This is Asia!

Sunday 6/21/2015

This morning we woke up and had breakfast at the hotel. My omelet with Kampot pepper, ham, cheese and mushrooms was just what I needed to replenish my energy. I was low on cash, but luckily with the omelet, juice and large water my total came to $6.25. It was pouring rain again so our beach plans were squashed. As we started walking into town our tuk-tuk driver from yesterday pulled over to ask us for our plans. The nine of us decided, per his suggestion, to rent a van for $80 to take us up and around the sights of the national park. Before our driver picked us up we purchased brightly colored ponchos for $0.50 a piece.

The ride from Kampot town to the park entrance took around thirty minutes. The road curved around leading up the mountain. It was raining when we began, but as we drove the fog took over obstructing much of our view. We stopped first at an old abandoned Catholic Church. The rain and fog made the beat up and graffitied building even more erie. Bright green moss covered one of the walls. 

Our second stop was either an old palace or an old casino, depending on who you ask. It was obviously once very opulent. It had been raining all morning so the inside was wet with puddles that stood up to a few inches deep. The reflections of the light from the windows on the puddles were beautiful. Surprisingly, there were families sitting on the ground in there having lunch. I explored the many floors alone apart from the group. I was on the top floor looking out when I noticed several of them in their Easter egg colored ponchos making their way to the car. I tried unsuccessfully several paths to make my way out. When I arrived last at the van they were already discussing who would go in to find me. 

Our next stop was a "waterfall." There was a large building with people inside eating at picnic tables. We found out later they didn't serve food there, so all of those people had brought their own elaborate dishes in styrofoam containers. You could hear the rushing water from the path. When I saw how wide the river was I was excited to see the falls. Sadly, the path stopped at the top of the falls so you really couldn't see anything. I'm still shocked they had built such a large building to have at this site and that so many people were gathered there. 

We got back in the van and it was still raining. We asked the driver what else there was to see around the area. Having heard about a damn, he got on the phone with his friend to figure out where it was. He timidly drove the roads leading to the damn, obviously not really knowing where he was going. This may have been the creepiest of our morning destinations. There were more of the swan boats siting on the water, neglected. It was foggy over the body of water, it was hard to tell how large it was. 

We raced back to the van as not to get the seat that was falling apart on the long ride back to the city. I wouldn't say it was a morning wasted, but it is not how we thought we would be spending the day. I think I got some good pictures and we definitely had some laughs.

By the time we arrived back in Kampot it was almost three and we were starving. We sat down for lunch at The Rusty Keyhole. The sign said "best ribs in Kampot" and it came highly recommended by some other volunteers. Out front they were basting and grilling large hunks of meat. It smelled delicious. Jen and I split a "toasty" (a grilled ham and pineapple sandwich) and the ribs. I ordered a large water and she had a beer. The food was amazing and there was a lot of it, the total between us was $9.50. I highly recommend it!

We had time to kill so we walked around town in the rain. I had seen a sign at the restaurant advertising a sustainably and responsibility made clothing store, so when we passed it I made everyone go in. I got a $10 t shirt with a graphic of one of the prayer boxes printed on the front. It was more expensive than items sold in any of the markets, but I appreciate their mission. We strolled through town a it before having dessert. I had a banana cream pie and small coconut cookie for $2.25. Both had great flavor, although the cookie was a little dry. As we were walking back to the Mad Monkey to catch a ride home the fishing boats were headed out for the day. The colorful boats travelled in a pack under the Kampot bridge and past town. 

