BOOK REPORT #2

Dudes,

Do you ever get introduced to a book, read the first page, and thereupon tear through the pages like it's a bar of fancy chocolate? (mmmmmm...fancy chocolate...)

I've been on a nonfiction kick for the last couple of weeks. For some reason, the idea of reading about fictional characters right now is a big turn off for me. I've got enough stuff going on in my life and rattling around in my head right now that's stranger than fiction. Why should I invest more precious brain juices on those characters? Why not suck up some real earth knowledges? Yes.....earthly earth knowledge sounds delicious right about now.

So anyway, back to the books. I had a makeshift two-person book club going for a month or so, which has since dismantled (story of my life right now. Everything's falling apart!!!! Me, dramatic?) For our second book in our book club, I chose the The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan. He writes primarily about food (which (reading about food) can be detrimental to the mental health of any Peace Corps Volunteer, by the way.) Another book of his that I read years ago was The Botany of Desire, in which he explores the beneficial relationship (co-dependent?) between humans and four specific plants: apples, tulips, marijuana, and potatoes.

You like food? READ THIS!


What I loved about The Omnivore's Dilemma was Pollan's personal experience throughout his journey into the world of different food industries and food-life philosophies. The first part goes into the dark, dingy depths of the corn industry of America. Man, I love corn. But in a very different way than you'd expect. The only way I really like to eat corn is raw (DON'T KNOCK IT TILL YOU TRY IT!) But what I really REALLY love about corn is it's history in America and how it grows. I had a cornucopia of corn knowledge prior to reading this book due to one of my favorite people in the Universe, Jeffry Nistler.

This is Jeff rocking not one but TWO man-purses (the top one MIGHT be a camera bag...)


Jeff is, among many other talents, a farmer and I was lucky enough to work for him for 8 years (hopefully he'll take me back when I'm an unemployed returned peace corps volunteer.) I was a farm hand; especially skilled at hoeing and transplanting melons. Jeff's specialty is sweet corn in the summertime, pumpkins and squash (among other curious gourds) in the fall-time, trees in the wintertime, and exploring Peru in the dead of wintertime. He also builds bikes!

Not sure who is enlightening who here: Jeff on the left. That other guy with the cane is awesome.


And so it was Jeff who instilled me with a great many nuggets of corn facts. This is why I am now proud to call myself a corn snob. But the corn that Jeff grows is different than the corn Pollan highlights in the first part of his book. He attempts to follow corn from a farm in Iowa to one of the many places it could be taken throughout America - from feedlots (or CAFOs: Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations) in Kansas all the way to a McDonald's in Marin County California. Basically, this corn that Pollan is talking about is feeding most Americans unknowingly. Example: a McDonald's chicken nugget (mmmmmm chicken nuggets) has 38 ingredients, 13 of which are differently processed versions of corn. (mmmmmmmm...?)

After he tears the industrialized food industry a new one, he moves on to the "ORGANIC" food industry. And this part just makes me giddy because organic food truly is an industry which is completely contradictory of what the Organic food people are constantly preaching. I understand what organic food is attempting to say and do but how they end up doing it is not by definition organic. There are just TOO many people in America trying to be organic at the same time. So get off your high horse. You're not better than everyone else if you eat organic sausages or granola cereal. And then there's thing thing called "Beyond Organic" which is really what Organic wishes it could be. Just read the damn book and you'll know what I'm talking about.

The last meal Pollan explores is that of a hunter-gatherer which was by far my favorite of his adventures. He killed a wild boar in California which was one of his first experiences hunting. He went morel mushroom hunting with a bunch of weird dudes in a forest. He usufruct some cherries to make a dessert. Can I go back to America and live as a hunter-gatherer? Do I know anyone that knows how to identify mushrooms? If so, please speak up! Teach me your ways.

If you care at all about what you eat (where it comes from and how it is what it is) you should read The Omnivore's Dilemma. But don't take my word for it!!! #READING RAINBOW.

QUIET: Hard thing to come by in Cambodia.


On to the next one, on the the next one: before I let my mind slip into complete malaise, I zapped my next book into motion on my fancy little nook e-reader thingy (thanks mom and dad.) Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain (my new best friend.) My friend and old co-worker Elliott (Read about him here!) gave me his copy when he finished it last year but I didn't have enough time to read it before flying away on an aeroplane to Cambodia. So I downloaded a copy from the mighty interwebs (completely legally; bought and paid for.)

