Around Phnom Penh

On the weekends, Christine and I have time to explore Phnom Penh. As we strolled down the street last Saturday, I exclaimed “Saturdays are my favorite days!” That said, I’m so glad I’m not experiencing the country simply as a tourist passing through. Living in the country for a year gives me the chance to more fully experience the culture and way of life. Below are some pictures from our explorations.

The Royal Palace, the official residence of King Sihamoni: Wat Phnom, is a temple in the center of Phnom Penh, occupying the highest point in the city. According to legend, in 1373, a woman by the name of Penh discovered four statues of Buddha on this hill, placed there by the Mekong River. Thus the city derived its name Phnom Penh (literally "the hill of Penh").
The entrance to the temple is guarded by seven-headed serpents and lions. Many Cambodians come to pray for luck, success and good health and to make offerings.
Inside Wat Phnom:
Vutong makes an offering of incense as she prays:
The Riverside in Phnom attracts many tourists but is also a favorite local hang-out:
The Independence Monument was built in 1958 and today is also a memorial to Cambodia's war dead.
On a more somber note, we visited Tuol Sleng museum aka S-21. A mere thirty years ago, the Vietnamese liberated Cambodia from the rule of Pol Pot. Under Pol Pot's regime S-21 was a center of torture and execution adding to the mass genocide happening throughout Cambodia at that time. Walking down the halls of the museum (which was formerly a high school) I got chills down my back. This building could be any school in Phnom Penh, but for the blood stains, rusted torture equipment, and the pictures of the many lives lost at the school attest otherwise. Particularly disturbing, were the pictures of the children.

Stepping outside of the museum, into the warm sunshine felt surreal. The beauty of the day came in stark contrast to the horrors that had taken place at this site in the not so distant past. While it was incredibly difficult to visit, it is always important to remember the attrocities of the past in the hope of preventing such things from happening again.

A Small Miracle

A really beautiful thing happened in the life of one of the Laura girls, Teara. Both her mother and father died when she was young, leaving her with the street name but no other part of her relative’s address. Teara was raised by the Sister. Just this past month, years after her parents had passed away, Teara was listening to the radio when someone called-in and identified their address. Miraculously, Teara recognized the street name and learned the town in which it was located. After so many years, she was reunited with her father’s family! The family had long ago given up looking for Teara, believing she was dead. But they still had pictures of Teara from when she was just a baby (marking the first time that that Teara got to see them herself). It was so wonderful to hear Teara’s story, especially in the light of the difficulties that many of the Laura girls have experienced in their lives.

Don Bosco Vocational Training Center for Girls

It’s been ages since I last updated my blog… I can thank school for that; I’ve been quite busy ever since classes began in October. I teach twenty-two periods each week and have a total of 100 students and six classes. So far, some of the biggest challenges have been the language barrier (especially with the first-year students) the limited resources (even photo-copying is kept to a minimum) learning the girls’ names (known of which I’d ever heard before) not to mention the lack of space. It is difficult to do any activity or game in a classroom when you have 25 girls crammed elbow to elbow, with barely enough room to stand up and sit down. I constantly find myself saying how wonderful it will be next year, when the new school is completed and there is adequate space to teach!

So far, things are going Ok. I’m not a great teacher, but I’m not horrible either. Some classes go better than others and I’m learning as I go. When I have a sea of confused or bored faces staring at me, I know never to repeat a certain lesson again. On the other hand, when a class goes extremely well it is so up-lifting. It is incredibly satisfying when my students are fully engaged, asking questions, their faces a-light with wonder or when a class is simply full of laughter. I’ve definitely had to learn to be in the lime-light (something I’ve never handled very well) and to make a fool of myself (which is totally worth it if it makes my class laugh). While there is a very apparent cultural divide between my students and I, it is always neat to see the ways we connect and relate to one another.

Two weeks ago, my teaching uniform was finally completed! My students ooooed and awwwed when I made my first appearance in it. I received compliments throughout the week (making me wonder if what I’d been wearing at the beginning of the year was really that bad). No, really, I think they were just excited to see me dawn Khmer-style clothes. They seem greatly amused whenever I attempt anything Khmer (such as the language or dance). I’m excited to learn both, and while I haven’t made much progress with either the students are full of encouragement and praise.