We hoped in the van for home. After only a few minutes, the driver stopped in the middle of an intersection. He hopped out and two young men jumped in. As the first driver waved his goodbyes, I couldn't help but think "what the hell is happening?" I worried we were involved in a scam or worse. We drove about ten minutes in the correct direction and my nerves calmed a bit. As soon as I was feeling more confident, we pulled over again. Our already full van was picking up what seemed to be a hitchhiker. He settled in comfortably in the front seat with the young man who I hope he already knew. They were in for a long ride sharing a bucket seat. I was still concerned, but considering the language barrier all I said to the driver was "Phnom Penh?" At first his expression said no, but then he nodded yes. I looked to my travel companion, Rannva to see if she and I shared these thoughts. She responded to my worried look with an enthusiastic "This is Asia!!"  We drove anther thirty minutes and dropped one of the front passengers off. The other guy took a brief stop to grab a snack at a food stand selling a variety of fried insects. We drove another hour before stoping on the side of the road again, this time for two bottles of water and a pack of gum. As soon as we arrived in Phnom Penh, we had another dilemma, did these guys know where we were going? The answer soon became obvious. At this point I was no longer nervous about being kidnapped but rather only about how to give directions to someone with this language a barrier. We handed them a card with the information of the star house. The talked back and forth with one another before making a phone call. We soon arrived in a familiar area. These guys obviously didn't know where we were going because they pulled over to ask directions. When they did I took matters into my own hands and propped myself on the bench between them. I gave directions by pointing with my arm, left, right or straight until we were firmly home in front of the star house. These poor guys had to listen to us freak out a bit at every stop and to us singing to music until our speaker ran out of juice. Afterward they blared music of their own. I didn't much like most of it, but the Cambodian rap song that came on toward the end of the ride was catchy. I'm sure they will be telling stories about us about as long or longer than we will be telling stories about that ride.

$5.25 Omelet with Kampot pepper and water
$9 $80 van split for the day to the mountains of Kampot
$4.75 Lunch at The Rusty Keyhole Toasty, Ribs and large water $9.50 split 2 ways
$2.25 slice of banana cream pie and a cookie
$10 $90 van back to Phnom Penh split 9 ways
Today's Total: $31.25

Spicy

Saturday 6/20/2015

Kampot and Kep

Today I woke up in Kampot. Having not seen the city last night we weren't sure quite how far we were from the city center. We grabed a tuk-tuk outside the hostel and made our way to town. The cost was $2 split five ways. I ened up spending the equivalent of $0.50. We stopped for breakfast at a small restaurant by the water with obvious French influence, Veronica's Kitchen. I ate a breakfast of a French crepe with lime juice and honey and a bowl of locally grown fruit. It was a large breakfast and cost $5.25.

We debated back and fourth about renting a motor bike to travel the area. While still debating on the tuk-tuk ride from breakfast (another $0.50) our driver piped in and offered his services for the day. Five of us opted for the tuk-tuk tour while the other four rented bikes.

The first stop was the salt fields. For some reason I thought all salt came from the large rocks like the pink ones sold in specialty cooking shops. I was so wrong. The salt fields were large wet indented squares in the ground. Apparently, during the dry season the water dries up leaving the white crystalline salt. We were the only tourists there, eagerly snapping photos. We peered into a small building that housed mounds of salt. Salt is very cheep here.

The second stop our driver called a fishing village. It was only a small row of huts and boats along the river. I would have driven right past it had I not known it was there, or rather in this case not had a driver tp point it out. I was drawn to the bright colors of the simple wooden fishing boats. One fisherman sat on his dock fixing his net, he didn't seem to care about us tourists.

We drove through the country side dotted with farms growing rice and sugar cane. There were many white malnourished looking cows, fat oversized pigs and skinny balding chickens. At the entrance to the cave we were greeted by a shirtless man. He was happy to pick up a crab and show us it's many babies hiding underneath it's belly.

We paid a one dollar entrance fee and made our way up the two hundred and three steps leading to the cave's entrance. The cave was tall but not deep. It housed a small temple. We could hear the bats but I only saw one dart across from one cave surface to another.

The next stop is called secret lake, although it's really not a secret. The view was pretty, but I was distracted by a very tacky large bright white boat shaped like a swan that you can apparently rent in town. I asked our driver, they don't even have swans in Cambodia!

