A Few Thoughts...

As the end of my first stint in Cambodia is drawing to a close, I have had some time to really reflect on all that has happened during the last seven months. I want to spend more time processing the events, relationships and lessons before I’m thrust into the tailspin of trips and reunions that wait at home, but of course there’s always too much happening to sit and think. Maybe that’s what thirty hour flights are for.
It will be impossible to adequately explain the impact this experience has had on my heart and mind, but I suppose that’s the nature of experience – you have to live something to fully understand the significance. So I don’t expect my experience to change others, but I am no doubt changed myself… changed by the people, changed by the culture, changed by the images of poverty and beauty both, and changed by my own personal wrestling match during the last year.
I anticipated some things – I knew I would meet interesting people, eat wacky food, and work through various challenges. There was no way to know what those things would look like, however, until I came face to face with them in the context of life. That has been the fun part – interesting, hilarious, frustrating, scary – and fun. I didn’t expect to gain a best friend from Holland in Cambodia. I think I’ve learned more Dutch than Khmer. I didn’t expect to spend every lunch hour eating like royalty – really, how many hot lunch programs are serving fresh shrimp, beef and pork (OR blood, liver, baby frogs and chicken feet)? There’s no way I could have predicted that I would develop such deep love for the teachers at the school. I knew I would give my heart away to the students, but my deepest connection has been with the staff – men and women who serve tirelessly and who have taken care of me. They have become my family here. And their love hasn’t been reserved for me alone - five or six teachers sent gifts for my mom and dad with the message that they love them. They have so little, but they simply want to give. It’s special.
I also thought I would use Phnom Penh as a platform to do more traveling – I figured I would be checking out a new city or country every chance I had… Thailand, Vietnam, Laos. I think I actually left the city a total of three times in seven months, including a school study tour with 75 kids. I haven’t had wild adventures in the jungle or toured Southeast Asia yet. Rather, I have shared meals with families in their homes, celebrated holidays with the teachers at the school, and played volleyball with the students after school. I believe that has been the most valuable investment of time. The teachers don’t vacation. They were at the school every day of their two week holiday. Most of them have never crossed the border of Vietnam, only five hours away. So though I would like to do more traveling next year, I don’t regret my ties to this place. I may not have seen the post popular tourist attractions in Bangkok or Ho Chi Minh City – or even Phnom Penh for that matter – but I’ve eaten Khmer noodles and grilled fish with my friends, hitched rides on the backs of their motors, and laughed over and over at dumb inside jokes about soup, language, and being single. Those things are far more meaningful than my picture of Angkor Wat.
Living in Cambodia has helped me understand many things on a deeper level. Teaching at an non-profit school in a third world country seems like a noble endeavor, but in Phnom Penh, I’m one of hundreds. That’s why everyone is there. Almost every expat is working for some organization – everyone there has left family and the comforts of home to help the people of Cambodia. There’s no applause once you arrive – they hand you a shovel and tell you to roll up your sleeves; “Glad you took the plunge, now let’s go.” It’s good – I like that. It forces people to check their motives. It is a needy place – you can’t volunteer with the notion that the world is going to stop and honor your love for humanity… it’s the expectation. At the same time, it’s very possible to live a very comfortable life, somewhat isolated from the country. People can still go to their offices and coffee shops, jazz clubs and pools, having very little interaction with the real lives of those in poverty, with the typical life in Cambodia. We can do the same thing anywhere – stick to our community without venturing out to a different population or group. It’s easy to do, because it’s so comfortable. But, wow – I would have missed out on many rich experiences if I had stayed in the walls of expatriate land.
Often I was more of an observer than a participant – the foreign fly on the wall – but I have realized the value of presence. Just being there – sitting on the steps while the guys play chess, slicing meat while the women talk and prepare food, listening to the staff meeting with no translation. The conversation or event may not have had the same significance to me on a cognitive level, but I was able to communicate that I was invested, that I cared. That’s important. Ironically, the lesson of presence was equally powerful in my absence. Sharing meals with people here clearly meant that I wasn’t sitting at the dinner table with my family or friends, and that has been hard. I haven’t been the friend I would like to be – the one someone can call at three in the morning or be there for life’s trials. I have kept thinking about the quote by Theodore Roosevelt - “Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.” So now I’m almost home (staging for twelve hours in Korea) and I will do what I can, where I will be. I can’t wait for every second of precious time. I know it will disappear all too quickly, but I just want to stay focused on the moment – I realize that’s all I really have. I’m leaving Cambodia in a really good place (mentally, spiritually – physically, kind of… small infection that is forcing me to hobble through the airport, but ok), and I have a lot to return to. Thanks for sharing this leg of the journey with me. Now I’m ready to go home for a while.