Don't think too much

"Don't think too much" or in Khmer "Kom cut ch'ran" is something my host mom said to me this past week. This is advice I need to keep in my mind at all times. And of course, not think beyond the advice because that would be thinking too much. It's as simple as it comes. Don't think too much. And yet, I am frequently cursed with the dreaded thought circles that I create without much supporting evidence for or against whatever those thoughts may be.

I'm paranoid that people don't like me. I think it's maybe...sort of...a little bit normal for a foreigner living in a foreign world to never really know how people think of them. Culture is different, social cues are different, communication is completely different. So for me, it's easy to start questioning how genuine the relationships I've created really truly are.

I'm definitely an American when it comes to socializing (is it American? I forgot already.) To me, eye contact is the most important social interaction tool. It's important to make eye contact with everyone involved in the conversation, to assure that everyone involved feels included. For most of my child-like adulthood, I have taken it somewhat (and quietly) personal when a person does not make specific eye contact with me. I'm so paranoid at times, that I make a point to observe this particular person's eye contact patterns. I ask myself "who are they making eye contact with?" "why aren't they making eye contact with me?" "do they not like me?" "why don't they like me?" And once I pick up on my paranoid observations (delusions), I begin to believe them simply because I think I have excellent skills in reading other people's body language.

This is a very unproductive and damaging way to think. I realize that. BUT I CAN'T STOP IT!

I've unfortunately taken this evil paranoid habit along with me to Cambodia. And you know what? It was a really really bad idea. I could have packed another shirt or perhaps a better bra but no. I just brought my terrible habit and fear that someone won't or doesn't like me.

I don't know about you guys but these eyes (are cryin')...read to me as straight up fear


As I was saying, eye contact is a very Western social tool. Not so much in South East Asia. In some places, particularly in Cambodia, making eye contact with another person can be seen as offensive or possibly rude. This is not a rule by any means, but it does exist especially between opposite sexes. It can be an especially big no-no for a woman to make eye contact (especially especially prolonged eye contact) with a man. Although Cambodia is progressing as a nation and is beginning to treat men and women more equally, eye contact however, is still not a big part of socialization for Cambodians.

While my paranoia about eye contact was a little much in America, in Cambodia it is absurd, obsolete, ridiculous! And yet, I still use it because I thought it was so handy back in the US of A. But what I'm learning now is that it wasn't handy anywhere, ever.

It is detrimental to my relationship building and I can see now that I'm only hurting myself. It is hard to live in a foreign country. It is REALLY hard to live in a household in a foreign country. I don't speak the language very well and I don't have amazing Khmer body language reading skills. I can't always tell when a person here is having a bad day or just wants to keep to themselves. Therefore I can't take it personally if I don't get the smile I was hoping for or the right amount of eye contact when someone is talking to me.

I'm learning that the kind of socializing that is most important in Cambodia is simply being present with one another, sharing meals together, and spending time with one another. I need to stop obsessing over everyone's micro-expressions and just be happy where I am. Because how many times do you see an elephant walking down your street in America?

I chased this elephant down with my ice coffee and camera in hand.


Also, if you're at all interested in reading a cool book about faces, micro-expressions, and the history of the face - I totally recommend reading the book "The Face: A Natural History" by Daniel McNeill. It's an awesome interesting book that I will probably read again.


Hearts & Farts

Laurax

MOM

It's been a while since I've updated this little bloggie and I feel bad like I've neglected someone. I'm not sure who I'd be neglecting because I'm not sure how many back home or anywhere are really reading my blog. Either way, I've definitely wanted to write more but haven't felt truly inspired by any particular events. This is not to say nothing inspiring happened in the last month. A lot happened this past month. Most noteworthy was My mom, momma jo (I never call her that), came to visit me in Cambodia. That's a pretty big deal. PBD.

There are a number of reasons why my mom is awesome other than the fact that she took a big risk to visit me all the way over here.

My mom is a trooper. I can see where I got my skills in adaptability since my mom came all the way to the other side of the world just to see me. A world I'm sure she never really cared to see for herself in real life before I was assigned to Cambodia. Movies are fine for that. But she did it! And I'm amazed by how willing she was to try new and weird things without much fuss/really no fuss at all (she's not a fussy lady.)

For example: Mom went to a Khmer wedding on her second full day in country. I didn't get to go to my first wedding until my 6th month in country! And Khmer weddings are a thing to see. She missed out on the ceremonial aspects of the wedding - the hair cutting, the fruit counting, the...costume changes. But she did get to try wedding food (raved about by all PCVs) and observe Khmer dancing (slightly loathed by many PCVs.) Regardless of her sometimes very sensitive stomach, she tried almost all of the 8 courses during dinner. She even ate what might have been baby pigeons or quails or other innocent bird. NBD, she's a badass.

Khmer Wedding Dinner: to the left you'll see the bird carcasses with greens and in front of that some pickled vegetables of some sort. DELISSSSCIOUS. Also look at my cute PCV friends: JILL, EMMA, ETC.


Mom kept up with the beer drinking (it's competitive over here) along with the 20 Peace Corps volunteers that she just met. She did not dance but she enjoyed observing the dancing around the table (10,000,000 times. make it stop!!! for the love of god make it stop!!!) (She was mostly observing my awesome dance moves. WHO CAN BLAME HER?)

