My Birthday and others

You have to read the post below first, by the way. This is strictly Part Two.

…

So, she lead me downstairs. And as I climbed down, I couldn’t help but notice that it was pitch black, and that all the girls could be heard whispering and giggling outside. She lead me to the front door, and made me close my eyes. Then, I heard the flick of a cigarette lighter and the crunch of the big metal door being dragged open, as candle-light began to brighten the dark behind my eyes. “OK, open your eyes!”

…. (dramatic pause)..

…ha ha ha….

And there they all were, standing grinning from ear to ear around a tray of home-made, many-shaped biscuits, which propped up five yellow candles. It was SO sweet, and then they all began singing a cambodian rendition of Happy Birthday to You! Well, I felt a little awkward at this point, because it wasn’t my birthday, and I didn’t know if it was some deliberate mistake, or if they’d genuinely got the day wrong (and if I should go along with it anyway!). But when they’d finished Ratha explained to me:

“We know it’s not youre birthday, but you will not be here on your birthday, so we are giving you one today.”

How thoughtful and kind are they?

And then we played wink murder for about an hour and a half (I’d taught them it the day before, so it was nice to see how much they liked it). They made me laugh so much. We had the biscuits in the middle of the circle, and they all began dying suspiciously close to them, then reaching out spookily from beyond the grave to munch! And they must be the only girls who’d rush in with a sewing kit “medical box” to attend to those who’d died too many times :-D Hee hee hee.

Shall we move on? What? We should finish? No chance- who do you think I am? So, we’ll MOVE ON…

Last night I had a dinner with a potentially awkward stakeholder in my charity. There were pretty bit disagreements between this person and the charity, and I wanted to hear things from their perspective for the first time. I thought beforehand- this is either the beginning of my lifetime career in diplomacy, or the beginning of my loss of faith in humanity and my subsequent spiral into lifelong depression.

Well, it turned out (thankfully?) to be neither, but it was very pleasing to have my fath in humanity confirmed: I could understand where this person was coming from, and it was no dark, slimy, Transilvanian cave-of-evil. I wasn’t in full agreement with the person, but I could see that they weren’t a ‘lost cause’ at all. I was mainly just listening, so no Nobel Peace Prize just yet, but for my own peace-of-mind (:-D) it was a great experience.

And that, m’dears, is all

Oh, and lots of love, of course

Christmas, a Birthday, & more

Well hello, stranger!

Yeah, sorry about the delay. I’m veeery busy at the moment because the director is here at work, and then in the evenings… well, I love my girls and internet cafes are just far less enticing. Or is it inticing? Hmmm…

Anyway, I had some doubts about the potential of Christmas in Cambodia. There was really no sign it was even happening, even on Christmas Day itself, even in the main tourist areas. There were a few santa faces plastered to shop doors and a few strands of tinsel in the market. But really, nothing.

So how did I end up creeping around the house in the middle of the night with a sackful of presents, and waking up in the morning to open presents and cards on my bed? And how did I manage to find myself dancing a Christmas jig, singing Aulde Lang Sine (sp?!) in the traditional circle arrangement, and even receiving presents from santa while a choir sang “We wish you a Merry Christmas”???!!!

And at the same time, the temperature was in the high 20s, I had rice for every meal (no Turkey orChristmas pud!) and I wasn’t with my family. I even went shopping for most of the morning… but shopping for chocolate log, chocolate coins, and Christmas music.

Oh, it was such a strange, but wonderful mix! At times so Christmasy it was unreal, at times so NOT Christmassy it was like being in  some developing Buddhist country!

But people can be SO generous. A girl from my class bought me an all-singing all-dancing Christmas card, and must have spent ages writing and decorating the inside, and THEN she sent me a happy CHristmas email. And her friend even bought me a real, beautiful silk scarf in a pretty box, and I know they cost at least $5. Then the girls at PACE presented me with some incredible handmade paper flowers and a handmade box, which I opened to find dozens and dozens of paper cranes, and stars! They really must have spent AGES making them. My co-teacher of just one day gave me a lovely card and a gift-wrapped pen. I got all the girls at the Sewing Training Centre to make Christmas cards for each other, and some of the couldn’t be stopped from making them for me. Then, Catherine, my lovely, had sent me a gift-wrapped copy of Barack Obama’s “The Audacity of Hope”, with another lovely personal note, which was just perfect (I’m enjoying it very much!). And all before the big day, I had many other Christmases (what IS the plural? Damn ENglish language why does it have to be SO BLOODY CONFUSING???!!!) (Hmmph) because… … all my relatives had sent me hugely generous portions of money to spend at will. I couldn’t believe how un-deserted I felt after all the concern people had expressed about me having “Christmas alone”!

