Cold in Cambodia

Tis the season everybody!

I can feel it in the air! Kids are making snowmen, people are caroling in the streets, Santas are roaming our shopping malls, gift-buying-deal-snagging is upon us. It's the Holidays. And we couldn't be happier!

NOPE. NO WAY! THAT'S ABSOLUTELY IMPOSSIBLE! THERE IS NO WAY! IT'S 90 DEGREES OUTSIDE!

Sorry for the outburst. But I'm serious. There are supposed, so-called "SEASONS" in Cambodia but I have yet to be convinced that they really exist. Rainy Season, if that really is it's name, was a straight up joke. Before I left the USofA I was nearly terrified of the "Monsoon" season. I imagined myself biking miles and miles through torrential downpours for hours on end. I imagined all of my belongings being sopping wet upon my arrival to Cambodia. This did not sound appealing to me.

And after living through one Rainy Season in Cambodia, I must say, I am extremely disappointed.

It is so hot here that the rain that comes, when it does come, is like...I don't know...maybe sort of like eating chocolate after giving it up for lent. I don't know if that's exactly what it's like because I've never given up anything for lent (but I did go about a month without eating chocolate last year and it was a waste of my time.) I'm not Catholic (or whatever denomination it is that gives things up for lent) so I don't know if it's at all like this but let's just pretend. Okay?

Other than my disappointing Rainy Season, the weather here in Cambodia has remained fairly consistent. Therefore, myself and many other (sort of winter-loving) volunteers are convinced that it is still the middle of July. Time sort of stopped when we entered the Kingdom of Wonder. And this sensation of time standing still is becoming more apparent and disheartening as we approach the Holidays.

For Example: I had mixed emotions when I heard and saw photos of the big snowfall in Minneapolis last weekend. However, it was really enjoyable for me to see from the outside looking in, how ridiculous Minnesotans' relationship with snow truly is. It began with "Hooray for snow!" Let's take pretty pictures of all the snow and post them on Instagram! And only one day later: "This stop and go traffic is for the birds!!! SO OVER WINTER!!" (This was a direct quote from a friend on FB.)

I definitely get it. I've been there. I've probably said similar things except never had to worry about the stop and go traffic because I ran to work. Yeah, I know. I'm a badass. BUT now, in my situation, I so badly want to stick my face in a big snow mound. I want to lay down in the snow until all the snow is melted beneath me. I want to throw snowballs at the cars passing by. My Cambodia house would be perfect for that! I would just sit on the balcony and throw snowballs at the speeding cars all day long.

Beyond the "Lack of Seasons Affective Disorder" or "LOSAD", I'm also missing my friends and family more than ever. This is pretty normal for PCVs during the holidays but now that I'm actually experiencing it, it's really crummy. Thanksgiving was strange strange strange. First of all, Peace Corps happened to schedule our Counterpart conference for Thanksgiving day...HA. HA. HA. There's nothing I'd rather be doing on my favorite holiday of the year than having awkward conversations with my Health Center Director and counterpart. Peace Corps did make up for this huge blunder by serving all of the K6 volunteers an incredibly delicious Thanksgiving dinner two days later. We ate with chopsticks. It was what we like to call "A Shit Show."

This photo pretty much sums up our PC Thanksgiving


Luckily, I was able to Skype with my lovely Olson family during their Thanksgiving festivities even though it was 5AM for me. And as expected, they rubbed it in that they were eating my mom's pie. Thanks guys. Thanks for your support....

Following the craze of Thanksgiving was my Birthday! It was, again, odd not being with my family but it was spent in Kampot town which is a great place to be for one's birthday. And my host family is so wonderful. They gave me Khmer cake from Phnom Penh that said my name and 26-12-2012 on it when I returned. They were, not surprisingly, confused about how old I was turning and put a 26 candle on top. Khmer people never seem to know how old anyone really is. Just a month before, my host brother celebrated his 21st birthday but said that he was actually 23 years old. Huh? What? I'm confused. As always. Regardless, the fact that my Khmer family gave me a cake kind of made it feel more legit for me.

Host brother Vanna & Host sister Srey Neang. They're so sweet.


And now it's December and my mind is blown. The end of the world is next week! I haven't even figured out what to wear for the Apocalypse.

In conclusion, I'd appreciate it if you all think of me at least once while you're shoveling your sidewalk and cursing the Snow Gods. I freaking love shoveling snow! Perhaps fall into the snow while you're waiting for the bus and make a snow angel. Throw a snowball at an unexpecting car stuck in traffic on Hennepin Ave. And then run away really fast!

I've never even been downhill skiing. Whatevs. I'd totally do it with these cool cats.


And most important, Happy Holidays!


Love,

Laurax

SIEM REAP - a tale of horror, extreme happiness, and some pain

I had my first two official vacations in Cambodia this past week/weekend. First vacation took place in the provincial town of Kampot which is in southern Cambodia and only about 2 hours from my village. Vacation number two was way up North in Siem Reap which holds the 8th wonder of the world: Angkor Wat. And guess what? I didn't take a single photo while I was wandering the 8th wonder of the world.

I did, however, take photos while in Kampot town. The highlight of this trip was the relaxing sunset stroll (can you stroll in a boat?) up and down Kampong Bay River which runs through the middle of the town. I plan on taking many trips to Kampot town because of it's proximity to my home and because it's really awesome/beautiful/calm. There are many riverside bungalows overrun by expats drinking, eating, and swimming in sheer bliss that I myself would like to occupy.

the lovely river walk in Kampot town




fishing boats heading up the river




a mountainous gradation




I spy a birdie


Vacation number two did not get any photos for many reasons.

Reason #1: I wanted to spare all of my fellow PCV friends the embarrassment of me and my giant camera looking like an extreme tourist.
Reason #2: There are far too many people in Siem Reap. I was worried about theft.
Reason #3: I ran my first half marathon at Angkor Wat and my camera is far too large to lug around while running 21 kilometers. Can you blame me?
Reason #4: I plan on bringing my mama to Siem Reap in which case I don't give a damn if I look like a tourist.

Siem Reap is unlike any place I've seen in Cambodia so far. To be completely honest, it's a tourist trap. And actually, a lot of Khmer people don't even go to Siem Reap because of this. It's a city catered to tourists with more western restaurants, spas, and tacky souvenirs than I thought possible in such a small country. But it's also absolutely beautiful. It's clean, bustling, and filled with beautiful old French Colonial architecture.

My first day was spent indulging and gorging myself on the immediate access to delicious western food. Have you ever eaten mashed pumpkins? Akin to mashed potatoes only SO MUCH BETTER. Those were consumed at a vegetarian restaurant called Singing Tree Cafe. We made our server giggle because we ordered our meal in Khmer. This was probably one of my favorite things to do while in Siem Reap; order my food or drinks in Khmer. Most of the Khmer people that work there speak English because of the massive amounts of tourists that come through. They are definitely not used to barangs speaking Khmer with them. And it impresses a lot of people.

Day two in SR was spent indulging and gorging myself on the immediate access to delicious western food. Yes, similar to that of day one. It was also a day of recovery from the night before and preparation for my first half marathon the next day. Oh yeah, did I mention that I signed up to do my first half marathon ever at Angkor Wat in Siem Reap? I know...pretty cool, huh?

Since I am a responsible adult and kinda a little bit serious about running races, I decided to stay away from the party scene. Instead, I spent my night gallivanting around with my friend Arnoldo. He is truly an amazing spirit. He brings out the dancer in me. We were both running the half marathon at 6:30AM the next day so we decided to have our own kind of fun. This entailed creating what I like to call "visual spectacle" but could also be considered flash mobbing or just causing a scene. We walked down the middle of Pub Street, which is the main tourist crawl, and sporadically busted into dance. We danced to live bands playing in the open air restaurants as well as to the big-bass American pop music being blasted from other restaurants.