We stopped at the Starling Farm.  There they grow the pepper for which Kampot is famous. I again was surprised as to where a spice came from.  I did not expect the rows and rows of brick towers with pepper plants growing up them. I had seen peppercorn before, so I did know to look for the round peppercorns on the plant.  Our tuk-tuk driver picked a stream of peppercorn off the plant.  The round balls of pepper where green and red.  He told us it was free to taste and gave us each one of the green peppers. I bit into the peppercorn without hesitation.  It was spicier than I expected and my mouth was on fire. He laughed and said "see why it is free to taste, no one eats much!" He explained that the red colored corns made both the red and white pepper, depending on if the red shell is or is not left on. I tasted the red and it was sweeter and less spicy than the green whose spice was still lingering in my mouth. We went to the shop inside where I stocked up on gifts for my family and friends at home who love to cook.

We stopped in Kep around two thirty. We paid the driver six dollars per person for our morning together. It was raining a bit when we sat down to eat at The Crab Kitchen. We had a table on the edge of the restaurant right by the ocean. Jen and I decide to spilt the Kampot pepper crab. (We planned to meet the others at six for dinner) not long after we had started eating it began to pour! They quickly rolled down the rain cover to separate us from the outside. Soon water came in like a waterfall from the ceiling. We hunkered down and ordered another beer. The crab was amazing, definitely worth the work I was doing and the mess I was creating trying to eat it. Toward the end of our meal we were joined by an Italian man who had moved to Cambodia two years prior.  He bought a bottle of wine and told us about his time in Asia.

We decided to walk down to another place for more beer.  There was little chance of us seeing much if any of Kep today. We played the game heads-up.  I felt like I could be anywhere in the world, playing games and drinking beer.  This experience was not unique and it felt strange doing something so ordinary. It was still pouring down rain and we became worried about the others joining us.  Kep is about a twenty-five minute ride from the Mad Monkey in Kampot and they were on motorbikes.  We finally got ahold of them when on wi-fi via facebook messenger, most of us don't have call service here in Cambodia. They opted not to join us, and I for one was disappointed but thankful for their safety.  It was the right decision.  Having heard from the Italian earlier that the place we had lunch was one of the best in Kep, we went back for dinner. I ordered crab again, it had been so good, but this time I opted for crab curry.  It was just as delicious and an even bigger mess.  The owner of the restaurant also had some affiliation with a tour company.  She called us a cab and gave us a discount on the ride back for eating at her place. We decided to stay another night at the Mad Monkey to avoid spending time looking for another place, not because we were impressed with them.  They moved us to a three person room for the night. 

If ever in the area, I highly recommend hiring a tuk-tuk for the day to take you around the sights and eating at The Crab Kitchen.  I wish you better luck with the weather. 

$0.50 $2 tuk-tuk split to breakfast

$5.25 breakfast at Veronica's Kitchen

$0.50 $2  tuk-tuk split back to Mad Monkey

$1 entrance to cave

$29 gifts of pepper

$6 $30 tuk-tuk tour for the day split

$5.75 Kampot crab split and two beers

$8.50 curry crab and two beers

$5 $20 taxi spit back to Kampot

$8 night at the Mad Monkey

Today's Total:$69.50

I'm too old for this

Friday 6/19/2015

Today we had lesson planning in the morning and teaching in the afternoon. We went to the Russian Market to purchase some school supplies for our lesson then sat down at a coffee shop to plan. On Fridays fifth graders and sixth graders compete in soccer. We taught one hour only and then the boys went to play. We were left with the girls and thought at first we were going to teach them a lesson, but no. During this time we were supposed to play games. We played hangman and searched for words on the board. It started storming and the wind and rain came into the classroom. The storm stopped just in time for us to go out to watch the girls soccer match. They weren't very good, and our sixth graders lost the game. But it looked like they were having fun. We talked to their teacher Sreymom a bit and found out she was twenty five. She too looks young for her age.

On the way home we had two strange experiences. First we were stopped at a corner in traffic. We saw a pan that held the heads of dogs cooking. You could easily make out their jaw line and their teeth looked even whiter next to their charred cheeks.

Second, our driver stopped at a shop on the side of the road, he told us to wait one minute. I guess he saw a pair of shoes he liked, because he took off his shoes and tried on a pair of black rubber ones. I don't know if the price was wrong or if they didn't fit, but he got back in and we were on our way again. Can you imagine if a taxi driver stopped to go shopping? Things are definitely slower paced and not quite on a schedule here. 