And THEN (oof, a very happy blog, and I’m sorry for anyone who didn’t have a nice Christmas and feels I’m rubbig it in their face, but I want to share the wonderfulness of many many many people with you all)… so… and THEN yesterday I had another unexpected celebration: my birthday!

When I arrived home all the girls were showing slightly suspicious excitement levels, and I was told I wasn’t allowed ot go outside, and all the windows to there were shut. And then later Ratha, the superviser, asked me to follow her downstairs….

…To be continued…

The PACE house= love

So I’m in the PACE house. OMG I love it. I have to tell you about my  day yesterday and then maybe you’ll get an idea of why I’m SO glad I moved in…

On Sunday morning (7am!) there was a ceremony at the Wat that we all went to.  Loads of people from the community were there, all dressed in traditional ceremony clothes and beautifully made-up. Because I was with the PACE girls, and the PACE girls were helping serve the food, I got to eat in the back room of the Wat with all the helping staff. I must have been one of very few Westerners to ever sit on the floor there eating rice porridge, and I got some very amused, warm greetings from Khmers who passed through!

The night before we’d attended another ceremony, where we had to sit through an hour of Sanskrit/ Pali/ Khmer chanting. I didn’t get too bored- it taught a bit of patience- but Sunday’s alternative of watching the children from LHA’s projects doing some brilliant and often (intentionally) hilarious Khmer traditional dancing was far more enjoyable! Some of the children were so great- their poise and expression and whole movement was perfectly controlled to put across what they wanted to the audience. The dances all celebrated aspects of Cambodian life: there was a monkey dance, a fishing dance, a coconut dance etc. The musicians were also children from our projects, and some again showd huge talent. The songs are really long, and they play them all by heart. They’re pretty young children too. It made me understand some of the importance of preserving Cambodia’s cultural heritage; the audience were loving the celebration of their culture, the children had a pass-time they could be passionate about (it’s great for them to have something to aspire to), and everyone got to see the joy that can be brought to otherwise ordinary jobs/ objects (like fishing and coconuts!).

Anyway, after lunch at the Wat, I went for a drink with a Western girl and Sophanit (from LHA) and we had a really great chat, and laughed a LOT! Then when I went back to the PACE house, the girls had finished all their work and chores, and were hanging out outside playing/ watching each other play badminton. Unlike the day’s dancers and musicians, everyone was pretty talentless, and the shuttle-cock must have landed in every nearby alleyway, plant pot, bicycle basket and water tank before eventually getting stuck on the roof.  Then we played “monkey”, which is piggy-in-the-middle in a circle, when the monkey (piggy) just has to try to touch the ball. This was sooo much fun. I was exhausted from running frantically after the ball, and away from the “monkey”, andaside from that my cheeks seriously hurt just from laughing! I also got to see how brilliant all the girls are; they’re all up for a laugh, and they’re all really funny when they want to be. They have really strong personalities, and I saw that despite being very kind and modest, they also have no shortage of personal confidence. We must have played for about an hour, and we hardly stopped laughing throughout.

After dinner, they asked me if I could dance. Here we go…

So the youngest, Darlin, showed me two traditional Khmer dances. MY she was talented. She also danced with great poise, and it was clear that despite working hard to learn the moves and get them perfect, she was also a natural. It was great to see as well, because she’s such an outgoing, scrappy, fun-loving girl (the best “monkey” despite being by far the smallest), and to learn she could also dance as eleganty as the best Apsara dancers, and pull it off in her pyjamas, was really mind-blowing!

Then of course it was my turn to learn. We put on the Khmer pop music and after about an hour I’d just about got the “forward two three four, back two three four” whilst crossing and uncrossing your arms… Very slow learner. Some of the songs didn’t have particular moves, so it turned into a mini disco in the front room, which was sooo much fun. I love those girls. Maybe after 3 months I’ll finally have learnt to dance. Or, more probably, maybe not.

Oh, and musical bumps/ statues also made an appearence.

And now I’m SO glad I moved in with them and can’t believe I’ll have to leave them, possibly for ever one day, because they are the kind of girls I would befriend for life given the opportunity. *Sign. Every silver lining…

I hope you’re all doing as well as me. You have Christmas after all! We’re going to have a Christmas party at PACE, and invite the girls from the Sewing Training Centre too! That’ll make about 35 of us. Yaaaaaay!

Lots of love

SSSSSSSSSSally

xxx

So, Placebo played at Angkor Wat on Sunday…

Hello! Firstly, have  a look at this: http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2008/12/08/2440680.htm?section=entertainment

I heared that some Western groups were holding a special rock concert at Angkor Wat on Sunday, to raise awareness about human trafficking, so I cycled over to find it. You’d think it would be easy to locate a rock concert in a 12th century temple. You’d think it would stand out some what, and be comfortably audible over the blanket of centuries-old tranquility. But, akin to the time I cycled past Angkor Wat, the largest religious building in the world, without even noticing it was there, I again failed to find the haystack.