There was something in the air that night, the stars so bright - Arnoldo. This photo is from our Thanksgiving feast the previous weekend



Unbelievably (or maybe obviously...?), our dancing caused tourists to stop in their tracks. The tourists created large crowds around us and watched as we improvised our way around with the music. People took photos and videos of us with their iPhones. Old women from Germany danced with us. Other PCVs randomly joined in the spectacle as they walked past us. People cheered and clapped for us once we were too tired and sweaty to dance anymore.

This was the most fun I have had since I've been in Cambodia. I cannot wait to be reunited with Arnoldo to create more spectacles with him.

Our dancing may not have been the best thing to do the day before running a half marathon but it was very worth it. At 5AM the next day, we piled into a tuk-tuk in the darkness and rode to Angkor Wat for an amazing race. None of us felt prepared/well trained to do a half marathon but regardless of this fact, we were ecstatic.

The first half of the race for me was wonderful; I paced myself very well and felt powerful. About 7,000 people from 72 different countries were participating in the race so I was never alone which helped me keep going. At times, I imagined I was running through the woods in Minnesota only the trees were a little more exotic and a lot taller. We passed by villages where we were cheered on by long lines of children offering high-fives and wishing us good luck. Those kids were one of my biggest energy sources throughout the race.

It wasn't until after the 12k mark that I started to feel....crummy. I'm used to my knees being kind of an issue on long runs but never my feet. And my left foot was NOT HAPPY with me. The pain came on suddenly and was so excruciating that I went against my goal of running the entire time. I had to stop and walk. It took me a while to really let go and just walk. I was very determined to stick with my goal but the pain was just too much.

I walked on and off for probably about 5 minutes when all of a sudden an angel ran past me. This French angel woman ran along side me and told me to keep going. I just said "okay" and shuffled my feet into a slog and did my best to keep up with her. My angel's name is Jocelyn, she currently lives in Singapore, and works at a microchip manufacturing company. I told her my foot hurt really bad but she told me to take in the energy and beauty of Angkor Wat. And by simply having her to talk to for a short period of time, I was able to take my mind off of the pain. She eventually ran ahead of me but with her support and my determination to have mind over matter regarding the pain, I kept on trucking.

With about 2k to go (the longest 2k of my life) I ran past elephants and through an amazingly old and corroding temple. And with great relief, Angkor Wat proper reappeared and I finished my race.

When I actually think about it, I did really well for how much I trained. The most I ever ran while training was probably 12k-14k. And this fact only makes me want to get serious and train for real for the next half marathon happening in Sihanoukville in March 2013. We shall see. As I've said before, it's difficult to run in Cambodia...because it's kinda hot.

Oh and I actually did take one photo during vacation number two. I lied when I said I didn't take a single photo.

I took this photo:

7 HOUR BUS RIDE; AIN'T NO THANG.


This photo was taken on my bus ride home from vacation number two. It's not even a good photo (actually, I think it's pretty cool) but it exists so I'm sharing it with you.


Now I'm back home in Tramkok, back to the grind...

Life is pretty sweet.

I'm very busy

"I'm very busy."

I find this statement humorous after living in Cambodia for a little over 4 months now. Khmer people are very busy all the time. "Busy" is a subjective word and it varies depending on where you are in the world. Well...I'm only guessing this is true. I'm not trying to come off as well-traveled and knowledgable of all cultures because I'm not. I mostly only know my own culture and lifestyle that I lived in the United States.

That being said, I can compare my own idea of "busy" to what I've gathered to be the most common perception of "busy" here in Cambodia. To start things off, here's the definition I thought was most applicable for my analysis:

bus·y [biz-ee] adjective, bus·i·er, bus·i·est, verb, bus·ied, bus·y·ing.
1. Not at leisure; otherwise engaged: He couldn't see any visitors because he was busy.
2. Full of or characterized by activity: a busy life.

As many of you know, I landed in my permanent site (permanent site meaning I'm staying with my host family in this village for my two year PC service unless something awful happens which it won't) on September 9th, 2012. From then on, I was expected to wander over to the Health Center at some point, introduce myself to the staff, and explain in broken Khmer that I'd be working with them for the next two years. SUPER!

Initially, I received a sort of "deer in the headlights" response from the first nurse I approached. Slowly it began to sink in to the staff that they were told about 7 months earlier that a Peace Corps Volunteer would be popping in to help with health education.

Since then, I've only slightly made my presence in the Health Center useful. (The word "useful" is also subjective and losing or flexing in meaning for me the longer I live here.) For 60 days following the official swearing-in ceremony to become a real life Peace Corps Volunteer, I was on my own in the village. I was given very little guidance, "tic-tic" khmer language skills, and had nothing to do but "observe" and "integrate" into my community.

I started out fairly strong with my mission to "observe" and "integrate." I went to the Health Center everyday from 7:30AM to 11:30AM and then again at 1:00PM to about 4:00PM only to find out the first week that going to the HC after lunch was not...really...necessary. I either sat by myself for a good hour or with patients waiting for the real nurses to arrive and until then, was stared at with wonder and amusement. Therefore, I made the decision to only go to the HC in the mornings (7:30AM-11:00AM) and save the afternoons for INTENSE integration into my small community.

Intense is also a subjective word. And believe it or not, I'm shy (GASP! WAH? HUH?!NO! Impossible!!) I'm particularly shy when I don't speak the native tongue very well and I'm funny looking to the native people. Integrating became a challenge for me. It was almost an everyday battle, actually. My bedroom became a protective shell for me that included a fan and unlimited internet access. The best way to get myself to crawl out of my shell was to think of something to buy at the market.

I needed a laundry basket one day and a garbage can another day. And then I needed a broom!
Let me tell you, going to the market is an amazing way to integrate. It takes very little effort on my part. I just walk across the street and automatically have 20 people asking me what I want to buy. "Laura, ting ai?" This is where the charades often come in.

"How is it not obvious that I'm sweeping with an imaginary broom?"

...is what I thought to myself as I stood in front of the 10 vendors trying to play along with my game. One woman handed me a can of Raid (which coincidentally became an imperative purchase the next week.) I was then chauffeured through the market with my new yay friend on a search to find a broom. I finally found one for about 75 cents and proudly showed it off to the ladies at the market afterwards.

It's the little things.

These folks chat with me in the morning before I "nyam cafe takah. I have yet to buy a piglet but it's offered to me everyday.



When my comfort level increased a bit, I started to go to the market with no predetermined purchases to make. This didn't usually get me far. I'd be asked to "on-gooee-layng" or hang out at my coffee place to chat. Doing this would often get me free green Fanta drinks or even slightly alcoholic desserts (that one was weird...)

It also didn't take me long to realize that this chunk of time I dedicated to "integration" was also UNGODLY HOT. It's really. really. really hot in Cambodia. And I'm frightened for my future because it's not even the hot season yet! Hot season begins in April! Holy geez, are you KIDDING ME?!

In turn, it's not unusual for me to cut my "integration" time short and retreat back to my protective shell to nap in front of my fan.

I'm very busy.

My Host dog, Sokee, demonstrating how to appropriately take a "som rak"


It's hard to find things to do at times when structure is nonexistent, as I explained in my previous post. I found this to be ubiquitous amongst my fellow K6 CHE volunteers. We were all fighting constant boredom and feelings of uselessness.

The excessive amount of free time allowed me to read books, write my incredible blog posts, and observe Khmer culture in all it's oddities. And this is where I realized that Khmer people have a very different idea of what "busy" looks like.
Americans are generally overworked and always multitasking. In America, if you're sitting around at home watching Maury in the middle of the day, you are generally considered a lazy slob and need to get off your ass and find a real job. Time is money and if you're not back from your lunch break within the hour (or half hour) you may be penalized!
In Cambodia, everyone basically has a built in 2 hour lunch break/nap time. And that time frame is flexible and definitely not monitored by anyone at all. If you don't show up in the afternoon...it's not really a big deal.

