Humans of Preah Vihear 1

In this blog post, I want to introduce you to three Bible school students whom I got to visit last weekend: Map, Ngoeurt, and Chantha. My World Team colleague Joel and I drove out to their homes last week on the western edge of Preah Vihear province, Kulen district, to follow up with them and encourage them. We're their mentors throughout Bible school, trying to meet them once monthly in-person and once monthly on Facebook Messenger. (Joel is mentoring Map and Ngoeurt; I'm mentoring Chantha.) I also listened recently to Map and Ngoeurt's testimonies of coming to Christ, which they recorded during last month along with most of the Bible school students and instructors. 

Map 

"I want to tell you about my life before I believed in Jesus. I used to be very stubborn. I’d stay out drinking until late at night, and when I came home, I’d curse and start arguments with my wife, kids, and other family members. My wife took me to see a fortune teller who predicted that she and I would get a divorce. I still loved my wife, and hearing that I was destined for divorce made me afraid, especially because I have children.

"My mother-in-law believed in Jesus and I saw God do a miracle in her life. She used to be sick all the time. The witch doctor told her she was demon-possessed and needed to tear out a pillar in her house where the demon lived. She tore out the pillar, and he said, “Now put in a new pillar or else a disaster will happen to your family.” But by that point, she had believed in Jesus and been healed from her bondage to spirits and witchcraft. Her physical health was restored. Seeing these miracles, I realized that ever since she believed, my mother-in-law has really had freedom from demonic bondage.

"I let my wife believe in Jesus before I did, but I gave her a hard time about it. “Are you following that Jesus guy? You’re gonna believe in the foreigners’ god?” But my wife replied, “This god isn’t just for foreigners. My mom told me to believe in Jesus because he created the heavens and the earth. He has victory over evil spirits, and He doesn’t want us two and our family to split apart, but to love each other.” I believed her, so I joined her to worship with other believers. Once I became a Christian through her and had freedom, I buried my sin with God. I was free to serve God and I had hope of rising from the dead with Him. I really believed that He would break the chains that evil spirits had used to enslave me.

"I have freedom in God. Christ died for my sin and washed me as clean as He is so I can walk in the way of righteousness. My body is well and I have victory in Jesus. My relationships with my wife and family and neighbors aren’t like before, and I've seen other miracles. Now I’m leading a house church in Sbal village. Back while I was still a terrible person, God chose me." 

Map welcomed us at his in-laws' house, which is still missing a center pillar. Joel told him, "It's just as well, that pillar would have been in the way when you host the church here every week." You can see one of the other center pillars between two of the fence posts. 

Map joined us to visit Ngoeurt and Chantha. On the way back to his house, he played a recording of his wife singing a familiar Christian hymn about Jesus at Calvary, but with a new melody that she made up. "I love listening to her sing to our family in the evenings," he said. 

As we listened, I took this video of the country roads we were driving down. Enjoy this peek of authentic rural sights and sounds!

Ngoeurt

"Hi, I’m Snguon Ngoeurt. I’m 32 years old and I have a wife and two daughters. When I first believed in Jesus, a lot of people criticized me because I was the very first believer in our community. They looked down on me and persecuted me a lot, and sometimes I felt weak and tired and discouraged. But thank God that he still loved me and encouraged me. 

"One month later, I went on a trip to study the Bible and share the Gospel with others. My relatives were criticizing me to my wife: “How will you provide for your kids if your husband is busy with this stuff?” they asked. They really made her feel bad, and said that we'd lost our traditional religion. God reminded me, “We’re believing in Jesus for salvation, not for other gain. We just want the life that God promised us.” I told my wife that no matter how much wealth we have on earth, it’s worthless if we don’t believe in God. She started to talk more with me about Christ and she didn’t turn away to the right or left.

"Soon after that, my mother-in-law was still harassing me and saying, “You give stuff away, but I don’t see people giving things back to you.” I used to have everything I needed – rice, soup, food – and I gave it away to help people in need around me, even though they never gave anything back to me. So I said, “God told us to do good deeds and forgive our enemies.” Many people in our village, like the district chief, were talking about me being a Christian. Thank God that I really trusted Him and persevered. God helped me to be strong.

"Another time, I got a serious cut on my foot and two toes were severed. The doctor wanted to amputate, but I said, “Please don’t amputate them. Sew them back on. I’m trusting God to keep them on.” The doctor was skeptical, but he sewed them back on and my foot was fine. The toes stayed attached. When I cut my foot, people criticized me more than ever and I felt down. I thought, “Why does life have to go up and down like this?” But God touched my heart through his word. I kept sharing the Gospel and many people in my family believed.

"Then my wife had another problem. She and I were in the rice field, far away from our village, and neither of us knew anything was wrong. We ate dinner and went to sleep out in the field. Then her body suddenly stiffened and her jaw locked tightly closed. I shook her and she didn’t wake up. I tried to open her mouth but I couldn’t. I panicked and started crying. Then I remembered the God of salvation. I prayed and prayed, three times. She woke up and opened her mouth, asking, “What happened to me?” I was so relieved. Thank God. If not for Him, she might not be here now.

"From then on, I was stronger and persevered in my faith. People stopped harassing me and looking down on me. I was so convinced that “Jesus is God and He saved me from my sin and all these problems in my life.” I kept sharing the Gospel and saw many more relatives and neighbors believe. There were 100 people at one point but now there are fewer… some of them just wanted healing and didn’t really care about Jesus. Thank God that my wife and I really trust him now and our community no longer mocks our faith." 

