Seven things I love about my life in Preah Vihear

I’m winding down my two months in Preah Vihear town, the capital of a rural province with the same name. I came for two purposes: language immersion and helping my teammates and their Cambodian partners. My teammates run a dorm for low-income high school girls from remote villages, and I've been staying with some of their ministry partners (a family of 4 and a single), national missionaries with YWAM who live adjacent to the dorm. It's by far my longest exposure to a Cambodian home or to rural Cambodia. I have so much affection for this community, and I've learned a ton here. Here are some highlights.

Vibrant Christians.

This is my first time being around Cambodians who live off of faith-based support rather than a steady salary. It's pretty cool to see them trusting God and turning down more lucrative, secure job opportunities so they have the freedom to serve God and others full-time. I took Silat to meet my former colleague and her mom, and within five minutes Silat was asking the mom if she knew about Jesus. I've gotten to hear her and my other housemates (Sokhoeurn and Saroth) share the Gospel, pray, discuss the Bible, and worship. They inspire me! 

Two girls about to be baptized

Many of the girls at the Plas Prai dorm help teach Sunday School to nearby village kids. Ten of them requested children's Bibles last month so they can teach kids in their home villages during their school holidays. It's a joy to see the passion of these young believers. I also had the privilege of seeing a baptism. That same week, I met the father of another dorm student, and the mom of an alumna, both of whom were deciding to trust Christ after a long period of investigation. It's exciting to see God changing people's lives! 

Sunday School

While visiting a church elder and his wife, Rotana and Kamsia, I got to hear Rotana share his testimony of coming to Christ. Rotana was a wild child from a marginalized ethnic minority who dropped out after first grade. Starting in adolescence, he spent all his time drinking, smoking, and chasing women, feeling he had no value or purpose in life besides his musical talent. He liked Kamsia for a long time but she paid him no heed - she knew his character, since they became step-siblings as teens. But she had few options as a poor girl in a small village, and at 23 she was practically an old maid, so she finally agreed to marry him. Shortly afterward, he fell out of a palm tree while drunk, and broke his back. A Peruvian missionary paid his medical expenses and began to teach them both about the Bible and how to read. Ten years later, Rotana is substance-free and a man of integrity, a gifted worship leader/storyteller/preacher with a deep knowledge of the Bible, and the joy of Kamsia's life. Their faith has persevered through various financial and personal difficulties, and they volunteer extensively in their church and community.

Rotana performing for us after lunch at his house

"Plas Prai," the name of the girls' dorm, means "transform." In both the dorm and Preah Vihear as a whole, there's a lot of transformation going on. The Christian community here isn't perfect, but growth is happening. My front-row seat to this growth is what I've loved the most here!

Being a “ming.”

That means “aunt” in Khmer and it’s a common title. It’s no secret that I love kids. So it’s been great being in the same building as two of them (Sokhoeurn and Saroth's kids Ponleu – 4, and Holy – 2) and next door to another two (Sitan and Sinan's kids Sasada – 3, and Visal – 1). They all know a little bit of English from their parents and YouTube (there aren't many kids' videos in Khmer), so sometimes I speak to them in English to help them learn more.

Holy and Sasada warmed up to me quickly; Ponleu and Visal took a bit longer. But a couple weeks in, Ponleu decided that despite my limited language, I was a rational adult who might be able to help him with things like getting a snack. Now we have a great time together. Lately, all 3 older kids love pretending with me that we're cats, giving each other fish and milk. 

Ponleu is a very somber child. 

I hadn’t spent much time with young Khmer kids previously, and living here has been a great cultural learning experience. Khmer parents tend to be more permissive and hands-on with very young kids (co-sleeping, hand-feeding, showering them frequently, etc.) and then get stricter and less affectionate as the kids approach school age. There's also a bigger role for other relatives besides parents, which in this case means the unofficial "mings" (Silat and the dorm girls and me), and other family friends. Although that's not my native culture, it's obvious that my housemates are fantastic parents dedicated to helping their kids learn and grow.

Everyone wants to cuddle Holy... good thing she's an extrovert! 

An expert on Cambodian education. 

My tutor is a teacher trainer with Preah Vihear province's Ministry of Education, and used to teach middle school French. His name is Halo (insert angel pun here) and he's a gold mine of information! I’ve asked him a ton of questions about Cambodia’s education system, and he’s volunteered details about curricula and policies that I wouldn't have known to ask about. I have a feeling my teammates and I will be back to interview him at some point.

Shared meals.

Mealtime is community time here. I've heard that one of the saddest things Cambodians can imagine is someone standing alone in the kitchen eating... we sit down together daily for lunch and dinner, often with visitors. We've talked about a million different topics - some silly, some serious, some way over my head. It's been a fantastic way to bond.

We've also taught each other about foods. With no fridge and no supermarket, almost everything they make is from scratch. I've tried probably new 20 fruits and vegetables, including fresh-picked lotus roots from a friend's rice paddies. Thankfully I'm not picky, so I think most of them taste good. Being here has cemented my knowledge of certain Khmer dishes that were vaguely familiar before, and also taught me how to set out and consume a meal Cambodia-style. They sit on the floor with a mortar and pestle almost daily to grind herbs and chili peppers. Only lazy people leave soup in the pot or stir-fry in the wok... it needs a serving bowl or tray. And if they serve two dishes, you don't put both at once into your rice bowl, even if they're on different sides of the bowl. 

Silat preparing moringa, a local superfood new to me 

One day, I told the dorm mom, Sinan, "You made lunch; let me wash the dishes." She replied, "Oh, it's OK - you can kill the chickens this afternoon." She was joking, but she and Sokhoeurn really did kill and pluck two of the many free-range chickens; the kids watched the latter with excitement and confusion. We feasted that night - Cambodians don't often eat that much meat in one go, but they sure do savor it when they can. 

