After settling into a routine after my first week the two new volunteers arrive on my first Sunday here in town.
Gina is from New Zealand, age 57, and has been in Cambodia for many months - before this she was teaching English at a program in Phnom Penh. She will be here 3 months and after that will move on and maybe volunteer somewhere else in Cambodia.
Jo is from England but now lives in Wales and she is 57 years old. She is going to be volunteering for 3 weeks then will go to Sihonoukville (a beach town on the Western coast of Cambodia) for a week before heading home. Both of them have been to Cambodia before so they know what to expect to some extent.
Gina is a vegetarian which presents a bit of trouble at many restaurants since Cambodians eat virtually everything. If it grows or moves they will eat it - literally. They eat spiders, ants, crickets, worms, jungle roots, rats, everything!!! So the concept of vegetarians is very odd to them. Often they have a rice dish or a tofu alternative but many places don't or we can't speak to them to explain the situation. Jo on the other hand likes to eat at the same few places over and over. While some of the tourist places have a nice atmosphere and decent food I want to explore new places and try new foods.
With their arrival our boarding school classes greatly increase in size. On their second night here - the number of students grows from 17 to 30! We divide up the class into three parts: Gina takes the most experienced students - the ones who can have decent conversations, I take the intermediate students - those with a decent vocabulary but need practice speaking, and Jo takes the beginners - some can only saw hello.
We have different schedules during the day. They assist the English teachers at the local high school during the week while I have two classes at the radio station and tutor the staff at Bunong Place. We always have lunch at BP at 1130am and discuss our classes and plans for the day.
We also meet at our guesthouse (we are all staying at the same guesthouse) at 530pm and then make the 20 minute walk to the boarding school down that long dusty road every weeknight. After class we walk back along that same dusty road and then decide where to eat dinner. After two weeks we have eaten at perhaps 7 places in town for dinner (I have been to around 10-11 myself, again venturing out on my own sometimes) but often go to Jo's favorite place, the Greenhouse Café. It is two doors up from our guesthouse and the service is very good and the food excellent. They have both a Cambodian menu and a Western menu - but again I like to try new things. After 3 weeks in Cambodia I have tried lots of different things and have yet to run into any stomach problems. Knock on wood.
With Gina and Jo arriving I will now start going trekking - hopefully they are willing to join me!
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Mimong the Monkey
Bill has a pet monkey named Mimong (pronounced May Mong). He said about 4 years ago he was visiting a local Bunong village and a mother monkey had been killed. There was one baby - big enough that it fit in the palm of your hand. The villagers didn't know what to do with it so Bill offered to take it and try to keep it alive. He said he fed it berries and after a few weeks it started to eat other types of fruits. Slowly, Mimong grew. Bill says Mimong sleeps with him. He also puts a loincloth on him at night to prevent accidents.
This is the most spoiled monkey ever - well maybe second most after Bubbles of Michael Jackson fame... Mimong is probably about 1.5 - 2 feet tall and maybe weighs 20 pounds. Bill has him tied to a tree where he has about 15 feet of chain to wander around on. Bill says if he is free he chases after the children and chickens. Bill gives him a variety of fruit all day long: bananas, oranges, longans, nuts, and tomatoes to name a few snacks. He also has a woman who delivers blueberries daily and it seems Mimong is her best customer. The blueberries are about the size of apple seeds and Bill buys a cup full of these daily for Mimong (cost is 25 cents). I have also watched Mimong eat a popsicle which is something I hope to get a video of - holding it in his little hands as he enjoys the ice cream is very amusing.
Mimong's name comes from the village where Bill found him: the village of Mimong. Often they just call him Mong.
This is the most spoiled monkey ever - well maybe second most after Bubbles of Michael Jackson fame... Mimong is probably about 1.5 - 2 feet tall and maybe weighs 20 pounds. Bill has him tied to a tree where he has about 15 feet of chain to wander around on. Bill says if he is free he chases after the children and chickens. Bill gives him a variety of fruit all day long: bananas, oranges, longans, nuts, and tomatoes to name a few snacks. He also has a woman who delivers blueberries daily and it seems Mimong is her best customer. The blueberries are about the size of apple seeds and Bill buys a cup full of these daily for Mimong (cost is 25 cents). I have also watched Mimong eat a popsicle which is something I hope to get a video of - holding it in his little hands as he enjoys the ice cream is very amusing.
Mimong's name comes from the village where Bill found him: the village of Mimong. Often they just call him Mong.
It's a small town...
On the first few nights I am here there are several Westerners playing pool at my guesthouse - there is a room off the bar that has a pool table. This seems to be the only place in town that has a pool table - not including the few pool halls that locals go to on the edge of town. The owner of my guesthouse, Calem, who is from Tasmania (making him an Australian citizen), loves pool and invites me to play. I join him and Tim, an English guy who is traveling around southeast Asia for a few months and also Brian, who is Irish but has been living in Cambodia for a few years. As we get talking Brian tells me how he teaches English at the Andy school - a small private school in town that teaches kids English. He invites me to come visit a class sometime. Pool is not my game and these guys seem to play a lot - so needless to say - I lose. But while drinking beers at $ 1 each - it helps to pass the time. For music, Calem has his laptop on the bar and has it hooked into the speakers. He then goes on YouTube to pick songs - thus he has an endless supply of music. This town is small, so usually by 9pm the restaurant closes - but often a few of us play pool until 10 or 11pm, or until Calem's Cambodian wife comes and insists he close and go to bed.