Ngoeurt (left) and his daughters (as well as his wife and parents) welcomed Joel (center) and Map (right) last Sunday. Ngoeurt's wife, not pictured, is also a strong believer who would like to attend our Bible school in the next round.

Chantha

Chantha and I only overlapped for one day of Bible school, so I didn't get to know her as well as the others who spent four days studying the Gospels with me. (That's also why she wasn't there to make a testimony video.) But I heard great things about her, and I can see why. When she sat down to look through her homework assignments with her previous mentor Saroth and me, she shone. (Saroth is busy raising three young kids and helping with the Plas Prai dorm, and she can't make it out to Chantha's village, so I'm taking over Chantha's mentoring for the second half of Chantha's two-year commitment.) Chantha was supposed to memorize eight of ten Bible verses, but she'd memorized all ten so fluently Saroth and I could barely keep up reading them. She was supposed to keep a prayer list and pray through it daily, missing no more than 20%. 

"Wow, it looks like you didn't miss any days at all!" Saroth praised her. 

"Yeah, but I wish I'd prayed longer. It was only about fifteen minutes some days." 

"Hold on. You prayed at least fifteen minutes every day the past three months? That's really great!" 

Chantha just blushed.

Chantha works a few days a month for World Vision's relief efforts. I think she also helps on her family's farm, but I didn't quite understand her answer... I'm still adjusting to conversations with people here. At thirty-one, she might be the oldest single I've met here, so it's neat that we have that in common. I didn't get to see her home when Joel and I visited, but she told me she lives with a teenage sibling, while many other siblings and her mom live in the same village. She and Ngoeurt are neighbors, so she just came over to his house to meet with me while Joel talked with Ngoeurt. Ngoeurt's mom and Chantha's sister-in-law, fellow believers, joined our conversation. Besides this sister-in-law, Chantha has two siblings who are spiritually open but no other Christian family members.

Chantha told me she's still going out sometimes to another village where she shares the Gospel, but it's been challenging with her ministry partner away all last month. After worshiping at Ngoeurt's house Sunday mornings, she drives about an hour each way on her moto to encourage several elderly believers who are shut-in and ill. 

"Is that safe?" I asked her. Joel and I had just been discussing how I shouldn't go too far out of town alone in case my moto broke down. These roads are pretty empty and you're at the mercy of whoever comes by first. 

"Yeah, I'm not worried about it." The girl's got gumption!

L to R: Chantha, Ngoeurt's mom, Chantha's older sister-in-law

School of Applied Ministry

Made it in the nick of time! I moved to Preah Vihear (the capital of a rural province in northern Cambodia) on Saturday, January 15, and Bible school started two days later. If I'd had to quarantine on arrival, I would have missed most or all of it. These meetings Monday-Friday made up module #4 of 8 in a two-year period. I'd never been around for it before, so I was looking forward to joining this cohort's fifteen students. 

Each cohort member is from somewhere in Preah Vihear province and is actively involved in ministry. That could mean evangelism, discipleship, and/or leading a house church. They don't get a salary for that work, so most are also farmers. The school's one-week modules are timed to coincide with the agricultural seasons. Some students live nearby, but most travel in for the week and stay in the wooden house upstairs above our open-air training area (the same house I stayed in for ten weeks in 2018).

My goal? Not to help - just to participate alongside the students. Eventually I'll use my teaching experience to support the instructors, who are mostly Cambodian, but for now I wanted to stay in the learner's seat. It was a great way to re-immerse my brain in the Khmer language, get to know cohort members, and deepen my understanding of the Bible. It also familiarized me with the school's style.

So what is the Preah Vihear School of Applied Ministry (PVSAM) about? In short, the Bible. But the goal isn't just for participants to understand the Bible better, but to use it in their communities. As you might guess from the name "School of Applied Ministry," the PVSAM aims to be transferable and reproducible, offering tools that students can use in their everyday lives as Christian lay leaders. Its motto is "Equipping, Practicing, Sending." We want to help them make disciples, who will in turn make disciples, who will... well, you get the idea.

Its core is a broad overview, illustrated in the timeline below, showing that "the Bible is one unified story that points to Jesus." (The timeline is by my teammates and their daughter, not by the Bible Project, but we did watch several Bible Project videos in Khmer throughout the week.) This module, #4 of 8, focused on the four Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John), so it was all about Jesus.

Each picture on the timeline has a title and several sub-points that students learn to say while doing an action. Part of each module's exam is to say and act out each picture they've learned so far. My good friend Sina made a brief video (below) demonstrating what students would need to know for the Module 4 exam. You'll see general points in the first minute, and then the two new pictures and their sub-points that were covered this module, representing "Jesus" and "Savior." 

In between the eight modules, students' homework includes reading or listening to each book of the Bible twice, memorizing key verses, and praying daily. They also need weekly involvement in ministry and in spiritual conversations with unbelievers. Finally, each student sets a personal application goal following each module to complete in the three months before the next module. Each student is assigned a mentor who checks in with them at least every two weeks, including some in-person home visits out in the villages. Mentors pray with participants and help them apply what they've been learning in the modules and homework to their daily lives. I'm planning to help mentor one young woman whose passion for prayer and evangelism was infectious - I know I'll benefit from our time together, whether or not she does!

