Random Visuals

This is my sister Phea folding the petals of the lotuses she puts in the Buddhist shrines at our house every week. She taught me how to do it too. The word for pink in Khmer is "color of lotus flowers."

Yum, delicious Durian-flavored snacks. I bought these for my family since they love Durian fruit. However, the wafers didn't taste all that much like Durian and went stale quickly due to the humidity. Next time I get them some snacks, I think I'll try for chocolate-chip cookies.

What Does 105 Degrees Feel Like?

When your sweat rolls down your side, it feels like it's leaving a trail of burned skin. That's what 105 degrees feels like.

My Brush with Fame

The call came one June afternoon from my coteacher. "Come to school now."And then something garbled. Possibly the explanation of why I should go to the effort of putting on my teacher outfit and pedaling down to the high school in the stifling heat when I didn't have to be in class. Which is what, against my better judgment, I did.

The full explanation was easy to understand when not relayed by cell tower: a famous film star was coming to our school! To give us a library!

The first thought that crossed my mind was this: Cambodia + film star = Angelina Jolie. That equation, however, seemed far-fetched, so I decided that some young, scruffy, do-gooder actor was more likely. But I still secretly hoped for Angelina.

The Cambodian teachers crouched together under the shade of a small tree, sitting on benches or motos or their shoes. Waiting. A couple of the female teachers showed me the classroom prepared for the scheduled reception of the star. I tried hard to see it with my Western eyes, as the film star would see it, but my Khmer eyes wouldn't let me. Real flower bouquets? Where did they get those? (Trees in Cambodia are bursting with flowers but the kinds you see in houses and offices are usually silk or plastic.) Fans? The school owns fans? What may have looked like a standard reception to my American eyes 4 months ago was actually a grand welcome.

As the actress and her entourage made their way from their cars to the classroom, I scrutinized their faces in the hope of one of them triggering my memory. A woman walked by wearing a giant pair of sunglasses, and I thought "If that's Angelina Jolie, how do they make her lips look so big in the movies?" As it turned out, though, this lavish reception was set out for an Italian actress named Sabrina. I wondered if I had seen any of her films. (As it turns out, no.)

Once we were settled, the speeches began: speeches thanking all for their attention, money, presence, effort. And after this, we went back outside to talk to the assembled students.

I've done my internet research, and apparently this actress's name is Sabrina Ferilli. She does Italian-language movies exclusively and is married to a CEO of an Italian company. Through an NGO, they are providing funding to bring a library to our school: building, books, and all. It's pretty exciting for the school, as in my opinion the Khmer students need access to more books, especially Khmer-language books. Rumor is the library will be finished by next spring.

Sadly, I have no pictures of Sabrina. But I promise to post pictures of the library once it's built.

Also in the News

Here's an AP article about the Peace Corps' first group in Cambodia. I know the Minneapolis Star-Tribune printed it but couldn't find it online so I'm posting the WashTimes link. Our group has 2 married couples and an abundance of comedians.

A Visit to the Farm

Last week my sisters, our neighbors, and I paid a visit to my aunt's fields. Although we live in a district capital (like a county seat), the urban space is just a thin slice of land along the national highway, away from which the houses quickly give way to fields. So one evening around dusk sister Phea and I rode our bikes out to the north and east so that I could finally see agriculture in action. (I visited the fields near my training village but as it was the dry season at the time there was not much action.)

This is my aunt standing in her field, wearing her kroma (traditional Cambodian garment) on her head. I can't describe how beautiful it was to be out in the middle of a world green to the horizon, with the sun hanging low over the trees and a few solitary farmers, like my aunt, capturing the last minutes of light to finish up their day's work. A cool breeze slid over the fields, but the water was warm, and the frogs quietly sang their songs as we walked by.

Waving goodbye. My aunt, neighbors, and two sisters all prepare to go home. One of the boys caught a crab in the water on our walk back to the road. The balloon survived until we were almost home.

