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Pain In My Butt

One of Silas’ favorite games as of late consists of him shredding apart cardboard boxes into small strips. He then makes the rounds and divvies up the shreds to whoever is there. Most recipients wonder, “Why is this kid giving me pieces of trash?” But if you ask, Silas will answer, “I’m giving you money to help poor people”, then sighs and roles his eyes as if to say, “duh!” Another variation of this game consists of Silas sorting out his “money” into different piles while saying, “This money is to help poor people; this for sick people; and this for broken people.” The boy definitely picked up this “game” from his daddy.

I have to confess, Danny’s mantra of “live simply, give generously” is a real pain in the rear end, sometimes literally. During the first six months or so of marriage, our apartment was furnished with only a table and four folding chairs. We didn’t even have a mattress to sleep on. Danny finally gave in and bought a bed when he realized that the pain shooting from my butt into my right leg each morning was from sleeping on the floor. Seven years later, the pain in my butt STILL acts up once in a while.

Later, when we moved to the slums in Phnom Penh we had a bed but sat and ate on the floor. (So again there was no place to rest my weary butt.) Danny would look at our simply house and declare, “Isn’t this romantic?” I would look around at the small wooden place adorned with only a mosquito net and say, “No, romantic is flowers, candlelight dinners, vacationing in Paris!”

In terms of money, giving it away is Danny’s hobby. He often says his dream job would be to have a lot of money and then give it all away. To this I respond, “Well then, it must be a dream cuz you ain’t gonna get rich doing what you’re doing now!”

I have to be honest, giving is not natural for me. I am from a Taiwanese family and that means – SAVE!!! I do not like spending money on anything or giving to anyone. I am stingy, tight fisted, and love a good bargain. It is a HUGE struggle for me each time Danny says, “We have a surplus this month. Who should we give to?” My initial reaction is always to furrow my brow, purse my lips, fold my arms across my chest, and silently say “Don’t you dare!”

Last time we were on furlough another couple asked us what we do about saving for retirement. We told them that we put aside X amount in a mutual fund. They replied, “Oh, that’s pretty good.” Then there was this awkward silence because they realized that we meant “X amount a year”; probably about the same amount they save per month. I wonder who felt more uncomfortable during those few moments. I know I certainly felt pretty embarrassed.

Yes, I still have my little fantasies of living in a penthouse apartment in Manhattan, in addition to the beach side home in Malibu. But then I realize, I would much rather live in a shack with Danny then in a palace with anyone else. So, I guess I am lucky.

A little while ago, when I was in a more mushy mood, I said to Danny, “Thanks for marrying me.” He was kind of surprised by that random comment and said, “You say it like I’m doing you a favor. Who else would have married me?” I thought for a second and said, “Hum, good point.” And I have that pain in my butt to prove it!

2007 08 29 Family Comments (6) Permalink

Christian Voyeurism

What some might think is merely benign curiosity can easily turn into a sick perversion. There is a lot of this unhealthy curiosity or rather, “Christian voyeurism” here in Cambodia. There are certain types of ministries that people find “sexy”. Ministries dealing with issues such as destitute poverty, human trafficking, prostitution, and AIDS are particularly attractive. There is something disturbingly fascinating about desperately needy people and lives of pain.

Visitors line up to see these ministries, meet the folks, and take pictures with them as if it is part of a tour package. They walk through the slums just to see how the destitute live. The residents are degraded into mere zoo animals while the tourists get an arousal.

People often ask us if they can take a tour of the Sunrise hospice. They do not realize that when you are close to death, and your body is literally just skin and bones, you really do not want a bunch of strangers to gawk at you, shake their heads in pity, then proceed to take your picture. The purpose of the hospice is to provide a place where these patients can die with dignity. It is not a tourist attraction.

We have had requests to post pictures of the poor and sick people we talk about. People comment, “In all the pictures, everyone seems happy and healthy to me”. I suspect that the same people would be upset and offended if I took their picture when they have the flu or just woke up in the morning. Why should it be any different for a Cambodian?

I hope visitors to Cambodia will see that people are people, not show items.