Busy is having more than zero people in the HC at a time. Busy is having perhaps one transaction within a given hour. Busy is taking a little nap in the hammock after eating some sort of root vegetable as a snack. Or as Forrest Gump said it "Busy is as busy does."

The HC getting an overflow of patients.


My 60 days alone at site have passed me by and I am once again reunited with all my fellow K6 volunteers in my provincial town, Takeo. We're currently in the middle of our 14 straight days of in-service-training. In said training, our days are completely scheduled out from morning to evening with language lessons and technical training. It's difficult to find time to even wash our clothes with so much structure! Our brains cannot compute the amount of busy-ness that is now being thrown at us.

"What? No afternoon sweat-nap in front of the fan? But I need my nappy!"

It appears that integration into our communities may have been too successful and may have negatively effected our ability to absorb obscene amounts information in a small amount of time. That's at least how I'm feeling at this moment. It's great to be reunited and all, but why under such dire conditions!?!

Why work gotta be so much work?!

A cow, hard at work.


On the plus side, the K6 volunteers are no longer on "lockdown" and we are now free to travel the country! As long as we TEXT THE DUTY OFFICER. Hooray! I'm a human again! I really wasn't intending on writing so much in this post but word vomit took over. So here's a sunset:

Oh, that's a pretty sunset!


HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!

Peace, Love, Dove.

I'm Pretty Much Angelina Jolie

Peace Corps is about personal responsibility, accountability, and relying on self initiation.

Making adult decisions when not-so-adult decisions are so tempting and usually much easier to make.

A little over four months in Cambodia, and almost two months into my service, and I've been tested already.

Last weekend, an exciting American holiday was celebrated by people young and old, not only in the US but also Cambodia (among many other countries, I'm sure of it.) Halloween appears to have turned into an adult holiday, no longer set aside for just children to run amuck in their neighborhoods to collect ungodly amounts of candy from strangers. What did our parents always say? Never accept candy from strangers. Halloween is the great exception.

I'm one of those adults who can't grow up and doesn't really want to fully grow up...and I'm one of those guilty adults that LOVES to dress up for Halloween. I love to dress up whenever I damn well feel like it too, but Halloween is a time for me to show off my skills. Costumes. A talent inherited from my mother. Has anyone noticed a trend, btw? My parents are cool people, therefore, I am cool inherently and completely modest.


Lady Gaga inspired me to be a bird once


And now you're asking yourself "what are you getting at, Laura? You always have these backwards intros to yr blog posts and then get to the point after a lot of rambling."
Exactly. That is exactly how I do it.

Last weekend, I made a great "Peace Corps Responsible" decision and did not succumb to the temptations of a Halloween celebration. I, instead, told my counterpart from the Health Center that I would attend her dtaa's (grandfather's) bon k'maoch or funeral party. Initially, I did not know what this would entail and did not realize how much would be expected of me.

Later my counterpart informed me that since her parent's live a little ways out and the party would last a while, it would be an overnight deal. Oh boy. Overnight? In an unknown home? On a weekend where most cool people will be celebrating Halloween dressed like characters such as The Village People or Garth from Wayne's World? (Those were some of my favorite costumes that I saw...)

OH BOY. I had to be strong. Going to the funeral would be an excellent opportunity for me to IRB, or Intentional Relationship Building. (I think that's what it stands for? Essentially it means "Networking") It's just another Peace Corps acronym about not isolating yourself in your room everyday when you could be getting to know the people in your village. And please don't judge me. I may very well be isolating myself as I type this silly blog post right at this very moment but sometimes I just need to take a break from the loudness, the confusion, and the extreme heat-ness that is Cambodia. I hope that's not a crime.

And so, I attended the bon with the knowledge that friends both in Cambodia and America were indulging in the once sugar-induced-childhood-festivity of Halloween. Boo-hoo for me. Right? Ugh...whatever.


Memorial shrine with offerings and incense


Traditionally, guests at a funeral party generally show up, eat noam-men-chop jiamuay tuk curry (Khmer noodles with Curry sauce), give money, talk with the family or friends shortly, and then leave the party. I did not have it easy like the other guests because I went with the family of the deceased and my life was now in their hands for the next 24 hours.


Give your money to the guys under the tent with the microphone, they'll ramble off a khmer something-or-other and then you sompeah (bow)



Rather than spending the obligatory 30 minutes at the funeral, I was there for about 4 hours give or take. Fortunately, I did get to help out quite a bit by clearing tables when guests left and setting the tables for the next surge of guests. However, this process was organized (?) chaos (haven't decided if it was organized or just straight up chaos) as many things are here in S'rot Khmer. I was never really sure how to set the tables so I stuck with what I'm "professionally" trained in. Bussing tables. No matter what I did, it also included an uncomfortable amount of staring from adults and children alike. So many "Chump Reap Suas" or greetings that my words were slurring together by the end of the night. And by the time we left, a hefty sized headache and overall exhaustion.


a crowd of pint-sized gawkers gathering to look at the barang (foreigner)


The headache lingered and haunted me through the night. And to my surprise, we were to return to the party first thing in the morning, at 6AM. Here we go again!

This part of the funeral was more intimate, more ceremonial - including 6 monks, a lot of yays, praying, and offerings to the monks.


Hanging out yays will put a smile on anyone's face.


The most difficult part of the weekend, other than the Khmer language and culture hangover, was being put on the spot and treated differently because I am a foreigner. Once again, I was the token foreigner and it meant that I was given tasks that any other khmer guest would not be expected to do.

I understood the reasoning for this. Khmer people are incredibly kind and great hosts. They want their guests to feel special. And they LOVE foreigners. So much so that, at times, I feel like the general rules of respect are somewhat skewed when it comes to foreigners. I was asked to participate in several activities while the family was praying with the monks. I took a bowl full of rice and spooned it in to 5 different urns set in front of the monks. I was asked to sit at the front with the immediate family by the man holding the microphone. (That man holding the microphone, as wonderful as he was, could not stop mentioning the American to everyone arriving to the party.) I was then given a large bag of more rice and fruit to hand to the head monk. This made me feel especially uncomfortable because I felt like I was being treated like a family member even though I obviously was not. I never even knew the man that had passed.

I'm in this country to learn how the Khmer people live, eat, and socialize but since I'm different, Khmer people usually want to treat me differently. They want to go out of their way to give me things that I want. But all I really want is to be treated like everyone else. I want to eat what they usually eat. I want to just sit around and hang out like they usually do. I don't want to be a spectacle. We all know that I often choose to make myself a spectacle...but it's amazingly uncomfortable when it's not my decision to be put out there as entertainment.

After I awkwardly handed the head monk the offering, he asked me a couple of questions. The questions I generally get from people here - "where I'm from, how long I've been here, and how long I will be here." The monks made me feel a little more at ease but I went back to my seat amongst the yays as soon as possible. I had a little rush of emotions and almost started crying right there. With the lack of sleep, headache, and awkward situation, I was at the breaking point.

I held it together. And my counterparts mother adorably said "Schank you" to me when I sat down next to her. I was then soothed by the hypnotizing chant of the monks. I could listen to the monks chanting to fall asleep at night. It's a common sound heard throughout Cambodia; often put on loudspeakers for all the countryside to hear.

And then my mind began to wander. Like, seriously wander. I thought of none other than Angelina Jolie. It's especially odd because I am not a fan of Angelina Jolie. I think she's kinda a phony to tell the truth but she's been in Cambodia. She has a mullet-headed little boy, Maddox, that she adopted from this country. I wondered to myself "How would Angelina Jolie react in a situation such as this? Probably with the grace of any actress trained to be in front of millions of staring eyes." But then I thought better. "Wait, no! Angelia Jolie probably had her very own personal translator and team of professional Khmer culture experts dictating or more so directing her every movement. Because she's an actress for crying out loud! She's not that great! I'm doing this the hard way and Angelina Jolie's experience in Cambodia will never compare to my experience. No matter how many Cambodian babies she steals!!!


