It's Mango Season!

Today marks the last day of teaching for me for at least a month.  Next week is the beginning of grade 12 exams and they are a really big deal, so students who aren’t in grade 12 aren’t allowed on the campus. So, no class next week and then because of Khmer New Year, we have a vacation until April 20^th.  That means that maybe the students will decide to come back on April 20^th and they may decide to take a few more days (or weeks) off.  So, that means that I have a lot of free time coming up.  While I am not looking forward to having nothing to do, teaching has really gotten to me, so this break will be a nice refresher.  This means that if school starts back up in late April, we will teach for the rest of April then May and then exams start the first week of June.  That means that I am almost done with my first school year.  Crazy!

Last week saw the continuation of my cultural interaction.  I went with my family to a ceremony for the 3^rd anniversary of my host mother’s sister’s death.  In Cambodia, death anniversary’s are celebrated with a party/festival/ceremony for the first 3 years, then it becomes much smaller scale.  And ceremonies in Cambodia mean all day affairs, for at least two days.  I’m sure that you can imagine how frequently funeral ceremonies happen here if they are celebrated when they happen, then for the next three years.  There is traditional funeral music that plays to let everyone know that there is a ceremony happening.  Also, I forgot to explain in my last entry, but for these ceremonies, the family rents out tents from a company and they set up these tents on the street in front of the house, which means that many streets are impassable because of ceremonies (whether funeral or wedding).  So, music is BLASTED from rented speakers all day long.  So, my family told me a while ago about the ceremony and I have gotten to know my host family’s extended family much better, so they made sure that I would be there.  Reaksemey, who is the girl from 11B who is a host niece made sure that I cancelled English Club for the party.  I talked to my family the night before to set up what time we were leaving, etc.  It is a Peace Corps policy that volunteers are forbidden from riding motorcycles (or motos as they are called here) but since the most popular form of transportation is by moto, my family always has to arrange special transportation for me.  So, my host brother, Huck, told me that we would be leaving at 8am.  I woke up at 7 am (slept in) then got ready to go.  I realized that my family will just knock on my door when it’s time to go, so I killed some time reading when I realized that it was 10:30 and I was still sitting in my room.  My host cousin, Poe, came and knocked on my door.  I threw on my clothes really quick (it’s too hot to wear anything but a sarong in my room) and walked outside my room to see everyone in my family either watching TV or sewing (my family runs a tailoring business) and I was the only idiot all ready to go.  Poe, who speaks English, asked me why I was ready to go when the party didn’t start until 2.  “Oh, I thought that it was earlier than that.”  “No problem, you can just come to my house now.”  So, we left, me in my teaching garb, four hours early for the party.  When we got to the party, the tent was still being set up and no one was even close to being ready.  So, I sat there and tried to help, caused more harm than good and just observed.  It’s really great to get to know my family, but I felt so stupid.  Plus it was so hot, of course, and I was sweating through my clothes before the party was even set up.  The set-up was essentially grass mats in the front with decorations, either traditional Buddhist art, colorful sheets or flowers and a picture of the deceased.  There was a set-up for the monks at the front and they arrived at 3:00 and the ceremony proceeded.  From my perspective, this is what happens: there is a clergyman who sort of emcees the whole thing and the monks lead chants while the rest of us (me and about 30 Khmer women) sit on the mats with folded hands.  I don’t know the chants, obviously, but I am always distracted at these events by how quickly my legs fall asleep.  I try to shift as discreetly as possible, but let’s be honest, I stand out like a sore thumb in this country and everyone is PACKED into the room, so moving is not really easy, especially when I can’t feel the lower half of my body.  After the monks finish their chants, they go back to the pagoda and two more monks came and basically passed the mic back and forth and gave a sermon.  I have been to many Buddhist ceremonies now, and they all vary based on the event, but this is basically the standard, as far as I have seen.  The two monks that came for the sermon where the head monks and one of them made a reference to me being there and taking part in their ceremony.  How did I know this?  Because I heard a few clues in Khmer such as “foreigner” and “English” then everyone turned around and looked at me and smiled.  I didn’t really know what to do and he asked me in Khmer if I could understand him and I said that I could and he thanked me in English for coming and listening.  Huck, my host brother, told me “He’s talking about you!”  I had figured it out by then and as awkward as it was, this is yet another example of how by simply coming to those events and being pleasant, it reflects well on my family.  After the monks left, we sat down and ate rice porridge or “boh boh” as it’s called in Khmer.  I sat with some people that I didn’t know, but I am used to that now.  So, I ate my boh boh in silence and reached for my security blanket (my cell phone) when I finished and didn’t have anything to do.  I have noticed that unlike meals in America, or at least with my family and friends, Cambodians don’t really view eating a meal as a social event.  At home, we usually have a running conversation at meals but in Cambodia, meals are reserved for eating only.  I have eaten a few meals in complete silence, which is actually welcome when I am feeling more uncomfortable than normal.  Many Cambodians (at ceremonies or even at restaurants) will eat then bolt right after.  There is not a lot of time after the meal for just sitting and chilling.  After dinner, my host mother asked me if I wanted to go shower.  Oh, I have been meaning to explain this: Cambodians shower no less than two times a day and usually more.  Chun Lai showers three times a day.  The “mue tuks” as they are called here, are really important because being clean shows a lot of self-respect.  So, even at an all day affair like this ceremony, people who didn’t live there showered at the house we were at, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends, etc.  So, I went home and showered.  When I came back, we ate some more food and the drinking started.  My host mother’s family from PP was back (the ones from the wedding) and they were loving round two of drinking with the American.  I took it easy because there were a lot of people there.  I have found a balance between not getting drunk but still having fun with them while they drink.  There was a band that came and the dancing started right away.  Everyone was really determined to get me to dance and I refused a bunch of cousins, then one cousin, Poe, convinced me.  Khmer dancing is very different from any that I have seen.  We basically walked around a table in a circle and moved our hands.  People don’t touch when they dance and it’s not very difficult, but I still felt stupid.  After three trips around the table, I realized it wasn’t for me and took my place next to my host brother and watched.  At 10:30, about 11 hours after I first arrived at the party, my host mother took me home.  I went to bed right away and slept like a baby. 