2007 08 23 Cambodia Comments (4) Permalink

Phone Mania

Several years ago at CCFC Pastor Soong-Chan became fed up with cell phones going off in the middle of service. One Sunday, when I was doing announcements, I received a call on my cell phone. To the congregation’s astonishment, I picked up my phone and instead of turning it off, I answered it. I remember the awkward hush that swept through the crowd when I put the phone to my ear. I could almost hear them thinking, “What in the world are you doing?” Within three seconds the uncomfortable silence was broken by hysterics when those dumbfounded realized that we had set them up. Soong-Chan called me. We were just trying to make a point, “Turn your cell phones off!”

Even though cell phone etiquette could still use some improvements in the States, it is still completely foreign in Cambodia. People are obsessed with their phones. Once one is acquired, it seems the possessor becomes possessed. They cannot put the thing down; their fingers anxiously fiddle with the buttons as if they have a nervous tick. What they are doing with the thing, I haven’t got a clue. I never knew a phone could be such an object of infatuation.

Danny and I have a family rule that we do not answer the phone during meals. In fact, we answer the phone only when we feel like it. It drives our Cambodian friends crazy. But it also drives me crazy when they feel compelled to pick up my phone when they notice that I’m not.

You would think that EACH call is an emergency, the way Cambodians lunge as soon as they hear their tone go off. If it rings in the middle of a meeting, they do not sheepishly turn it off nor do they discreetly leave the room to answer it. They will answer it right there and yap away. Once at church, the pastor’s phone rang in the middle of his sermon. He paused to answer his phone while the congregation patiently waited until his conversation was done and he resumed his message. The weirdest part was no one thought it was weird!

I thought about this fanaticism in answering phones and realized there are two possible explanations. First, people who do not own phones or do not have money on their phones make calls from “phone booths” (a person with a phone sitting on the side of a street will let you use it and charge you by the minute). If the receiver does not answer the phone, the caller ends up at the booth for a long time calling over and over again. In that particular part of town or village, it might be impractical to try to make the call at another time. Moreover, in Cambodia, you only pay when you are making a call. Receiving them is free. The caller will make a call, wait for the first ring, and then hang up right away. They know that their number will appear on the receiver’s screen and hopes that the receiver will call them back on their charge. In order to preempt the caller, the receiver then HAS to answer the call as soon as they hear it ring. Thus, the panic stricken lunge takes place.

A few days ago Danny dropped the phone into the toilet (ask him if you want the story) so we are phoneless for right now. Phew, what a relief! Now we have a legitimate excuse not to answer the phone.

2007 07 20 Cambodia Comments (3) Permalink

Babies sleep in cages?

When we came to Cambodia I was a complete novice at motherhood. Silas was only 5 months old. I kind of made it a point not to read too many of those “How to Raise Kids the Right Way” books. All the contradictory advice is much too confusing; so Danny and I figured we’d just wing it, the “trial by error” technique. Now that we’ve lived in Cambodia for 3 years already, and our kids are still alive, I’m glad I put those books aside. I’ve realized that not only is parenting advice inconsistent, it’s also impractical for a place like this.

In Cambodia, if you leave a baby to cry for more than 5 minutes, they’d want to call DSS on you (if such a thing existed). Babies are meant to be held at ALL times. No need for “attachment parenting” counsel here. There’s no such thing as a “baby monitor”. Why would you have a little toy “watch” your baby when there’s always someone–mom, grandma, auntie, big sister and neighbors looking after him?

There is no fuss over how to set up the nursery, because there is no nursery. Most Cambodian homes are one room houses. Everyone, mom, dad, kids, grandma, the neighbor’s kids…sleeps in that one room. (It makes me wonder, “How then are Cambodians able to have so many kids?” But the thought gets too disturbing to give it any more than a few seconds.) If a baby cries at night it wakes everyone up, including the neighbor who lives no more than a couple feet away. Good luck letting junior cry it out. Baby sleeps next to mommy so at the tiniest whimper he can be comforted and nursed.

Moreover, having to use mosquito nets makes things much more complicated if baby is in another bed. Whenever you need to get him you would have to undo your net, get out of bed, redo your net, undo baby’s net, get the baby, redo baby’s net, re-undo your net, bring the baby into your bed, fix the net … by now, there’s at least 20 mosquitoes in bed with you. Therefore, most babies sleep with mom at least until they are fully weaned at about 2 or 3 years old. (We have a friend who claims he nursed until he was 10, but that’s a story for another time.) At this point, they may graduate to sleeping with their siblings.