Oh, just a little artistic appropriation. I'm aware that this is severely creepy.


To top it off, I watched this video about Angelina's life changing experience in Cambodia in which she talks to herself in the middle of the jungle. It really captures the beauty of the country but also doesn't really say anything about the country. And then it's capped off with the god awful photo-shoot of the above Louis Vuitton advertisement. Way to be, Angelina. Way to be.

And I'm out.

So we're in Kansas after all....

I have always been a fan of biking as a form of transportation because, well let's face it, cars are terrible. And I was a given a shiny-new-sky-blue mountain bike from Peace Corps but...I...don't....really....need it. My entire town is about the equivalent of 2-3 long blocks in Minneapolis. Okay, maybe four. The mundol sokapeeup (health center) is about 200 meters away from my house. The p'saa (market) is across the street from my house. And those are the only places I visit.

Okay, okay. I'm under-exaggerating a little but a bike isn't necessarily necessary in a place so small. But don't tell that to any Khmer person anywhere because having to walk more than 10 feet is ch'ngai naa (very far.) And I do actually need my bike. I need to ride my bike to cool places like the happening provincial town of Takeo, and to my training village Angtasom to get frustrated that the bank doesn't really provide any services on Saturday but is still open. Hait ai?! (Why?!)

So the bicycle is utilized for necessary trips far and wide in good ol' Takeo Province. I'm also trying to take more aimless trips to villages off the main road. So far I've taken only two such aimless trips on my own and during each of those aimless bicycle trips: I GOT LOST.

What me lost?! How is that possible? Travel with me in NYC; we can get off the subway at a random station and I know which way is north and please trust me (Xin Wang (I love you!!)) when I say which way is the correct way. I know! I have an amazing sense of direction thanks to my weird parents. My mom prefers to read maps and my dad uses landmarks such as car dealerships to find his way. I'm a nice mixture of the two.

My bike ride today started out like any normal ride through the village. Villagers ogling and laughing at me as I rode down the dirt road. Children screaming "HELLO!" at the top of their lungs a little too late as I'm well past their home. And I think to myself "I'm not saying "hello." You lost your chance. And I wasn't going to say "hello" anyway." The sun was beating down with great force but it was a lovely day for a bike ride, nonetheless.


Welcome to the jungle.


I found turkeys. And if anyone knows me at all, they know I like me some turkeys. I didn't chase them down the street as I usually do. I respected the beautiful animals and simply stalked them for a while. I asked a guy if he knew what they were called in Khmer. He did not know. Cambodia has a serious lack of birders.


turkeys! come back! I love you!!!!!!


I biked beyond the landmarks that were familiar to me and just kept going. I found a new wat that was beautiful for the most part, other than a deep hole in the earth and piles of dirt surrounding it. I did not take photos of that.


Wat the Wat?!


Once I moved beyond the wat, I found myself surrounded by mountains and fertile farm land dedicated to more than just rice. It was inspiring to be out there and I really thought I was OUT THERE! Like, I had no idea where the hell I was - out there. But I was happy to be wherever that was. I made friends with a yay and awkwardly asked if I could take her photo. She was more than willing and even had us walk to a bunch of trees she thought were pretty so she could stand next to them.


My new yay friend that I'll probably never see again.!?!


I rolled down the rocky, pot-holed, mud-holed, puddled old dirt road until "WHOOOAAA!!"

NO, I didn't fall off my bike. I spotted two amazing birds I've never seen before! They flew around the trees and spiraled around each other and chirped loudly and brilliantly. I gazed at them slack-jawed and tried to sear their color, shape, and size into my brain. I had to find out what kind of birds they were.

I looked through each page of my "Birds of SE Asia" book only to find one bird that sort of, maybe was the right one; the Asian Fairy Bluebird. But it wasn't the same bird. I then searched the internets, googled the description of the bird, and google failed me. The bird that best fit the image I seared into my brain earlier was the Bronzed Cowbird but according the know-it-all-internets, this bird is only found around the Americas, North & South. Now, what the eff? How did that bird get all the way to SE Asia? Flying, I guess. That's what I'm telling myself, at least.

Bronzed Cowbird. I did not take this photo. Photo by Jeff Wendorff


After my brief encounter with an exciting set of unusual birds, I felt kind of like I was floating through my unknown countryside, encased in dazzling green mountains. I rode blissfully through this wonderland and the question of where I was only tickled at my brain a little. It had been a good hour and a half since I left my house and I wasn't ready to return just yet. I also thought that I'd eventually hit the main road. According to my keen sense of direction...I was traveling Southwest...right? The sun is up there...above my head over there...wait, whut? humph...


Mountains and Fields.


Then I thought I saw a familiar landmark in the distance, a wat placed on top of a small mountain that's right off the main road. I was slightly relieved because I thought my navigation skills were being awesome for me. As I rode on...the dirt road just kept going and it never connected with the main road as I thought it would. "I coulda sworn that was the wat that's by National road 3...Okay, just keep going...you'll get there" was my thought process. "Just keep going. You'll run into it eventually."


So...where am I? Oh look! a mud pond.


And then self-doubt began to seep in. Maybe my navigation skills aren't that awesome. What has Cambodia done to me? It was time to stop for directions. I approached a T in the road and asked a smiling woman where plow layk buy (road number 3) was. She told me to go that way, and then that way and then you'll be there. That's probably what she said. And I was all like "oh, of course. I know exactly what you are saying to me." I will go that way. I went that way and then I was still not there yet.

I stopped for directions again. I found some gentlemen and asked them where plow layk buy was and this time I also asked them "ponmaan kilo brohail?" (about how many kilometers?) One man said "Tramkok? brampeul kilo, ch'ngai" or 7K, far.

HA! Oh, yeah. far... And when he said Tramkok, I thought he was referring to the district of Tramkok which is fairly large, not the town Tramkok. Because I thought I was miles and miles away from home. Remember, I was OUT THERE! And he told me to turn right and go through the wat and some other stuff. I clarified with him several times until I thought for sure I knew where to go. This place was completely new to me.

I did as the gentlemen told me to and biked toward the wat and then I was filled with crazies and confusion because all of a sudden, I knew exactly where I was...I was within 7K from my house. Wait, whut? huh? How is that possible? And in that moment, I was no longer floating and cruising in my blissful state of mind. I knew where I was and I was going home. I felt like someone had smacked me with a large log to wake me up after a happy dream. I wasn't ready to go home.


a nice view


And here I am back in my stuffy room, melting my brain on the internets. I really need to go on more bike rides.

Book Report

By: Laura Olson


Something I learned early on; Time moves slowly in Cambodia. During training, time moved slowly but I was so busy that I didn't have time to realize it...odd, I know. Training was long; at times pretty boring and other times challenging, stressful, and all-in-all, draining. There wasn't a lot of room for philosophical, deep, intellectual thought. I'm also not much of a future thinker. I'm more of a "it's so damn hot and I'm sweating" in-the-moment thinker. Therefore, I was ill-prepared for the reality of my actual service which coincided with a complete lack of pre-arranged structure.

I remember explaining the benefits of the Peace Corps experience to friends and family before I left and "structure" was one of the words I used. I always wanted to travel and experience different ways of living but couldn't just get up and leave the way some wanderers and explorers do. I'm surprisingly too responsible and not surprisingly too obsessed with saving money to just get up and go. Peace Corps would provide me with the structure and new cultural experience that I was too scared to set off for on my own.

And here I am! I'm finally serving in the Peace Corps and have zero structure!!!! Woo-hooo!! Oh, this world is just so funny sometimes. The world of Cambodia is especially funny.