"Restorative Niche": my bedroom in a South Minneapolis basement.


I couldn't put this book down and the best part was, I didn't want to leave my room or my other secret reading nook while reading it. I needed to be alone! I was learning about myself and needed to pay close attention. If you've been an avid "Laurax Doodles in Khmer" reader then you'd know that I've struggled a bit with the "Who Am I?" question, feel guilt-ridden when I hermit myself too much, and feel too much pressure in the spotlight at times. In certain chapters I felt like I was reading about myself!

The book is about 300 pages and I highlighted it 92 different times (awesome feature of the nook)! Here are some highlighted highlights:

• "cross the street to avoid making aimless chitchat with random acquaintances"
• "many introverts are prone from earliest childhood to strong guilt feelings; we also know that we all tend to project our own reactions on to others" (whoa...)
• "people who tend to [suppress their negative emotions] regularly, might start to see the world in a more negative light." (ruh-roh!)
• "self-monitors are highly skilled at modifying their behavior to the social demands of a situation." (hello, pseudo-extrovert Laurax.)
• "taking shelter in bathrooms is a surprisingly common phenomenon, as you probably know if you're an introvert." (I love bathroom hideaways. Stalls are a great place to cry.)
• "we can stretch our personalities, but only up to a point."
• "introverts often feel as if they express themselves better in writing that in conversation." (blogging!)

This book helped me realize that I am not totally whacked out. That maybe the things I do are more normal than I thought they were. It also made me realize why I oftentimes feel completely overwhelmed in my village. Like I've said before, PCVs are "on duty" the moment they walk out of their bedroom and that can be draining when it's every single day, especially for someone with introverted tendencies. There aren't many "restorative niches" or quiet places to re-energize. I think, with confirmation from this book, there are many people that struggle to understand who they truly are. We try to put ourselves in to boxes; extrovert-introvert, outgoing-reserved, etc etc, but we don't have to be one or the other and we really can't be. It's just not possible. I've spent a lot of my life trying to be what people want me to be. One thing that makes me happier than anything is to make other people happy; but my misstep here was not taking care of myself first. I didn't recognize when I needed to disappear and find my "restorative niche" so I too could be happy.

One of my "Restorative Niches": My desk back home. Cluttered and yet so peaceful. Look! I'm on Facebook. Lolz.


You don't have to be introverted to read Quiet. If anything, it just makes you think about what makes you happiest and how knowing that can lead you to a life where you are truer to yourself. Or as Shakespeare once said (according to the book) "To thine own self be true."

Another "Restorative Niche": solo walks in Minneapolis


My current mission(book): Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void by Mary Roach. This lady is HI-Larious. Laughing out loud over here. I also read Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach. I want to be this lady's friend also.

Packing for Mars: puking in zero-gravity and shit. Good stuff.


Read on, friends. READ. To infinity and beyond.

The Entertainer

I'm not gonna lie; I like attention. (I think I've mentioned this before...)

I have, from time to time throughout my life, enjoyed being the center of attention. (Don't laugh.) But one specification is that I choose when to be the entertainer. In order to be the center of attention, I have to #1. know my audience to a certain degree. And #2. I have to feel a certain amount of comfort with my audience. But the overall most important feature of receiving attention is that I have, in some way, control of this attention and if I get overwhelmed, I have the control to at some point run away and hide because sometimes I also have social anxiety and would rather be alone. (Dear audience: I hope you enjoy reading about how crazy I am. I'm not ashamed to admit that I've got issues. We've all got issues! And shoes!)

The Entertainer: I once figure skated to this song.


Now. Picture this: A moderately small village in the middle of Cambodia all of a sudden receives a ghostly creature that walks around everyday, choppily speaking the local language, and petting the dogs. For a handful of the people in this village, especially the young children, this is the first time they've ever seen a creature of such strange facial features and such a pallid skin tone. I can understand how puzzling such a creature may appear and how difficult it would be NOT to stare. But after a year, you'd think - YOU'D THINK!!! This creature would be old news by now.

The village I live in is a spot on a main highway smack dab in-between Phnom Penh and another popular city, Kampot, in Cambodia. It's INCREDIBLY loud - due to the traffic, especially because of the gigantic semi-trucks tumbling and speeding by every minute. And it is very transient. People from all over Cambodia stop by my village while they are traveling around the country. There's a decent sized market for van loads of people to stop and buy food to snack on during their travels. And when this happens, a van load of fresh eyes get to gaze upon the ghostly creature - ME - creeping around the village.