All of my students have a high level of respect for their teachers, I’ve only had a small problem with two of my students (who are more advanced in their English and as a result have a slight attitude). I was a little bit startled when I walked into my very first class and all of the students stood up and greeted me, chorusing “Good morning Teacher”. Similarly, I think I jumped a little when I completed a game with my first-years and they all placed their hands in prayer position and exclaimed “Thank you, Teacher!” However, I’m now used to both their welcome and farewell in each class (and even find myself basking in their esteem).

I’ve assigned my first test for this week (right before the holidays…we have five days off for the Khmer Water Festival). I really hope that all of my students do well! Either way, it will reflect how I’m actually doing as a teacher.

Acceptance

The telephone never stopped ringing today, marking the announcement day of those accepted into the Don Bosco Secretary Vocational Training Center for the 2009-2010 year. Today I was actually glad I hadn’t progressed very far in my study of Khmer, saving me the task of breaking the sad news to those not admitted.

The Sisters now need to locate a nearby house for the girls admitted from the countryside. With classes starting next week, it seems to me that the Sisters are cutting it close!
Construction is under way for a new building designed for the Vocational Training Center and is scheduled to be completed in June. The four-story building will not only have classrooms and offices, but also space to house girls from outside provinces (who are usually the poorest of the poor).
This year the Vocational Training Program is operating out of the Kindergarten building, while the Kindergarten has been moved outside to the courtyard. Needless to say, the opening of the new building will be greatly celebrated. It will both further the Sister’s mission to serve the poor (allowing them to accept girls who would not otherwise have had the means to live in the city and attend school) while providing the space to adequately accommodate students and teachers alike. It will be exciting to see the opening of the school this year, but I sometimes find myself wishing it had been built a year earlier : )

Homecoming

The Past Pupil’s meeting of the Vocational Training Center just happened to coincide with SMWC’s Homecoming. While I feel like I am in the right place for the year, I was still sad to miss what would have been my first Homecoming. As I watched the past pupils squealing in delight as they greeted old friends, I thought of my Woodsies who I’m sure were similarly greeting one another.

Despite these tinges of sentiment, the past pupils made me feel immediately welcome. It was wonderful to meet the graduates of our Center, all of who are success stories. Many of the alumni have advanced past the position of secretary, becoming accountants and a few even managers. The meeting served multiple purposes as a reunion, an opportunity for social net-working and professional development; further, it provided me with the chance to see firsthand just how great an impact I could have in the lives of my students this year.

A Village Visit

The following day, Chunn invited me to go with her to visit a co-worker’s village; Chunn visits the poor whenever she can, bringing small gifts of food or money (she really lives a life of social action).

A trip that would have taken about 45 minutes in the USA, took twice as long thanks to the conditions of the road. As we bounced down the final, palm-lined dirt road, I was exposed to a totally different world than that found in Phnom Penh. The poverty here was extreme, but is simply the way of life for the people who live here.

We went first to the home of Chunn’s co-worker. A family spanning three generations shared the 2-room, wooden hut built upon stilts ten feet off the ground. I was surprised to find that the home was over 100 years old! Removing my shoes, I climbed the steep ladder into the hut, where I sat on the floor to enjoy coconut water and Pchum Ben cakes. There were no chairs, tables or beds inside, simply a straw mat on which to sit and sleep. A small alter took prominence within the room, fashioned after a Cambodian Temple and dedicated to the “house gods”. Finishing our snack, we began a round of visits.

First, to the in-laws. Chunn’s co-worker, although middle-aged, had never ridden in a car before. So after a few excited shouts of “Turn here”, “No, no, there!” we arrived at a similar hut as described above. While the steep ladder had been slightly nerve-racking for me to climb, it was difficult to watch her elderly in-laws descend this treacherous incline (which they must traverse daily). Here, she presented her in-laws with gifts; in return they recited a blessing over her, bowing repeatedly in gratitude. It was a privilege to witness this exchange which is deeply rooted in Khmer culture; as on all major holidays, the Khmer are expected to present their parents with gifts.

