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Published: April 4th 2009
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Our days just keep getting more and more festive! Just when we thought all the pre-holiday school parties were over, one of the teachers from Tchey School texted Lori this morning to tell her they would be having their party today from 8-11am. The previous night, Jaz had stated her intention to sleep as late as she could this morning - she’s getting better and better at ignoring all the crazy construction noise that starts at 7am - but I didn’t think she would want to miss this.
I wish you all could have seen her reaction. At 8:10, I noticed her roll over and pull the blankets off her face enough to look at her clock before burrowing back under the covers. (Yes, it’s 83 degrees in our room and she sleeps under a blanket.) A typical morning would see her doing this a few times before she reluctantly dragged herself into a semi-vertical position. When I saw her moving, I said, “Tchey school is having their party today if we want to go.” She literally
leapt out of bed, landing on her feet and hopping up and down. “Let’s go! Let’s go!” So by 8:45, we were in
a tuktuk, on our way.
And let me tell you: Tchey school knows how to party! There was a bank of speakers in the schoolyard, five feet high and six feet wide, connected to a collection of stereo equipment with a spaghetti-like maze of wires. The kids were dancing, some of the teachers were dancing, the talcum powder was flying, and no one was going to let us just sit and watch. In no time, the kids got brave enough to start smearing us with talcum powder and dragging us here and there to dance with them. Some girls made us garlands out of water lily stems and flowers to wear around our necks, and in no time we were bouncing around to a Khmer version of “We Will, We Will Rock You.”
Let me say a few words about talcum powder: it likes to collect in your ears. And it likes to collect in the rivulets of sweat that pour off your forehead and run into your eyes. And at first I thought perhaps I had inexplicably developed a sunburn on my face because it stung, until I realized that some of the talcum powder was mentholated.
And kids like to fill their hands with a big pile of powder, run up behind you and smear it all over your face. They also like to shake it into the air in huge billowing mentholated clouds. I kept thinking about whatever lung disease it is that talc miners get from breathing the stuff (I think it’s called silicosis?) and I have no idea why everyone in Cambodia doesn’t suffer from it. So in between the dancing and the singing “We Will Rock You” (which they played several times) and trying to learn some of the hand gestures that some of the girls were trying to teach me, I was occupied with trying to keep the sludge of perspiration and mentholated talc out of my eyes. And this went on until noon, with a break for the teachers to have lunch with us, and then it started again.
And
why do they celebrate with talcum powder? I have no idea. I did ask one of the English-speaking teachers, who couldn’t really explain. I suppose it would be like if someone asked me why kids put on costumes and go door to door begging for candy for Halloween, or
why we throw rice at weddings. I don’t really know why,
they just do.
Not all the kids were dancing. Some were watching, some were on the swings, and a few were sitting up against the speakers, permanently damaging their eardrums, I’m sure. The louder the music, the better the party, it seems, and by that measure, this was a damn good party. The ground was vibrating with the bass.
By the time we finished lunch, I was partied out and ready to head back for a shower and some quiet, but Jaz couldn’t tear herself away. We arranged for one of the teachers to bring her home later on his moto.
Random unrelated thought/observation: I’ve wanted a motorcycle for a long time, and after seeing them everywhere here, I want one even more. If they can carry a family of five, or three people plus a bicycle, or 400 pounds of live pork on a motorcycle, why can’t I carry my workbag, my electronic baby scale, and pick up some groceries on the way home?
Every moto I see here is small: 100-125 cc. And 90%!o(MISSING)f them are either Honda or Suzuki. Honda
has two popular models, the “Dream” and the “Wave.” Suzuki also has two, the “Viva” and the unfortunately-named “Smash.” I don’t think I want to drive a model called the “Smash.” But the whole idea of getting a motorcycle at all may be nothing more than a “Dream.”
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dad
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party!
Hi, I love parties, wish I was there. Jaz, great work on the Bridges video, it'll be even better once the resolution is applied. I am filled with enormous pride for all you're doing with the kids. WOW! The talcum custom is interesting. I'm wondering if that is what the refugee Burmese families use on their faces at the Family Room. ?? I know Jess that the motorcycles are enticing to you, and you know it more than scares me. US drivers don't see motorcycles AND there are a hell of a lot more giant vehicles on the roads here. Corky, those were quails I cooked, but you're right they're about the same size, actually the rats look bigger. Jaz's senior year there!! Wait! Are we ready for the 'empty nest'? LOVE, dad