After dinner we got in a hired van to take us to Kampot for the weekend. Since we had to leave after work we were going to be home too late to take the last bus there. It worked out to be the same price since there were nine of us. The ride was about three hours. We couldn't see much of what we passed along the way because it was already dark. When we arrived at the Mad Monkey around nine we were tired but ready to check it out. This hostel is obviously geared to young party travelers. I couldn't help but think, I'm too old for this! They showed us to our shared bunk space. There where things on one of the beds to which we were supposed to be assigned. I was honestly relieved when they moved two of the three of us to a private room. We went down to the bar where I got hit on by a young British guy before returning to the comfort of my group. At least he didn't think I looked too old to be here. 

$3 tuk-tuk ride each way split

$3 pair of scissors and two notebooks

$1.25 two packs of construction paper

$2.50 mixed juice

$1.25 cookies

$10 $90 van ride split nine ways

$5 night at the Mad Monkey 

$3 cubre libre 

Today's Total: $29.00

School is not a Prison

Thursday Afternoon 6/18/2015

We met a few friends to go tour S21 in the afternoon. S21 is a school that was taken over by the Khmer Rouge and turned into a prison where Cambodians were tortured and killed. We paid a three dollar entrance fee and hired an English speaking guide to take us around. S21 was different than the Killing Fields. The Khmer Rouge were extremely organized in thier operation of S21. They took pictures of every soldier and prisoner that was there during the four years of its operation. Walking through the hall filled with these pictures I connected with so many faces. I thought about my students in the U.S. who sometimes joke about the restrictive rules, calling school a prision. Here I was in a school that perhaps even some of the young people in these pictures had attended to get an education. For some it was the fact that they were educated that brought them back here under much different circumstances. Even when seeing the pictures of the soldiers, I felt for them. They were just young boys. All dressed in black with matching black caps, they could easily be the boys I teach back home. What made these boys different was their lack of education. They were easily manipulated by Pol Pot, having been promised a more equal society. Most came from poor farming backgrounds. I am not making excuses for their decisions or behavior. There is no excuse for what happened at that prison, I am just saying that when you are poor and desperate and someone offers you something that looks like a solution it is easy to say yes. Seeing the faces of the young soldiers I felt sorry for them but at the same time angry at their actions.

Despicable, perhaps unforgivable things happened there. 

In the first few rooms there were metal bed frames with shackles attached. On the wall they displayed pictures of dead bodies found shackled to the beds. These pictures were taken by the Vietnamese soldiers that liberated the prision. The bodies were beaten (some barely recognizable as being human faces) and killed or left to die. I had to try hard to keep from getting sick from the combination of these graphic images and the heat. 

We moved on to see the cells. The first grouping of cells was made sloppily from brick and concrete. It was not the work of a skilled laborer. The cells were smaller than a twin sized bed. Each cell would house one or two pensioners. The other rooms filled with cells that were still standing were made from wood. Many of the cells still had empty old ammunition boxes in them that had been used as toilets. You have to remember that the prisoners kept here had committed no crime. The Khmer Ruge imprissioned the educated. They tortured them with beatings and by hanging them from rope and dipping their heads in excrement until they confessed to made up crimes. 

Our guide was fifteen and living in Phnom Penh when the Khmer Rouge evacuated the city. During our time with him, he talked calmly about what his people did to one another during that time. Using the terms "my people" and "my country" frequently, he helped me feel his connection to this time and place. He was obviously saddened talking about what happened here. He serves as not only a guide but also a curator of the museum. My assumption is that this is a calling for him and that he longs for people to be informed about what happened here so something like this will not happen again.

The last few rooms talked about the trials of Khmer Rouge soldiers. It was difficult for me to understand why some Khmer Rouge soldiers are just now being prosecuted and why some will never face prosecution. There was an exhibit by a photographer who attempted to find some of the young soldiers who worked at the S21 prision. He interviewed and photographed the few he found. Many of them did not feel guilty for their actions. They claimed they were doing what was necessary for their survival. I don't feel I can make a judgement on everything that happened during that time. I wasn't there and can not understand the compexities of what was happening. I am an educated woman from a fairly well off family, I doubt I would have survived the genocide had I been a Cambodian living during the Khmer Rouge. I do, however, judge the lack of guilt associated with their crimes. How can you kill, torture or rape someone and not feel guilty? I've never had to use my survival instincts, in fact I'm not sure I have them. I think my sympathy and love for the human race is much stronger than my drive to survive, but it's easy to think that when I haven't faced such trials. This afternoon was difficult. Perhaps more difficult for me than the killing fields because I could connect with the thousands of photographs of the victims here. 