Ponleu ran around with a chicken head, chewing on it
and pretending it was talking.

My housemates have tried and liked many Western foods before, but they asked me to show them how to make pizza and tacos, so I learned along with them how to make tomato sauce and tortillas from scratch. We found out that you can make stovetop pizza... they don't have an oven. (Or cheese. And they asked if they could sub ketchup for the tomato sauce. So pizza might be tough for them.) In return, they showed me how to mince meat by hand (no ground meat for sale here) as well as tasty dishes like ginger chicken stir-fry and coconut curry. 

Tacos!

Frequent dance parties. 

A late afternoon with cranky toddlers? Someone’s going-away party? Saturday evening youth group? Just finished a baptism? They're all great times for a dance party. It usually includes both chicken dances – the classic American one and the trendy new Khmer one called “Farm Chicken” (see video). Other favorites are the Zumba songs we use during dance aerobics with the dorm girls, Khmer traditional dances, J.Lo’s “On The Floor,” and the Baby Shark Song (Holy loves it). I'm not always crazy about dancing, but my favorites are those with scripted moves (ex. square dancing) and those where you can just be silly. These dance parties are a great mix of both. 

Being out of the city. 

The view from Preah Vihear temple, along the Thai border 

Preah Vihear town itself is about two blocks wide and a mile long. The only time I’ve seen traffic backed up is during a political march, right before last Sunday’s election. I’m a 10-minute jog from the river and a 30-minute drive from a scenic waterfall.

Rice fields on the edge of town

In Phnom Penh, people sometimes refer to spending time “in the province” as if it’s all the same, but nobody here does that, and now I can see why. There’s a big difference between a province capital – even a small one like PV – and the rest of the province: villages with just a dozen-odd farming families each and no market. I went with Silat and two of the dorm girls to visit their families in far-away villages. I also spent a few nights in another village near the Lao border, where many people don’t speak Khmer (only Lao) because the road there from Cambodia was practically impassable until a few years ago. It’s neat to glimpse village life. 

Our hosts in Kampong Sralau village, near Laos

Fun projects.

I wasn’t sure what I’d be working on here, but it was clear that there were plenty of opportunities to get involved. I’ve really enjoyed the variety: interpreting for visitors from Australia, the US, Canada, and Burma; teaching English to the staff and some neighborhood kids; translating letters and scrapbook notes into English for the dorm girls; and helping decorate said scrapbooks.

The girls made scrapbooks to thank the dorm founder and their dorm mom 

Two events absorbed most of my attention the last couple weeks. First, I spoke to the youth group about our identity in Christ. I had an audio file with Max Lucado’s book “You Are Special” narrated in Khmer, so I asked some volunteers to create a skit based on it. That was an exciting way to relinquish control! It ended up much longer than I expected, and in the practice that afternoon, they were goofing around and kind of obscured the point. (The sad character couldn’t stop giggling.) But in the evening with an audience, they were fantastic. Since I really wanted my talk to be clear, I wrote it out and had my tutor correct it beforehand, and he even made me correct my spelling... tedious but good practice. I had volunteers read out Bible verses to explain why in Christ, we are accepted, secure, and significant (inspired by the image below).

Then last Friday, I led a seminar for the dorm girls on nutrition. They used to get an allowance that they used for both food and other expenses… but some of them had started using just 12 cents per meal and were basically only eating rice with chili and salt. So it was good to review with them why they need the fruits, vegetables, and protein sources that grow so abundantly (and cheaply, especially vegetables) in Cambodia. Researching for the seminar helped me learn about locally available sources of various vitamins and minerals. One immediate application came when my friend Silat asked me about dietary recommendations for her relatives with high blood pressure. We looked online together and translated some tips into Khmer, which she printed and took home with her last weekend. 

The girls broke into small groups to plan healthy meals.

People who want me on their sports team.

Soccer with the Christians of Preah Vihear is a very inclusive, non-competitive experience. I reluctantly joined my first soccer game since fourth grade, but found myself in a safe place to make frequent mistakes. Players range from age 10 to 35, mostly teens with less than two years' experience. They switch up the teams every week, and all the late people randomly join a side until there are 40+ players crowding the field. Apparently someone keeps score, but it's not emphasized. They all play in flip-flops or barefoot. When I wore my running shoes, they chided me that I might hurt someone's feet, and they were right. 

There’s a lot of shrieking, laughter, and broken rules. One player likes to swat the ball. One goalie likes playing near the center line. One 3-year-old fan likes wandering onto the field with an extra ball, which sometimes gets mistaken for the game ball. Many players enjoy a good mid-game chat, and most lack any ball control or strategy. (I fit right in there!) But out of the two games I attended, out of the 40-odd players, only one player standing near her goal kicked the ball far in the exact opposite direction.

That person was me.

In my defense, I was just rejoining the game after having been plowed down from behind and needing a short break. As I approached the other players, suddenly the ball shot toward me, so I reverted to my default: try to kick it straight ahead. I was next to Sina, the team captain who had chosen me, and she gave me a look. “Chelsea! What team are you on?!” We doubled over laughing, joining the ranks of preoccupied players ignoring the ball.

A few days later, at dinner with Sina, we were talking about soccer with a few others. She said I was good at it, and my explosive laughter made me spit a grain of rice onto her cheek. (Gross, sorry.) “Well,” she modified, “you’re good at playing – you’re just not very good at playing for your own team.” She and others have continued to invite me, and while I’ve declined out of concern for everyone's feet, I still feel the love.