In class, everyone read overviews of each book of the Bible from What the Bible Is About for Young Explorers (see sample pages below in English and Khmer) and studied the books through lectures and interactive activities. There were many opportunities to read and take notes, but the PVSAM is designed to be accessible to those with limited literacy. One current participant is functionally illiterate, while a few others are weak in reading and writing. So students received photos and images corresponding to various teaching points (ex. a mountain for the Sermon on the Mount, or a painting of the wedding at Cana). Students could paste them into their notebooks and were encouraged to draw their notes, not just write them. All written materials were read aloud so students could rely mainly on listening if needed. And the activities were all doable without writing.

 

For example, after learning that Matthew portrays Jesus as the long-awaited King in David's line, we made paper crowns for ourselves as children of the King. Small groups took turns acting out key events in Jesus' life and ministry, as well as retelling and explaining parables. We cut out paper in the shape of praying hands, and on the papers we wrote or drew things related to the Lord's Prayer. We made up hand gestures for the seven word pictures in Jesus' "I Am" statements (the Good Shepherd, the Way, the Vine, etc.). We recited aloud the four core points of orthodox Christian doctrine (Christ came to earth, died, rose again, and ascended to heaven) and discussed how cults distort these doctrines. We also prayed, sang worship songs, danced to a kids' song, played games, watched the Jesus movie, did an aerobics workout, and ate together. 

The program was over 12 hours a day. I was exhausted even though I missed Friday's sessions to travel to another event. But the team packed a lot in! The video below can give you a glimpse of our week together. I'm thankful for my conversations and participation with everyone. I felt warmly welcomed and included as a newcomer, and I was encouraged by others' insights and stories. Despite the fatigue, I'm looking forward to future modules. God is at work among these courageous young leaders, and I don't want to miss a minute!

The bravest people I know

Did you ever meet someone who gives you a window into another world? Someone whose life story is so radically different from yours that just listening to them feels like hallowed ground? Someone who makes you question, "Am I strong enough, brave enough, to live like them?"

I had that feeling one night this year when I met "A" through a mutual friend. A and his wife and kids (now teens and tweens) fled their homeland a few years ago due to religious persecution. They are now in limbo, caught between violent threats in the country they left, dead ends in their current host country, and financial barriers to the country they want to enter. They've inspired me to start a GoFundMe page for the first time in my life - not as courageous as their actions, but still an intimidating step into the unknown.

This is not ancient history or an impersonal news article. It's the real-life experiences of a husband and wife and their four kids, regular people who knew the massive risks of serving Christ in their context... and said yes anyway. They're night owls who enjoy biking and SpongeBob. They're cutthroat card players whose laughter echoes off the walls. One daughter covered my hands with henna designs. Another helps her mom cook seriously good food. This is the unfinished story of my friends, and I want you to hear it in A's own words (edited for clarity and security).

***

My name is A.M. My family and I are from South Asia. Due to religious persecution, we have fled from our homeland and hope to resettle in North America. To apply for visas, we need funds for our first year of living expenses there.

 

Unfortunately, our home country's law is dictated by a religion that seeks to harm and eliminate citizens of other faiths. As Christians, we lived without protection.

 

I used to go to different villages for prayer meetings. God enabled me to donate to poor families who were in need. I became aware of people trapped in debt-slavery, laboring day and night in brick kilns. I began to spend money to free these families and also shared my faith with them. Some had been forced by the kiln owners to convert to the majority faith, but they wanted to return to Christianity. Soon, their numbers increased. People showed interest in following Jesus after being freed.

 

This interest did not go unnoticed by the religious leaders and brick kiln owners. They grew angry over the freedom and faith of these poor people. My family and I began to receive threats from extremists with power and money. They would follow my daughters and try to kidnap them, in hopes of forcing them to convert and marry older men of the majority religion.

 

A few years ago, they attacked me and tried to kill me, but God graciously protected me with His mighty hand. People came to my assistance. However, government officials would not protect me, fearing for their own lives and families. Despite the many threats, my appeals for protection were ignored. The men who were against me found out about my appeals, and the persecution increased.

For security reasons, my family shifted to another city, but we were tracked down. The locals pleaded with us to go, so we moved again. The same thing continued to happen: we were tracked and had to flee. Religious leaders sided against us, and the police and courts threw out my case.

 

My church and my friends helped us to escape from South Asia and find refuge in an intermediary nation. It's been difficult to be stripped of culture, language, work, extended family, etc. Although we are safer here, we do not speak the language, and we cannot become citizens. We have struggled to find employment in this poor country with a faltering economy. Our children have not been able to attend school in several years. 

Our fervent hope and prayer is to be granted asylum and a new home in North America. A trustworthy refugee resettlement agency has offered to obtain permanent residency for us, with the right to work and a clear path to citizenship. But first, we must secure funding for our first year of living expenses. Our family of six needs $45,000 for housing, food, transportation, and other basics during that year of transition. We are grateful for your support as we pursue a brighter future for our children.

***

Several friends and I are teaming up to run a GoFundMe page for A's family. We hope this fund-raiser can provide them with much or all of their first-year expenses in North America. If they cannot attain that dream, donations may be redirected toward helping them rebuild their lives in their current host country. Got questions? (I sure did!) Send me a private message and I'd be happy to share more. We'd really appreciate your prayers and gifts for their family! 

