Saturday 24 October 2009
Today I went to the Watt for a party with my familiy. I had assumed that it was the Watt in town or at least the one that is a 5 minute bike ride. Nope. It was the Watt that is 25 minutes away in another village and the only reason I thought I knew where it was is because I decided to go for a bike ride this morning and kind of happened upon it. Or, rather I saw the entrance to the Watt with a banner that said something in Khmer and had today’s date. Good thing I know enough Khmer to ask for directions and when I was getting close these “yays” or grandmas directed me in the correct direction. The family sent me first since I have to ride my bike and they came later on Moto. When I got there I saw a teacher at the school who I recognized. She took me inside the Watt complex where I kid you not there was a street fair ride (the one with the cars or motos that go in a circle), balloons, tons of loud music, people in the watt sitting down getting blessed, and tons of food. My teacher friend insisted I eat and then passed me off to some of her friends who I sort of recognized but could not place where. Anyway, so I sit down at a table with them and then people brought us food to eat. Two of the guys serving us actually spoke English very well. One said in English with a tone of voice that was somewhat disdainful, “Are you French?” To which I responded, “No, American.” Everything changed. He smiled and was visibly excited that I was American. Turns out he had a Peace Corps volunteer as a teacher in Prey Vieng (the province next to me). He’s a teacher in this village. I spoke to him for a bit and then it was time to eat. The rest of the night kind of felt like I was watching a foreign movie with no subtitles. I think that maybe that is the best way to describe being in large gatherings where you don’t speak the language, even though this is not completely accurate because you’re actually taking part. The entire time you have no idea what to do or what people are trying to say to you. You just sit there, smile a lot, eat what is before you and follow people when they motion you to go somewhere. Despite my inability to communicate, people here are extremely kind and generous. Like this family that allowed me to eat with them. I could barely say anything to them, but they clearly enjoyed my presence. You could feel their generosity. I so badly wanted to express to them how much I appreciated their kindness and tell that it could have been extremely awkward for me to wait alone for my family to arrive, but instead all I could say was that my family was here and “thank you a lot.” I then went and sat with my family and two other couples that I had seen before but couldn’t at first remember where. Then I remembered that they were both police officers and lived next door! I was then socially forced to eat another bowl of rice and curry. Then lucky enough for me it was time to go home. Good thing, there was a huge storm coming in and it was dark. I forget the statistic, but a lot of Cambodians die because of lightening. However, it’s not the lightening that kills them rather it’s the fact that no one knows CPR. My host parents then followed me home. Me on my bike and them on their moto. I tell you what, riding home in the dark on a horrible road with only the light of a moto was actually somewhat fun and sort of a game. Seeing how fast you can ride and all the while trying to avoid huge holes in the road, mud which will causes your tires to slide, people walking and occasionally livestock! Somehow I made it home. The whole time I was riding home I just kept thinking, “is this really my life?” This happens quite regularly still. Eating lunch and seeing banana trees, riding my bike through rice fields that seem to never end and of course being the only American for miles. I guess when I stop asking this question I could realize that I’m bored.
Wednesday 21 October, 2009
Tonight as I was going for a bike ride, I saw people standing outside the health center and one of the nurses that I know. I decided to stop in because I’m never really in any sort of a hurry here and dropping in never seems to be a problem. As I ride up I see a patient lying on a hospital bed in the front of the lawn. He wasn’t moving so I was uncertain, honestly, if he were dead or alive. I soon found the answer to that question as the doctor put a tube up his nose and the man moved only a little. That’s when I decided I should leave and would ask questions tomorrow. I couldn’t help but think about how awful it would be to be sick here. While my hospital appears to be run very well, there are few conveniences available for the possibility of comfort. Take a hospital bed as an example. In the states patients have beds that move, have a reasonably comfortable mattress, a pillow, sheets, and a remote to change the channel on the TV. Here they look like something you’d see from a movie set in the 1950s from a psych ward. Or, if you watch Alias (I’ve been watching Alias because I finished first season of 24 and am waiting for the second), the episode where Jennifer Gardner goes into a hospital in Bulgaria or somewhere, they have beds similar to those ones at my Health Center. Regardless, they are metal, rusted and lack mattresses. This is obviously one of the more trivial reasons why being sick in Cambodia- as a Cambodian- is not desirable.
