A special request

Hey everyone, I have a special request from a student.

"Hello, first I should introduce myself. My name is Hannah Lee. I go to Logos International School in Cambodia and Ms. Cooper is my homeroom teacher. I've been studying at Logos for 5 years and Ms. Cooper is my homeroom teacher. I have one request! The Logos Jog-a-thon is the second week of November. This is when students look for sponsors and ask them to donate money to the school. This is our third Jog-a-thon. Last year, all the donations went to finishing the playground. This year the donations will go toward computers in the computer lab. Could you sponsor me for the Jog-a-thon? This year Mr. Hein, the principal, made a deal with the seniors that if we raise enough money, we will receive money toward our Senior Trip next week. If you sponsor me, then you are supporting two things: our school and the trip.

We also have a great donor from Canada. If Logos raises at least $5000, then he will match our donations. If we raise $10-15,000, he will contribute double our donations. Isn't that great?? This is my last year at Logos and I want to leave a legacy for our school. It would be wonderful if you offer to sponsor me. hehe But it will also be okay if you don't decide to sponsor. Thank you for reading this, and have a wonderful day!!," says Hannah.^^

Jog-a-thon is a great opportunity to support Logos. It helps in enabling us to keep tuition at less than half that of comparable international schools and to offer scholarships to many students. the entire school will run the course together in early November to celebrate the donations we have received. If you'd like to contribute, visit http://www.asianhope.org/, click on "Jog-a-thon" on the left (it shows a photo of runners), and specify that your donation is for Hannah.

Thanks so much for your ongoing support!

The king and I

Last night was my second time attending a concert with the king of Cambodia, I think. It may have been his son, since they both look alike. Both times, he was sitting front and center, but there was very little other hoopla surrounding him. I sat close enough to him both times to hear his voice. I'm not positive it was him, but he was definitely addressed as "Your Excellency," and he sure looked like the two guys whose portraits hang in every building, including Logos.

Seeing him in person drives home the point that Cambodia is a small country with a small capitol, and that there are not many events to attend here. Phnom Penh has three museums, one movie theater (featuring 100% horror movies), one water park, and zero parks wider than a 4-lane highway. To my knowledge, it has no professional performing arts ensembles: not in dance, not in music, not in theater. The nearest hiking, boating, and beach opportunities are several hours away. Worst of all, it has no public libraries, and only a couple of small bookstores. So if you're looking for something to do besides watching a pirated DVD or eating out, your options are limited. Even if you're royalty.

Thankfully, being in a developing country, richer countries often send us talented performers for free or very cheap performances. About once a month, some embassy sponsors a performance, and multiple people tell me about it. Students, parents, and teachers all have it on their minds. I attended one featuring some Canadian dancers, but mostly it's been classical music. I can count on running into multiple Logos teachers there and a decent number of students and parents - especially Koreans. I knew that many Korean students learn an instrument quite well, so it makes sense to me that parents work hard to instill music appreciation in their young budding prodigies. Korean parents gave me and my roommate some tickets, so four of us attended together.

Last night's concert was by a Korean soprano, Kim In Hye, and the audience was at least 90% Korean. She was fun to watch because she's an opera singer, so her gestures and facial expressions added a lot. Even between songs, she beamed and laughed and genuinely seemed to enjoy the whole show. Her sparkly purple dress, which looked like a Barbie outfit, augmented the effect. I loved her Spanish folk songs, but the most memorable was a rousing rendition of "O Happy Day." It was hard not to crack up at the combination of her and the song, but you could tell she loved it!

For her encore, she brought up a young Khmer girl, and they sang a Khmer song together. She told the girl, "I'm a born-again Christian, and I want you to know that Jesus loves you." Pretty special for an event sponsored entirely by secular entities. Kim In Hye was so nervous about her pronunciation of Khmer words - it was really cute. She blew all my stereotypes of the haughty opera star.

At the end, for her second encore, she sang a traditional Korean song and had all those Korean audience members join in. I appreciated that. It seems bizarre to me that the ultra-patriotic Koreans value classical music so much, but never include their own culture's music in performances. The rest of her performance had been exclusively European and American music. It was a beautiful song, though I'm not sure what it was, and a satisfying end to a fun concert.

Off to school...

with my roommate Sarah yesterday morning on our trusty moto, Fang, after it rained a bit Monday night.