The Carnival: Songs from the Tilt-a-Whirl

In February 2020, I read and loved N.D. Wilson's Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl:Wide-Eyed Wonder in God's Spoken World. This genre-defying book combines humor, storytelling, philosophy, commentary on visual art, and more, to wrestle with questions like "Why would a good God allow suffering?" and "How do we know what's really true?" It's quirky yet profound, captivating my heart and mind with observations on the minutiae of his surroundings:

• The ants pouring out when he lifts a rock to mow the lawn. 
• The man who elbows him in the head playing basketball. 
• The functions of intestines. 
• The quest of his toddler to touch a butterfly. 

Many times during Covid, I thought back to some of the book's vivid imagery and creative perspectives. It strengthened me to laugh, to trust, to bring fresh eyes to my stale surroundings. I wanted more people to experience the joy I had in reading it, but name-dropping it didn't have much effect. 

Earlier this year, I sent some favorite passages from it to a friend, Jeff, whose apartment building was quarantined for several weeks. I thought it might be a fun diversion, but he replied with something like, "I'm so confused. What is this about? Is it random word generated prose?" Hang in there, I urged. The writing isn't always linear, but it slowly builds a line of thinking that's worth the fight. "I think I need to hear this as a song," Jeff concluded. On their own, these brilliant paragraphs weren't quite communicating like I'd hoped.

That sparked an idea. I'd recently begun experimenting with songwriting and thought this book could be a great fit. I tried to turn one part into a song, but it kept expanding as I spotted more connections between ideas and images. Finally, I split it into multiple songs to let the story unfold at a leisurely pace.

Some of my favorite albums are those that tell a story. Has a lyric, concept, or musical element from one song ever surprised and delighted you by re-emerging in a later song? I love that. Maybe I could tell this story via songs, and maybe listeners wouldn't feel as stressed about the connection from one song to the next as they would if reading a book. That's what drove this "Songs from the Tilt-a-Whirl" project. So far I've written seven songs, inspired by the first 20% of the book. How many more to come? No idea. Whether or not they all find an external audience like you, I've really enjoyed this way to engage more deeply with Wilson's work. But you'll have a chance to hear at least the next few in the weeks to come.

Here is song #1, based on the book's opening pages.

The Carnival

I am a traveler Not on the road like *Kerouac I am a traveler More like the flea on a dog’s back I am a traveler Couldn’t stop this journey if I tried I’m with the Carnival It’s where I’ve played and I’ve grown up I’m with the Carnival Where I’ve slept and I’ve thrown up I’m with the Carnival Death will get me into the gnarly rides We all spin around As we orbit 67,000 miles an hour We all spin around In this hurricane of stars We all spin around I cling to the lawn fearing I might fly What is this tilt-a-whirl? Full of bugs and full of spheres What is this tilt-a-whirl? A pockmarked ball pulls the oceans near What is this tilt-a-whirl? Wilder than pulp fiction could describe *Jack Kerouac is an American author whose 1957 novel On the Road is based on his travels with friends across the United States.

Whenever possible, I spliced together Wilson's original language, and I haven't added any of my own meaning. The opening line, "I am a traveler," is not inspired by my time overseas. It's the book's opening sentence, discussing a kind of travel experienced by all humans. This song also explains the book's title. If you find it confusing, don't be shy to write me. :) 

Like my other songs, it's condensed and missing a ton of the book's great phrasing and content. But I hope it hints at the flavor of this chapter, maybe even enough that you'll want to read the original. (Because we all know the book is better.)

So far, my songs have not persuaded Jeff to read the book... but he did say they helped him value its content. He graciously collaborated on this one, providing vocals (I'm on backup), guitar, and the video. Thanks Jeff! 

Homebody - an original song

I've gotten into songwriting the past year. I guess it's my new Covid hobby. Most of the songs I've written so far are part of a series that I'll introduce soon. But this one, "Homebody," stands alone, and even though it's my most recent, I'd like to share it first. 

In the group where I originally shared it, we had a "no disclaimers" rule. Each participant had to play their song and share the lyrics before explaining anything. So I'll abide by that policy here and give the background below.

The Lyrics:

1. What’s it like to leave Peoria

After a whole century?

Looking out your bedroom window,

Do you ever have to blink?

Daddy’s fields are far from sight.

You’ve always been a homebody.

Why see Chicago?

All you’d ever wanted was right there.

You delighted in the flowers and birds 

And people you’d known all your life

Like your love could never fade away. 

2. I tasted travel as a toddler.

Now it’s in my blood, I think.

Looking out my bedroom window, 

Still some days I have to blink.

Phnom Penh streets are bold and bright.

I’ve never been a homebody.

Why shut out the wide world?

My heart has scattered pieces here and there.

Fighting to delight in the flowers and birds 

And people revolving through my life,

I pray my love will never fade away. 

3. A third your age and triple the hometowns,

Both of us are moving on.

You finally outgrew your old house,

Hungry for a deeper bond.

Home beckoned you across the night.

Now you’ll always be a homebody.

Why miss Peoria?

All you’ve ever wanted is right here.

You’re delighting in the flowers and birds

And people like you’ve known them all your life

Filled with love that only grows more dear. 

4. What’s it like to trade your body

After a whole century?

Looking in your bedroom mirror,

Can you even help but blink?

Abba’s beauty floods your sight.

Nobody does homebody like you

But someday I’ll be a homebody too.