The next morning after breakfast I head to my morning class at the radio station. I teach 3 people English there every weekday from 9 - 10am. Two of the students, Heng and Sokna (both women), work at the radio station. It seems to be more of a news station than music - they only play a few hours of music a day but have interviews with villagers, politicians, report the news, etc. The want to improve their English so they can do interviews in the future in English. Another student, Rany (a man) is a bit older and seems to be someone's assistant. His English isn't as good as the girls but he takes notes and is almost always there. The girls actually have a large vocabulary and just need to practice speaking English, while Rany needs to build his vocabulary first.
On the way to class, I get to an intersection and there is a yellow car stuck in the middle. There are no stop signs or traffic lights here in Sen Monorom - so traffic just weaves in and out of the intersections. Obviously this car could be a major road block. A guy jumps out of the car and starts pushing the car, while a guy inside steers. I join the guy pushing the car and we get it out of the intersection quickly. The guy looks puzzled and thanks me.
Later after my radio class I decide to stop by and talk with Bill at Bunong Place. When I walk in Bill is talking in the office with Brian and two Cambodian men. They smile as I walk in and thank me. I have no idea who they are. They said I was the one who helped them with their car this morning. It is Andy and one of his teachers. When I ask what was wrong with the car they tell me it was simply out of gas. Here in Cambodia people never fill up their gas tanks - they simply buy a liter of gas at a time. People actually sells liters of gas on the side of the road in glass Coca Cola bottles. Gas costs about 4800 riel/liter ( I think that would be about $5 - 6/gallon). Seems Andy wants to talk to Bill about his school and find out about the Globalteer program I am volunteering with.
Over the next few weeks I will often meet people all of town and they recognize me from somewhere else. Seems with only about 15 - 20 Westerners (Barang is the slang they call us - seems to translate as Whites living among us - think of it as Gringos in Mexico) who are here long term. Often as I walk around time I will have someone yell "teacher" as they whiz by on a moto. I am easy to identify in my clothes, usually with my backpack and a scarf. Identifying my students whizzing by isn't nearly so easy. Either way I realize this is a small town.
The next morning after breakfast I head to my morning class at the radio station. I teach 3 people English there every weekday from 9 - 10am. Two of the students, Heng and Sokna (both women), work at the radio station. It seems to be more of a news station than music - they only play a few hours of music a day but have interviews with villagers, politicians, report the news, etc. The want to improve their English so they can do interviews in the future in English. Another student, Rany (a man) is a bit older and seems to be someone's assistant. His English isn't as good as the girls but he takes notes and is almost always there. The girls actually have a large vocabulary and just need to practice speaking English, while Rany needs to build his vocabulary first.
On the way to class, I get to an intersection and there is a yellow car stuck in the middle. There are no stop signs or traffic lights here in Sen Monorom - so traffic just weaves in and out of the intersections. Obviously this car could be a major road block. A guy jumps out of the car and starts pushing the car, while a guy inside steers. I join the guy pushing the car and we get it out of the intersection quickly. The guy looks puzzled and thanks me.
Later after my radio class I decide to stop by and talk with Bill at Bunong Place. When I walk in Bill is talking in the office with Brian and two Cambodian men. They smile as I walk in and thank me. I have no idea who they are. They said I was the one who helped them with their car this morning. It is Andy and one of his teachers. When I ask what was wrong with the car they tell me it was simply out of gas. Here in Cambodia people never fill up their gas tanks - they simply buy a liter of gas at a time. People actually sells liters of gas on the side of the road in glass Coca Cola bottles. Gas costs about 4800 riel/liter ( I think that would be about $5 - 6/gallon). Seems Andy wants to talk to Bill about his school and find out about the Globalteer program I am volunteering with.
Over the next few weeks I will often meet people all of town and they recognize me from somewhere else. Seems with only about 15 - 20 Westerners (Barang is the slang they call us - seems to translate as Whites living among us - think of it as Gringos in Mexico) who are here long term. Often as I walk around time I will have someone yell "teacher" as they whiz by on a moto. I am easy to identify in my clothes, usually with my backpack and a scarf. Identifying my students whizzing by isn't nearly so easy. Either way I realize this is a small town.
Monday, March 24, 2014
My first class
So my second day in Sen Monorom and I wake up early - well maybe being woken up is more like it. Around 330am a few blind roosters must have thought they saw the sun rising then around 5am it sounded like all of the dogs on the street were singing in unison. Dawn seems to be around 6am, and dusk happens around 630pm or so. Seems many people around here go bed early - the lack of electricity for many people means there is little to do at night - other than read or socialize by campfire or candlelight. Many of the guesthouses and restaurants have generators so at least we have electricity at night. I usually wake up by 6am or so. My room is right above the kitchen of the restaurant. Whenever a meal is ready the cooks ring a bell so the waitress knows to come to the kitchen and pick it up. The restaurant opens at 6am for breakfast so by 615 or 620am that little bell is ringing pretty constantly.
I have breakfast, noodle soup with vegetables and roam around the market and town to see what there is to do in the mornings. I will come to find out there is pretty much the same thing to do every day- and I mean every day. Most shopkeepers and people with stalls in the market are open 7 days a week - there are no weekends for most Cambodians. A few of the Cham people (Muslims) and some of the Khmer people who have become Christians will take a day off for religious reasons but the majority work every day. Many of the shops are actually attached to their houses or they sell things right out of their living rooms (often they only have two rooms to the entire house so living room may be a stretch to say). I enjoy the market and seeing all of the fresh fruits and veggies - many of which I can't identify - and also the large selection of meats and seafood. Seems with the new good road that much seafood is shipped from the opposite side of the country daily. Everyone shops daily since almost nobody has a fridge - instead an ice truck comes by daily to deliver blocks of ice to homes and businesses. The market vendors constantly chatter away, often quietly - Sochea told me they are bragging about how good their produce is, what good prices they have, etc - and often will even comment if you bought from that vendor yesterday and should try their goods today because they are better. Hopefully I will be able to understand a little of the language before I leave.