Since I haven’t quite got this place all figured out, I’ve been trying to explore new areas. On Wednesdays I ride my bike; whereas, normally I go for walks. A good hour or more bike ride keeps me in shape for the long trip into the provincial capital which hasn’t yet gotten easier. I attribute that to the fact that I am fortunate enough to be hauling packages home full of wonderful things from America like books and peanut butter and candy! This last time home my bag actually fell in the mud. Before I left, my family insisted that I take the other way because the road is better. This other way ended up tacking 7K onto my ride. Now, when you are already going 20K, another 7 is pure torture (ACTUALLY, I wrote this last week, yesterday, Peace Corps came to pick me up and we drove into the Provential town this way and it measured 37K; which, is about 23 miles!!!!) So, on my way home I decided to take the shorter, but more bumpy and muddy road. All morning it had rained so I decided to spend a couple hours on the internet in hope that it would stop long enough for me to make it home. No such luck; however, it only sprinkled so I guess it could have been a lot worse. When I got to the cratered road I realized that if I made it home without falling in the mud a miracle would have taken place. About an hour of biking on that road I came to a spot in the road that was nearly impassable without going through standing mud; however, there was a ridge between the two huge holes in the road I decided to brave. Now, my bag was in the basket on the back of my bike with a red poncho protecting it from the rain. I had just said hello to the nice lady staring at the crazy foreigner riding her bike and wearing her bike helmet when I decided to brave the ridge. I got about half way through and I heard the splash! I quickly jumped off my bike and went to rescue my downed bag which had sunk to the bottom of the pond of water. If not for that red poncho everything would have been completely ruined. The thing that struck me as odd was that I wasn’t upset at all. As I got on my bike I kept thinking that this should really make me mad, but it didn’t. I guess I knew I was lucky because it wasn’t me sitting in that mud puddle. Then I would have been mad.
Anyway, my exploring tonight took me on an irrigation dam through rice fields. It was breathtakingly beautiful. I’ve decided I need to take a camera with me on these bike rides. I see some of the most beautiful scenes that I would love to capture despite a pictures innate failure to really capture what you see. Tonight I saw two teenage girls walking through the rice fields with hoes in hand headed to their plot, I suppose. One of my favorites from the other day was these two boys riding water buffalo through the fields. This reminds me, I want to ride a water buffalo. I just put it on my list of “things to do in life.” Right now the rice is a brilliant shade of green. It’s even brighter when a storm is coming in and the sky is a deep blue. I love the contrast. It makes each more intense.
Today I went to the Watt for a party with my familiy. I had assumed that it was the Watt in town or at least the one that is a 5 minute bike ride. Nope. It was the Watt that is 25 minutes away in another village and the only reason I thought I knew where it was is because I decided to go for a bike ride this morning and kind of happened upon it. Or, rather I saw the entrance to the Watt with a banner that said something in Khmer and had today’s date. Good thing I know enough Khmer to ask for directions and when I was getting close these “yays” or grandmas directed me in the correct direction. The family sent me first since I have to ride my bike and they came later on Moto. When I got there I saw a teacher at the school who I recognized. She took me inside the Watt complex where I kid you not there was a street fair ride (the one with the cars or motos that go in a circle), balloons, tons of loud music, people in the watt sitting down getting blessed, and tons of food. My teacher friend insisted I eat and then passed me off to some of her friends who I sort of recognized but could not place where. Anyway, so I sit down at a table with them and then people brought us food to eat. Two of the guys serving us actually spoke English very well. One said in English with a tone of voice that was somewhat disdainful, “Are you French?” To which I responded, “No, American.” Everything changed. He smiled and was visibly excited that I was American. Turns out he had a Peace Corps volunteer as a teacher in Prey Vieng (the province next to me). He’s a teacher in this village. I spoke to him for a bit and then it was time to eat. The rest of the night kind of felt like I was watching a foreign movie with no subtitles. I think that maybe that is the best way to describe being in large gatherings where you don’t speak the language, even though this is not completely accurate because you’re actually taking part. The entire time you have no idea what to do or what people are trying to say to you. You just sit there, smile a lot, eat what is before you and follow people when they motion you to go somewhere. Despite my inability to communicate, people here are extremely kind and generous. Like this family that allowed me to eat with them. I could barely say anything to them, but they clearly enjoyed my presence. You could feel their generosity. I so badly wanted to express to them how much I appreciated their kindness and tell that it could have been extremely awkward for me to wait alone for my family to arrive, but instead all I could say was that my family was here and “thank you a lot.” I then went and sat with my family and two other couples that I had seen before but couldn’t at first remember where. Then I remembered that they were both police officers and lived next door! I was then socially forced to eat another bowl of rice and curry. Then lucky enough for me it was time to go home. Good thing, there was a huge storm coming in and it was dark. I forget the statistic, but a lot of Cambodians die because of lightening. However, it’s not the lightening that kills them rather it’s the fact that no one knows CPR. My host parents then followed me home. Me on my bike and them on their moto. I tell you what, riding home in the dark on a horrible road with only the light of a moto was actually somewhat fun and sort of a game. Seeing how fast you can ride and all the while trying to avoid huge holes in the road, mud which will causes your tires to slide, people walking and occasionally livestock! Somehow I made it home. The whole time I was riding home I just kept thinking, “is this really my life?” This happens quite regularly still. Eating lunch and seeing banana trees, riding my bike through rice fields that seem to never end and of course being the only American for miles. I guess when I stop asking this question I could realize that I’m bored.
