The grandma in me is strong. She is actually suffering quite a bit in Cambodia. I have no estate sales to rummage through here. I have no aged lace adorning my nightstand. And walking through my neighborhood in Cambodia is not as relaxing and calming here as it was back in my quiet neighborhood in Minneapolis. The grandma in me greatly misses peace and quiet.
These may seem like contradicting personality types and I agree, they are quite different. However, I just so happen to be a "perfect mixture" of the two. Like I said, somehow, I can contain the qualities of a little boy and an old lady at the same time. I blame my parents (ain't got nobody else I can blame for this.)
And all of this brings me to a ceremony I attended last week.
I attended a ceremony similar to the one last week and talked about it back in September. Luckily my language has improved and I finally know what the ceremony is about. First of all, a ceremony is called "bon" in Khmer, which can also mean party in some situations. The bon that I attended last week and back in September was a yay ceremony. In Cambodia, they have ceremonies to celebrate their elders. It's really great. They respect their elders a great deal here and put a lot of effort into their ceremonies.
Yay Party.
My host family was running the show so we got there pretty early. It felt a little like I was back in Northern Minnesota at my aunt Marshelle's house. We were out in the boonies but the place was full of giant pick-up trucks and SUVs. A lot like being in Grygla, MN. As soon as I stepped out of the car, I was bombarded by the little boys I entertained during the last yay ceremony. And so we ran around, danced, and play-fought with each other. We made animal shapes with red wax. I tried to teach them stupid human tricks like whistling with your fingers, loon calls with your hands, and magically detaching/reattaching your thumb. Finally! I have someone to hang out with.
cool kid.
Kids have always been my saving grace in situations where I feel out of place here. Kids usually want to hang out with me (unless they are scared of me) and they don't really give a shit if I don't understand every word they're saying.
My friends.
Then my host mom called for me, told me to put my sampot (skirt) on and somphea the loaks (pray to the monks.) Time to say goodbye to my little friends and turn into a yay. Seriously, praying to the monks is a hardcore grandma sport.
When I stepped into the room full of approximately 100 yays, I was once again bombarded. Every yay in the room wanted me to sit next to her. I was a star! I sat by a couple of yays that were indulging in beetle nut and were almost as bad as the men that chew tobacco at baseball games. Each yay with red and rotted teeth had her own plastic bottle in which to spit in. Red spit spilling down the creases of their faces. And they had many questions to ask me.
Before the party, I had just returned from a very frustrating and damaging trip to Phnom Penh. In Phnom Penh, you need not speak much Khmer. You only do so to get a better deal on a tuk-tuk ride or bargain for a shirt at the market. So coming to the party after not speaking much Khmer was exhausting. Regardless of the mild exhaustion, I felt awesome because I could say and understand SO MUCH to the yays. Mostly I talked about my age, where I am from, why I'm not married yet, and the Khmer food that I like to eat. My favorite moment, however, was when I explained American food, i.e. "hamburgers" to the yays. They really liked the way I bit in to my imaginary hamburger and said "ch'nang na" (very delicious) afterwards.
Yays bath time.
Following the first round of praying was yays bath time. This is something I did not witness at the ceremony in September. All of the grandchildren and other relatives bathe the grandmother. Very ceremonial indeed. And after that was bor-bor time. AKA rice porridge lunch time. Good bor-bor usually consists of more than just watery rice. Good bor-bor that is often served at parties has mushrooms, chicken, sometimes pigs ear chunks (which I will only eat in bor-bor) in it. But what really makes good bor-bor is a hefty serving of bean sprouts and green onions, a squeeze of lime, some pepper, and spicy tuk-trai. Yuuuuuum. I had already eaten one serving of bor-bor with my little friends earlier in the day because I was "kleeun bai" or hungry for rice. While eating with the little boys, they were going at the bor-bor like champs. And one of my favorite lads said "nyam ch'ran chop pael tom-tom!" or "eat a lot stop when big-big!"
Yays getting good and ready for bor-bor. Noms (snacks) on the table already.
Round 2 of praying to the monks was truly a challenge and a feat to determine the most devout of yays. These women are out of control devoted when it's time to pray to the monks. There were three monks and each one prayed and gave something that I'd compare to a sermon. The first monk spoke for over an hour, the second for an hour and a half, and thank goodness the last monk only spoke for about 20 minutes tops. Toward the end of all the praying, many of the yays were folded over like fortune cookies, still with their hands together in prayer.
this is the best photo i could get in the dark. praying yay.
After that we ate our final round of bor-bor before it was time to dance. I told many people I would dance earlier in the day but after sitting and praying for so long I wasn't so sure about it. Nevertheless, I did not want to let anyone down so I danced...I was the first one to get get on the dance floor and circle the table, actually. And it was fun.
This ceremony definitely satisfied the little boy Laura. The grandma Laura's knees hurt from praying for so long but she definitely enjoyed the socializing.
and here are some little girls that weren't so sure about me.
Goodnight and Happy Khmer New Year, Cambodia!
Good Morning, America!