If you ever visit Cambodia, I encourage you to visit both the killing fields and S21.  It is important to understand Cambodia's recent past to have a greater understanding of why they are where they are today. If you have the option to choose, I would go to S21 first. I also encourage you to hire a guide.

$3 S21 entrance fee

$2 $10 tip for guide/5

$1 candy bar at the market
Afternoon Total: $6.00

Hello Teacher

Wednesday 6/17/2015

First day at PIO

Today was our first day visiting the school where we will be working for the next few weeks. VAC arranged a tuk-tuk ride for us accross town to People Improvement Organization. PIO was founded in 2002 by Phymean Noun. Noun built the school at the city dump site. Her hope was to convince families living at the site to send their children to school instead of having them work sorting through the trash at the dump. The school now has three locations around Phnom Penh. Although the dump next to the first school (where we will be working) closed in 2007, the area is still one of the poorest in the city. 

(View from the classroom. The building with the red roof and green walls is where the students have computer and seeing classes)

We arrived at PIO school around nine fifteen. John, a man from New Zeland, greeted us at the door. It turns out John came here to volunteer just over three years ago and decided to stay on. He mostly works with the volunteers who come to the school. John gave us a tour of the school campus, although I hesitate to call it a campus because it is so different than what a westerner pictures hearing that word. There was a school building, a small patch of land covered with sand on which to play, and a shelter building for students to sleep in when they have no home to return to. Students who live in the shelter are often victims of poor circumstance, perhaps their parents divorced and remarried and the step parent did not want to raise the child, maybe they have no parents, maybe they don't know where their parents may be.  Despite their circumstances the children were full of energy and joy. Almost every student greeted us with "hello teacher!" and either a wave or a high five. We stopped in the kindergarten class where the other two volunteers that we were touring with would be working. There were one hundred tiny kindergarteners on break running frantically around in circles, locking each other in cabinets and kicking and punching one another. When we arrived much of their attention was drawn to us. We got hugs and high fives. We had requests to pick them up. Many students asked in perfect English, "what is your name?" At the end of the tour John gave us very brief instructions on how to structure a lesson plan. He walked away at one point without telling us where he was going or what would happen next. We sat on tiny wooden stools in the entryway not knowing what we were supposed to be doing for hours. Eventually we surmised that this was the lunch break. Although the star house had packed us a lunch, we were hesitant to eat it since it had been sitting in the heat all morning. We came to the conclusion that perhaps the rice was the safest and forewent the meat and vegetable dish. 

English class began at one o'clock.  Today we were just observing to learn about their teaching methods and figure out how much English they already knew. We were told we would be teaching sixth grade grammar. I made my way toward the back of the class and tried to shove all five feet and nine inches of me into a bench behind a small desk.  The students could tell I was uncomfortable. The smallest boy in the class, Nob, moved his bench out to make room for me. Nob's English was very good. I sat looking on with him for the entire class, asking him questions when I didn't understand what was going on. He was adorable and fairly diligent in his work. At the end of our time together, I asked Nob how old he was. When he said thirteen I just about fell off the bench. He was so small. The entire time I thought he must be nine or ten. We later found out that although we are teaching sixth grade, our class ranged in age from thirteen to fifteen. Apparently, since these students come from poor backgrounds they are older than the average Cambodian sixth grader. 

I was excited to get to work, but even having observed the class it was difficult to figure out their level of English skills. They were working on the difference between will and going to (a fairly advanced subject for which I even had to look a few things up to make sure I understood the difference) but seemed to have trouble with comprehension in conversation. We were told we were to teach unit 8 and were given a very basic book that the students were not using in the classroom. Lesson planning was going to be difficult, but I was excited to get started. 