This tradition must relate to the fact that children care for their parents in their old age. The next home we visited was of an elderly couple in their eighties who had no children to look after them. Further, the health of the two was severely declined. The man was bent at an almost 90 degree angle, unable to stand up straight. The woman’s teeth had almost completely rotted, leaving a stain of blood around her mouth. Although, of course, they were speaking in Khmer, Chunn translated some of their story for me. The two were married in their twenties. When the woman reached her thirties, and still had not had a child, she asked her husband to re-marry. However, he refused. The two now rely on the generosity of the rest of the village to survive. The couple insisted that we take with us nearly all their Pchum Ben cakes, despite the fact that they had so little.

As we left their hut, a woman beckoned to Fr. Kevin. He soon realized that his Center provided her son with AIDs medication. We went to meet the 14-year old boy; as he was led over to us I realized that he was blind. His mother said he used to be very good at his studies, that was, before he lost his sight. Living in this small village, I knew there were no resources for him to continue his education

However, the most difficult visit for me was to the home of an elderly mother and her two daughters, one of which suffers from a mental illness. When we entered the hut, I saw that a curtain had been strung up. I heard Fr. Kevin’s exclamation, “Oh, oh, this is really difficult to see”. Immediately, I went on guard. Chunn beckoned me around the curtain. On the other side, was a cage made of bamboo containing the daughter suffering from mental illness. She lay listlessly inside, in soiled clothes, drooling. Her mother spoke passionately, with tears in her eyes. She said that when her daughter turned violent, they had no choice but to lock her up.

In the village, and throughout Cambodia, the people know of no other way to care for the mentally ill besides chaining or caging them. There are only 20 psychiatrists in the whole country, and no psychologists. While a number of NGOs are present in the country, none have been established to serve the mentally ill. There are absolutely no inpatient treatment centers. At one point, the daughter sat up within the cage and laughed hysterically, before lying back down. It was extremely difficult to see her in such horrible conditions and feel as if I could do nothing to help. That anyone should be forced to live in such circumstances is inhumane.

Seeing her was a life-changing moments, where nothing can quite go back to the way it was before. The image of her will always stay with me. This experience caused me to think a lot about what I was doing here in Cambodia for the year. It seems like such a small and mundane thing to be teaching English when such greater problems exist throughout the country. I eventually justified to myself that in educating these girls, hopefully they, like Chunn will help improve the living conditions and bring aid to some of the poorest of the poor. Further, I feel that in the long-term, I may have discovered my own mission: perhaps one day I can help open a center for the mentally ill in Cambodia.

Pchum Ben

September marks the celebration of one of the biggest holidays in Cambodia: Pchum Ben. Throughout this fourteen day holiday, Cambodians honor the spirits of their ancestors. They make frequent visits to pagodas, bringing offerings of sweets, rice, and money.
What this holiday meant for me: silence!

The culmination of the 14 days fell on the weekend of September 19th; on this weekend, the majority of Phnom Penh city-dwellers travelled to their family homes in the outlying provinces. Everyone left the school, including the Laura girls, teachers and staff. Best of all, construction of the new school stopped (which can normally be heard seven days a week). Traffic died down and many shops closed leaving the streets nearly deserted.

Dring this quiet weekend, a past pupil of the vocational school, Chunn, stopped by to visit. After having spoken with Chunn for only a few minutes, she invited me to go with her to the riverside (a local tourist attraction). Chunn works at a Center that cares for children with AIDs (most of whom are orphaned or abandoned). We met up with a group of these children along the river, where the Center had brought them to celebrate Pchum Ben.

I found myself immediately surrounded by children happily greeting me and vying for my attention. Looking into the beseeching faces around me, I had never so fervently wished I spoke Khmer. The children were full of joy, and I had a wonderful time visiting and laughing with them. On the drive back, the fact that many of their lives will be shortened significantly, sunk in. While it is wonderful that they are receiving good care at the Center and further, that AIDs is on the decline in Cambodia, it doesn’t lessen the deep sadness that some of these young lives that will soon end.