Cambodian babies start eating solids at around 6 months old. There is no need for preserved baby food from the jar. Baby food, made fresh everyday, is usually watered down rice porridge boiled in meat broth. Mom grinds up tough meat and veggie by chewing it and then giving it to baby. (Don’t worry, we use a blender.)

Because most Cambodians traditionally eat off the floor, there is no such thing as teaching “table manners” or “being excused”. Once a child is old enough to eat by themselves, they are set free to run around like the chickens and dogs. They only come home when they’re hungry or they just snack from neighbor to neighbor. When we lived in Beng Trabek, we would often see Silas roaming around the neighborhood with his babysitter munching on a carrot from one hand and a cucumber from the other. If there is a finicky kid who doesn’t like to eat, they are often seen being chased around with a spoon.

There is no diaper training in Cambodia because there are no diapers. Babies are left bottomless for the first year or two; in the countryside, even longer. It’s not uncommon to see little kids (and grown men) pee off a balcony, out a window, or on the side of the street. Babies pee and poo pretty much anywhere. If it’s inside, the poop is simply cleaned up. Pee is not considered gross so it’s just wiped up like spilled water.

There is no such thing as “boy” and “girl” clothes for babies. IF a baby has any clothes, it doesn’t matter what color they are wearing. You would not believe how often people ask if Cassia is a boy or girl even when she’s wearing a pink dress with hearts on it. When Silas turned one, a neighbor gave Silas hot pink shorts. They were knitted by hand so we had to have him wear them. We promised Silas we would NEVER take a picture of him in those shorts, EVER!

In some ways, it’s a lot easier to raise kids in Cambodia. Life is just so much simpler. There are no fancy bottle sanitizers, smell proof trash cans, strollers, vibrating bouncers, Baby Einstein…I wonder what Cambodians would think if they visited a Babies R Us. If I told them about baby registry, what would wig them out more, the amount Americans buy for babies or the laser gun that you use to pick out the gifts? (Ok, ok, I confess! I too went trigger happy when I was doing registry for Silas.)

One thing I learned about parenting from Cambodia is “it’s not what you provide for your kids as much as how you nurture them”. I once heard someone ask, “Is it true that Americans make their babies sleep alone in a cage?” If they only knew about times outs, crying it out, playing by yourself…

2007 07 06 Cambodia
Family Comments (4) Permalink

Seven Year Itch?

Can you believe that today is our seventh year anniversary?! I’ve heard that the seventh year of marriage is supposed to be the hardest. I’m not sure why. I’m not claiming that Danny and I have the perfect marriage, but I can honestly say that I am more convinced than ever that I’m the lucky one.

So here’s a top ten list of “Why I’m so lucky to be married to Danny”:

  1. He’s clean (Although he may be too clean. I think that’s why he gets sick a whole lot more often than I do.)
  2. He doesn’t ever complain about my cooking (except once…but he was justified).
  3. He’s a disgustingly good father.
  4. He graduated from MIT yet still has good social skills! (Oh no, your PKT brothers are going to kill me!)
  5. He laughs at my jokes (especially when no one else does).
  6. He’s smart and knows it (but also knows that there are a whole lot of smarter people out there).
  7. He can make me laugh even when I started out grumpy.
  8. He’s just as confused about life and easily bored as I am. (Hence, the reason we come up with new ideas every other day about what we want to do when we grow up.)
  9. He speaks Spanish AND Italian. (Do I need to elaborate?)
  10. He actually seems pretty sincere that he feels lucky to be married to me too!

There you have it! It’s been a wild 7 years =)

2007 07 01 Family Comments (7) Permalink

A Beng Trabek Tragedy

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!

2007 06 18 Cambodia Comments (0) Permalink

Face Off: Reenactment of a True Story

Getting pulled over on a rainy day.

 
Cop – Can I see your driver’s license?

Danny – Sure, here. What’s wrong officer?

Cop – Your lights are on.

Danny – Ahem, ok, sorry. Turns off the lights

Cop – Get out of the car. You need to pay a fine.

Danny – For what?

Cop – Your lights were on. It against the law.

Danny – But it’s cloudy.

Anita – gets out of the car. What’s going on?

Cop – You have to pay a fine. Your lights were on.

Anita –It’s against the law to have your lights on?

Cop – It’s daytime, you’re not suppose to have your lights on during the day.