$0.50 large water at PIO

$.75 tuk-tuk home $3/4 people 

$3 ice cream and a coconut Danish at the blue pumpkin (highly recommend!)
Today's Total: $4.25

Happy Blessings

Orientation Day 2

Tuesday 6/16/2015

Today we took a tour around the city. We met Sreng on the first floor of the guest house. He had a fifteen passenger air conditioned van waiting for us.

Our first stop was Olympic Stadium. Despite its name the stadium has never hosted the Olympics. It is the home to the Cambodian national soccer team. They have a game tonight against Afghanistan. Our guide was worried that the attendance would suffer because the price tag jumped from a dollar 25 to 2 dollars for this game. The people are concerned about the money as much as the principle against such a large price jump. Surprisingly the stadium was open to the public we just walked right in. There were people preparing the place for tonight's game by making food and setting up tents. The stadium also included two Olympic size swimming pools. Even though our day was just beginning I was already tempted to jump in. I'm not sure I will ever get used to this heat.

We drove in a roundabout around what phenom we were told there are ashes of cremated people in the domes. Then we stopped at The Pagoda. The wat looked similar to the ones we had visited in Bangkok. But when we entered it was empty of people except for one monk who sat reading in a chair against the wall. There were large soft oriental style rugs lining the floor. There was of course a shrine to Buddha at the front. But I was surprised to see bright seventies style decorative lighting (like Christmas lights) adorning the head of one of the statues.

We were told by Sreng that we had the opportunity to be blessed by the monk if we wished. Jen, Sara and I were the only ones interested, so we knelt down in a prayerful pose as instructed. The monk sat in front of us and began chanting. He sprinkled us with water. When he was finished he took three bright red colored bracelets and dunked them in the water in front of him. Then he brought us up one by one and tied the bracelets to our left wrist. (I made the mistake of presenting my right wrist since I had a watch on my left, but was told that the right wrist is for males). This was so different than the Catholic blessing that I am used to. The monk spent a lot of time in prayer over us. I had no idea what he was saying but was later told that the bracelet was a blessing of happiness. What a beautiful experience that I wasn't expecting. Afterward we were lead into another building that contained a very small (alter) where we made a wish by placing a sick of incense in a bowl of sand. I found myself seriously wishing for a happy marriage and a child. Not that my marriage isn't happy now, I have just seen so many end in sadness and divorce. A happy blessing was perhaps just what I had needed.

          

The next two stops were not as meaningful or interesting to me. We drove across a bridge to  Diamond Island which was almost deserted during the day but apparently has an event center that is a popular spot for wealthy families to host events. It is one of the only event centers in the area that has a large car park to cater to rich vehicle owning guests. Then we went to the very small Kite museum. Kite making and flying is a traditional Cambodian practice, although it is more rare now. The kites often included a bamboo rod that would create a whistling sound when flown that could be heard throughout the village.

We stopped for an hour at the central market for lunch and shopping, although we only had time for lunch. The restaurant was a sort of fast food Korean bbq joint. I had a bbq chicken leg with fries and a peach soda for $6. We were obviously at a place that catered to westerners because this was co loser to western process. Our food took a long time so we didn't get a chance to explore the market. After waiting for everyone to gather we got back in the van and made our way to Liquid Bar. There we sat and had a refreshing Ankgor Beer. Sreng ordered a plate of fried tarantulas and beetles and invited everyone to try. After the ants and frog last night I wasn't up to it. Jen, Rannva and Natalie all gave the tarantula a try. No one was brave enough to try the large beetle. I was told the tarantula had a bad texture, I'm not sure if I will regret not trying a tarantula, but I most certainly wasn't up to it today. 