 The ceremony with the monks

 Monks giving a sermon.

As I said before, Khmer ceremonies are a two day affair, but I told Huck that I needed to go to church, which usually goes from 8:30-10:15.  As I was leaving church, Huck told me to ride my bike to the “festival house” when I got there, I realized how late I was and how underdressed.  Great, I was so early and overdressed Saturday, then late and underdressed on Sunday.  You win some, you lose some.  We walked to the middle school by the house and I sat with some more people that I didn’t know and we ate lunch together.  The food at these ceremonies is really, really good.  Like I said, no one really talked and a few people skeeted right after they finished.  We were only there for a few more hours then we went home.  I went to meet up with Darlene at the Sokimex to catch up on our weekends and when I got home, my host sister-in-law told me that we were going to the festival house for dinner.  “This damn party just won’t end!” I thought to myself.  I asked her if I needed to wear special clothes, but she said no and a few minutes later, my host brother came with his car to take me.  As we were about to leave, his car wouldn’t start.  I felt bad about the car, but I just wanted to eat in peace and go to bed early.  It was an exhausting weekend and I fell asleep right away that night.  

 Dancing at night. My host sister is in the white shirt.  

I realized that I have not described one of the most important factors of my service (and life): food.  As you probably now, rice is the most important food here, but second is fish.  And man, the food is so good.  It is really easy to tell which foods are “in season” because they are everywhere.  Watermelons are in season, while cauliflower and pumpkin season are just ending and it is the start of mango season, which will probably be my favorite.  I have been eating a fresh mango in my oatmeal for a while now and it’s amazing.  I also have developed a favorite food: grilled catfish with mango/fish sauce.  It is simply amazing.  The catfish is from the Sangker River, about one block from my house.  They salt the fish then grill it.  When they serve it, they take small mango shavings and mix it with fish sauce, garlic, sugar and chives.  It is out of this world and is my favorite food. 

