Visits are my favorite

What's harder:

A. moving to the other side of the world at age 22, or 

B. letting your daughter move to the other side of the world at age 22 with your blessing?

I'm pretty sure it's B. But that's what my parents did. 

When I first heard about Logos School and its vacant position for an English teacher, I called my mom and basically said, "This is crazy, right? Talk me out of this." Instead, she told me, "What's the harm in applying?" (I knew my dad would agree since he used to tell me, "Do some things that surprise you.") She and my dad were committed to missions even before I was born, so they supported me through my jitters and second thoughts, and hugged me tight at the airport. She later told me, "I felt like you were falling off a cliff and disappearing. If anything happened to you there, how would I even know?" 

Mom and I are kindred spirits. I think my being away has been harder for her than for my dad, though I'm close with him too. But she's never questioned my commitment to being overseas. Instead, she's savored connecting with me over e-mail and Skype, and during my time stateside. She learned the names of countless people she'd never met, read up on the societal issues here, tracked with the ins and outs of my weeks and months, noted how I've adapted to life here. She prays for me every day. She's done an amazing job at long-distance mothering.

Best of all, she came to visit - once with my dad in 2012, and again this month. (My dad couldn't make it this time due to his job, but I'm hoping he'll come again soon!) There's no better way to bridge the gap between my two homes and communities than face-to-face interaction. 

We packed a lot into her nine days here. It reminded me how much has changed for us both since her last trip. Her friend Holly and a Khmer-American girl named Sam came along, both connections through the church my parents joined in 2012, right after their last visit. And of the dozens of people I introduced my mom to here, there was only one repeat from last time: my former roommate, Michaela.

L to R: Holly, my neighbor Panny, Panny's mom, my mom, me

The day after they arrived, we headed north to Preah Vihear, where I did my homestay this summer. Both my mom and I loved the chance for her to connect with my friends there. And it was extra special for Holly, who's been sponsoring Avaty, one of the dorm girls at Plas Prai. (Avaty was completely surprised by her visit, and told Holly, "Sorry I didn't recognize you - in your photos I didn't realize how tall you were!")

Thim, Holly, Avaty 

Sam is volunteering for a while in Phnom Penh,
but joined us in Preah Vihear first

Mom and Holly led a 2-day seminar on children's ministries, which is Mom's job back in PA. So I got to see her in her element, just like she got to see me in mine. I helped translate the handouts and some of the sessions, but thankfully my teammate Joel and a couple of Cambodians were much better equipped than I was to do most of the work. Joel didn't just translate word for word - he took the concepts and made them make sense to the audience, with appropriate examples and jokes along the way. Life goals for me!

Mom worked hard to base the seminar on input from my teammates and their Khmer partners who work in PV. Their top advice: Teach a little, use it a lot. So we used it all! 

Reenacting the disciples and Jesus in a storm: those sitting are in the boat, while those standing are the boat and the waves

We reflected on our childhoods and how adults made us feel... 
   we played the games... 

      we dissected a Bible passage on Zaccheus meeting Jesus... 

         we created discussion questions...

            we planned a lesson... 

               and we taught it to real kids at the end. 

Actually, I shouldn't say "we" taught it: the seminar participants did all the work themselves, with us leaders/organizers as resources during planning. In my group, one girl volunteered to narrate the story of Zaccheus, but she had a nasty headache and couldn't join us. The group felt insecure about their ability to tell it without her on short notice. But another girl ended up retelling it entirely from memory, and did a fantastic job! I was impressed with my whole group's stage presence. They were enthusiastic, caring, asked good questions, kept the kids engaged, and implemented new games and review strategies. 

  

In another group, they made up an original song about Zaccheus. My mom had briefly mentioned that as one possibility, but I didn't expect anyone to try it. In September, I participated in seminars with about 250 Cambodian teachers where they were asked to create a song to review any concept, from colors to chemical reactions. They'd really struggled to be original and not just perform an existing song, even with 10 minutes to work in groups on that specific task. But this group added fun new lyrics and actions to an existing melody ("Father Abraham") to create a memorable lesson. Look at their rapt audience!

After the seminar, Sam returned to Phnom Penh, and Holly stayed on with my teammates (her longtime friends). She loved her adventures, from rice farming, to meeting Avaty's family, to snapping the remarkable photo below: a tokay lizard eating a centipede! I'm glad I don't see either one in Phnom Penh. Lizards in general are great about eating bugs, so I don't mind all the small ones at my house. By contrast, a centipede bit my friend and it burned for a week. No thanks. 

Meanwhile, Mom and I headed south to the beautiful town of Kep, nestled between jungle hills and coastline. 

Our bungalow

We took a day trip to Rabbit Island. It was great, but a leisurely morning walk around it featured a bit more adventure near the end than we'd bargained for. We tried to pass a mangrove forest at high tide, when the shore was underwater. Mangroves are fun to look at, but not to wrestle a path through. However, swarms of sea lice attacking our legs in the water made us decide the mangrove route was worth it for a while. When we despaired of mangroves and tried the water again, the sea lice were gone, but the mud was deep and strong. The very first step sucked Mom in so far that her purse took a dip and her sandal took over ten minutes to find. Next time, we'll plan ahead... or maybe just lounge on the main beach. (Yes, the walk was my idea, and yes, a Cambodian tried to warn me that we should turn around instead of doing a complete loop. My mom should get a medal for not once saying "I told you so.")

Mangroves

At the butterfly garden

Being together in a new context allowed me to reflect on the similarities and differences between Mom and me. She's jumpier than I am: even when I warned her, she still shrieked at the large snail that wanted to share our bathroom. She's more confident in front of a crowd, better at jet lag, and a less adventurous eater. But like me, she was so eager to soak up nature, to relate to people, and to learn and use a bit of Khmer. She had great questions for everyone she met, and the conversations were so much richer because of all that she's invested into understanding my life for the seven years I've been here. We're already looking forward to her next trip.

Mom's done a lot to bridge our worlds, and this visit reminded me how very grateful I am for her.