Henceforth! I read books to pass the time. Here we go with the main subject of this blog post! Onward soldiers march! I'm a slow reader and I'm not like every other PCV with a fancy touchscreen book face reader thing. I got me some real live books! They're made of paper and smell delicious. So far, almost every book I've read since in Cambodia, I've been able to relate to my life in one way or another. Is this something everyone does? Probably, but my experience is COMPLETELY UNIQUE compared to everyone else's so I'm special. Just kidding. What am I talking about?? Focus Laurax.

Book #1: Naked in Dangerous Places: The Chronicles of a Hungry, Scared, Lost, Homesick, but Otherwise Perfectly Happy Traveler

By Cash Peters (in my head I keep thinking his name is Cash Powers...)

Don't worry, I'm only getting naked in appropriate and safe places


This book was a gift from my dear friend Geneva before I left Minnesota. It was a perfect gift (given my history with Geneva) because it was in the perspective of a person, Peters, that was not much of a traveler but was hired to be in a reality TV show about traveling to obscure and exotic lands.

I read it so slowly, especially in comparison to other PCTs, so slow that I hadn't even finished it yet and another person finished their 12 book since training started. Holy geez, what's wrong with my brain? It's hard to stuff a lot of things in there all at once.
Either way, I enjoyed reading this book during my first month of training and introduction to Cambodia. There was a chapter dedicated to Peters' short stay in the Kingdom of Wonder and I knew he was talking about Cambodia before he even mentioned his location. Within the first couple of sentences he mentioned something about monks and how it's not even 7AM and it's hot as balls. Or something like that. I'm paraphrasing.

When reading this book, I was very fresh to Cambodia as was Peters' and I was able to laugh out loud in agreement with his initial feelings and reflections of his visit.


So that turned out to be the only book I brought with me to Cambodia other than my travel book and Birds of Southeast Asia book (which I love!!!! Thank you, Auntie Barb!)

So now what? Luckily, my friend Amanda let me borrow her Kindle for a little while and I went for a classic Book #2: "Fahrenheit 451" by Ray Bradbury.
This book let me escape the world around me when I was tired and sweaty. I had very little emotional attachment to the book (perhaps because I was reading it with a Kindle...?) however it did make me yearn to read more books. It felt extremely strange reading a book about a society that burned all of it's books to keep from polluting their minds ON AN ELECTRONIC READER! It didn't feel right. But it kept me distracted.


I lucked out during my one day vacation to Phnom Penh before moving out to permanent site. There are kids in the tourist area of PP that sell books for cheap. The quality is not always that great because they're photocopied versions of the originals and then bound with a cover. I bought two books for $8 (I'm sure I coulda bought them for cheaper but I liked the kid selling them. He was really great to talk to.) The first book I chose was a no-brainer.

Book #3: Lucky Child: A Daughter of Cambodia Reunites with the Sister She Left Behind

By: Loung Ung


The second book by Loung Ung; highly recommended by yours truly


I was extremely happy to acquire this book since I read Ung's first book, First They Killed My Father: A Daughter of Cambodia Remembers before I left the states. I left the book with my parents hoping that maybe one of them would read it (AHEM, Mom. Maybe she did?)
Ung recalls her dark childhood under control of the Khmer Rouge in "First They Killed My Father" and I was captivated by her story. One of the most challenging things for me was retelling the story to my friends and family back home. I wanted them to know about her experience as well as the millions of others that suffered during the Khmer Rouge genocide but it's not something many people want to sit and talk about while drinking coffee and eating brunch.

Once in Cambodia, I found other PCVs that either read the book or wanted to read the book for obvious reasons. Cambodia was making great progress as a nation before the Khmer Rouge trampled on all the efforts made by its people in 1975. It makes me wonder how necessary Peace Corps Volunteers would be had it never happened.

I read Ung's second book, Lucky Child, during my first couple of weeks at permanent site and was probably one of the best books for me to read given my situation. Ung is the "lucky child" as she was chosen to follow her eldest brother to America after they sought refuge in Thailand. All the while, much of Ung's family including her older sister, Chou, remain in Cambodia. Her family in Cambodia continue to endure attacks from the Khmer Rouge soldiers as well as struggle everyday to find enough food to survive.

Ung's new life in America is not comparable to that of her family's suffering in Cambodia however she experiences many personal and emotional challenges that are not apparent to the naked eye and possibly harder for others to understand. Ung is in a new foreign land where she doesn't speak a word of the language and completely depends on her brother and his wife for everything. She eventually begins school but is behind because of her lack of English skills and finds it difficult to integrate for more reasons than just the difficult language.

I was able to relate to Ung's difficulties with finding a place in the United States because I was going through very similar challenges here in Cambodia. How can anyone make real friends and real connections with a new community when everything is foreign and strange? Ung became the token Asian girl at times and I find myself being the token "barang" or foreigner to so many people in my community. Because I am! I look really weird! I have whitish skin, blondish hair, and a big nose! I get that but I yearn for the words to explain to others who I am beyond "I'm Laura, I'm from America, I'm 26 years old, I have one brother, I'm not married yet, I'm a volunteer, I'm not a doctor, I'll live here for two years."


Time heals all wounds. In time, I will grasp the language and hold deeper conversations with my family, friends, and co-workers. While this is still very raw and bpi-baak (difficult) now, I keep telling myself that in one year, I will barely even remember how challenging life is right now. Or I'll look back and laugh at how ridiculous it all was. And even better yet, this isn't even as difficult as it will get! Hooray!

In conclusion, this post took me about a week to finally shell out because it was basically homework. See title (Book Report.) I have more books to review and blabber on about and how I can relate so well to the characters, fictional or not. Books are good! Books are fun! Books are pretty! On to the next one, on to the next one.

And to end this blog post even more narcissistically, here's the most recent photo of myself. Please note that I accidentally cut my bangs. I like them! Sorta! Mostly! Don't worry, I'm still growing my hair out. Never give up! Also, other than the constant compliments about my beautiful skin color, I also get constant compliments about my nose. Now, this is funny to me because I've never been a huge fan of my nose and it's right out there in the open for everyone to see! Either way, the compliments about my nice nose are frequent and coincidently, two babies that are currently cooking here will come out with my nose! My host sister is pregnant and said at dinner last night that she wants her baby to have my nose. One of the nurses at the Health Center is also pregnant and she stated something similar a few weeks ago. So there you have it folks: my nose, my book report, my life. I hope I didn't bore you too much. This was really difficult to write!


OOOooh hair and nose.


I'm out!

Rainy Days and Mondays

Chump Reap Sua (wuzzup wuzzup homies!!!!!)

Hey, guess what? I'm still in Cambodia. I've been here for....hold on let me get my calendar out....82 days. Wait. Seriously?! That can't be right. I counted the days in my calendar (actually several different calendars, just in case) about 10 times and I still don't feel like that's right.

That's a really long time! That's close to 100! And I'm trying to figure out what I have to show for it. There are some days here in which I feel as if no progress is being made. "My language skills are plummeting! I don't understand anything! How am I going to initiate any projects! I can't even take a successful trip to the bank!"...is often running through my head. Especially in the past couple of weeks.

I'm going to give myself some credit. I think I'm underestimating myself. I can't help but compare my "first month at site" experience to everyone else's. My comparisons are based off of very little evidence, as in 2 sentence Facebook status updates worth of evidence. But some days I still read another K6 volunteer's status and think "OH MY GOD!! I'M A FAILURE! Why am I not teaching English to monks yet??" or "Why haven't I measured a pregnant woman's belly yet?!!!!"

This is where reality checks are important but the banks in Cambodia will charge you 3 dolla for those and they won't process them on Saturdays so you have to go back to the bank on Monday.