Anita – laugh. Mr, you must be joking. Why is it against the law to have your lights on?

Cop – It’ll cause an accident.

Anita – No it won’t.

Danny – Ok then, if you want to fine me, take us to the police station and issue me a ticket.

Cop – Oh I can’t, the police station is closed today.

Danny – laugh. The police station is closed?

Cop – Yes, it’s Saturday.

Danny – Well I don’t believe it. The police station is opened all the time. There are thieves everyday.

Cop – No, no, there are no thieves today.

Anita – laugh. Oh, the thieves are resting? They take Saturday off too?

Danny – Hey, those cars, they have their lights on. Why don’t you charge them?

Cop – It’s different, they’re citizens. It’s ok for citizens to have their lights on, but not foreigners. You know, even if George W. Bush were here and he had his lights on, he would get charged too.

Everyone laughs

Cop – Come on, just pay the fine so you can go home and relax. Look it’s raining, your son is going to get sick.

Anita – Ok, just give us a ticket.

Cop – No, no I can’t. We Cambodians are poor. We can’t afford tickets. Please, I’m so poor and my children go to private school.

Anita – laugh. If you’re so poor why do your children go to private school?

Danny – impatient and grumpy. Ok, ok, how much.

Cop – It’s up to you.

Danny – 2000 riel? (~50 cents)

Cop – No, no. More.

Danny – You said it’s up to you.

Cop – Well, enough to take my friends out for coke.

 

AHHH…YOU GOTTA LOVE THIS COUNTRY!!!

2007 05 30 Cambodia Comments (6) Permalink

Having kids wrecked my life! – A Mother’s Day Lament

Why didn’t anyone warn me that having kids would wreck my life? All I heard was, “kids really changes things”. Um… wreak havoc is more like it! I read the books, took the class at the hospital, got advice from other mothers. But nothing prepared me for the chaos that ensues when you have to take this little person home from the hospital that is completely dependent on you; that needs you ALL the time and can only communicate by crying. Worst of all, there is no way you cannot shut it off!

When Silas turned two, things started to feel normal again. But then we had Cassia and the craziness began all over again. Moreover, Silas is now at the stage where he wants to know EVERYTHING that Danny and I are talking about. We cannot have a single conversation without Silas interrupting, “What are you talking about? Who’s that? What does that mean? Why? Mommy, talk to me!” Although we try to encourage Silas’ curiosity and verbal verbosity, it makes it impossible for us to have a decent conversation. We tell Silas, “You know kid, before you were born Mommy and Daddy actually had a relationship”.

Danny and I often reminisce about the pre-kids days. We recall times when we’ve decided on a whim to go to New York City or hiking in New Hampshire; better yet, our travels to places such as Belize, Italy, and Asia. One of our favorites was going to a conference in CA. We decided last minute to drive there from the East Coast visiting friends and national parks along the way and back. Sometimes I think we were just two kids living life together. Those were the days!

Gone are the days when Danny and I can be spontaneous and impulsive. Gone are the days when we can go out or stay up as long as we want. Gone are the days when we can watch all the rated R movies we want. Gone are the days when we can have a decent love life. In other words, gone are the days when we can continue living our self-centered existence. Kids put an end to all that. They forced us to grow up and give up our shenanigans.

So would I ever dream of trading Silas and Cassia in for those pre-kid days? Would I trade in the crazy laughter and fun they bring into my life? Would I trade the absolute joy and awe in watching them grow and develop? Would I trade those moments when I realize they are an absolute gift from God? Are you kidding? My kids’ wrecking my life is the best thing that has ever happen to me!

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!

2007 05 13 Family Comments (5) Permalink

A Bizarre Kinda Place: Introducing Kampong Cham

If you drive about 80 miles northeast from Phnom Penh, you will pass through mainly rice fields and palm trees. Almost 2 ½ hours later you will reach Skoon, a town famous for its fried tarantulas. Then you know you’ve almost arrived at Kampong Cham City. City is a generous term since “downtown” consists of a market and 2 or 3 streets of small shops. Kampong Cham is one of those towns where you can’t do anything sketchy. Otherwise, everybody will know it. After a couple weeks of living here, pretty much everyone already knew Silas’ name. If the kids are not with us, people on motos will slow down and ask, “Where’s your son/daughter?” Sheesh, how is it that everyone knows who we are already?

I use to think there was nothing to do in the capital. Now that we live in this sleepy town, Phnom Penh feels like a metropolis. There is stuff to do here. You could take a boat on the Mekong River. You can watch the fishermen from their boat homes. I suppose you could fish yourself if you’re into it. You could also walk through the rubber plantations, which are actually quite beautiful. There is also hiking at the Brother-Sister Mountain. The hike is really just a short climb up a couple of cement stair cases on the twin hills to the temples located at their peak. Besides that, the most exciting thing our family has done so far is walk to the local gas station where they sell imported ice cream from Thailand. We did that for my birthday, 3 days after we moved here.

Nonetheless, Kampong Cham does have its charm and attracts tourists. Although I wonder what they do once they get here. I think some of them are on Mekong River tours stopping for a bite to eat or sleeping over to catch the early morning boat ride to Steng Treng. Others just want a taste of small town life in Cambodia. I see them at the two western restaurants in town. Mekong Crossing and Lazy Mekong Daze are run by two white guys married to Khmer women and have decided to settle down here. I never thought I would frequent these two places that much; but after 3 years of rice at every meal and Cambodian pop music, I’ve found that I enjoy listening to Van Morrison with a burger and fries.

Spiritually speaking, Kampong Cham is probably the most diverse places in Cambodia. It is named after the Cham people, one of the largest and only Muslim minority groups in Cambodia. Because of the high density of Cham people, Kampong Cham has the most number of Mosques in the country. Throughout the day I can hear them singing their melodic prayers during their call to worship. It’s a whole lot more pleasant then the Buddhist chanting. From our house we can hear Muslim prayers, Christian Hillsongish praise music from the church across the street, the Hindu temple just two doors down, the Wat (Buddhist temple) behind the house, the InnerCHANGE staff and clients downstairs singing traditional Khmer songs to Christian lyrics, the Khmer plinka-plinka funeral music, the off-key karaoke from the restaurants and neighbors, the pony bells jingling down the street and the wild monkeys.

There are days when I wonder, “How did I end up in such a bizarre, I mean enchanting, place?”

Pictures of Kampong Cham

28 Days - photo journal by Hayden Sewall (InnerCHANGE teammate)

2007 05 05 Cambodia Comments (0) Permalink

Kep

[Originally written on March 9, 2006]

Ever since moving to Phnom Penh I have been grumbling non-stop about how ugly this country is. A city once full of trees is now mainly covered by dirt roads and concrete. Waking up, looking out the window at a trash laden ally has put a damper on my day, everyday, for the last year and a half. The constant sound pollution of construction, motos, and worst of all horrible Karaoke music has made silence and solitude impossible.  It’s been one and a half years of struggle wondering if I would ever come to enjoy this place, wondering if I would ever find anything pleasant in a country raped of beauty.

A few months ago, Ben and Sharon came back from a trip to Kep urging us to go with them sometime this year. They claimed that it was a beautiful place. I had my doubts. Why would I want to go to this “has been” beachside town that now has nothing including no electricity? However, they convinced us and this past weekend Danny, Silas and I found ourselves going to Kep with our friends. Surprisingly, it was by far the most beautiful place I have been to in Cambodia. Never before have I seen the ocean abutting mountains and lush forest.   In the morning, the still, blue ocean water against the deep green forest was surrounded by white mist and brilliant blue sky. It was simply breathtaking. For the first time since we’ve moved to Cambodia I finally believed, Cambodia is beautiful!

This formerly popular beachside town consists of one paved road which runs along the beach. During the French colonial period, this road was lined with magnificent vacation homes once occupied by privileged Khmer families. But because the area is surrounded by dense forest and mountains, it became a Khmer Rouge strong hold in the 1970’s. The owners of these homes either fled or were killed. The abandoned villas are now destroyed, burnt-out concrete shells. They seem completely neglected; but at a second glance one will realize that they are currently occupied by poor, squatter families who have no where else to camp out. These days there isn’t much going on in Kep other than fishing.

This sight is rather eerie to say the least. It caused me to ponder on Jerusalem during the Babylonian exile when all the rich and educated were either killed or brought into captivity; leaving the poor behind to fend for themselves. It’s been about 25 years since the Khmer Rouge had control over this area and it is just starting to feel like it’s recovering.

pictures of our weekend in Kep.

2007 05 02 Cambodia Comments (3) Permalink