I know this photo looks incriminating but I assure you, Greg is not slapping my bottom. I'm dancing with the little chub boy named Linee.



Who let her on stage!?! nobody stopped meeeeeeee!!! hahahahaaaaa!!!!


Example #2. The next day, Mom tried my favorite Khmer food, Ban Chaio. I eat it for breakfast maybe two times a week. It's like a crepe but filled with sprouts and perhaps pork? And to top it off, the lady I get it from gives me cha quitio which is a long fried noodle. It's my jam. I'd eat it more often if I felt like spending the 36 cents everyday...HA! (Classic Cheap PCV.) Again, mom ate this and seemed to enjoy it regardless of the potential disaster it could cause later on. Just like me! I don't care if it gives me diarrhea, I WANNA EAT IT!!! Sorry...too much information.

THANK YOU INTERNET GODS FOR FINDING A NICE PHOTO OF BAN CHAIO FOR ME.


Example #3 (of why my my mom is a trooper. In case you forgot.) Following our delicious Khmer breakfast, we hopped in a taxi to Phnom Penh with my two PCV friends, Kateri and Margaret. Oh and this isn't like those fancy schmancy taxis you bourgeoisie people ride in the US of A where the taxi is yellow and says "Taxi" on the side of the vehicle. No, this Khmer taxi is just a crusted old Camry with nothing to distinguish it from all the other crusty Camrys. And we're in NO WAY comfortable. Kateri, Margaret, and mom are squished in the back and I'm kind of hovering over all of them/kneeling on one knee and resting the rest of my body on the others. The driver is sitting with a guy to his left and there are two people in the front passenger seat. I was questioning whether or not I would put my mom through this kind of torture but I did just so we could get our adventure to Siem Reap started as soon as possible. Sorry mom. None of us felt 100% on this taxi ride, to say the least. Yay Cambodia!!!!

Me and My momma in Phnom Penh: Sabaii jet k'nea.


In Siem Reap, we enjoyed amenities that can be likened to a more Western part of the world. We had an adorable room at the Golden Banana Bed & Breakfast (really nice place, check it out.) We ate Mexican food which makes me a little uneasy but my fajitas were surprisingly decent. Mom was disappointed in the Margarita. The temples delivered the Ancient goods and as usual, did not disappoint. When mom was asked whether or not she liked going to the temples she responded with "Oh yeah!" and that's about the most enthusiasm I've ever seen out of her. Her go-to response to questions about mood is "oh, swell" so to hear her say "Oh yeah!" pleased me greatly. Yay! Mom had fun!

CUTE WINDOW FROM CUTE GOLDEN BANANA B&B


After the more than uncomfortable taxi ride to PP and the 6 hour hot-small-seated-bus ride to Siem Reap, I thought we should spoil ourselves and take the Giant Ibis back down south. It's what all the "barangs" ride, one of those bourgeoisie rides in which a chocolate crescent, supposed free WI-FI, and extremely good AC are included in the ticket purchase.

Example #4: Mom was awesome with my host family and people in my village. I don't know if I told her this before she left but I was impressed by her ability to interact with people even though she could say only one word in Khmer. Akhoon = Thank you. While I was getting made-up for the wedding, she hung out with my crew of little girls (my BFFs in my village) and did exactly as I would do. She drew pictures with them and made silly jokes with them even though they didn't understand a thing she was saying. You are awesome, mom.

Mom: THE INTEGRATION MASTER.


Example #5, Mom likes beer. There's nothing more satisfying than getting an ice cold pitcher of beer after toasting under the HOT-ASS sun. And it made me so happy when my mom would make the beer-drinking suggestion before me. "Thank you! You're reading my mind." And you can't go wrong with a pitcher for $2.50.

Example #6, Mom is brave. It may not seem that brave to sign up for a package boat ride to some super exotic tropical islands but there were some things that required bravery. First of all, that boat was crazy rockin'. At one point, all of the bar stools fell over because of the extreme wavage (made that word up) we were experiencing. Along with the bar stools fell some decorative shells and my mom thought it was imperative to save the shell. So mom let go of the boat and reached down to grab the shell and in the process her chair tipped over and she slammed into a fallen bar stool. Oh, mom. You are hilarious. She had a wicked bump/bruise after she rescued the shell. And it's a good thing she saved that shell!

We also went snorkeling which is an activity that I enjoy but also fear with a subdued intensity. While I was talking myself through the snorkeling process ("Breathe slowly, Laura. You're NOT going to die as long as you keep breathing") my mom was floating along with her waterproof camera taking photos of coral and fishes. Why can't I be more like my mom? (IS THAT THE FIRST TIME ANY WOMAN HAS EVER ASKED THAT QUESTION?) Why am I a big ball of anxiety?! We can't have it all...

Mom also got her feet chewed up by pirañas:

new feet.


In conclusion, I had an awesome time with mom even when she drove me a little crazy sometimes. It was a good crazy. It's a crazy contributed to proximity to a person. And being a PCV, I'm rarely not alone. (I'm not sure how to phrase that not-awkwardly...or that...as a matter of fact.) So being around the same person 24/7 for two weeks set me off my regular track of loneliness but it was totally worth it. My mom is easy going and likes to try new things. That's the definition of a good person to travel with.

And to really conclude this blog, here's some Kh-spanglish for ya:

Khnom estoy contenta-jet.

"Hey girl, how you doin?"