I needed to (and still need to) remind myself that every volunteer has their strengths and weaknesses. And that I need to use my STRENGTHS to compensate for my WEAKNESSES. How do I use my strengths to compensate for my weaknesses, particularly in Cambodia where I don't speak the language very well and seem to terrify children? Thanks to my previous job at TBI Metro Services (shout out to my homies at TBI! wut wut!), I know how to answer that question very well if it ever comes up in a future job interview.

I spent many hours at the health center "observing" and "taking notes" until I decided I understood that in this room we talk to ladies mien-p'tay-bpooah (preggers) and in this room we talk to people with chu-g'bal (headaches) and chu-bpooahs (stomachaches.) Now, how do I fit in?

Oh, duh. I can draw.

And then you're all like "Wait, Laurax, I don't get it. Where's drawing going to get you in a health center?"
And then I'm all like "Whatever, dude. BE CREATIVE! I love little children and I need to some how lure them into my trap and make them love me back."
And then you're all like "Wait, Laurax...I still don't get it. You make no sense, yo. You can draw and that's great and all but that won't get you anywhere in a health center."
And then I'm all like "Whatever, dude. I ain't no gruu-bpait (doctor) and please remind everyone in my village of this because they keep approaching me with their ailments. I'm a Community Health Education Volunteer! Yay! So I'm gonna educate me some k'mayng-k'mayng (children) that be chillin' at the HC with some coloring pages that have secret HEALTH MESSAGES! Wash your hands you silly billy! Eat yr veggies or else!"
And then you're all like "Huuzzahhhhh!!!! Now I get it!"

END OF DIALOGUE.

Insert relevant photo here:

Learng dai before you eats and after you poops!


And this one:


Eat more than just rice, for serious.


And now I'm working on my "Exercise" drawing which entails bears doing different physical activities. Will people actually consider said physical activities? Now, that's another story. We'll not get into that right now. Nonetheless, I enjoy doing stuff like this.
The first day I brought the coloring pages to the health center, the HC didn't seem to understand the point. Some of the staff started coloring and eventually one of the staff members took the drawings and markers out of the lobby. "Ummmm...no...those aren't for you. Those are for the kids...and don't put it away...noooo....please? Okay. Whatever."
But then I brought them back out the next day and had little children scribbling all over them, front and back. I think these coloring pages are more of an introduction to coloring than to my secret health messages. Either way, I will carry on.
Even if the HC staff still don't really completely understand me, at least they find me entertaining when I draw. And now they're commissioning me to draw rabbits, tigers, etc.



And now, to completely change the subject!
Today is my father's birthday. He is super duper old. And since I'm on the other side of the world from him, I was unsure what to get him for his birthday. The other week I was talking to my mom and she mentioned trying to get my dad to start a Facebook account. I knew my dad wouldn't do it himself so I took it upon myself to get him going on the Facebook.

Go ahead and be his friend if you're not already. The more the merrier! He's a really cool dude. He enjoys The Carpenters and anything related to motor oil...or Bob's Oil Blog...or something like that.

Speaking of, here's a photo of my seriously cool dad:

Here's my cool dad being a cool dad! ohmigawd there are cookies on the table!


Oh yeah, and photo courtesy of my lovely aunt, Barbara Olson.

And did I mention that I have a really cool dad that I miss and love a lot? Hi dad. I love you. Please accept that e-mail from Facebook, now.

Okay, bye.


Much love,


Daughter Laura

Sister Laura, Teacher Laura

Gruusaa khnom neung mut peat khnom (my family and friends),

Here I am, sitting in my new home just a mere 15k from my previous home. Though the distance I've traveled in Cambodia was not far, the differences are expansive. Not so much in the pace of life or the daily doings-comings-and-goings, but in HOW EVERYTHING IS ABOUT 20 TIMES MORE AWESOME HERE THAN AT MY OLD TRAINING HOME!!!!

My new family fits my personality almost perfectly. They have a passion for life that isn't shrouded in tension or silent judgmental thoughts (ahem, previous home.) My host mom is a beautiful woman, inside and out. She is one of the most generous people I've met and already cares for me like her own child. Living with host families in Cambodia makes me realize how important certain relationships are to me. Since females and males here rarely form close bonds/friendships together unless they are married or siblings means that the female relationships I maintain are paramount to my happiness and sense of belonging. It's amazing how much happier I am now that I have a host mom that openly shows her love, care, and respect for me.

Happy host ma after we enjoyed eating some delicious curry


As far as my work goes, I still feel pretty useless at the Health Center given that my language is severely lacking and I haven't put a lot of action into getting a tutor and/or studied Khmer very much at all. I've gone through vocabulary lists with some of my Health Center staff but that's pretty much it.

I'm hoping with all hope that the Khmer language will just come to me a lot like swimming came to me last summer when I basically taught myself how to swim in preparation for the YWCA Women's Triathlon. I do want to give credit where credit belongs, though, to those that did give me great swimming advice - Melissa Tangye, Ellen Cleary....and others that I cannot think of right now. My bad.

One day while swimming in the murky and uncomfortably warm Lake Nokomis last year, I suddenly realized that I was no longer consciously thinking about swimming (ONE, TWO, THREE; NOW BREATHE! ONE, TWO, THREE; NOW BREATHE!) My instructions were no longer on repeat in my head and I was thinking about things other than swimming! I was thinking about a person that was annoying me then and how I could alleviate that situation. I was probably also thinking about what I should eat after swimming. Once I was conscious of this revelation I was elated and felt like the BEST SWIMMER IN THE WORLD! And I was happy.

And for gosh sake, let's try not to compare my super excellent swimming skills unseen by the public in practice to what actually occurred during the Triathlon that was witnessed by thousands (maybe only hundreds.) My swimming technique in the actual race could be likened to someone near drowning and especially new to the water.

Whoa! Throwback photo of the BEST SWIMMER IN THE WORLD!

And back to my main point: that's exactly how it will go with speaking the Khmer language. All of a sudden I'll be all like "hey, what? I'm speaking Khmer and I understand every single word you are mumbling to me right now." And that's how it'll go.
Until then, I will continue to smile and nod...

Here are things:

My host mom set up an English class for me. When we initially negotiated the English class, she said that she wanted me to teach her children English and I was totally cool with that. Of course I'll teach your kids English! They're my new family after all. And then the actual English class poured into our backyard and I was slightly overwhelmed and in over my head. I can hardly speak English, let alone teach it and there are seven eager/overachieving kids expecting to become fluent in this international language.

Sorry kids, you're going to be let down because all you're going to learn is Beyonce songs and Minnesotan slang. Or YOU'RE WELCOME!

Some of my English Students. They look happy.


Teacher Laura (having an Owen Wilson kind of day)


Cool thing:

I went to my first Khmer party this weekend. I still haven't figured out what the party was for though. I asked some of my new little friends (a hoard of 3-9 year old boys, BFFs) but was unable to get a clear answer. I went early with my host mom to help prepare for the party. I kept the rowdy children in order by running around in the rice paddies with them and making mustaches with giant leaves. And then I folded flowers! Pretty!

Purty folded flower thing that I made!


At first I ruled out the possibility that the party was a Birthday party since most Khmer people don't celebrate b-days or even know when their Birthday is. HOWEVER, there was a woman being blessed, touched by a bunch of people, and given many gifts so then I thought "Hmmm...well maybe it's her Birthday....?" And then I was told that she was 112 years old. One Hundred and Twelve Years Old. Muy Roy Dop Bpie Ch'nam. Holy geez, are you serious?

Oldest Woman in Cambodia? INCREDIBLE.


So in the end, I still didn't know what the hell was going on at this party. I was blessed by a monk and it was one of the most challenging things to sit through. When it comes to things like Buddhism and monks, the Cambodians don't mess around. I sat for over an hour in a Sampot (uncomfortable-long-thick-silk-skirt) with my feet falling asleep, switching from one hip to the next. Sweating up a storm and trying to keep my hands pressed together at my chest. The yays (grandmothers) around me sat nearly motionless and in full attention to the monotonous script of the monk. But he wasn't actually that monotonous. He made everyone laugh from time to time and of course, I joined everyone in the laughter to pretend I knew what the hell he was saying. Naturally.