The Story:

In August, just before returning to the US, I joined an online workshop on songwriting. It included two Zoom sessions with a facilitator and a small group of peers who performed original songs for the others to critique and encourage. I was way out of my league, but I loved hearing what they'd written, and their insights for me were valuable!

For the second session, we were asked to write an original song with one week's notice, incorporating these four elements:

• Starts with a question
• Addresses someone we haven't talked with in a long time
• Mentions a room in our house
• Uses only three chords (in any combination or order) in the chorus

I was intimidated by the thought of combining all these aspects, but if you search for "creativity constraints quote," you'll find many different people who have observed that the latter fuels the former. My song flowed quickly once I started.

 

I decided to write a song for my step-grandma, Irene Hoeltje, who married my grandpa (both were widowed) before I was born. She loved my family and me like there was no "step" about it. She passed away in July, a month shy of her 100th birthday, which was literally during the workshop in August. A lifelong Peoria resident whose retirement community was built on land from her parents' farm, Grandma Irene was never a big traveler, but in recent years she couldn't wait to go meet her beloved Jesus. 

My song is inspired partly by my 2016 blog post about visiting Grandma. It's also reflecting on the parallel between her passing and my decision the same month to leave Phnom Penh and start over in a small Cambodian town next year. I'm excited to move to this community that's drawn me since my first visit years ago, but part of me wishes I could put down deeper roots with one place and group of people, like Grandma did. This song explores how our sharply contrasting lives are shaped by the same love and hope. Heaven holds what neither of us have been used to, but what both of us have always wanted most.

With Grandma and her daughter, my Aunt Linda

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you might remember that last year's Hutchmoot conference initially sparked my interest in songwriting. Specifically, I was moved by Hutchmoot's discussion of the Tolkien short story "Leaf by Niggle." (Hutchmoot is coming up again October 8-10 and I can't wait! It's about art, music, story, and faith. Join with me and we'll have fantastic conversation starters. Tickets are $20 for dozens of hours of online content, which you can livestream or watch later.)

As I explored lyrics and music last fall for the first song I ever wrote, unsure which should come first, I came up with the guitar riff used in "Homebody." It never fit right with that song, but there's a clip of just the guitar in my blog post about "Niggle." 

In August, after I wrote the lyrics and started the melody for "Homebody," I realized that this guitar riff worked perfectly for both the verses and the chorus. Plus its arpeggios use only three chords, complying with the songwriting prompt. I wasn't sure I could play something so complex while singing, but it came together with a bit of practice. I was amazed! It's like this was meant to be. 

Ten things I wonder about my life next year

It's official! I'm leaving for the US in two weeks and will return to Cambodia around New Year's... but not to my status quo. Instead, I'm planning to move to the capital of Preah Vihear province, a small town about five hours away. I loved immersing myself in Khmer language and culture there and have often visited since then. But of course moving there long-term will be an adjustment.

I've been wondering for a while about the timing of my US trip and the team that I should join next, now that I'm no longer on the education team. So it's great to have both of those questions settled. At the same time, as I announce this news, I'm fielding questions that I've been contemplating myself. I'm posting some of my questions here with my best stab at their answers.

1. What exactly will I be doing? 

World Team's Preah Vihear (PV) team has many great things that I could get involved in: a high school dorm for students from low-income rural families, a Bible school for house church leaders in the villages, Bible studies and church plants in the villages, translation and creation of Christian resources, and trainings for Sunday Schools teachers. There are other possibilities like guest-teaching for education majors at a local college and teaching English to kids in town. I won't be able to invest significant time into every one of those. It sounds like early on, a priority will be visiting Bible school students and dorm alumni in their homes out in the villages, to encourage them and help them start more Bible studies. As I observe and dabble in other programs, hopefully I'll find my niche over time. For now, I'm also continuing my role as a language coach for other World Teamers in Cambodia, mostly remotely. 

A small group of dorm students discussing during a nutrition seminar I led in 2018

2. Where am I going to live?

I'm going to start out living with fellow World Teamers Jim and Carolyn Gabriels in their traditional Khmer wooden home while I adjust to life in PV. I'm so grateful they were willing - I feel very comfortable with them, and it makes my transition more gradual. The plan is that for at least the first six months, I'll share the rent for my Phnom Penh apartment, where my dear friend Rachana will be staying. That means I can leave most of my furniture here for now and will still have a bed available when I visit PP. I'll see what's available for rent in PV and eventually transition to my own place there... after that, I can stay in a guest room at the World Team office when in PP. 

Petting a neighbor's calf in front of the Gabriels' home during my 2016 visit

3. How much time will I spend in Phnom Penh?

The Gabriels and their teammates Joel and Sina recommended that I plan to visit the city about once a month. That will let me decompress, maintain friendships here, stock up on groceries (anything most Cambodians don't eat is probably not for sale in PV), manage errands and appointments, and meet my language coachees. I'm not sure how long each visit will be - probably between two and five nights. It depends partly on how much I need to do in each place and how much can be done remotely. I'm hoping to find a balance that will allow me to thrive, and I'm not sure yet what that will look like.

4. What will I drive?

I was initially assuming I'd need to buy a larger, more powerful motor scooter. My 50-CC Honda Today runs pretty well, but it bottoms out even on some speed bumps and can't handle rutted or flooded dirt roads. But Jim recommended that I keep it for now and plan to borrow his motor scooter and/or car for my trips to farther-out villages. My Honda Today is fine for getting around this town of 24,000; we'll see if I can make it work for a while or will want more freedom to go to the villages. Either way, I'll need a license for the first time after a decade here. (I don't even have a driver's license for motorcycles, let alone cars - I think licenses are only required for motos above 125 CC.)