$6.50 lunch of grilled bow chicken with fries and a peach soda

$0.25 water

$1.50 one Ankor beer

$2.90 shampoo

$1.90 large lychee juice

$4 mojito

$3 audio guide at the killing fields

$3 $6 air conditioning spilt
Today's Total: $23.05

Phnom Penh- Expectation is Rarely Reality

Sunday Afternoon 6/14/2915

My introduction to Phnom Penh was a very bumpy, thirty minute tuk-tuk ride to my volunteer house. Our driver spoke little English, but greeted us with a UBELONG sign at the arrivals exit. We waited with him for twenty minutes for the three other volunteers we would presumably be traveling with. As soon as everyone was present and accounted for they split us. Jen and I went with one man to a tuk-tuk while the other three volunteers went in a taxi. Our driver walked us to the side of a street that was as wide as a four lane highway. Although, the traffic along it did not stick to a traditional lane pattern. Traffic was heavy with motorbikes, beat up work trucks and new and shiny SUVs. Our driver told us to wait as he bravely walked across the road to our waiting ride. I assumed he would drive onto the street, travel down a while and then make a u turn to come back and get us. But no! He courageously drove our ride accross all of that speedy chaos. As we drove, the road got smaller and deteriorated into a muddy mess of pot holes. Then as we approached the center of town it turned back into solid pavement. On our bumpy and chaotic ride I saw; at least four men openly urinating on on the side of the road, a naked baby on a heap of recyclables, beer girls with pale made up faces waiting on large pleather looking couches outside bars, food stalls, two men on separate occasions balancing ladders on the back of bikes, a small open market with a women selling freshly cut flowers, a family of four balancing on a tiny bike, rows of shops selling everything from tile to handbags and much more. I was already exhausted from my four hours of sleep and our morning at the market, so after that stimulating ride I was overwhelmed with emotion. Was I really up for this challenge? The obvious answer was that I had to be.

We checked in at the front and were pointed toward our room. It was small but clean and organized. There were four of everything, bed, shelf, lockable bedside table with a drawer and cabinet. The bathroom was tiny and the shower, toilet and sink shared the small space openly. With all of the feelings and reactions I was having, I wasn't really ready to smile and introduce myself to people. I needed to decompress a bit, but more importantly I needed to eat. 

We went down for dinner which was buffet style with a large table for all the volunteers to eat together. There were so many people sitting and chatting there already. I mostly sat and ate quietly listening to everyone's experiences so far. Many people were like us in that they had just arrived this weekend and hadn't gotten to work yet. I was too overstimulated, hungry and tired to join their polite conversation. When Jen asked if I was ok I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I didn't want to be the girl who cried at dinner on the first night, I want to be strong. I struggled to hold back my tears, but succeeded. This was all going to be more difficult than I had imagined. 

Pictured: my area of the room

our bathroom

Afternoon Total: $0

What to wear?

6/9/2015

What to wear?

Cambodian women dress conservatively. From my research it is my understanding that most of the time their knees and shoulders are covered. However, Southeast Asia is very hot.  I expect the temperatures while I’m there to run from 75°F to 100°F, so covering up will be difficult. I decided to pack mostly separates in a neutral color palette. With these 13 pieces I can make 31 outfits!

Clothes

1 maxi skirt

1 pair dress shorts

1 pair athletic capris

1 pair linen pants

2 knee length skirts

1 knee length sleeveless dress/swim cover up (not pictured)

4 cotton short sleeve tees

1 athletic moisture wicking tee

2 tank tops

Shoes

1 pair sneakers

1 pair Chacos

1 pair sanuks

Other (not pictured)

1 bathing suit

7 pairs underwear

1 sports bra

2 regular bras

1 rain jacket
3 pairs socks

Update: In Cambodia they did require us to cover our shoulders and knees at work.  You had to cover shoulders and knees in temples in both Cambodia and Thailand.  However, the restrictions were lifted during free time. I didn't need to pack so many bottoms.  I ended up buying cotton shorts and pants at the market that were cooler and more comfortable than the pants I brought.  The underwear from REI were the easiest to wash in the sink and wear again.  If I were spending more time there I would definitely bring a few more pairs of those.  I wish I would have packed one more bra.  I have never been one to sweat in the chest area, but in Asia I sweat everywhere! I wore the Chacos almost everywhere.  I never wore my sneakers or socks. The green skirt from Gap pictured was my coolest most versatile piece.  It has big pockets that worked well for carrying my phone and wallet around town.