Wednesday 21 October, 2009
Tonight as I was going for a bike ride, I saw people standing outside the health center and one of the nurses that I know. I decided to stop in because I’m never really in any sort of a hurry here and dropping in never seems to be a problem. As I ride up I see a patient lying on a hospital bed in the front of the lawn. He wasn’t moving so I was uncertain, honestly, if he were dead or alive. I soon found the answer to that question as the doctor put a tube up his nose and the man moved only a little. That’s when I decided I should leave and would ask questions tomorrow. I couldn’t help but think about how awful it would be to be sick here. While my hospital appears to be run very well, there are few conveniences available for the possibility of comfort. Take a hospital bed as an example. In the states patients have beds that move, have a reasonably comfortable mattress, a pillow, sheets, and a remote to change the channel on the TV. Here they look like something you’d see from a movie set in the 1950s from a psych ward. Or, if you watch Alias (I’ve been watching Alias because I finished first season of 24 and am waiting for the second), the episode where Jennifer Gardner goes into a hospital in Bulgaria or somewhere, they have beds similar to those ones at my Health Center. Regardless, they are metal, rusted and lack mattresses. This is obviously one of the more trivial reasons why being sick in Cambodia- as a Cambodian- is not desirable.
Since I haven’t quite got this place all figured out, I’ve been trying to explore new areas. On Wednesdays I ride my bike; whereas, normally I go for walks. A good hour or more bike ride keeps me in shape for the long trip into the provincial capital which hasn’t yet gotten easier. I attribute that to the fact that I am fortunate enough to be hauling packages home full of wonderful things from America like books and peanut butter and candy! This last time home my bag actually fell in the mud. Before I left, my family insisted that I take the other way because the road is better. This other way ended up tacking 7K onto my ride. Now, when you are already going 20K, another 7 is pure torture (ACTUALLY, I wrote this last week, yesterday, Peace Corps came to pick me up and we drove into the Provential town this way and it measured 37K; which, is about 23 miles!!!!) So, on my way home I decided to take the shorter, but more bumpy and muddy road. All morning it had rained so I decided to spend a couple hours on the internet in hope that it would stop long enough for me to make it home. No such luck; however, it only sprinkled so I guess it could have been a lot worse. When I got to the cratered road I realized that if I made it home without falling in the mud a miracle would have taken place. About an hour of biking on that road I came to a spot in the road that was nearly impassable without going through standing mud; however, there was a ridge between the two huge holes in the road I decided to brave. Now, my bag was in the basket on the back of my bike with a red poncho protecting it from the rain. I had just said hello to the nice lady staring at the crazy foreigner riding her bike and wearing her bike helmet when I decided to brave the ridge. I got about half way through and I heard the splash! I quickly jumped off my bike and went to rescue my downed bag which had sunk to the bottom of the pond of water. If not for that red poncho everything would have been completely ruined. The thing that struck me as odd was that I wasn’t upset at all. As I got on my bike I kept thinking that this should really make me mad, but it didn’t. I guess I knew I was lucky because it wasn’t me sitting in that mud puddle. Then I would have been mad.
Anyway, my exploring tonight took me on an irrigation dam through rice fields. It was breathtakingly beautiful. I’ve decided I need to take a camera with me on these bike rides. I see some of the most beautiful scenes that I would love to capture despite a pictures innate failure to really capture what you see. Tonight I saw two teenage girls walking through the rice fields with hoes in hand headed to their plot, I suppose. One of my favorites from the other day was these two boys riding water buffalo through the fields. This reminds me, I want to ride a water buffalo. I just put it on my list of “things to do in life.” Right now the rice is a brilliant shade of green. It’s even brighter when a storm is coming in and the sky is a deep blue. I love the contrast. It makes each more intense.
