Afajita

When we lived in the Beng Trabek neighborhood in Phnom Penh, we had these neighbors who were movin’ on up. The family ran several businesses from their house. One of the daughters was the neighborhood money changer, changing American dollars intoKhmerriel . Another daughter cooked and sold breakfast food early in the morning. The grandmother ran a laundry mat, hand washing and ironing clothes with one of those “old fashion” coal heated irons. One of the sons ran a betting table for soccer.

Suffice it to say, they weren’t doing too bad financially. When a granddaughter turned one, they had a huge celebration. Silas and I were the token foreigners among about a hundred guests. The party felt more like a wedding, complete with a tent, catered dinner, huge loud speakers, and a cake topped with several sparklers (in place of candles). The young parents where decked out like they were going to the prom. I thought, “Man they sure are making quite a fuss for a one year old”. Then I realized the party wasn’t for the baby, but for the parents. It was kind of a ghetto way of showing the neighborhood that they were raking in some dough.

The father of this baby even bought a car. I remember the first day he drove it into the neighborhood. Danny and I happen to be standing outside of their house when we saw this souped up mini SUV roll in. When we saw how huge big daddy’s grin was, we couldn’t help but laugh. We wondered, “Where in the world is he going to park the thing?” Let’s just say,Beng Trabek is not the type of neighborhood equipped with parking space.

I was happy for them. I didn’t agree with their choice of spending, but hey if they want to experience some little luxuries, who am I to judge? They seemed to working hard and it was paying off.

Unfortunately, that’s where their fortune ended. Soon after the big birthday bash I was hanging out with another neighbor. She started complaining about the rich family who was starting to get too proud and look down on the other neighbors. She said that they were wasting their money on stupid things just to show off. I pretty much agreed but wasn’t going to take sides and participate in neighborhood rivalries so I didn’t respond to what she was saying.

Gradually, we started hearing more and more complaints about his family; particularly about one of the sons who began operating a gambling den on the first floor. The gambling was running around the clock and was getting out of control. This guy was often drunk and his violent outbursts were becoming more and more frequent. Grandma and grandpa kept enabling their son’s reckless behavior by giving him money whenever he spazed out. They were afraid of him. Everyone was afraid of him. They had already lost several children to Pol Pot, maybe they were afraid of losing him as well.

Neighbors began urging our teammate, who was renting the upstairs room, to move out. It was not safe. Our teammate kept procrastinating but eventually he was forced to move out. The family had lost everything. They had no choice but to sell their home. Everyone, grandma, grandpa, kids and grandkids, was reduced to living in just one room.

They survived; albeit without the car, house or pride. A Christian neighbor told me she felt sorry for the young mother of the birthday girl. She started reaching out to her, inviting her to Bible study and church. I remember seeing the mom at Bible study once in a while. It gave me hope knowing that Christians were reaching out to them. I was encouraged to pray for this family regularly.

Regrettably, once I moved out of that neighborhood, I forgot about that family. Then just last week a teammate told me that tragedy struck them again. One of the daughters, the most responsible one, went out to by some medicine and never came back. The next day her family went out to look for her and found her in a hospital - dead. Apparently, she had no ID with her and was hit by a truck on the way home. She leaves behind a husband, two young children, a devastated family, and shaken neighbors.

Oh God have mercy!