Sompeahs. Khmer people have amazing endurance when it comes to this sort of thing. I, on the other hand, am unable to sit still for more than 5 minutes.


And it's way past my bedtime. I hope everyone in other parts of the world are doing just as well as I am.

Much love,


Sister Laura

Peaze Corpse Danze Mix

I made a playlist. Primarily to share with my fellow K6 almost PCVs. But maybe others will enjoy it also?






Now the world can dance.


and by the world I mean...



myself.

I do-do things here, I swear.

Suas'dai mut peat! (hello friends!)

Something I realized lately is that I have yet to explain to the world what I'm doing in Cambodia. There are several reasons for this:

1. I don't know what I'm doing. That is a lie, but...
2. I do know what I'm doing but it's difficult to explain without a lot of background information that may be uninteresting/confusing to outsiders.
3. The Community Health Education (CHE) program is still very new in Cambodia. It's fluid and evolving as we move forward.
4. I know to expect the unexpected, there is no standard, and every village can and will be different.

The past two weeks of training were enjoyable...to me....for the most part! Hiat ai? Why? Because the past two weeks were much more hands on and experiential. Two weeks ago we grouped up with some awesome Khmer students and did different community assessment projects with them.

One day, I co-facilitated a group discussion about sexual health with a couple of my fellow trainees. This I fully enjoyed because I love the topic. I'm all about spreading the word about safe sex, STIs, reproductive & sexual health to youth of all kinds! Put a sroam-ana-mai on it!!!(Condom) When leading a discussion about such a sensitive subject, there are things that are considerably different and challenging in comparison to an audience of Americans:

1. Khmer people are very shy.
2. Khmer girls are especially shy.
3. Khmer students are accustomed to "being talked at" rather than "being engaged" in school settings. Or so I've heard and witnessed.
4. Khmer students are easily influenced by their peers. Oh, wait...that's not different from the States...but whatever. It still makes it difficult to get individual opinions, nonetheless.

Before the actual discussion began, we handed out surveys for the girls to fill out anonymously. It appeared that one girl had most of the "correct" answers and the others followed suit with the same wording and all.
Best Answer to the question - "Explain in your own words what sex is...":

"Sex is mean that the man and women they make sexually."

And I'm not trying to make fun of their English skills because these girls are far more advanced with their English than I am with my Khmer. These girls are very smart and I'm happy that they even attempted to answer the awkward/embarrassing questions.

The girls definitely knew a lot more than they were willing to share initially during the discussion. It was also interesting to hear what was most important to the them in terms of relationships and sex. They were most concerned about finding a partner that they could trust. We played the game "Sex in the Dark" in which they anonymously wrote any question about sex and we picked the questions randomly out of a plastic bag and answered them as best we could. The most popular question was "How do I find a man that I can trust?"
Well......
How do you find a man you can trust??...very good question. We answered the question as honestly as possible. We stated that it was important to trust their gut, to trust their friend's opinions, and also trust their family's opinions about the boy/man. We also made it clear that we were all still trying to figure out how to find a trust-worthy man and that it takes time. There are plenty of good men out there!


So that was something I did.


The activity this past week included a household survey and "workshop" regarding alcohol consumption and drunk-driving. This topic was decided by the students the previous week during a needs assessment/priority ranking activity. For the household survey, my group went to houses/shops near the Wat and asked people their thoughts on alcohol consumption and drunk driving in their community. Most people agreed that alcohol was a problem in the community. We learned from an officer that 20% of accidents in Tramkok were alcohol-related and that 7 people died in July 2012 due to alcohol-related accidents.

Our "workshop" (I put this word in quotations because it was "kind of a discussion and demonstration" more than a workshop) was held on Friday at our language teacher Siphen's house. We talked about advantages and disadvantages of alcohol, and the cost of drinking and driving. I don't want to bore you much more so here are photos:

DISCUSSING THE COST OF DRUNK DRIVING: DEATH


I also made some awesome posters. The students decided on the slogan and I made the posters like a machine!!!!!

MORE DRINK...MORE DRUNK...MORE ACCIDENTS...MORE DEAD.


I'm going to leave you at that note. You drink, you drive, YOU DIE!!!! My apologies if this post was not as entertaining as it could be. I hope everyone is doing well back in the U.S. of A.
Things are A-Okay here in Kampuchea.


Lots of love,

loRAAAH!

Is this real life?

Dear my friends,

It's 6AM, Monday August 6th 2012 and my house is rockin'. My host mom, Him Sophany (Sophany is her first name, Phany for short) , is having a three day sale. She's a bulk rice vendor but this sale is extra special because it includes breakfast, lunch, coffee, soda, and et cetera. The State Exams are happening for the next three days and she is taking advantage of the traffic in our front yard. We're directly across from a high school and many students from the area are coming here to take the exams. My host mom seems pretty happy about it. She's getting lot of help from her family (people I've never seen before which means they are also probably not family either, just randoms) and she's smiling a lot more than usual. I'm slowly feeling more comfortable around her which is usually pretty good.

Sometimes I think that my host mom is starting to like me more but then again, I think she's just trying to preserve my white skin. It's very hard to tell.
Oftentimes when I leave the house in the morning, she'll smile, touch my arm, and rattle off a few things in Khmer to me. I initially take this as a very motherly sign of love and endearment. But then she proceeds to pull my sleeves down to cover my forearms.

"It's only 7AM and 90 degrees out, host mom! I would be nearly naked if it weren't socially/culturally inappropriate! Please let me keep my sleeves folded up to bare my sexy, sweaty elbows!"

...Is what I would say if it were socially/culturally appropriate to say to any person in Cambodia. Unfortunately, it is not appropriate. Neither are showing shoulders, knees, or Public Displays of Affection. But go to town (literally!) with Public Displays of Defecation.
Aut Ai Dtay! Mut Peat khnyom, Aut. Ai. Dtay.

HERE'S MY HOST MOM SPOONING SUGAR ONTO A PLATE WITH SOME KIND OF ROOT/TREE/VEGETABLE/FOOD/PLANT


Okay, but in all seriousness, I do think I'm making progress with my host family. My host sister, Sopda (Sokda?), continues to be a doll and very helpful. My host dad is very quiet, funny, and kind (a lot like my for-real-father!) Host mom is what she is. A powerful woman. As difficult as it is for me to understand what kind of mood she's in and what she's thinking most of the time, it is more inspiring to see a strong and successful woman in Cambodia than for me to get along with her perfectly. And for that, I am happy. As long as I can get her to laugh at least once every two days, then I am satisfied.

FOR EXAMPLE {And also, side note: it's no longer 8/6/2012. It is now 8/10/2012. It's hard to update blogs...}:
My language group (Team Tiger Growl) took a trip to the Market for our TDA (Trainee Directed Activity) today and happened upon some really sweet Khmer fashion. 3/4 of us decided to get matching Lacoste Sports pants and rock them at our Technical training that afternoon. I was so excited about my new Lacoste Sports pants that I put them on as soon as I got home for lunch. I then ate lunch on the cray (it's like a deck...but you sit on it and eat food on it and it's like a table but not a table.) Anyway, I finished eating and scooted off the cray but did so in an ungraceful manner and snagged my LACOSTE SPORTS PANTS on a snaggley wood panel!

"Skrrrrrrrrip!" said my Lacoste Sports pants and low and behold, I have a large hole on my butt. I say "oh no!" in Khmer, of course, and explain that I just bought the pants at the market today! My host mom and dad laugh and laugh at my misfortune.
Luckily we have this lady (servant?) at our house all the time (she was the one that helped me wash my clothes my first time attempting that whole thing...) whom raced to a tailor with my pants and got them sewed up right away and I was able to wear them to technical training with Team Tiger Growl in practically-seamless-perfection.