See the post below for the rest of the story.

All in a day's work

It rained yesterday.

Yeah, it's rainy season, and yeah, it rained more than normal yesterday. Still, nobody really commented on it, and we were surprised last night to find water six inches deep on our drive home. It worked out, though. I figured today would be a good day to bring a camera en route to school, in case there was still flooding.

I was right.

On our street, the water had subsided considerably. But the farther we drove, the deeper the water got. The term "water" is used loosely - I spotted or felt lots of garbage floating in it, as well as plant matter and toilet paper. And while I didn't see them, I know rat corpses were there too, because they normally litter the streets.

I heard there were even fish from nearby lakes. Quote of the day from Sarah's class: "This morning my dad went fishing in my grandma's house!" Her teaching assistant saw people using fishing nets in the road.

When we saw a broken-down truck just ahead, we knew we were in for it, but turning around would've been just as difficult.

Having successfully navigated about 1.5 km of flooding, we succumbed in the final 1/2 km. We knew we were in good company - most people around us had also started walking their vehicles. But when we reached higher ground, we were in trouble. Most people around us were still able to start their motos, at least using the kick-starter. We were not so fortunate.

We called Dean, the elementary principal, for advice. It was just before 7, so we weren't sure he knew how bad the flooding was. "Our moto broke down - do we really want the kids driving in this? Could we maybe delay school?"

"You'll be fine. Just keep pushing it and try to kick-start it every few hundred yards. The kids might be late, but flooding's no big deal here. This is Cambodia!"

We walked it about a kilometer, mostly submerged about 6 inches deep. It was slow going. Everyone was laughing at us as they drove past us in the comparatively shallow water. When we reached a cafe we knew, we decided to leave it there and have them lock it up for us. Then we both caught motodups (motorcycle taxis) to school.

We arrived at 7:35, over an hour after we left, just in time for staff devotions. At least I hadn't counted today on last-minute photocopying or planning...for once! I ended up going straight into first period without even having rinsed off my legs and feet. My students all seemed unconcerned about the flooding. But a Cambodian co-worker said this might be the biggest flood she can remember.

After school, Sarah and I left early to take a motodup back to the cafe and pick up our moto. But Suorsdai (her name is also a common greeting) and her adorable little sister saw us walking away from school and offered us a lift in their tuk-tuk. We were so grateful. Their camera-shy brother Solomon, in Sarah's 1st grade class, was enthralled to have us aboard. He *loves* attention from teachers. "And we can tell EVERYone about this, right?"

At the cafe, the guys outside tried to help us kick-start the moto again. After 20 minutes and four of them, they concluded it was a futile effort. They advised us to take it to a repair shop, so we set off, pushing it through the still-flooded streets to new waves of laughter.

We were concerned about finding a moto repair guy who spoke English, but the first place we stopped had a Cambodian guy from Philadelphia! (Cheltenham, to be precise.) It was a great answer to prayer. He and his co-workers quickly set to work. The giant battery they used to jump the moto...at least 10 times...is labeled "BUS." Yeah, did I mention this repair shop doesn't normally serve motos?

They used bare hands to touch the stripped wires to the contact points. Sarah, whose brothers spent weeks in the hospital following an electrical accident, couldn't bear to watch.

Though we described how high the water had been, they acted absolutely shocked every time they opened something and water flowed out. This happened about 5 different times. Notice how the oil and water that poured out together separated into a Yin-Yang shape. That has to be symbolic, though I'm not sure how.


These five guys dropped everything to help us for 2 1/2 hours. Note the one with his shirt up - that's very Khmer, only he doesn't have a beer belly like most of the old guys that do this. The one in the striped blue and red shirt is the Philadelphia resident.


90 minutes later, five guys had multiplied to 10 - with at least 3 onlookers on the right (not counting Sarah or me). By that point, they could successfully jump-start it and were hopeful about it starting on its own. They tried to fix it, reassembled it, tried to fix it, and the cycle continued.

Meanwhile, we were nervous about leaving after dark. We asked if we could leave it overnight, feeling SO grateful that we trusted them enough to consider it. But they kept reassuring us that they were almost finished and just had to reassemble it. We dilly-dallied for an hour, then called our trusty tuk-tuk driver, Mop. By the time he arrived, the moto was consistently starting, but they were worried that a drive home through the still-flooded streets might be overly taxing. So we paid our $8 (oil change included) and headed home sans moto.

