Now that the Angkor bike race is less than a week away (there's still time to donate!), I can reveal a secret: my bike helmet was stolen recently. Riding a bike without a helmet is a big Peace Corps no-no, so if anybody had known I was riding around without it, something bad could have ensued. Here's the story.
When I first arrived in my town, I locked up helmet and bike in the schoolyard every day during the hours when I taught. Then, people started asking me why I locked them up. "Gom aui kay luich," I replied, which roughly means "So no one will steal it." Well, people laughed at that. No one's going to steal your ridiculous foreign bike, they implied, nor your ridiculous helmet. Seeing as how barangs (and specifically Peace Corps volunteers and Mormons) are pretty much the only people in Cambodia who wear bike helmets, it would be silly for someone to steal such a distinctive helmet. I took this to heart, and pretty quickly stopped locking my bike up in the schoolyard.
Fast forward 18 months. One afternoon early in November, I proctored an admission exam for my computer class. As usual, I left my bike and helmet unlocked in the schoolyard, and didn't lay eyes on them for about 4 hours. When I came out of the exam, I found that my helmet, which had been hanging from the bike by its strap, was gone. I approached the only teacher left at the school, you might call him the disciplinarian/caretaker, and reported the loss. "I bet the little kids took it," I told him. There's a gaggle of small children who play around the high school, since it's such a stimulating environment (people! cows! a pond!). They like to ring the bell on my bike, and I figured they might've gotten curious about the helmet and taken it off to play somewhere else.
The caretaker reported to me the next day that he had asked all the kids about it, and they had said they hadn't seen it. "That's what they would say," I thought, but didn't say anything. I started asking other teachers about it. The strange thing is that their first response, when I said it was gone, was "Is your organization going to buy you a new one?" They have had so much experience with wealthy NGOs with money to spend that they assumed any loss would be quickly remedied by my "wealthy" NGO. I explained to them that no, since I had not locked the helmet, Peace Corps most certainly would not replace it, and further that I was pretty SOL, since you can't buy bike helmets anywhere in this country (as far as I know) and I would henceforth be breaking a big Peace Corps rule.
Once they realized I really did need the helmet back, it came out that some teachers had seen a student wearing the helmet around the schoolyard. At one point, a teacher saw him wearing it as he rode away on a moto. What a ridiculous picture that must have made. At any rate, no one thought to stop the student and ask why he had the helmet, though everyone knew that it belonged to me. And no one knew the student's name. The school's vice principal made an announcement to the whole school that whoever had taken the helmet should return it. This, sadly, produced no results.
By pure chance, shortly after that I went to visit a favorite student of mine who lives about 7 km down the road. I wanted to make sure he hadn't dropped out of school, since I hadn't seen him at all this year. Luckily, it turned out he'd been in school the whole time. I told him my story about the helmet, and he said he knew the student who took it. "But Teacher," he informed me gravely, "he is a gangster." Helpfully, he added, "It's OK, because he is also my friend."
I enlisted this student's help in getting the helmet back. Only a couple weeks later (I was on vacation for part of this), my student brought his friend the gangster to my house, where he handed me back the helmet. I silently rejoiced. I could once again conform to Peace Corps rules and simultaneously keep my head from being squashed like a watermelon by trucks carrying sand/pigs/tractors down the highway at reckless speeds.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Do It for the Orphans
Dear Friends and Readers,
Well, it's that time of year: the Angkor International Half-Marathon (and Bike Race!) is upon us. December 6, to be exact. I've signed up for the 30-kilometer bike race (something like 18 miles), and pretty soon I'm going to stash my mountain bike under a 45-passenger bus to get it over the harrowing road to Siem Reap so that I can test my athletic prowess against people from many nations.
The purpose of the race is to fundraise for Village Focus, an NGO that works with vulnerable communities in Cambodia. Village Focus has kindly waived registration fees for Peace Corps Volunteers. The least I can do in return is appeal to you for a donation, in any amount. You can make the donation online. Just go to http://www.villagefocus.org/angkor_marathon/sponsor.htm, look down the registrant list (I'm under "Elizabeth," not "Liz"), and click on my name. This will take you to a site where you can make a credit card donation. This would really help me look like less of a deadbeat on the registrant list.