Long story short, (tl;dr) my host mom laughed at (with?) me today.

TEAM TIGER GROWL: Amber, Laura, Caitie (not picture: Peter)


Okay, people! Thanks for hanging in there and reading thus far.
Here's a short list of observations/notes/factoids:
1. Sometimes, when I hear chickens cluck it sounds like "Go DJ, Go DJ, GO!"
2. Roosters crow at all hours of the day. Not only at Dawn.
3. Dogs are less of an issue while running now. I carried a stick with me the other day. I did not hit any dogs, OBVIOUSLY, but I did wield the stick at a couple dogs that tried to chase me down. I think they are now afraid/bored of me. Either way, I am happy about this.

4. (This will be a longer note) To preface, I run the same 30 minute loop every time I run and a couple days ago I noticed something new. A small area/commune that was previously the most troubling to me due to angry dogs was actually very quiet this run. I noticed how much trash there was and some small children staring at me. And then I noticed the women at a particular house to my right . There were several women, maybe 7 or so. They were wearing shorts and tank-tops, had bleached hair, and looked very "untraditional" to Khmer women standards. I've seen similar women like this before on the way to Takeo near the railroad tracks. These women are prostitutes. Or so I assume. Either way, one of the women smiles at me, says "Hello" and "I pray for your heart."
This statement only made me feel guilt/sadness and made me wonder where/how she learned that particular phrase. One can only assume.

5. Takeo Province is experiencing a drought which is very disappointing and not good for many reasons. Most people here depend on the rain for growing their rice. Also, a lot of people use rain water as a source for bathing/cooking/drinking/etc. And for selfish reasons, I love the rain here because it's too damn hot and rain does not come often enough.
6. Do not play sports of any kind barefooted. You will regret it.
7. I'm midway through my PRE-SERVICE-TRAINING! Yay!!!!!
8. AND ONE LAST THING: Since this blog is called "Laurax Doodles in Khmer" I will try to post my doodles/drawings more often. I swear I am doing it...
here's proof:

Koala drawing for my friend Kateri



Okay. I'm going to end it here because this is the latest I've stayed up in several weeks (It's almost 10PM!!!) and I needs my sleep!
Love,


LoRAHHH!

It's been, like, two months already. RIGHT?

Sua-s-day!
As you can see from the subject of this blog post, I've been in Cambodia for two whole months now!!! wooooooo!!!!...pause...awkward silence...
Okay. Scratch that. It's been one week. We officially arrived in Phnom Penh last Sunday. I am now in Takeo Province which is about two hours south of PP...I think. Well, know it all Google maps says it's 1 hour and 22 minutes south of PP but that's only true if you are traveling by Delorean or something. And not on Peace Corps Cambodia's watch. Eeek! Say what? I didn't say anything...

All of the K6 trainees are now with their host families as of Saturday, July 21st. My host mom's name is Sophany (Goa-ut chmoo-aw Sophany. Pronounced: Soap-ann-ee...I think) She lives on National Highway (very busy with absurd Khmer drivers), in a nice house with her husband (I can't remember his name....?) But he's a policeman and I finally saw him in his uniform during dinner tonight. He's legit, yo. No one gonna eff with us!
My host mom was a teacher but retired from that two years ago and is now a vendor. She sells bulk rice so there are huge bags of rice in the garage-type-part of our/their house. They also have a very sweet (English speaking) daughter who's 21 years old. She usually just visits on the weekends. Thanks to her I have internet! She's letting me use her internet USB stick thing. I hope to get one of my own tomorrow maybe and UNLIMITED monthly internet. Cuz I loves me some internets.

DO I LOOK LIKE A TERRORIST? THIS IS WHAT I WEAR TO KEEP THE BUGS OUT OF MY HAIR


Tomorrow we begin our day at 7:30AM with language and cross-cultural class with our LCF (Language and Cross-cultural facilitator) Linda. He is strict but I think he will be a good teacher. We have approximately 4.5 hours of this in the morning. Break for lunch and then go to the Wat for our first day of Technical training for our actual assignment, Community Health Education (CHE.)

Things I've noticed that I like/find funny/weird/silly/interesting/(or none of those):

- Host mom eye-rolling. Is this a good thing or bad thing in Khmer culture? Don't answer.
- I'm always tired! I take mid-day naps which, if you really know me, is not something I like to do. Naps often make me feel worse than before the nap took place. I am crabby after naps. And today it DIDN'T RAIN, so when I woke up from my nap I was covered in sweat. Iiiiick.
- My sleep schedule is odd...I go to bed around 9PM or 10PM and wake up several times throughout the night because I'm too hot or too cold (sometimes!) I then wake up before my "just in case" alarm anywhere between 5-530AM. And this works out fine for me since I can go running before it gets even hotter out.
- I love rain now. When you visit me in Cambodia, you will understand. Back in Minneapolis, whenever it rained, I would be pissed because that usually meant I would be soaked by the time I got to work or wherever. But NOW, I'd rather be soaked by the cool rain, than my sticky sweaty self. Sweat is a constant disgustingness sticking to every Peace Corps trainee.
- Little kids, everywhere I go, say "Hello" to me because I'm obviously the coolest person they've ever seen in their lives. (This is not a unique to me, BTWs. Every PCT gets this kind of attention.)

I'm glad I have this:

M and Ms; Boy am I glad I kept you guys to myself...


When I'm not by myself eating pretzel M&Ms, I'm eating delicious (seriously, pretty good) Khmer food with my family. We sit together on this wood-deck-type-thing with our legs crossed uncomfortably (and my feet cannot be pointing toward my host dad...) There's rice (obviously), some type of vegetables: today it looked like sprouts?(yum!), Som-law (Khmer Soup), potatoes (dom lowm barang), and green tea.

I talked with my LCF about running and he discussed this with my host dad. Neither of them wanted me to run on the National Highway...which is the road I HAVE to take if I want to go anywhere, BTW. So my dad suggested crossing the street and hopping the fence of the school to run around the campus. I followed said advice like the good daughter I am...and BEWARE OF DOG has never been more real to me (although that sign does not exist here.) I was able to run for about 5-7 minutes until the dogs that "own" the campus when kids aren't around on the weekend spotted me from their Dog throne. I could feel the three or four dogs tailing me and I tried to "confuse" the dogs by running around the building a "different" direction. The dogs were very angry with me and I've never been more afraid of any animal. I decided to stop running (as advised by the Peace Corps) and walked to the gate "with confidence."
Let's just say...I'm never doing that again. And for the record, this was not one of the dogs trying to eat me.

I'M DANGEROUSLY CUTE, BACK THE EFF OFF.


Today I did myself a favor and just hopped on my sweet mountain bike and road toward people. I was feeling weird because it's difficult to be surrounded by people that don't recognize your "mad-awesome" pantomiming skills. I tried to explain "mosquito net" to my mom yesterday with buzzing noises and waving my hand around my face...She just walked away. I'm making even more weird noises than usual to communicate with my host family.
Anyway...I got on my bike, and called my friend Willia. I knew I was somewhere near her house and that she wouldn't mind me just stopping by somewhat unannounced. She's amazing. I love her. She was napping when I called her and woke her up. The second time I did that to someone today (oops!) We gathered on the side of the road along with two other PCT friends, Miriam and Melissa. Then we visited one of the married PCT couples, Kayla and Kevin.
Long story short, I am going to make it my rule to call someone when I'm feeling weird/sad/lonely and meet up with them. I hope Willia doesn't mind being the first one on my list.

Willia: My Saving Grace


I should probably go to bed soon and before I go to bed, I have to go pee and that is also a scary ordeal...I'll spare you the details for now. This was a LONG post.


Love,
LoRAAH, PCT