Tomorrow, we're taking a tuk-tuk to school. But in the afternoon, we'll be back for you, moto dearest!

Oh, and did I mention it's been raining for hours again today?

Not-so-happy childhoods

At a recent staff retreat, many of us shared our testimonies. It was amazing to hear everyone's stories, but especially those of the Khmer teachers and assistants. Sometimes, since they know English and have good-paying jobs, and they were born after the Khmer Rouge era, it seems like they're the lucky ones compared to most Cambodians. I forget that they've experienced a lot of suffering, just like nearly all Cambodians. Some details that stood out to me:

-Sophorn sold porridge and fruit in the streets starting at age 16, when her dad died. She spent a year teaching in the US 2 years ago, and describes it as "my chance to be a teenager." It was the most freedom and the fewest responsibilities she'd ever had.

-When Piseth was young, his dad spent three years in the hospital. Every day, Piseth rode his bike for miles to bring his dad food. Only months after his dad recovered, he deserted the family for another woman. For years, Piseth timed his walk to school to avoid running into his dad en route to work. On another topic: when Piseth became a Christian, all his friends called him "Son of God." For years, he worshiped God in the bathroom - the only place in his house with privacy. It's still where he feels closest to God!

-Somien, the oldest child in his family, watched his siblings get split up into several orphanages when he was about 12. He kept running away from his orphanage and soon joined a gang. He cried as he told his story. Today, he's a teaching assistant in kindergarten, and has earned the trust of all the little ones. He hopes to start a school in the provinces in a few years.

-Sokcha's dad spoke out too much against the government during the civil war in the late '80s. His family had to leave abruptly for a refugee camp in Thailand. The journey through the jungle, surrounded by land mines, took weeks on foot and by bicycle. His family of four rode on one bicycle taxi = 5 people total for miles on a dirt path. At the camp, he was the worst student in his class, earning 0's on everything. His parents beat him for his grades. One day, his teacher became so frustrated with him that she slammed his head against the chalkboard. About a week later, everything started to make sense, and he became a top student. Today, he's a brilliant math and physics teacher.

Quirks of Daily Life

I've realized that my life in Cambodia has many quirks that I never think to write about. Some of these make me laugh, some I just take for granted, but none of them were part of my US life. So I'll share a few, in order to deepen your understanding of this ancient nation.

-Guys at Logos often put their arms around each other, hug each other, punch each other, etc. Girls are much less hands-on with each other.

-I never go into the kitchen at night without turning on the light first. It's just to prevent catching any rats off-guard...I want them to be on their way out when I go in. (We have far fewer than last year, but a few times I've seen one about 8 inches long.)

-I'm doing better this year with the heat. Last year, I slept with a fan on low and I only used a bedsheet during cold season. This year, I've consistently needed a sheet at night.

-"Knee squeeze!" Every day, Sarah drives me to school on our moto. The gate has 2 openings - one for cars and one for pedestrians/bikes/motos. We ddrive through the small one, and I have to squeeze my knees together to avoid scraping them.

-All the classrooms have ornate living room-style curtains because the sunshine reflects too much on the boards otherwise. Blinds are quite expensive here, but these curtains were reasonable. However, the science classroom has Venetian blinds, for some reason. The first time the science teacher closed them, students was shocked and amazed - they'd never seen them before.

-We have water coolers in the hallways, since you can't drink tap water here. Most actually cool the water, but the one outside my classroom doesn't work, and it's in the sun all day. Kids ask me how I can drink water well over 100 degrees, but the truth is, I don't have time between classes to go to one of the cold ones. I always tell them, "It's wet, so why should it matter?"

Wow. That's about all I could say, wow.

What could be better than a birthday party where dear friends read me beloved children's books? Naturally, ice cream was involved as well.

I need to do better at documenting Cambodian modes of transportation. This pickup has about 25 guys on their way to work.

Best T-shirt I've seen in forever. "NO! I don't need a tuk tuk!" It's especially fitting for Erin, who takes 90-minute walks across town most weekends.

"STILL NO!"

French students gathered earlier today at a cafe for yummy pastries and some rousing games like Telephone and I Spy.

I was so proud of them for how much they figured out from the French newspapers.

Bon travail, mes eleves!