I go to the Bunong Place around 10am to work with the staff on their English. Sochea has taught himself English and is quite good. He always has questions and wants to know the tenses of verbs and how to write out individual words. Soheap speaks very little but she understands quite a bit. We practice some basic vocabulary until lunch.
At lunchtime, Bean (Bien) arrives. She is a 19 year old Bunong girl who hopes to continue on to university in Phnom Penh after she graduates this year from high school, she is also Soheap's younger sister. She is always smiling and desperately wants to practice English so she will have a better chance to find some work in Phnom Penh while attending university. She wants to be a doctor but knows her family can't afford to send her to university for that long so she is hoping to become a nurse. Bean tells me she will pick me up at my guesthouse at 530pm tonight and give me a ride to the school for class. It is suppose to be a 15 - 20 minute walk but I don't know where it is so a ride would be good. I spend the rest of the afternoon talking with Bill and wandering around the side streets of town. The Khmer language looks something like Arabic - lots of curvy flowing script with nothing I can identify- so if I see an interesting shop or a crowd of people somewhere I wander in for a look. I have been into barbershops and hairdressers, several restaurants and clothing stores, a bakery, a bookstore (more of stationary supply store), and a medical clinic by mistake (I wanted to see what the crowd was there for - guess they were there for an appointment - the entire family - maybe 12 people). People just nod and smile at me and when I am lost or somewhere I shouldn't be a simple bow with my hands pressed together seems to make everything ok. Also when in doubt smile. Unlike at home, everyone smiles. If I nod or smile to someone I always get either a nod or smile back and often from teenagers and younger I get a "hello".
At 530pm I am out in front of my guesthouse and Bean pulls up. I jump on the back of the moto (these are really just mopeds - maybe 100 - 150cc size engines) and we head off. The traffic rules are simple - the bigger vehicle has the right of way. There are no stop signs or traffic lights in town and people mostly drive on the right hand side of the road - although that doesn't always happen. They also beep their horns whenever they are going to pass someone on the left so the driver can move over and also not make any sudden turns that would result in their death!
The school is located about half a mile away. You take my street to the top and at the rotary (it has a giant statue of some cows in it) turn right. After about 50 yards the pavement stops and it becomes a dirt road. Dirt doesn't begin to explain it - try "the dustiest road I have ever seen". It is a reddish/orange dust that blows around town and gets on everything. Everyday my clothes are covered by this silt and there is no escaping it. Even in my guest room with the door closed it blows in under my door. People are always sweeping the dust out of their houses and many people who have cars bring them to the local carwashes a few times a week (the carwash is really a guy or two with a hose in a garage). My aim is to figure out how all of the girls and women always look so nice and have clean clothes as they ride on the back of these motos while I walk to class and am covered is dust daily.
The school is down a street about a quarter mile off the dusty road. I walk past a large orphanage and a few homes and find it at the end of the road. There is a cluster of buildings with classrooms on the right and the dorms on the left. The dorms are for the students who live to far from their villages to return nightly. There are only a few high schools in the entire province - most villages only have a primary school and if the students want to continue on to high school they can live in the dorms. These dorms bring tears to my eyes. They are the most basic things I have ever seen.
There are about 6 large rooms, each have beds and some have bunk beds. Girls sleep in two of the rooms and boys in the other rooms. Some of the rooms have as many as 15 kids staying in them. There appears to be no adults around to monitor things - but I am told there is a woman who is the caretaker for the dorms and school. The students also have a simple room they use as a kitchen/dining area - they must cook all of their own food. Actually for that matter they must also buy their own food. Then their is an outhouse and another small building I am told where they shower. They don't have running water - they have a well that they must drop the bucket into and then pull it up with a rope for all water they need. While I was there I watched a girl pull up a bucket of water and it was a dirty brown color. They must wash all of their own clothes as well - again done with this brown water. They also don't have electricity at the dorms - so there isn't much studying done at night at the dorms. Amazingly these kids are pretty much self sufficient and want to get an education - if they didn't they could simply stop going to school and work on the family farm, try to find a job in town, or for many of the girls - get married and have children. School is available but for many families it costs to much to feed a family member who is away at school and not working to support the family at a job or help on the farm or in the field.
We head over to the class. I walk into a very basic classroom. There is a blackboard and a dry erase board (or white board as they call it) at the front of the room. There is also a desk for the teacher to sit at - and this is all on a little stage or platform of maybe a foot high. There are then 3 rows of desks facing the white board. The desks are basic structures made of wood and have the benches attached to them. The room has plenty of windows, two overhead lights and two fans (which I will learn do not work in this room - of course - my classroom). Class starts at 6pm and by 605pm the class if full of students - maybe 18 or so. They range in age from 14 - 26 (the 26 year old is not a student but someone who wants to learn English). There are 12 girls and 6 boys. They all talk and when I stand up they all get quiet. I say hello and introduce myself as "teacher Richard". I will learn that few students will ever call me by name, instead they simply call me teacher or "cher" they love to shorten words. I point out where I came from on the map, USA near New York, and tell them I will be here for 3 months. After that I thank them.
Bean asks what I am going to teach them today. What? Nobody gave me a lesson plan or told me what they are studying. I will find out the next day that it is simply a conversational class to practice English - the students aren't graded - they come voluntarily whenever they wish. Great, what to do with the next 45 minutes. I scramble for ideas of how to fill the time. I ask each student their name, age and what they want to do after they graduate high school. Each person says their name (which I butcher each time repeating them), tell me their age and what they hope to do for a career. I get a lawyer, doctor, a few nurses, a tour guide, hairdresser, and then many teachers. I actually think the first girl who said teacher than the next younger girls didn't know so they said the same thing. The levels of English range from decent to non-existent. Bean often must translate some of the answers for me or explain what I am asking the class.
