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Believe it or not, I know for a fact that most, if not all, of these ramshackle-looking huts contain a water cooler and a television set. Possibly also tiled floors and a functional tap. This isn't actually about my last day in Cambodia--Tuol Sleng was my last day in Cambodia, and you can read about that in
another entry. But there are a few loose ends I forgot to tie up before, a few pictures I forgot to show, and a couple stories I forgot to tell. I'd like to share them with you. This will be my final entry on Cambodia--although I don't want it to be 'cause gosh, I just had such a great time there. Nonetheless, life moves forward, and I have many more things to focus on at present moment. But first things first:
And very first, I bet you are wondering about the class I had to teach. I was teaching at an orphanage called SFODA, which is French-run, and I found it rather difficult to control the class. The guy I told you about who ran S-21--he used to be a Cambodian school teacher. Coincidence? No. Twenty kids are hard to control, especially when you can't speak their language. With the perspective I have now, I realize that my kids were actually quite good--they wanted to be there, they wanted to learn, they felt privileged to have a native
speaker of English teaching them the language. But it was hot, it was muggy, mosquitos were flying all over the place, and it was late at night. Who wants to pay attention under these circumstances? Not even me, a scholarly, academic, self-respecting 27-year-old.
So, every day for two weeks I went to SFODA for an hour and honed my non-existent teaching skills on 20 or so Cambodian orphans. We bonded, to a degree. One of the kids fed me her plate of food at one point (it was quite good). I didn't bond with all of them, though--I'm pretty sure that one of the boys hated me. Come to think of it, he reminded me a lot of one of the boys I went to elementary school with, who also happened to be a Cambodian refugee. He was one of my (many) peers who used to torment me and call me names. Sometimes, the abuse-filled buck just keeps getting passed along, I guess. It's like life is like a never-ending cycle of bad karma. The karma-laden buck may not stop in Cambodia, but it certainly stops HERE.
Speaking of karma, some of the kids weren't there under the
Saody's Zoo
I believe we are looking at a future career in the arts. best of circumstances. One girl, I suspect, had worked as a child prostitute prior. Others--who knows? Perhaps they were abandoned, perhaps they were war orphans. I subscribe to the philosophy that the past is best forgotten and so did not make any inquiries. I did stop myself from doing a unit on the military however.
I hope my readers like works of art, because one thing I could not stop myself from doing was a unit on art. Some kids chose to copy the stuff they saw around the orphanage. Others had a more eccentric view of the world, as I hope you can infer from the photos. Their works of art graced the crudely-built orphanage for days. It's worth mentioning that they produce artwork themselves and sell it to help support everyone. They truly have some skilled artists, and now I am happy to own a SFODA-painted image of traditional Cambodia.
After two weeks at this place, I graduated with my TESOL, the certificate of which now hangs laminated on my wall (yes, I'm a dork).
Now, dork I may be. But I'm also a self-interested survivor who advocates for folks to come to their senses
Our Flooded Courtyard
A small ocean of despair. and stop screwing the planet over with carbon emissions so that my own personal future doesn't become nasty, brutish, and short--and so I am going to shamelessly proselytize: I was in Cambodia during dry season. Not monsoon season. And yet, somehow, during my four weeks there we had as many intense rainstorms. Now, one incident of rain I could understand. But four? One of these storms brought tornado-like conditions, and the sound of corrugated metal sheets crashing into each other in the dead of night at Mach speed is really something to witness
during dry season. Furthermore, I want to mention that I have witnessed freak weather in every single country I have been to in the last ten years (and there are more of these than you might think). The rain also floods the courtyard of the LanguageCorps villa, so that after you unlock the gate you are stuck wading through three inches of water to get to the house. The one good thing I can say about this is that at least the storms knock down numerous mangos and durian fruits which float temptingly on top of the swamp-like conditions (and so I ate them).
I helped
Flooding
This is what the LanguageCorps Villa looks like from underwater. Get used to seeing the world this way, folks. phase in April's class by showing them the ropes around Phnom Penh. I made a dear friend at the Russian Market. I basked in the green and the sunshine. There is so much more I would like to say! But I think my time on this subject is done for now, and so I refer you to the extra photos I paste on the bottom of this page. Although one picture is worth a thousand words, I am suggesting you also read the captions.
Thus concludes my adventure in Cambodia. I think I'd eventually like to come back, by which I mean that I'd like to come back as soon as possible--hopefully, after I've done my time in Jining (six months I will NEVER GET BACK). Maybe. If I can hold out that long. If not, I coming back even sooner. As we sat around our farewell supper, my colleagues looked at me when I told them I'd almost rather stay in Phnom Penh. "Oh yeah," said Steve, with a sort of psychic certainty. "I have a feeling you'll be back. I can tell. No question."
And you know what? I think he's right. If nothing else, I
The Posh Side of Phnom Penh
A sight not often reported on. would at least like to stop by to visit Angkor Wat, whose ancient beauty and magnificence I missed last time. I would also like to hang out with the folks at LanguageCorps again, stop by the White Moon, ride in Dara's tuk-tuk, and give everyone at SFODA a big hug. I been away a long time.
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Dan
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Lesson Plans
Hi Leeza, How / when do you plan your lessons and how many hours are you teaching? Do you have access to resources there? Dan