Can you believe Silat and I beat the storm home that day?

5. Who will I spend time with?

I know some of the people that I hope to hang out with. Besides the four other World Teamers, who are some of my favorite people ever, I'd count one Cambodia YWAM staff (Silat) as a dear friend and am friendly with the other three as well as the three staff kids. (Can't wait to be the kids' "ming" again!) I was also excited to see my teammates' plans for following up with dorm alumni and Bible students; I enjoy several of them who lived in the dorm during my summer there. Turnover is inevitable - some friends are planning time away to study or get more experience, and several dorm alumni would like to return as dorm staff now that they've graduated from YWAM's Discipleship Training School. In short, I'm excited to renew existing relationships but I'll need to stay flexible and begin many new friendships. It will be a big change for me to have very few other foreigners around, and I'm expecting to feel lonely and out of place at times. But the Cambodians I know there are very gracious and I've been so glad to see the deep mutual trust they've built with my fellow American teammates.

6. What is God going to do?

I really don't know this one. If the past year didn't teach us that life is hard to predict, I don't know what would! What I do know is that when World Teamers first went there, Preah Vihear had about a dozen believers in the whole province. Now it has dozens of house churches! I believe God wants His children in Preah Vihear to mature, let truth permeate every area of their lives, and multiply as they share the good news of Jesus with their families and neighbors. I hope to come along for the ride. 

7. What new things will I need to learn?

A lot, I'm sure. How to change a tire. How to ride a manual moto. How to find my way around rural roads and villages that all look similar to me right now. What to do when my home is visited by a biting gecko or a vicious centipede or even (shudder) a snake. How to grocery shop for a month at a time. I'm going to be spending a lot of time in farming communities, and I can barely pick a mango or remember the word for "plough." My Khmer speaking will definitely need to improve as I'll have a lot more conversation time, and I hope to get better at understanding the PV dialect. I have a feeling next year will also stretch me spiritually and teach me new things about myself. I'm expecting a lot of growth opportunities!

Sometimes visitors do you a favor and eat each other. Photo credit: Holly Ferguson.

8. What will I do for fun?

One thing I'm excited about is the scenery - PV has more "mountains" (OK, foothills at least) than most of Cambodia. There are day trips in the area to waterfalls, a sort of lake, etc. During my summer there, I often had fun cooking Western food like tacos with help from my Khmer friends, who have mad kitchen skills (homemade tortillas? better than mine!) and flexible taste buds. We also played a lot of Nerts, a card game, so I'd like to stock up on card/board games that don't require a lot of English. Dorm activities included regular aerobics classes and dance parties. Cambodians in general are good at sitting around chatting without needing a lot of structured activities. I've always been an avid reader and have recently gotten into songwriting, two hobbies that are portable and can be done in solitude. (Though I'd love to try partnering with Cambodians to write a song in Khmer!) I'll be 2 1/2 hours from Siem Reap, a popular destination for my Phnom Penh friends as well as international visitors, so I'm expecting to spend some weekends there. There are many options, and who knows what else I'll discover?

9. Will I feel ready to move?

My US visits have ranged from three weeks to two years, and I've never felt fully "ready" to say goodbye to my family. So even though this trip (4.5 months) is longer than the last few, I'm sure my return will be bittersweet. Plus I'm nervous about all these unknowns. But I'm already excited and hoping to feel recharged and ready to jump in come January. I've felt drawn to PV since my first visit in 2016 and have wondered what it would be like to make it my home. Here's my chance.

10. Will I be OK?

There are so many ways to define "OK"-ness and so few guarantees about what next year holds. I don't think next year will always be comfortable or straightforward, though I do think I'll have a good group of people rooting for and helping me. 

This quote keeps coming to mind:

Next year I will need God in new ways, and in many of the same ways that I have always needed Him. And next year, He will be available for me, abundantly providing His presence and goodness. He goes ahead of me and He meets me wherever I am. That's really the only answer I need, for next year and for all the days leading up to it.

Adventures with strangers

Some people think life in Cambodia must be constantly exotic and inspiring. Let the record show: despite being far from home, my life is often pretty mundane. In April, walking the dog I was sitting was the highlight of most days, a break from typing, reading, and Zoom meetings from my living room. Sound familiar?

But every now and then, a day hurls enough comedy, tragedy, and adventure at me to make up for months of monotony. 

One of those surprising days happened two weeks ago Tuesday. And it all started with walking the dog.

Remember the dirt alley next to my house that I passed through four times a day on Agrippa's walks? The one where kids always stopped us to say hi? I started recognizing more neighbors there. I stopped a few times in front of an open door where a woman inside looked at me. I smiled. She didn't.

One day, there was a much older woman sitting in front of the door. "What animal are you kids looking at?" she asked. I realized she was nearly blind. "A dog," they replied. "Oh, I like dogs too," she replied warmly.

The next afternoon, both women were waiting by my gate for us. "Could you please give me money?" the elderly one asked. "I don't have a family. I need food and medicine. I'm 95 years old." I was startled - I’ve never seen people begging near my house, though my neighbors have a wide range of income levels. 