Find the foreigner! Photo credit: Kate Yoder.


Being a Peace Corps Volunteer is a 24/7 job. The moment I step foot out my room, I am essentially ON-DUTY. I have to churn out Khmer to the first person that I set my eyes on. I have to tell people where I'm going and what I'm doing at all times. I was never really a fan of small talk and, unfortunately, small talk is every conversation of my life, ever in Cambodia. Khmer people are the BEST at small talk! People will be rolling by on their motos and ask me where I'm going and not even wait to listen to my response. And rather than asking how someone is - a more common question is to ask if they've eaten rice yet "Hop bai howee rue nou?" It's just something they do. Small small small talk.

Fortunately, I have a pretty normal routine - I eat my breakfast at the same place, I drink my coffee at the same place, and talk to the same people on my way to and from work. Those people involved in my routine everyday respect me and I respect them. However, there is still this spotlight on me where everything and anything I do is somehow different (and spectacularly entertaining!!!) in comparison to everyone else in the village and therefore people must take note of this. People chuckle every time I tell them what I'm eating for breakfast. "Goat jol jet nyam baan chaio neung quitio chaa." ("She likes to eat baan chaio and fried noodles.") They point out that I drink coffee every morning but don't really notice that pretty much everyone else drinks coffee in the morning also. But I guess it's just that much more interesting because I am the foreigner.

When I go running, the same children scream "Hellllllloooooooooooooooo" at me and scream even louder when I don't respond still after running through the village for over a year now. People still offer me a ride on their motos when they pass me while I'm running. You'd think - YOU'D THINK, that after a year, they'd realize that I'm not trying to get somewhere, I'm just exercising. I'm that weird foreigner that exercises and pets dogs.

And I can't help but wonder - is being the foreigner like this in every third world country?

During our pre-service training, Peace Corps staff told us that staring in Cambodia is rude. But somehow this does not appear to apply when the gaze is turned around and pointing like a flesh burning laser on to a foreigner. I still can't quite figure this out. And think that the whole thing about "staring being rude" is a load of crap...

I have never felt so uncomfortable on such a regular basis because of so much unwanted attention. Strangers at the market blatantly taking photos of me with their camera phones. People, young and old, turning 180 degrees around in their seat - rubbernecking - to stare with unblinking eyes at me while I eat my bowl of noodles. I have never appreciated the idea of anonymity so much. The very concept of anonymity seems so foreign to me now that I am the token foreigner.

There are bad days, when I get so fed up with this unwanted attention that I find myself struggling to leave my room. Aren't they bored of me yet? I'm not here for their entertainment and yet, many days I feel like that's all I'm good for. "What's that weird foreigner up to today? Maybe she'll run down the road again." And on the days I don't run down the road - they are sure to make note of it and ask me about it later. "Why didn't you exercise today?" But those are the bad days.

But then there are good days. The days when I choose to be "the center of attention." The days I choose to dance with the neighbor kids in the front yard. The days I humor the random person passing through the village and answer 20 questions for them. My patience for this is growing thin but luckily, it's still present and hopefully enough to last me the next 9 months.

Sometimes I choose to be the center of attention in Cambodia. Photo credit: Hayley Knicely.


And I have to remind myself that I am kind of a novelty to the people in this village. I understand that it is strange seeing someone like me in the middle of nowhere in Cambodia. It just gets old when the 7,000 person is asking me who I am and why I'm here. No matter how much I fight this, it's not going to change. And I need to take this opportunity to teach the people in my village what some Americans are like. This is a goal for all Peace Corps Volunteers serving in all countries throughout the world.

I also have to remind myself that this experience is novel! I forget how unique this experience really is and it's rejuvenating to be reminded of how fascinating my life is right now. The fascination has worn off because of unavoidable monotony but every once in a while something completely bazaar happens and it brings me back to the Kingdom of Wonder - Cambodia. It's not everyday you see an elephant walk passed you during your morning coffee. It's not everyday (in America) you see two grown pigs attached to the back of a moto. It's not everyday the neighbors try to kill the sewer rats with rocks and sticks. There are things that are uniquely Cambodian (as far as I know) that I will miss once I'm back in Cambodia and again, I'm trying to remind myself (look to previous post "TIME SLIP") that my days in Cambodia are numbered. I can't let all this unwanted attention ruin the rest of my time here. It will still aggravate me but I will try to focus on the positive. And won't it be super weird going back to America where no one cares who I am? I will no longer be a celebrity! This is why celebrities go crazy!!! Losing celebrity can't be easy...