Riding home at twilight. We're taking the water pump, the blue pipe I'm holding onto, back home in the go-yoo-un, which is a vehicle that results from the marriage of a pickup bed and an outboard motor (approximately). The road's bumpy so I had to hold on tight, even though all the Cambodians with me had no trouble staying in the cart.

Next time, maybe I'll try my hand at catching a crab...

The Rainy Season

The rains have started. They don't come every day. They haven't come for nearly a week now. But some afternoons (usually the ones when my jeans are hung out on the line to dry), the clouds roll in, announcing themselves with rumbles of thunder. Everyone closes their windows and stands at their doors or under awnings to watch the poor souls who have some mission that takes them outside during the downpour.

It usually rains for about an hour. The paved streets dry quickly. The mud next to the road becomes dust by the next day, two days at the most. The unpaved rural roads fare less well, becoming rutted and slippery.

Mercifully, the rains also bring cool air. And they bring relief from the monochromatic hot season. Yellow no longer dominates the countryside: now not only the palms are green but the fields as well.

School is over. Wedding season is over. Planting season has begun.

Swearing-In (Only 2 Months Late)

Giving me a blog is akin to giving a monkey a blender. The result may be a fruity, sweet melange, or it could be a shake that smells of feet.

With that in mind, I'm posting a link to a Peace Corps press release about the Cambodia Volunteers' swearing-in ceremony in Phnom Penh on April 4 (see if you can spot me). If the link doesn't work, blame yourself. It's no use blaming the monkey.

http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.media.press.view&news_id=1196

It's Organ-ic!

Back in the States, being a vegetarian was something I did not necessarily because I enjoyed it but because I thought it was the right thing to do. I gave it up because I was told that being veggie in Cambodia is very difficult. This turns out to be true.

But being a carnivore has its pitfalls as well. Specifically, organ meats. Cambodians don't waste edible meats, so in the last few months I've dined on liver, kidney (at least I think so), intestines, and even chicken hearts. Some of these meats are delectable, specifically the meat which I am fairly sure is kidney (it is the color of liver but has an appearance like a leaf under a microscope, small cells outlined in a darker color. [Note: if I want to pursue biological anthropology, I should probably learn to identify organs a bit more accurately.]). Intestines, if they're fried, are also pretty good. Liver is a little bit...ferric. And the chicken hearts it's probably best not to mention.

Don't let this give you the wrong impression of Khmer food. Khmer people eat mostly rice, stir-fried vegetables with meat, and fish cooked many ways, all of which are delicious and healthy. Organ meats make it into very few dishes; I've had them only occasionally with rice porridge for breakfast. I'm trying to learn to enjoy them more. Hopefully before long I'll be ordering extra liver with my porridge.

Shake It, Girls

Last week I stumbled on one of the last things I expected to find in Cambodia: aerobics. It isn't exactly like familiar American aerobics: it has all of the ingredients, just with a Cambodian flair. A group of Khmer women gather around dusk in a backyard where a concrete platform overlooking a deep pond has been erected. Some women sport tennis shoes, others flip-flops. The instructor brings a stereo, which is powered by a car battery (a ubiquitous source of power in rural Cambodia because it's cheaper than a generator and easy to transport and recharge). And then for an hour everyone dances behind the instructor, whose moves are accompanied by shouts of "One, two, three, four" in Khmer.

In the eyes of someone who comes from a culture where exercise is taken very seriously, this Cambodian aerobics class is refreshingly light-hearted. People are friendly and helpful during the class, and if you look around you can see that the women are smiling.

I suspect that part of the reason the classes are possible is that my high school gym teacher is awesome. She is one of the instructors and was kind enough to invite me to join the class this week because I "looked lonely." (I'm not sure if it is true that I looked lonely. For the most part I don't feel lonely.) I think she may have had something to do with the construction of the platform.

I hope my town has more surprises like this in store...

Administrative Issue Resolved

As a result of some very effective lobbying (thanks Lesley), I have decided not to up the security for the blog for now. (I think it best not to mention the role that laziness played in this decision.)