“Kids nowadays have it so easy!” How many times have we heard that expression? I, for one, don’t think the Plas Prai dorm students have it nearly as easy as I did at their age. They do many chores, have few possessions and little spending money, live far from home, and struggle to keep up in mediocre high school classes after attending low-performing middle schools. Many of them only got electricity in their homes in the last five or ten years, and it’s still just a couple light bulbs and an outlet to charge phones. Their families have no running water, minimal furniture, a few changes of clothes, and a diet consisting mostly of home-grown rice and hot chilis. But last week I heard from a student’s mom who put the students’ hardship in perspective.
We took a team from Davisville Church (Muggs, Holly, and Michelle) to visit Muggs and Holly’s sponsored student’s family. Mony, a Plas Prai student who just started grade 12, is the youngest of three sons. We met his parents, his maternal grandma, and his mom’s older sister, as well as a crowd of friendly neighbors. We also went past the homes of at least six other awesome Plas Prai students or graduates from his village - they've sent us quite a crop, including one current dorm staff and one current World Team intern!
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| L to R: Mony, a dorm staff member, and the 3 World Team interns in the back of the truck, ready to visit Mony’s family. Visakha (center) is from the same village. |
A warm, kind hostess, Mony’s mom told us a bit of her story.
“When I was three, my father died under the brutal Khmer Rouge regime of the late 1970’s [along with about ¼ of the Cambodian population]. I was the youngest of eight children, and they had everyone on near-starvation rations, so I didn’t really start eating solid food until I was five. The Khmer Rouge assigned everyone forced labor, even children. Starting at age three, I was sent daily to pick beans and sort rice with other children. At night, I came home to my malnourished mother and she breast-fed me and gave me whatever scraps of rice she’d been able to scavenge.
"When the Khmer Rouge regime was defeated in 1979, we kids didn’t have to work anymore, and our families wanted us to be educated. But all the teachers had been executed and we didn’t have a school building. So anyone in the village who had studied a little bit came and taught the kids under a big tree. At night, they told us to go home and teach what we had learned to our older siblings and parents, most of whom had had minimal or no formal education. Eventually a teacher came to our village, and I finished grade four at age 16. Back then, a grade 4 education was enough to go work in the nearest town, but my teacher encouraged me to ask my mom if I could continue studying. That meant moving to the next province, since our province didn’t have any middle schools.
"My mom agreed, and she took me on foot on a three-day journey to Steung Treng province, sleeping on the road both nights. I received a government scholarship with room and board to study through grade seven in their province capital, since there were no middle schools in our province. I was the only one in our village to study past grade four. After that, I returned to our village and became a teacher for five years. I felt so privileged to have this education, and I was glad to pass on what I’d learned to my neighbors. Khmer Rouge guerrillas were still hiding out in our area, and they came and burned down a bunch of homes in our village. Our community was terrified and fled to another area for about six months. When we came back, we helped each other rebuild, just like always.
"When I was twenty-five, my parents arranged a marriage between me and a man from our village. He didn’t have as much education but he was a hard worker. We had three sons together, and when the youngest (Mony) was one year old, my husband was run over by an oxcart that crushed his leg, back, and head. There were no motor vehicles back then, and the mud on the road was up to my thighs that time of year, but I pushed him in a cart to the nearest town with a medical clinic. It was terrifying and exhausting! Eventually we got him to Phnom Penh for further recovery. He survived, but his personality changed. He became as simple as a young child, short-tempered, and prone to violence. He used to wander off at night. The kids were afraid of him. To this day, nearly twenty years later, we have to take him to Steung Treng province [now about a 2-hour drive] every month for medications so that he’ll stay calm and close to home. He helps herd the cows [normally a child’s job] but he can’t do much to help with the rice and cassava crops. My 95-year-old mom also lives with me, and she still sweeps the yard every morning.
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| Muggs and Holly meeting Mony’s family |
"It hasn’t been easy farming alone and caring for my whole family, but I am willing to sacrifice anything to see my sons be educated. Even though I could really use their help on the farm, I’m happy that they can study further than I did. Their lives are so much easier than mine. One son is in Bangkok, working as a translator now that he has finished studying. The next is six hours from here in Kampong Speu province with a university scholarship. Now Mony is in his last year of high school. I want to give him the freedom to continue studying too.”
Mony once told me he feels a great burden to return to the farm and help his mom in his brothers’ absence. We’ll see if he does so next year, or if he is able to embrace other opportunities that might open up, such as university. All Plas Prai students are eligible for a scholarship to a six-month “Discipleship Training Program” through YWAM, and Mony is serious about his faith. He could also apply for several university scholarships. So he’ll have to weigh his hunger for knowledge against the urgency of relieving his mom’s load on the farm. But I was so moved by his mom's commitment to education and her village's spirit of helping each other. The Khmer Rouge worked systematically to destroy trust and sow suspicion among neighbors and even family members. I'm so encouraged at the way this village overcame the government's poison with their spirit of perseverance, cooperation, and investing in the next generation.
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| Michelle took this photo while Mony’s mom was telling us her story |
A few days later, I translated a conversation between Michelle (a member of the short-term team) and Plas Prai students. She described her kids' middle and high school schedule, and one student asked about the US high school drop-out rate. It's 5%. By contrast, Cambodia had a 20.2% high school completion rate in 2016-2017, and I guarantee that rate is lower in our students' home villages, all far from high schools. The students got quiet, and I thought they might feel discouraged or ashamed that Cambodia was so far behind the US. So I told them, "When Mony's mom was your age, there were no middle or high schools in this province. And when Cambodia gained independence from France back in 1954, there was only one high school in the whole country. Think how far you guys have come! Now, there's at least one high school in each of Preah Vihear's eight districts, and even more middle schools. Just imagine, maybe you're the only child in your family to graduate high school, but ALL of your children might have the chance to do so. You can use your education to help the next generation."
Plas Prai students still have it far from easy, especially compared to my idyllic childhood and access to excellent schools. But it's great to celebrate the progress that's been made, and to point it out to the Cambodian youth who are poised to make history. Though Mony's mom and grandma are Buddhist, I believe they have been vehicles of God's blessing to their hurting community. If this generation of youth emulates their service, courage, and perseverance, how different could life be for future generations! May Mony and his peers at the dorm follow in their footsteps to multiply hope and kindness across the nation.