Random elephant marching through town. Photo credit: Stacy Biggs

So there was my rant.

Time Slip

Last week, I was sitting around with the nurses at the health center and my favorite nurse, Chinda, asked me how much longer till I go back to America. This is a question I get asked, without fail, EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. And I think to myself "Geez, do ya'll want me get outta your country or what?!" Hopefully that is NOT the case. Most likely it is not. It's actually a pretty obvious question to ask an extremely out-of-place foreigner, especially when they've already been living in your village for over a year.

Anyway, I informed Chinda and the nurses that I have about 9 to 10 months left in Cambodia. And when I said this to Chinda in particular, I felt a pinch of sadness. When randoms ask me that question (EVERY day, remember) I just brush it off. But surprisingly, I have really come to love the staff at the health center. There are days, yesterday for example, when they push ALL of my buttons; when they'd rather sit and "nyay layng"(loosely: chit-chat) rather than take care of the patients that are patiently (ha...) waiting to get helped. Or when they can't give me a straight answer; "Do we have this vaccination or not? This woman has been waiting a while to get it..." The question is received with blank stares...And I am the one who has to inform the woman that we don't have the vaccination and I have NO idea when we're going to get it.

So, there are days when I feel like no progress is being made and I'm just banging my head on the freshly painted wall (thanks to me!!) of the health center. But then there are good days. Days when I walk around with a smile on my face and babies to squeeze. On those happy days, I think about how soon I will be leaving Cambodia. And how it feels maybe a little too soon.

But I'm not going to lie, I can't wait to go home. Home - America - feels like a far off distant land of wonder to me now. It feels so far away and so obscure. A nurse trainee asked me last week to compare Cambodia and America and I was at a complete loss of words. One reason is because I can only speak so much awesome Khmer. The other reason was because I almost couldn't remember what is so different about America compared to Cambodia. It was a strange moment for me.

One good day can make up for a month of bad days in Cambodia. October was a very long month for me...it went by as slow as molasses. And the good day didn't come until October 31st when I got to help with Measles vaccinations at a primary school in my community. I woke up that morning in a bad mood because none of the staff informed me of a plan the day before so I assumed I wouldn't be helping with vaccinations. Nonetheless, I put on my shiny new blue polo with the vaccination logo and went about my morning routine. I arrived at the health center early and several nurses from neighboring health centers were putting together the vaccination kits. They all stared at me with wonder, of course, and didn't ask me if I wanted to help (of course.) I could have put myself out there and asked them if they needed help but my mood was getting in my way.

Vaccination doctor, Loak Gru Koy, on the left. He's awesome.


Our vaccination doctor arrived late, typical, picked up his kit, and just as he was about to zoom away I said I wanted to go. And off we went. Thank goodness I stopped being such a crabby-patty because I had such a great time helping. We vaccinated 170 little kids. My job was to keep count (which I'm not sure I did such a thorough job...) And after we finished up we went to M'layk (a lake surrounded by mountains) sat in hammocks, ate a roasted chicken and felt happy about life. The mountains, trees, and sky shined a little brighter after all of that.

Little ones reaching out to their friend that is crying after her shot


Now, I am trying to remind myself that I don't have much time left here so I have to appreciate everything...or most things.

after each child received their shot, they dipped their finger in ink to prove they got their vaccination already.


I love that all I have to do is walk across the street to the market to eat my favorite breakfast every morning. And that it only cost me about 40 cents! I love drinking ice coffee with the moto and taxi drivers. I like to think I've become sort of an honorary member of their crew when we sit together every morning.

M'layk at its best.


I love that I walk in-between grazing cows to get to work everyday. I love having afternoons to myself - I have possibly watched more TV here than I have in my whole life! I love running through rice paddies and watching the sun set behind the mountains every night. I love that when I'm running, people ask me if I'm tired and my go-to response is always "Aut jeh hot dtay!" which means that I don't know how to be tired. I say this even when I am truly tired but I guess I'm trying to convince myself otherwise. I love that after I eat dinner with my family, all four of our cats jump on the dinner table and have a fancy feast of our leftovers. Is this something that ever happened to me in America? No way jose!

STOP! Hammock time!!!!


So what I'm really trying to say, I guess, is that I appreciate you, Cambodia. You piss me off sometimes but I don't know what I'd do without you. You will forever have a special place in my heart.

And here's a shout out to Team Takeo!!!