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!!!!!
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