Puzzled, I looked at "Auntie" for verification, who nodded while "Grandma" sat serenely, inches from Agrippa's massive frame. "I'm not her relative. I just found her a couple days ago, sleeping on the street. I felt bad for her so I invited her into my home. Her only living relatives are teenage street kids with no phone numbers. She got stuck in our area because of the lockdown and I can't get her back to them. I've been trying to buy medicine every day for her but it's expensive. She has a chronic condition." Auntie gestured at evidence of her guest’s poor health. I was embarrassed; Grandma wasn’t.

Was Grandma really 95, a quarter-century past Cambodia's life expectancy? When had she become this vulnerable, and how had she landed at Auntie’s? Whether or not the whole story was true, clearly neither woman was wealthy. Nor were they closely related: I couldn’t imagine a Cambodian disrespecting their mom enough to claim she was actually a homeless stranger.

I gave Grandma some money and offered to take them soon to a Christian clinic that partners with churches and NGO’s to offer discounted rates for low-income Cambodians. Though it was my first time referring patients, I was much more comfortable covering medical care than giving cash like I’d just done.

I returned to Auntie's house two days later with a medical form. Grandma was lying on the floor shirtless with her back to the door. She was barely conscious and didn't move the whole ten minutes that the rest of us struggled with her form. 

"She won't eat or drink. She wants her grandkids," Auntie told me.

"Should we still take her to the clinic? It’s an hour away and it doesn’t take overnight patients. Maybe she should just rest."

"No, she needs a doctor. If she gets better, I can take her to look for her grandkids… she knows their general area. And I have a throat tumor, see? It’s why I can’t work. I have to take meds every day or I'll die." My medical vocab isn't that great, and Auntie's raspy voice was hard to understand through her mask. So even if Auntie had a correct diagnosis, I’m not sure I heard it right.

"OK, we'll ask the doctor to look at you too." I asked if I could pray for them both, and nobody minded. I kept praying that evening, feeling very hesitant and out of my depth. If nothing else, I’ll get to know them better through this trip, I told myself. I’ve been wanting to reach out more to neighbors and show Jesus' love. This could be my chance. I practiced a brief Gospel presentation just in case.

The next morning, it took us 30 minutes to get a groggy Grandma into a shirt, shoes, a mask, and a neighbor’s tuk-tuk (motorcycle taxi). "The doctor will give you an IV so you'll feel better!" Auntie told her brightly. Auntie's 16-year-old granddaughter "Kunthea," who'd come along to help out, nodded. Auntie's cheerfulness faded as we drove on and on. "Does this hospital have good doctors?" 

"Yes, very good. And we can trust them to tell us the truth." I just hoped our trip wasn't in vain. Auntie had wanted to let Grandma sleep in, and we arrived 90 minutes later than the recommended time for new patients. Thankfully, it wasn't too crowded. The staff asked us the standard questions about Covid exposure and symptoms, took our temperatures, let us in, and helped Grandma into a wheelchair - what a relief!

Signing in was comical. I misread the handwritten Khmer on our first form and copied Grandma's name wrong. Her medical history was blank. Same with her address and phone number. For her birthdate, I wrote 1925, shocking the receptionist. Her health complaints were vague. I felt like the kind, polite staff weren't sure what to do with us.

Next, I joined Grandma and Kunthea in the waiting area, sending Auntie inside to register. "But I can't write!" she protested.

"OK, then dictate to the receptionist."

Ten minutes later, she hadn't emerged. Instead, the receptionist came to ask if we could help tell her Auntie's info. I couldn’t, and neither could Kunthea. "What do you mean, you don't know your grandma's name?” asked the startled receptionist. “What do other people call her?" Kunthea shrugged shyly. (Later Auntie told me Kunthea went to elementary school but had trouble learning.)

"Auntie knows all this. Can't you just ask her?" I pleaded. 

"I can't. She's already inside." I was baffled, but the receptionist had already walked away. Later, we learned Auntie had been coughing and they’d sent her to the Covid isolation area. I told the staff that Auntie’s cough was probably from her chronic throat condition, but they said to go ahead with Grandma’s appointment and meet Auntie at the end. What choice did I have?

Kunthea smiled when I returned to the waiting area. "Just now, someone was telling us about Jesus. I like hearing about him. I used to go every week to a kids' program near my house. People told stories and gave us snacks, but now they've stopped meeting." 

Delighted, I asked if she remembered any stories about him, but she said no. "I love stories about Jesus too," I told her. "Maybe we can read one together today." 

Grandma's turn came to check vital signs. To everyone's chagrin, she kept pulling off her mask. I put it back on, feeling bad for her. It was my fault she was going through this discomfort, and I still wasn’t sure the clinic would be able to relieve her symptoms. 

"Has she eaten or drunk anything today? You need to make her," the nurses admonished us as they sent us back out. We tried, with other patients looking on across the waiting area, but Grandma was too stubborn. Kunthea, on the other hand, was happy to share my snacks and water. "I usually get to eat just once or twice a day. What about you?" Oof. No wonder she's so thin. 

They called Grandma back in to take a blood sample. Grandma was not happy. Neither were the nurses, when they saw her low oxygen levels. They consulted with each other, then took her temperature. She'd passed the temperature check at the entrance, but now she was definitely feverish. "Take Grandma to isolation. You can meet Auntie there." 

A friendly isolation nurse asked me, “Auntie seems like a really kind person. Is she Christian?”

“I don’t think so…” I asked Auntie and she said that she was. I was surprised - I thought I’d seen a Buddhist shrine in her home. She added that she misses her old church and can’t read the Bible on her own. I offered to read a Bible story aloud later and she seemed pleased.

