisor, texting.

Koh Mok is a Thai island of the coast of Thailand and Cambodia. Koh Mok is a quiet, seasonally populated report island that puts some effort into conservation. It attracts clientele a step-up from scuzzy youthful backpackers (there is also a ban on power water toys such as jet-skis).

To start the adventure, we departed at 6am from Phnom Penh in a hired car. We went southwest then northwest to Koh Kong in the Cambodian border with Thailand, arriving at approximately 11:30am. After an early lunch, we crossed the border on foot and got on a mini bus to Trat. This was approximately 70 minutes driving. From Trat, we got on a little renovated covered pick-up or "tuk truck" to make the ferry. This was where the fun began.

Traveling internationally [credit: google-maps]

Thailand and Cambodia share the same New Year (in addition to International New Year and possibly both celebrating Chinese New Year). In Thailand, the holiday is marked with a three day long water war. (Cambodia had the same custom until it was banned several years ago when idiots began substituting acid.) In Thailand, children and young adults drive around in pick up trucks with 50 gallon drums of water, throwing water at every passerby; cars, motorbikes, bikes, pedestrians, and especially other kids in pick-up trucks. This is often followed by throwing flour which sticks to everything wet. People set up drums outside their homes and also throw water at those passing by. This being Southeast Asia, people are wearing jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, and other water-heavy items of clothing. Many had water guns, clearly cherished for this beloved day. Sadly, for obvious reasons, I have no photos of this these event.

On our way from Trat in our "tuk truck," we had the misfortune traversing a road lined with kids in pick-up trucks. The trucks were moving at 2 kilometers an hour so the water throwing occurred in slow-motion with shrieks of delight. There might have been 60 trucks with kids crammed in the back. Beer and other beverages were flowing from nearby carts (the owners were soaked), and a fire hydrant must have been disabled for this event as it gushed unrestrained for happy youths to refill their drums. Needless to say, we crammed our bags into the cab of the "tuk truck" and resigned to the water and flour. Surely enough 15 minutes later, we were completely soaked.

Making it to the ferry, completely soaked but with our valuables dry, we climbed aboard a ferry for Koh Mok. It was a refurbished speedboat which sat 30 people. Our trip along the gulf passing other islands took about 50 minutes, after which we were deposited on a dock and the owner of our hotel picked us up in his beat-up little Datsan for the final two or three kilometers. By 4:30pm, we finally made it to our lovely little restort.

If you are going to travel so far and for so long and get so wet, you must stay for a while.

The holiday that followed really couldn't have brought any more enjoyment than the trip out. It was unseasonably wet and rained every single day. We ate so much Thai curry. In fact, I think I had curry four days in a row because Thai curry is unquestionably the best food in the entire world (please don't argue). We watched storms roll in and storms roll back out to sea, and in between laid on rafts floating off the coast in the relatively clean water. I read three books in our five days there, which might be a new record. We also played many board games, at many of which I triumphed, thankfully.

Some holidays you want adventure and new sights, (ie. Bali, Chiang Mai). Other holidays you just want to lay still and sleep. Sometimes you need quiet time to reflect, to reassess, to find healing and forgiveness, and feel overwhelming gratitude that you have the amazing opportunity to live in such a beautiful corner of the world. And the adventure getting out was certainly part of the joy! Going back into Cambodia, the immigration people harassed us looking for bribes (common at this specific border crossing) which bookend the travel adventures. However, the time at the beach was sheer perfection.

How I Learned Over Khmer New Year

Southwest Thailand.

Part of living in the Kingdom requires tumultuous ups and downs. Everyone does it. I seem to do it more than is necessary. Something about hot season makes thing the most difficult. 

Through my reading and my adventures, I started to reconnect with the idea of stories. I was a Lenten theme at my spiritual home. Our lives are stories. It's a cliche. Then I started to think about stories I've read or films I have seen recently...Les Miserables, Hunger Games, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest, Mamma Mia (the later one I'm not proud of). These are stories. Granted fiction (both Hunger Games and Mamma Mia could possibly happen in an post-apocalyptic distopian world) but these are stories. And I realized, as Donald Miller so eloquently pointed out in a recent book, stories and films illustrate life and things we experience. 

My time in Cambodia has been an interesting mix of ups and downs. There have been many difficult situations that never made sense. No one ever wants hard times. None of the characters in the stories and films I've seen intentionally sought pain or suffering. Life is messy. And though crap happens, we learn and grow because of it. We don't grow as sedentary objects. If our heroes and protagonists never put the TV remote down and went outside, there would be no story. We wouldn't watch their stories or cheer them on. We grow in motion, under pressure, in the moments as unexpected as our drives home or a lunch conversation. So while I didn't ask for the hard things that happened, like my fictional characters, I can embrace the challenge with dignity...or I can be pathetic. 

While I have six very full months left in the Kingdom, I've already begun to grieve a little; for the city that I've come to call home, for the friends who have built my world from mundane into hilarious and food-filled. I grieve for the freedoms I experience here (freedoms which ironically many are denied). I've realized the importance to continuing to rise to the challenge in these final six months. It's easy to coast to the end in a blanket of pity, denial and misguided nostalgia. Or it's the opportunity to put down the TV remote and go outside every single day looking for adventure, right to the end.

Six months. Carpe Diem.