Once I am done it's only 640pm - dang! I ask if there are any questions. A few people raise their hands and ask my age, if I am married, if I have children, do I live with my parents, and how much it cost to come to Cambodia. Outside of the prices of things I answer all questions. When the students will ask me how much things cost at home (a pair of jeans, my tablet computer, my backpack, etc.) I always tell them I don't know because the items were gifts or I bought it long ago and forgot. The mere thought of telling them it cost $1400 for a roundtrip ticket to Cambodia would be hard for them to grasp. These are some of the poorest people of Cambodian society - many people in this area only make $ 2 - 5/day. So how do I explain thousands of dollars?
After answering the questions I still have 10 minutes. I start asking them if they know body parts: eyes, ears, nose, arms, etc. Some answer and point to the part of the body others just give me a blank stare. I write each part I say on the board and they copy it down. Bean translates to the students who don't know what I am saying. 7pm mercifully comes and I am free. Bean tells me I did a good job.
We lock up the classroom and turn out the lights. She then tells me she will give me a ride home on her moto.
The ride home on the moto is great since there are no street lights and many people drive their motos at night without using the headlights. The dust is so bad that I constantly breathe it in. Within a few days I have bought a scarf and always cover my nose and mouth whenever I ride a moto to cut down on the dust. I will probably have lungs like a smoker after this trip - at least until the rains come and turn the dust into mud!
After Bean drops me off I put my backpack in my room and head downstairs for dinner. All Cambodian meals have rice and something... Breakfast, lunch and dinner is rice and something. I can order off the Western menu but when in Cambodia eat like they do. Tonight it's rice with pork and tomatoes -and it's pretty good.
I join a few other Westerners for a game of pool and then head to my room by 9pm. I try to wash the reddish dirt off my feet then get ready for bed. I got to think up some type of lesson plans for these students or 6 - 7pm nightly could become the longest hour of my life!!!!!
I have breakfast, noodle soup with vegetables and roam around the market and town to see what there is to do in the mornings. I will come to find out there is pretty much the same thing to do every day- and I mean every day. Most shopkeepers and people with stalls in the market are open 7 days a week - there are no weekends for most Cambodians. A few of the Cham people (Muslims) and some of the Khmer people who have become Christians will take a day off for religious reasons but the majority work every day. Many of the shops are actually attached to their houses or they sell things right out of their living rooms (often they only have two rooms to the entire house so living room may be a stretch to say). I enjoy the market and seeing all of the fresh fruits and veggies - many of which I can't identify - and also the large selection of meats and seafood. Seems with the new good road that much seafood is shipped from the opposite side of the country daily. Everyone shops daily since almost nobody has a fridge - instead an ice truck comes by daily to deliver blocks of ice to homes and businesses. The market vendors constantly chatter away, often quietly - Sochea told me they are bragging about how good their produce is, what good prices they have, etc - and often will even comment if you bought from that vendor yesterday and should try their goods today because they are better. Hopefully I will be able to understand a little of the language before I leave.
I go to the Bunong Place around 10am to work with the staff on their English. Sochea has taught himself English and is quite good. He always has questions and wants to know the tenses of verbs and how to write out individual words. Soheap speaks very little but she understands quite a bit. We practice some basic vocabulary until lunch.
At lunchtime, Bean (Bien) arrives. She is a 19 year old Bunong girl who hopes to continue on to university in Phnom Penh after she graduates this year from high school, she is also Soheap's younger sister. She is always smiling and desperately wants to practice English so she will have a better chance to find some work in Phnom Penh while attending university. She wants to be a doctor but knows her family can't afford to send her to university for that long so she is hoping to become a nurse. Bean tells me she will pick me up at my guesthouse at 530pm tonight and give me a ride to the school for class. It is suppose to be a 15 - 20 minute walk but I don't know where it is so a ride would be good. I spend the rest of the afternoon talking with Bill and wandering around the side streets of town. The Khmer language looks something like Arabic - lots of curvy flowing script with nothing I can identify- so if I see an interesting shop or a crowd of people somewhere I wander in for a look. I have been into barbershops and hairdressers, several restaurants and clothing stores, a bakery, a bookstore (more of stationary supply store), and a medical clinic by mistake (I wanted to see what the crowd was there for - guess they were there for an appointment - the entire family - maybe 12 people). People just nod and smile at me and when I am lost or somewhere I shouldn't be a simple bow with my hands pressed together seems to make everything ok. Also when in doubt smile. Unlike at home, everyone smiles. If I nod or smile to someone I always get either a nod or smile back and often from teenagers and younger I get a "hello".
At 530pm I am out in front of my guesthouse and Bean pulls up. I jump on the back of the moto (these are really just mopeds - maybe 100 - 150cc size engines) and we head off. The traffic rules are simple - the bigger vehicle has the right of way. There are no stop signs or traffic lights in town and people mostly drive on the right hand side of the road - although that doesn't always happen. They also beep their horns whenever they are going to pass someone on the left so the driver can move over and also not make any sudden turns that would result in their death!
The school is located about half a mile away. You take my street to the top and at the rotary (it has a giant statue of some cows in it) turn right. After about 50 yards the pavement stops and it becomes a dirt road. Dirt doesn't begin to explain it - try "the dustiest road I have ever seen". It is a reddish/orange dust that blows around town and gets on everything. Everyday my clothes are covered by this silt and there is no escaping it. Even in my guest room with the door closed it blows in under my door. People are always sweeping the dust out of their houses and many people who have cars bring them to the local carwashes a few times a week (the carwash is really a guy or two with a hose in a garage). My aim is to figure out how all of the girls and women always look so nice and have clean clothes as they ride on the back of these motos while I walk to class and am covered is dust daily.