The nurse returned with our receipts and told me, “Please take them both for a Covid test, pronto. Let us know the results." Auntie and I reassured an anxious Kunthea that needing a test didn’t necessarily mean you’d be positive.

As we loaded Grandma back into the tuk-tuk, the staff reminded us, "Please go right away to the Khmer-Soviet Hospital!" 

The driver turned to me, alarmed. "Why do you need to go there?" These days, it's used exclusively for Covid testing and treatment. I told him tests were needed, and he grew agitated. "Don't tell them I was your driver! They'll lock me up too! I'm not going to that place!" 

"No, we don't have Covid," Auntie snapped. "Everyone's fine. We're going home. And we’re dropping off Grandma on the way." She muttered about the strict hospital staff, started a rapid phone conversation, and occasionally slapped Kunthea, making me wince. Every five minutes, Auntie coughed, making the driver wince. Kunthea was squished up front next to him. Grandma was squished between Auntie and me. Whatever germs were present, we were sharing them all.

Grandma's hand resting on my leg on the way back

I didn't argue with Auntie. It was already 11:30, and we’d been together since 8. We were all tired and thirsty. Was it OK to buy water on the way if we might have Covid? What about lunch? How long would we have to wait for tests? Would our driver abandon us and leave us to prop Grandma up for hours? Could we find another driver willing to pick us up from the testing center? I was overwhelmed, but I knew they needed these tests. 

I let us go all the way home, right past the Covid testing center and 30 minutes farther. As we piled out into the crowded alley, rumors started flying before I could even pay the driver. "Is it Covid?" someone asked. 

"Of course not!" Auntie retorted. “That’s ridiculous!” 

Once we'd gotten Grandma into the house, I pulled her aside. "Eat lunch and take a nap, but we’re going at two for Covid tests." To my surprise, Auntie didn’t argue.

Fortified by lunch and water, I booked a new driver with a bigger tuk-tuk so Kunthea could sit in the back with us. He kindly agreed to wait with us so Grandma could stay in the tuk-tuk. I was so grateful! Kunthea and I took turns guarding Grandma’s side of the tuk-tuk since she kept trying to stand and threatened to tumble to the ground. Our driver seemed remarkably unfazed, even with two terrified testees gasping and wheezing loudly nearby.

The staff said they couldn't test Grandma and Auntie, who hadn't brought ID along to verify their address and phone number. “But you have to – another hospital sent us here and said they have to be tested!” Meanwhile, the Christian hospital was calling me to ask if the tests were completed. We finally convinced them to list my contact info instead. After that, Auntie and Kunthea quickly made it through the line, and the staff tested Grandma right inside the tuk-tuk. Amazing!

On the way back, Auntie was desperate to drop Grandma off. I told her we should wait for the test results before sending her somewhere new, but Auntie directed the driver to another part of town. She called someone and yelled for a while before giving up and telling the driver to go home. “They’re still locked down,” she sighed, defeated.

I flipped my Bible open to Mark 5, where Jesus heals the dead girl and the sick woman. It was so perfect, my eyes welled with tears. I don't think Auntie was really able to concentrate on my narration, but she told me it sounded pretty. I told them, "Jesus loves old people and young people, people who are sick for a long time and a short time, people with and without a family to help them. He even called the penniless, sick woman his daughter."

When we got back, Auntie started telling neighbors, “It's fine, we tested negative. I told you we would!” I wasn't sure when to expect results, but I knew she didn’t have them yet. She invited me inside to sit and chat, and I thought, Why not? If they have Covid, I’ve already had plenty of exposure to them today. So I sat with her family for ten minutes, sipping on the cool water they brought me. 

A man around Auntie’s age coughed frequently. His skin was covered in red circles, indicating he’d done cupping recently. Auntie told the hospital she didn’t know anyone with symptoms. This is crazy. Why did she want to go with us if she was afraid of testing? A pale young man, shirtless with a necklace and an asymmetrical haircut, asked about my age, my marital status, and if he could add me on Facebook. I almost refused, but I let him send a request. A young woman with tattoos, probably his sister, asked, “So you helped today because of Jesus?”

"Yes! He's the reason I have hope, the reason I want to show love to Cambodians!" They told me they were "all three" religions - Christianity, Buddhism, and... something else I didn't recognize. I summarized the story I’d read that afternoon with the three women, and told them a one-minute version of what Jesus has done for us, the first time I’ve shared with a group. They listened attentively. Then I went home, took a hot shower, boiled my clothes, and disinfected my bag and its contents. That's when I realized I'd never told Auntie's family about the results not being in yet.

I spent most of the evening on the phone. My landlady Pheak asked me to self-quarantine until I knew the test results in a day or two. My neighbor Rachana kindly agreed to walk Agrippa for me. The isolation nurse from this morning and the young man (Auntie's son) both asked me to verify Auntie's story about already receiving negative test results. I’m so glad I added him! Now I can communicate with their family. I asked him to have the whole family stay inside while waiting for results. On behalf of his family, he thanked me again for my help. Thanks for what? My impression is that nobody with Covid wants the government to know, unless they need serious medical attention. I wondered if Auntie was ranting about my meddling.

I was sad but not surprised the next evening to learn that all three women were positive. But there were more surprises ahead. My next two weeks would be homebound, but far from mundane.

Continued in Part 2...