I have been thinking about lessons that I have learned in Cambodia as we pass the 8^th month mark and I want to share them with you.  It is a completely disorganized list, but I find these things important, none the less…

1. Traffic laws and rules of the road are two completely different ideas here.  The “right of way” belongs to the biggest vehicle, not to the most at risk.  So, the hierarchy means that pedestrians are at the bottom.  Honking, instead of sending a message of “hey, I’m here” it is more of “watch out, I’m coming through!! Move it or lose it.”

2. Packing (whether it is a car, bike, bag or moto) the rule is basically, if it can fit, it’s fair game.  In a car, this means that a 50 pound bag of rice has a place in a car if it can be stuffed.  It is common to see a family of six on a two person moto and about 25 people in an 8 person van.  Now, this only includes the amount people- motos, animals, food, luggage, etc are not included in this number.  Cambodians can pack anything.  It’s common to see a van piled high with people, goods, food and animals and other forms of transportation, such as bikes and motos. If there is not enough room in the back, it is commonplace for there to be 4-5 people in the front seat.  Oh yes, the drive will sit on someone’s lap while he controls the wheel and someone else controls the petals.

3. Honesty is not seen as a quality here, it is the norm.  People just say it like it is, not meaning to insult anyone, that’s just how it is.  I can respect that.  At first, I wasn’t too happy when I would meet someone and they would say “so fat” right away.  Sometimes I get a “so pretty” sometimes I get a “so fat”.  It’s basically what they notice first- my face or my fat.  My students wrote letters to their pen pals and they didn’t sugar coat their lives.  One student wrote, “I have 5 brothers and 5 sisters.  We are very poor because my mother died 15 years ago.  My house is very small, but it’s ok because it is ours.”  He doesn’t want his pen pal to feel bad, that’s just how it is for him, so why not?  It’s sort of difficult to get used to, but I have really come to appreciate it.  It’s like a whole country of Pollard family members: in their heads, out their mouths.

4. Titles within the family can be VERY confusing.  For instance, Reaksemey, who has been referred to by Huck as “my niece” is actually his cousin’s daughter, which is not what we would call a niece.  I thought that I was missing a sibling or something, but then I realized that it’s just the titles.  Likewise, Reaksemey was referring to my host mother as her “grandmother” but really she is her great aunt.  The more I am with my family, the more I am realizing how people are actually related because the titles are really misleading.  In the end, it doesn’t really matter, but it helps me organize my family when I learn how people are actually related. 

Lastly, I wanted to tell you Chun Lai’s top two activities as of late.  There is a Khmer song called “Rambo” that basically says a bunch of things that end in “-o”.  For instance, one line is “chi moto, srok Boribo”  which simply means, “ride a moto, Boribo district”, two things that have nothing in common besides the fact that they rhyme.  My friend Keiko lives in Boribo.  But this song is essentially a bunch of nonsense words that end in “-o”.  One line is “le-it leo” which means “wear underwear” and it’s Chun Lai’s favorite part of the song.  So, whenever I do laundry, he always takes the clothes out of the bucket for me to hang up and every time he sees my underwear, he says “le-it leo”.  Even at dinner, he will tell me to “nyum bye, le-it leo” (eat rice, wear underwear).  Today, we were eating coconut cakes together and he was mixing up the words to say things like “wear a moto” and “ride underwear”.  He loves talking about underwear now, especially mine.  He will ask me if I am wearing underwear, which isn’t that weird because a lot of people don’t.  The second thing is that he now doesn’t let me go into my room without opening the door for me and telling to me enter.  Even if we are outside, he will run inside to open the door and say “joll” (“enter”).  It’s a cute little phase…..

With all my free time before my trip, I will probably try to tutor the kids who want to study over their vacation and finish the plans for International Women’s Day.  It is really becoming a huge deal- the governor of Battambang will be there.  I will probably try to get to know Battambang a little better as well and make more connections.  I also want to decide what to do during the summer.  Maybe study for the gre?  Maybe start a project?  Who knows…..

 Chun Lai showing off his green fingernails and toenails .

Happy belated St. Patty’s Day.  I was able to find some Guinness at the vas station, so Darlene and I enjoyed the day properly. 

                                 

Also, click on the link to read a little about why I am here: