The semester ended today (Friday the 18th), meaning that exams were given this week (in high school only – middle school still had normal classes, in theory) and report cards were handed out this afternoon.Today was also our last day in our current location, so we recruited all middle and high school students to help the teachers label the desks, pack the books, take down the posters, and load the trucks.Tomorrow, we’ll begin unpacking in our gorgeous new facilities on the outskirts of town. Students and teachers worked HARD today and got a lot done! Many of them have never really done chores, so they have limited experience with this kind of manual labor. It's child labor, they cried! It's character building, I retorted.
It’s been neat to get a glimpse of the building process, albeit only toward the end of it.For example, in Cambodia, the construction crews are generally from the provinces (AKA rural areas).They move around for different jobs, bringing their families, and sleep at the construction site.So when I went out to visit the school about six weeks ago, I found the ground level full of hammocks, cooking areas, small children, and roosters.Another interesting tidbit is that we got to pick our paint colors for our new rooms!I picked a sage green for two walls and cream for another two walls, but a few teachers went bolder, with salmon or bright red on some walls.Because paint jobs don’t last very long here, it’s not a big deal to have a color not every teacher would love: they’ll be painted over in a year or two, anyway.
Many students’ first official tour of the school came last weekend, at the middle and high school Christmas concert.It was Logos’ first-ever band concert (for middle school only), and it was a labor of love to acquire instruments for the band!You can buy guitars and local traditional instruments here, but I guess not things like flutes and trumpets and keyboards.So they arrived very piecemeal, from donors overseas or in suitcases.I was quite impressed by their sound!It was a step above my memory of middle school band concerts, partly because of strategic placement of several musically gifted students.The choir concert also sounded lovely.Everyone wore black clothes, which is strongly associated with mourning here, so the girls also wore the beautiful scarves available at markets here.It looked so nice together.
I’m quite excited for my new classroom! It’s considerably larger, and I'll actually have options in arranging the seats. (Right now, the rows are packed in, and students in the fifth row always complain they can't see to the front in my long, narrow room. There, I can have twice as many front-row seats, since that's where many students prefer to sit! I never had this problem in the US.) All that I’m dreading is the distance (about a 10-minute car or moto ride, or 15 minutes by tuk-tuk).It’s been so great to dash over to school on foot to grade on the weekends, or swim in the pool, or use their Internet.Now I’ll need to be more organized, especially since Sarah and I are hoping to share a moto.Many Logos families are moving out to that area: housing is cheap, and almost all expats in Cambodia rent properties, so it’s not hard to move.Logos will really shape the neighborhood, where no homes even existed a few years ago, and many new ones are still being built.But it’s pretty isolated from markets, farther from downtown, etc. I’m also really attached to Sovannary and a few of the neighbor girls.So I’d consider moving after next summer, but it’d be so nice to stay here in Toul Kork.
The Logos staff Christmas party was last night, and I did my part as a verified Sunshine Committee (aka Party Planning) member by... 1. Arriving early to help decorate the pillars with festive ribbons 2. Providing many people's first-ever taste of buckeyes (balls of peanut butter and powdered sugar dipped in melted chocolate chips) - who knew they were such a regional dish? By the way, I used some precious US chocolate chips, since only one grocery store here carries any. Since even those wouldn't melt properly on my overactive stovetop, it was a labor of love by Sarah and me. 3. Playing the Yankee gift swap game, using the gift Sarah wrapped: a free Rudy DVD that we found in our apartment when moving in. It had the dubious distinction of being the last of 26 gifts to be chosen from the pile. At least it went to Shirley, another Philly native, and not one of the guards or cleaners who speak next to no English and have never seen a football game.
By the way, the big joke in planning the potluck dinner was how many fried bananas there would be. Last year, apparently all 8 or so of the guards decided that fried bananas from street vendors (delicious and cheap) would make an excellent addition to the feast. This year, we instituted a signup sheet for various categories, in part to impede a similar glut of fried fruit. It seems fried bananas here are Cambodia's answer to Doritos.
Click here to see photos of our rooftop festivities at the principal's house.
...was this morning! I know for a fact, because I experienced it. Today's low was a paltry 74, the lowest so far in October/November. When I walked to school at 7 AM, I did not sweat. I had no desire to jump in the pool. In fact, in my T-shirt and capris, I almost shivered during one particularly fierce blast of wind. It was dry. It was cool. It was refreshing. It was real. And it might even happen again in the next few months.
It was so cool, I didn't even want to turn on the air con ("air conditioning" in Asian English) in my classroom. Unfortunately, while half my students huddled in thin cotton zip-up sweatshirts, the other half insisted air con was still necessary - a point not entirely irrational. Because cool season or no, the high today was 87. (We've had one day below 86 since October 1.)
I had nearly given up on cool season as a myth with which to lure unsuspecting foreigners. Supposedly, it started a month ago and will continue through February or so. Khmer people even claim that it's noticeably less sweltering than a few months ago, though they concede it's been extra-humid. But all this week, as usual, my subdued evenings of reading and grading have left me uncomfortably sticky. (Outside was a bit cooler, but I was too far from the window.) I keep trying in vain to sleep without my fan. That's why the cool season came as such a delicious gift.
As for winter? That, for me, starts next June, when I arrive back in Doylestown for two months. Bring on the blankets, the cardigans, and the wool socks! I'll be ready for those unseasonable blizzards...or just for Pennsylvania's typical temperature mood swings.
I'm being lazy and just linking to the Facebook album. (You can view it even without a Facebook account.) There, you can read the story of a mouse, a small river of dirty laundry water, a disapproving landlady, and the thumbprint cookies by which we sought forgiveness. (Sorry for the delay...I tried to post this a while ago, but Facebook wouldn't display the link that works for people without accounts.)
Can you identify the golden-brown object in the center of this photograph? Read on for the answer.
Because Logos provided us with many dishes and utensils before we moved in, it took us a while to notice it on the kitchen counter. By the time I arrived on July 25, Sarah had been there for several days to get set up, and both of us never thought about it. One day, though, Sarah approached me.
"So I was looking at our neighbors' balcony," she commented, "and they have a tiny wooden house on it."
"Oh, really?"
"It looks kind of like our little house, but it has incense in it. Do you think it could be...?"
Oh, dear, I think she's right. I had just noticed it for the first time that week, because Sarah had started to leave her keys on top of it. Brilliant!, I thought, you'd never lose them that way. I hadn't thought about its intended purpose, though, except maybe as a souvenir. Wow, I felt slow.
"I can't believe I've been leaving my keys on the spirit house!" Sarah groaned. "What must the neighbors have thought, if they noticed it through the glass door? What should we do with it?"
We knew that most Buddhist families had some kind of spirit house inside to honor their ancestors, similar to the shrines we'd seen outside, but we'd never seen a spirit house. We concluded that since Logos wouldn't have bought it for us, it must have been a housewarming gift from our landlords. One which we had obviously failed to properly respect. But did it deserve our respect? Or is it creepy, even dangerous, to have a home for whatever spirits drop by, sitting right on your kitchen counter?
We concluded that it was time to get rid of it. But how? A spirit house isn't something you just regift. No, throwing it out was the best option. We prayed nobody would find it in the trash and feel offended. Picking it up, we noticed a large, disgusting bug clinging to it. "Hey, doesn't Buddhism teach that evil people reincarnate as bugs?" We decided that, if Buddhism is true, we must have Hitler's spirit clinging to that cute little house. No, thank you!
Tossing it in the trash, we heard the house crunch as we closed the lid. Good riddance!
This is how much Logos loves us: they gave us a three-day all-expense-paid retreat at the lovely town of Koh Kong!This is what a bad blogger I am: it was nearly a month ago.But better late than never, right?It was my first trip outside Phnom Penh since I arrived three months ago, and a meaningful time for me in many ways.
Bathing suits are not big here: you wear your clothes in, or if you're little, you skinny-dip like the boy in the center. We didn't know this family, but they were tickled to be photographed.
One thing that it showed me is that the Logos administration is flexible.At first, they envisioned the retreat as a seminar for expatriate (foreign) teachers on handling stress.But some of the teachers approached them about including the Khmer (Cambodian) teachers and assistants as well.The administration extended the invitation to them, even though it meant exceeding their budget, and I was so glad.The time I spent with Khmer staff on the retreat left some of my most significant memories.
Chenda and Srey Roth were in my small group. They were so much fun at the waterfall, too!
We all crammed into three vans on a blazingly hot Wednesday afternoon.When we arrived, though, it was blessedly cool and damp – typical for this town on the Thai border.The chilly weather all three days was a welcome respite from the constant sweat of Phnom Penh, although by “chilly” I mean “I wished I had brought jeans.”It rained a good bit: enough to turn the dirt roads into mush, but not enough to stop us from hiking to a “waterfall” (aka stream).The hotel provided the only hot showers I’ve had since July, which are also the only ones I’ve wanted.They say PP will cool off soon – we’ll see.
The waterfall wasn't that impressive, but I loved the scenery around it!
The seminars included beautiful times of prayer and worship, talks by various staff, small-group discussions, and everyone performing skits on methods of stress relief.The latter were hilarious and a good exercise in cross-cultural communication.Most of the Khmer had never been in any kind of skit before, and were understandably scared about them.So when the first group (topic: saying “no” to commitments) talked about relieving stress by refusing to do the skit, it was perfect!My group had to discuss a long time to come to a consensus about our skit.Brainstorming and ruling out ideas are not emphasized in Khmer culture, so our Khmer members kind of felt stuck doing whatever the other American and I suggested, despite our urgings to the contrary.Other highlights included “Monsieur Grenouille” (Mr. Frog), explaining the French art of massage, and a big Italian guy role-playing as an elderly Khmer woman.
Gotta love the safety standards: a young boy unplugs a drain 3 stories above the pool
It was fun to get a glimpse of life in this sleepy town, and to hear about the provinces from Khmer staff. (Hardly any Cambodian today has always lived in Phnom Penh, given its recent history. And even those who have usually still have relatives in the provinces.) Passing hut after thatch-roofed hut on the trip, with vast open spaces in between, made me wonder if I'd ever live in the provinces, and how I'd like it. Honestly, I'm guessing that I will at some point - albeit maybe not in one of those little huts. All I know is that when I returned to Phnom Penh, I was glad to be back. It may be hot and crowded, but it's familiar, and it felt like I was coming home.
The view from the 4-hour car ride: lush scenery = my favorite stress relief
I have an urgent request for your help. This is important. It involves chocolate for me. (And I can give you chocolate when I get back to the US sometime, if you want.)
Logos is moving to a new building in the spring. We're leaving our current location for a new school that will be starting: a Christian school for middle-class Khmer students. They're looking for a name (in English) for the school. The administrator is offering "a chocolate prize" to those with good suggestions.
So, in case you got lost along the way, let me summarize. If you help me think of a good name... 1. You could have a Cambodian school with the name of your choosing. 2. I could have chocolate.
I hail from America but I've spent a lot of my adult life in Cambodia. I enjoy words, kids, and dark chocolate. I'm learning day by day to follow Jesus and love Him most.