The school is down a street about a quarter mile off the dusty road. I walk past a large orphanage and a few homes and find it at the end of the road. There is a cluster of buildings with classrooms on the right and the dorms on the left. The dorms are for the students who live to far from their villages to return nightly. There are only a few high schools in the entire province - most villages only have a primary school and if the students want to continue on to high school they can live in the dorms. These dorms bring tears to my eyes. They are the most basic things I have ever seen.
There are about 6 large rooms, each have beds and some have bunk beds. Girls sleep in two of the rooms and boys in the other rooms. Some of the rooms have as many as 15 kids staying in them. There appears to be no adults around to monitor things - but I am told there is a woman who is the caretaker for the dorms and school. The students also have a simple room they use as a kitchen/dining area - they must cook all of their own food. Actually for that matter they must also buy their own food. Then their is an outhouse and another small building I am told where they shower. They don't have running water - they have a well that they must drop the bucket into and then pull it up with a rope for all water they need. While I was there I watched a girl pull up a bucket of water and it was a dirty brown color. They must wash all of their own clothes as well - again done with this brown water. They also don't have electricity at the dorms - so there isn't much studying done at night at the dorms. Amazingly these kids are pretty much self sufficient and want to get an education - if they didn't they could simply stop going to school and work on the family farm, try to find a job in town, or for many of the girls - get married and have children. School is available but for many families it costs to much to feed a family member who is away at school and not working to support the family at a job or help on the farm or in the field.
We head over to the class. I walk into a very basic classroom. There is a blackboard and a dry erase board (or white board as they call it) at the front of the room. There is also a desk for the teacher to sit at - and this is all on a little stage or platform of maybe a foot high. There are then 3 rows of desks facing the white board. The desks are basic structures made of wood and have the benches attached to them. The room has plenty of windows, two overhead lights and two fans (which I will learn do not work in this room - of course - my classroom). Class starts at 6pm and by 605pm the class if full of students - maybe 18 or so. They range in age from 14 - 26 (the 26 year old is not a student but someone who wants to learn English). There are 12 girls and 6 boys. They all talk and when I stand up they all get quiet. I say hello and introduce myself as "teacher Richard". I will learn that few students will ever call me by name, instead they simply call me teacher or "cher" they love to shorten words. I point out where I came from on the map, USA near New York, and tell them I will be here for 3 months. After that I thank them.
Bean asks what I am going to teach them today. What? Nobody gave me a lesson plan or told me what they are studying. I will find out the next day that it is simply a conversational class to practice English - the students aren't graded - they come voluntarily whenever they wish. Great, what to do with the next 45 minutes. I scramble for ideas of how to fill the time. I ask each student their name, age and what they want to do after they graduate high school. Each person says their name (which I butcher each time repeating them), tell me their age and what they hope to do for a career. I get a lawyer, doctor, a few nurses, a tour guide, hairdresser, and then many teachers. I actually think the first girl who said teacher than the next younger girls didn't know so they said the same thing. The levels of English range from decent to non-existent. Bean often must translate some of the answers for me or explain what I am asking the class.
Once I am done it's only 640pm - dang! I ask if there are any questions. A few people raise their hands and ask my age, if I am married, if I have children, do I live with my parents, and how much it cost to come to Cambodia. Outside of the prices of things I answer all questions. When the students will ask me how much things cost at home (a pair of jeans, my tablet computer, my backpack, etc.) I always tell them I don't know because the items were gifts or I bought it long ago and forgot. The mere thought of telling them it cost $1400 for a roundtrip ticket to Cambodia would be hard for them to grasp. These are some of the poorest people of Cambodian society - many people in this area only make $ 2 - 5/day. So how do I explain thousands of dollars?
After answering the questions I still have 10 minutes. I start asking them if they know body parts: eyes, ears, nose, arms, etc. Some answer and point to the part of the body others just give me a blank stare. I write each part I say on the board and they copy it down. Bean translates to the students who don't know what I am saying. 7pm mercifully comes and I am free. Bean tells me I did a good job.
We lock up the classroom and turn out the lights. She then tells me she will give me a ride home on her moto.
The ride home on the moto is great since there are no street lights and many people drive their motos at night without using the headlights. The dust is so bad that I constantly breathe it in. Within a few days I have bought a scarf and always cover my nose and mouth whenever I ride a moto to cut down on the dust. I will probably have lungs like a smoker after this trip - at least until the rains come and turn the dust into mud!
After Bean drops me off I put my backpack in my room and head downstairs for dinner. All Cambodian meals have rice and something... Breakfast, lunch and dinner is rice and something. I can order off the Western menu but when in Cambodia eat like they do. Tonight it's rice with pork and tomatoes -and it's pretty good.
I join a few other Westerners for a game of pool and then head to my room by 9pm. I try to wash the reddish dirt off my feet then get ready for bed. I got to think up some type of lesson plans for these students or 6 - 7pm nightly could become the longest hour of my life!!!!!
Friday, March 14, 2014
Sen Monorom
I awake at 6am and pack my stuff and head downstairs by 630am. I eat breakfast (a large bowl of noodle soup with veggies, meat, and greens) and at 7am go to the front step to wait for Bunlee. 705am, 710am, 715 and still no Bunlee. At 718am a tuk-tuk (a small vehicle used to travel around town - they sound like they have a lawn mower engine powering them) pulls up with an older man driving. He mumbles something at me and I shrug then he goes to the reception desk. The receptionist points to me and he comes over and says "Sen Monorom?" I nod and he says he will bring me to the bus stop. Where the heck is Bunlee?