I could bear the pain of this; I had a nice bike ride and was happy to go home and Skype Mum. But today I found out exactly who was playing this rock concert. Headlining: PLACEBO. Oh. My. God. Can you imagine, Placebo, playing at Angkor Wat? Can you imagine a BETTER gig? Can you imagine ANY better way to spend a Sunday evening???!!! AAARRRGGGGHHH!!!

*Sigh. Anyway, these things happen. And I’d already had one wonderful (in the true sense of the word) musical experience that weekend. On Saturday evening, I went to The Singing Tree, expecting to find a Yoga class (ok ok, again, I’d got times and dates mixed up…!). Instead, I heared Indian traditional music and group singing coming from the upstairs Yoga room. I was invited to join. There followed the most hippyish experience of my life so far. I found myself sitting in a room full of serenly-smiling, long-haired, headband-wearing men and women sitting in half-lotuses, eyes closed, singing Indian mantras. It was both relaxing and great fun (fun and funny, a god combination) and when the lead singer left the song sheet and burst into a sporadic and lively “Harry Krishna Harry Krishna” mix, and everyone joined in, and knew the tune and the words and, apparently, the deep joyful significance of it all, I couldn’t help but laugh. How perfectly hippyish.

But the best news of all is- I’ve moved into the PACE house! And the girls are ABSOLUTELY lovely. I am having to work very hard to stop them acting as willing slaves for me. When I arrived “home” yesterday lunch, my lunch was already prepared for me, waiting under a mosquito guard on the table with cutlery and a chair pulled up for me. The same was true for dinner, and breakfast this morning. Then, I had to buy a mattress, shelves and sheets at lunch, so all the girls came out with me and insisted on carrying it all back. Then they helped me unpack it all, made my bed with me, and spent about half an hour trying to erect the make-it-yourself drawers with me (these shelves were impossible and the pictures to help made no sense, so after much umming and arring we gave up). They also expressed distaste at my small mosquito net and insisted in giving me a huge square blue one, which is just GREAT, and putting it up for me. Anything I want, I have to ask them. One, Ratang, even won’t let me wash up without her help, and another helped me wash my hands! To top it all off, when I arrived home from work yesterday evening, they had put up the impossible shelves! I said thank you very much, and asked had it taken long? No, no, they reassured me. I asked how long it had taken. Just two house, they told me. :-O

So I officially feel welcome. As I see them around the house, I can see that they’re great fun, very kind, earnest and intelligent. They are grown-up too. They look after the house and each other pretty independently. I already have a lot of respect for them, and can see that it’s going to be very hard to leave them at the end of it all.

OK, there you go, you’ve got your blog! How are you all? Hows Christmas warming up? Lots of love

Sally

xxx

I’m alive!!!

Ooops, forgot to tell you I’m alive. Well… I am. Hello! I’ll save all my thrilling adventures for later. When they have actually happened. Love

I forgot the funny monk!

HOW could I forget, possibly the main inspiration behind that last blog. Monk Chat’s funny monk.

He sat there in front of us all on a meditation pillow, legs crossed in a hald-lotus, serene look on his face and calm, pointed words falling from his lips. After some discussion of Buddhism itself, this 19-year old began to talk with us about his own experiences of monkhood. He became a monk 4 years ago when he was 15. He’d never set foot in a monastery before, but when he went for the first time, he saw the monks walking round in their robes, and liked the robes so much, and had such a desire to be able to wear them that he decided he wanted to become a monk! He asked his parents for permission when he arrived home. They said he could, but only if he committed to it for 5 years, and he agreed. Voila un monk.

He loved his robe so much, that for the first week he washed it at least once every day. He still does love it, but the washing has calmed down a little.

Now, this monk also loved yummy food. His mum made the best ever. But, after making this committment to become a monk, he discovered that monks couldn’t eat after midday. And the food they ate just wasn’t up to scratch either. At fist he didn’t eat much of it because it was too bland. But four years down the line, he just has to put up with it. I guess the gloriousness of the robe makes for some compensation.

Well, he found this all very funny as he was telling us this, and us barangs were in fits of giggles each time he repeated: ”I was soo hungry!” or “I thought the robe looked sooo good” or “Five years- it’s a long time, you know!”. He also told us about other people’s reasons for becoming monks. For example, there are many “ganster-monks” (his words), whose parents force them to join the monastery because they simply can’t control them. So, don’t think that just because they’re praying Dhamma, you can trust them with your wallet!!! Others become monks in order to get an education, or because they are poor and monks get free housing and food. Some really do become monks because they are devout Buddhists, but I get the sense this is a definate minority.

OK, that’s all. Just a little insight and a giggle I wanted to share. All the best,

Sallsky