I know this is awesomely timed, considering the current economic situation and the upcoming holiday demands on everyone's budget. My appeal is that you do it for the children! Don't you see, the children are our future...
Also, I will throw in a bonus blog post (with pictures!) if even 1 person donates. Isn't that special? Surely.
Well, it's that time of year: the Angkor International Half-Marathon (and Bike Race!) is upon us. December 6, to be exact. I've signed up for the 30-kilometer bike race (something like 18 miles), and pretty soon I'm going to stash my mountain bike under a 45-passenger bus to get it over the harrowing road to Siem Reap so that I can test my athletic prowess against people from many nations.
The purpose of the race is to fundraise for Village Focus, an NGO that works with vulnerable communities in Cambodia. Village Focus has kindly waived registration fees for Peace Corps Volunteers. The least I can do in return is appeal to you for a donation, in any amount. You can make the donation online. Just go to http://www.villagefocus.org/angkor_marathon/sponsor.htm, look down the registrant list (I'm under "Elizabeth," not "Liz"), and click on my name. This will take you to a site where you can make a credit card donation. This would really help me look like less of a deadbeat on the registrant list.
I know this is awesomely timed, considering the current economic situation and the upcoming holiday demands on everyone's budget. My appeal is that you do it for the children! Don't you see, the children are our future...
Also, I will throw in a bonus blog post (with pictures!) if even 1 person donates. Isn't that special? Surely.
Friday, November 7, 2008
A Scientific Approach to Desire
I love rainy season in Cambodia, really I do. But lately I've been finding myself wondering idly when it will end. I ask Cambodians, and they say "Soon." But that word, here, means, "sometime between now and then" so I've stopped asking about it. When I get this equivocal answer, I start wondering if I'm going to regret wishing for dry season once it arrives. I guess a good, scientific way to find out what I really want is to make a list of likes and dislikes about rainy season, and see what comes out on top.
Like: I can fall asleep at night to the gentle sound of rain on the roof.
Dislike: I am often woken in the middle of the night by a storm that is trying to come in through my window to shake my hand.
Like: all the plants are a beautiful, lush green.
Dislike: every surface in my town with an elevation lower than 100 m is now a pond, including my school and parts of my front yard.
Like: the rain washes away the accumulated afternoon heat.
Dislike: the rain re-washes clothes that I have left out on the line to dry.
Like: rambutans, papayas, oranges, dragonfruit, and pomelos are ripe during rainy season.
Dislike: Durians, longans, jackfruit, mangoes, manogsteens, and milkfruit are not ripe during rainy season.
Like: rice needs lots of rain to grow.
Dislike: rice needs lots of rain to grow.
Like: getting stuck in a random place by a heavy rainstorm, making conversation with an interesting new person.
Dislike: that little fountain of mud that bike tires kick up when driving over particularly muddy ground.
Eh, it comes out about even. I don't really have much say in the matter anyway, so I guess I'll wish for the world to keep on turning and be satisfied with what outcome that produces.
Like: I can fall asleep at night to the gentle sound of rain on the roof.
Dislike: I am often woken in the middle of the night by a storm that is trying to come in through my window to shake my hand.
Like: all the plants are a beautiful, lush green.
Dislike: every surface in my town with an elevation lower than 100 m is now a pond, including my school and parts of my front yard.
Like: the rain washes away the accumulated afternoon heat.
Dislike: the rain re-washes clothes that I have left out on the line to dry.
Like: rambutans, papayas, oranges, dragonfruit, and pomelos are ripe during rainy season.
Dislike: Durians, longans, jackfruit, mangoes, manogsteens, and milkfruit are not ripe during rainy season.
Like: rice needs lots of rain to grow.
Dislike: rice needs lots of rain to grow.
Like: getting stuck in a random place by a heavy rainstorm, making conversation with an interesting new person.
Dislike: that little fountain of mud that bike tires kick up when driving over particularly muddy ground.
Eh, it comes out about even. I don't really have much say in the matter anyway, so I guess I'll wish for the world to keep on turning and be satisfied with what outcome that produces.
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