About 8 minutes later we arrive along the side of a busy road. The gentleman tells me my guide called him and asked him to bring me to the bus stop. He waits with me, actually has to flag down the van (not a bus as I had hoped - the van is long and can hold many people) This is the Mondulkiri Express (Mondulkiri is the province I will be staying in). He gives me his business card and says he will give me a tour of the city when I return if I want. The van is almost full - a driver and assistant in the passenger's seat, 3 French girls, an old European guy who looks like a hippie from the 1960's, and 3 Khmers (2 men and the woman who gets on the van with me at this stop). The cost of this express van is $ 10.
We drive for hours on the new, good road. The Cambodians all say that because it is paved but it is the roughest paved road I have ever been on.The road was funded by the Chinese and it goes from Phnom Penh to Sen Monorom and it takes about 5 hours. The main reason they funded it was so there is easier access to the timber, metals, and other natural resources in the province. Before the new good road it took about 12 hours on a dirt road and possibly two days during the rainy season.
I see Bill as we pull in. He is the supervisor of Globalteer's Bunong Project here in Sen Monorom. He is about 65 years old and is originally from Indiana. He has lived in Cambodia for 20 years and the last 7 years here in Sen Monorom. With Bill is Suchea (pronounced Sue-chia , like the famous chia pets on TV), a Bunong man (pronounced Pnong) who is 30 years old and is Bill's head tour guide.
They take me to my guesthouse a few doors down from the bus stop. My guesthouse, the Sovannkiri, has 8 rooms - 4 on the first floor and 4 on the second floor (second floor has hot water). I am located on the second floor! They also have a restaurant that serves both Cambodian food as well as western food, a small bar and a pool table. After I drop off my stuff I go downstairs to meet up with Bill and Suchea.
They give me a quick tour of the town. My guesthouse is close to the center of town and 75% of the way up the large hill the town is build on. We walk around the market and down the main street. The market is filled with booths and stalls selling tools, clothes, household goods, produce, meats, etc - half of the fruits and many vegetables I can't identify. There is also a section that has little counters where people eat at - a person behind the counter cooks up your meal right in front of you.
They then bring me to Bunong Place, the headquarters for my project. It's a 3 minute walk from my guesthouse. It is a 4 room building with the rooms lined up one after the next. Bill lives in the first room. The next room is the office and gift shop. The third room is where Bill's two adopted Cambodian daughters live. MaryKay is 10 years old and Michelle is 5 (she will turn 6 later in the week I arrive). The last room is the kitchen and dining area.
I sit down with Bill and discuss the project and get some background about the area and the classes. Bill introduces me to Sopheap (pronounced So-peep). She is the office manager, she is Bunong and is 28 years old. The Bunong Place is an organization that sells local Bunong crafts: scarves, skirts, blankets, baskets, knives, change purses and small bags, bracelets, necklaces, etc. All of the items are made in local villages by Bunong people. For scarves they buy it from the villagers for $ 4 each and sell them for $ 5. If someone goes on a village visit with our group and wants to buy a scarf in the village then the price is $ 5 and all of the money goes directly to the villager. Bunong Place also offers tours of local villages, trips to local waterfalls, and treks into the jungle to see native plants and animals.
After several hours at Bunong Place (I will often refer to it as BP - please don't confuse with PP which is Phnom Penh, the capital of the country) I head back to the guesthouse and have some dinner of rice with veggies and pork and go to bed around 9pm. Not that early since this town pretty much shuts down around 10pm. I am finally at Sen Monorom, this will be my home base for the next 3 months!
About 8 minutes later we arrive along the side of a busy road. The gentleman tells me my guide called him and asked him to bring me to the bus stop. He waits with me, actually has to flag down the van (not a bus as I had hoped - the van is long and can hold many people) This is the Mondulkiri Express (Mondulkiri is the province I will be staying in). He gives me his business card and says he will give me a tour of the city when I return if I want. The van is almost full - a driver and assistant in the passenger's seat, 3 French girls, an old European guy who looks like a hippie from the 1960's, and 3 Khmers (2 men and the woman who gets on the van with me at this stop). The cost of this express van is $ 10.
We drive for hours on the new, good road. The Cambodians all say that because it is paved but it is the roughest paved road I have ever been on.The road was funded by the Chinese and it goes from Phnom Penh to Sen Monorom and it takes about 5 hours. The main reason they funded it was so there is easier access to the timber, metals, and other natural resources in the province. Before the new good road it took about 12 hours on a dirt road and possibly two days during the rainy season.
I see Bill as we pull in. He is the supervisor of Globalteer's Bunong Project here in Sen Monorom. He is about 65 years old and is originally from Indiana. He has lived in Cambodia for 20 years and the last 7 years here in Sen Monorom. With Bill is Suchea (pronounced Sue-chia , like the famous chia pets on TV), a Bunong man (pronounced Pnong) who is 30 years old and is Bill's head tour guide.
They take me to my guesthouse a few doors down from the bus stop. My guesthouse, the Sovannkiri, has 8 rooms - 4 on the first floor and 4 on the second floor (second floor has hot water). I am located on the second floor! They also have a restaurant that serves both Cambodian food as well as western food, a small bar and a pool table. After I drop off my stuff I go downstairs to meet up with Bill and Suchea.
They give me a quick tour of the town. My guesthouse is close to the center of town and 75% of the way up the large hill the town is build on. We walk around the market and down the main street. The market is filled with booths and stalls selling tools, clothes, household goods, produce, meats, etc - half of the fruits and many vegetables I can't identify. There is also a section that has little counters where people eat at - a person behind the counter cooks up your meal right in front of you.
They then bring me to Bunong Place, the headquarters for my project. It's a 3 minute walk from my guesthouse. It is a 4 room building with the rooms lined up one after the next. Bill lives in the first room. The next room is the office and gift shop. The third room is where Bill's two adopted Cambodian daughters live. MaryKay is 10 years old and Michelle is 5 (she will turn 6 later in the week I arrive). The last room is the kitchen and dining area.
I sit down with Bill and discuss the project and get some background about the area and the classes. Bill introduces me to Sopheap (pronounced So-peep). She is the office manager, she is Bunong and is 28 years old. The Bunong Place is an organization that sells local Bunong crafts: scarves, skirts, blankets, baskets, knives, change purses and small bags, bracelets, necklaces, etc. All of the items are made in local villages by Bunong people. For scarves they buy it from the villagers for $ 4 each and sell them for $ 5. If someone goes on a village visit with our group and wants to buy a scarf in the village then the price is $ 5 and all of the money goes directly to the villager. Bunong Place also offers tours of local villages, trips to local waterfalls, and treks into the jungle to see native plants and animals.
After several hours at Bunong Place (I will often refer to it as BP - please don't confuse with PP which is Phnom Penh, the capital of the country) I head back to the guesthouse and have some dinner of rice with veggies and pork and go to bed around 9pm. Not that early since this town pretty much shuts down around 10pm. I am finally at Sen Monorom, this will be my home base for the next 3 months!
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
My schedule has been very hectic the past few days. Two new volunteers, Gina from New Zealand, and Jo from England arrived Sunday afternoon. Since then we have been getting many requests to teach additional classes. I will be starting a second class at the local radio stations starting tomorrow. We also had ten new students show up to the boarding school last night - they have no English to speak of and we took them in.
This morning we visited the local high school and met with some English teachers there. We will start assisting them next week with there classes a few days per week. Our boss, Bill, is also working with the local orphanage about having us possibly teach English to some of the children there as well.
So with things so up in the air this past several days, I have been unable to catch up on my log. I will do my best to catch up by the weekend and hope that once caught up I can add new posts 2 - 3 times per week. I am also hoping if someone here can help me, I can figure out how to attach photos as well.
Please bear with me.
Thanks.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Phnom Penh - Day # 2
I slept for 12 hours, wow!! Today I head to the riverfront to explore. Its a long walk although I am not heading in any particular direction - whenever I something cool I wander over to see it. The waterfront looks like a big ugly canal, both sides are super high and there is nothing along the banks. Maybe it floods during the rainy season. There are many clubs, cafes and boutique shops along the way. Many have nice items but are priced for wealthy tourists. During my walk I find a few old men on the side of the road sitting on blankets carving pieces of bone, or as they say elephant - maybe they are pieces of elephant tusks? There were making little pendants which looked nice but if I bought one and it was part of an elephant tusk I think US Customs may decide to detain me for quite a long while. Thus I declined to purchase the pendants.
I also stopped at a roadside stand for a soda. I wanted a lime flavored Miranda (Miranda is an Asian brand of soda - they have several flavors) and the woman checked the ice cooler and didn't find any. She took display can from the top of her cart and told me 2000 riel ($1 = 4000 riel). I reached into my pocket for the money and when I turned to hand it to her she was pouring my soda into a small plastic bag filled with ice. She then grabbed both handles of the bag, put a straw into the bag and handed it to me. She was smiling thinking she had done me a great favor by cooling off my warm drink. I paid for my bag of soda and walked around the corner and dumped it. Unfortunately most ice here is made with the highly polluted local water. So ice is a big no-no here in Cambodia unless you know the people or place uses bottled water.
At 5pm I meet Bunlee at the guesthouse. He is a Bunong student going to university here in Phnom Penh studying computers and IT services. His English is excellent and he has a great sense of humor. Around 6pm another Bunong student, names An, joins us and we head down the street for dinner. He is studying English at the university. We all joke around, talk about life in Cambodia and America, and share some dishes. Bunlee doesn't drink alcohol but An says he loves beer. I buy the two of us a round of Cambodia Beer (that's the actual name of a popular brand of beer). It tastes like a weak version of Miller or Budwiser. An will tell me within 30 minutes how he can feel the effects of the one beer! I'd call him a lightweight but he probably only weighs about 100 - 110 pounds so that expression fits in more ways than one. They ask me about foods and what I like. I tell them I'm willing to try anything and they look happy and say how about duck eggs. Ok that sounds fine...
We head across the street and sit at a table on another establishment. The waitress brings us each an egg. Bunlee and An each mix some spices and a few drops of lime juice into a tiny dish and I do the same. Then they put the eggs into tiny egg stands and tap the top with a spoon to crack them. Again I follow their lead with my egg. Slowly peeling away the top quarter of the shell, I realize it is not a hard boiled egg but an unhatched baby duck inside!!! They tell me to take a small spoonful of the lime juice and spice mix and drop it into the top of the egg then take a spoonful of the inside. I try it. Not bad but hard to describe - it was like a hard pudding or custard. On the third spoonful I feel a crunch in my mouth - I'm afraid to ask if it was a bone, beak or part of the shell. Maybe it's better that I don't know. These are eaten as treats or snacks and cost only $ .25 each or maybe $ .50 at fancy establishments.
By 830 we break up - An has to go to his job as a receptionist at a hotel near the airport. I must be ready by 7am for my trip to Sen Monorom.
