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.
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