Cambodia bound - Day # 1
Nothing better than a 23 hour trip (counting my 2.5 hour layover in Taipei) to start a trip! Left at 1230am Friday morning and landed in Phnom Penh at 1130am Saturday morning. Cambodia is also 12 hours ahead of the Eastern Time Zone, so noon here is midnight the night before in Connecticut.
I step off the plane, get my visa and walk out of the airport. A digital sign says it's 29 degrees, which I think translates to around 88 degrees Fahrenheit - it's warm here and I don't miss the New England cold. A guy holding a sign with my name, named Bunlee, is waiting for me. He is a Bunong student studying at the university here in the capital. The Bunong are a hill tribe that live in the hills and mountains of eastern Cambodia and some in Vietnam as well. He leads me to his moto (a small dirt bike or moped) which will bring us to the guest house. When he sees my large duffel bag, large and small backpacks he looks shocked. He puts the duffel bag in front of him at his feet and has me wear both backpacks. He then tells me he only has one moto helmet - I say ok - at which point he smiles and puts it on! The 20 minute ride from the airport to the guest house is chaotic at best and closer to anarchy. The best way to describe driving here is they use the Darwin Theory of Evolutionary Driving. A pedestrian has no rights and yields to all. A moto yields to cars, and cars yield to buses and trucks. The biggest vehicle always has the right of way. People even drive up the wrong way on motos all the time to avoid traffic. It's an educational ride to the guest house.
The guest house is close to the central market. Once I check in Bunlee asks if I want to meet for dinner tomorrow night with him and his friend. I have no plans so I gladly accept. After a few minutes he departs. I go to my room , shower and change then head out. I must try to stay awake until the evening to try to get my body onto Cambodia time. I wander down some streets, have a beer at a beer garden, and continue walking. I end up at the National Museum by chance and head inside. It has a large collection of statues and artifacts from the various Cambodian kingdoms of the past. It is a nice museum.
Nearby are two places I wanted to find here in Phnom Penh( referred to as PP by many people). The first is Seeing Hands Massage Center. It is a massage parlor where all the staff are blind. The cost is $6 for an hour body massage. I have a guy work on me and it helps relieve my body from the endless plane flight. The guy looks like he has been blind since birth. He speaks decent English and says he has worked there for one year. Great opportunity for these blind people - the only person with sight is the manager who greets customers and takes the money.
After my massage I head down the street to a restaurant called Friends. It is run by an organization that gives street children/vulnerable children a chance to learn a trade - such as waiting tables, busing, cooking, and running a business. The place is very busy with mostly foreign tourists. I order stir fried chicken with mangos and cashew nuts and also roasted zucchini with Chinese pears, basil and lemon. Both dishes were excellent!!
At 7pm I return to the museum to see a cultural song and dance show. A band of about 7 musicians and a cast of around 12 people sing traditional songs and perform traditional dances. Wedding songs and dances, birth of a child songs, and funeral songs are all performed. I only hope the singers didn't notice me nodding off at the end of the show. Honestly it was jet lag - not your show...
I'm tired and it's late so I flag down a moto driver to bring me back to the guest home. The guy wants $2 - double the normal price - but I'm to tired to haggle and we leave. Back at the guest house I go to the room and notice the lock to my large backpack is gone! I open the backpack and everything seems to be there. At the bottom of the pack I find the cut lock and a note from the TSA sating they had to open my bag to inspect it. How thoughtful of them. With that I climb into bed for the night - it's 9pm after all...
Welcome to the blog...
Hello and welcome to my blog. I will attempt to share and relate my adventures in the northeastern mountains of Cambodia, living with and teaching the Bunong, a hill tribe people of Cambodia.
Why am I going there?
Good question. I love to travel and find that travelling to developing countries is a much different experience than travelling to the developed countries. I have found people in developing countries are more concerned about day to day life, happier in general, and love to share stories much more than people of developed countries. Perhaps the hustle and bustle of the "rat race" has changed many of us westerners and we no longer enjoy the simple things of life and take time to slow down and enjoy ourselves.
I have travelled to India and Nepal before. I have also been to Thailand and Cambodia (only 4 days in Cambodia previously) and Vietnam - although those trips were as part of a guided tour. I have found southeast Asia to be a fantastic experience. The people are incredible, the food delicious and/or weird, daily life is nothing like what we have here in the United States, and the history is something I know almost nothing about. Ask yourself, what do you know about Cambodia? Honestly, outside of the ruins of Angkor Wat, the US bombing of Cambodia and the Lon Nol government, and Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge - what do you really know about the country? If you are like me - I knew of nothing else. For that matter I know nothing about Laos, Thailand or Vietnam except a few bullet points - seems southeast Asian history isn't really taught here in the States.
Another reason to travel there is the climate. I hate the cold! I would rather go somewhere hot, I mean ungodly hot to visit than to a cold climate for an extended period. On my first trip to India it was the second hottest day of the century the day I landed in Delhi, 121 degrees! The heat also keeps away many tourists - again another plus! With a hot location, you also need much less clothes to pack but you spend much more money on bottled water. Either way I'm going to the coldest part of Cambodia, where I'm told it should be around 75 - 85 degrees during the day and 50 - 60 at night. Not bad at all.
I searched the internet looking for a decent program to join up with. I found Globalteer, an English company, that has several programs around the world. I chose my program because it was working with older children (high school aged) and also allows me to work with the community center and go on tours/treks to see native villages, animal treks, elephant rides, etc. - a varied list of things that I am most looking forward to. A chance to see the countryside and mountain villages of the Bunong hill tribe and the jungles and the many wild animals that are said to still exist there. That was actually the main part of this placement that interested me. Hopefully it is as good as it sounds from the website and the emails I have exchanged with them. Only time will tell...
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