Bands to Bandages

Matt and I were walking downtown the other night when we came across a band playing on the sidewalk in front of the Banana Leaf Pub. This was not unusual as it happens every Friday night. What made it memorable was that as we walked by they were playing reggae music which, if you don't know, is my favorite to hear especially live. There were also about two hundred people gathered in the street dancing and enjoying the band. Many of them were apparently on some substance or another. There were Asians and Europeans and possibly Americans getting sweaty to the groove that was substantially groovy. I, of course pushed up into the middle of the crowd and began to get my skank on. For those that don't know, skank is a term referring to the beat that is characteristic of a reggae tune. I had my camera and was taking many pictures and videos of the band and the people dancing. As usual, I was entertained by the exploits of various inebriated people surrounding me. You could tell that some of them were traveling to get away from who they are at home. The tell- tale sign is that they were trying to act as completely weird as they could. There were guys in nothing but shorts and a Vietnamese triangle hat and a Raccoon tail on their butts. This is not the action of a person who is acting himself, especially if he is alone. Anyway, Matt told me he was going home, and since I was having a good time dancing and enjoying the band and the show around me, I said I would stay. It was shaping up to be a pretty great night.


Fairly soon I realized that I had left my keys at home which meant that I should have gone home when Matt went because I would not be able to get into the coffee shop below my apartment. After this realization, I was not able to enjoy the band as much because I was trying to figure out how I would get it with no key or phone so I started walking home at a brisk clip. I was about a quarter of a mile down the road when I heard my name all of a sudden...

"Stephen, Wait up!" I turned to see Matt on his motorbike unwrapping a box of bandages.

"Matt, what in the world? You left ten minutes ago. I didn't bring my keys, I thought I was going to have to sleep outside tonight." I said laughing.

"Hey could you help me? This guy's head has a huge gash in it and I am trying to bandage it."

"Wha.." I looked over and I saw a bald Cambodian man with his left arm cut off as a nub just above the elbow and, sure enough, his wig was split wide open over his left eye and he had an equally gaping canoe dug through the back of his head. His whole face and head was covered in blood and he kept trying to shake Matt's and my hand with his bloody paw. His voice sounded like a more scratchy version of the manager in "Major League" and he was babbling on in virtually unintelligible and heavily accented English. It was easy to see that this man was tweaking on some substance or other and would not be very easy to communicate with.

"Yea I was on the way home and I saw this guy literally laying on his back in the middle of the street yelling his brains out. Apparently someone had bashed his head in."

Apparently. Apparent also was that this was not the first time this had happened to this man whose name turned out to be Tim Ho. There was a hospital literally one hundred feet from where we were field dressing this guy's noggin. A nurse from the hospital was standing on the curb near us and knew Tim Ho because he had been there several times with similar injuries and similar trips and they had not been able to help him. I asked the nurse to go get some rubber gloves and begged Matt not to touch this man until the gloves came. I had to run away several times when Tim Ho would come near and try to put his hands on me or shake my hand. I told him I didn't want to touch yet because of all of his blood and he said ok. I remember thinking that his quick and logical compliance with this request was odd. Finally, gloves came and we donned them.

"Stephen, could you keep him still somehow while I try to wrap his head up."

"Yea I'll try. I don't foresee this being very successful though." Despite my pessimism I asked Tim Ho to grab my hand and to sit down on the pavement. He would at times squeeze my hand and grimmace and then next moment he would stand up and start beating his chest and yelling how he is Tim Ho and these good white Mother F'ers are patching him up. I would yell at him and order him to sit down and he would immediately comply for a time before repeating the process. Sure enough, as soon as Matt finished the wrap, Tim Ho took it off immediately and started on another unintelligible rant. When he calmed back down, Matt said we would try again. So I took my station as Tim HO control while Matt started running the bandage around Tim Ho's melon.

"You speak English very well Tim Ho," I stated truthfully, "where did you learn?"

"I live in America for thirty years, in Columbus, Ohio." As I asked more questions he began to speak more clearly and reveal small tidbits to me such as he was married and has four children. This fact coupled with the drug use and the fact that he is not in America anymore allowed me to see a pretty sad story as I'm sure you can as well.

"Tim Ho, how did this happen to you?"

"I screwed up."

"What do you mean, How do you mean that Tim Ho?" I was wondering literally how he had got his dome smashed.

"I screwed up," He then laid back on the sidewalk which retarded Matt's efforts for a time.

"Tim Ho get up. We can't do anything if you are laying down."

"You have to pick me up man, I am very drunk." I sat him back up and Matt resumed his bandage laps. I tried to hold his hand again.

"You already helped me up, I don't want you Mother F'ing hand." I took my hand back quick to restore "calm."

"What were you saying Tim Ho? What did you mean you screwed up." I really wanted to know how he got hit.

"I mean I'm nothing. I'm a drunk, I take drugs, I am nobody." He was crying at this point.

At this point I did not know what to say. I didn't know how to share Jesus with a man who can't even understand the concept of staying still to be patched up. Matt was close to finishing the bandage a second time when Tim Ho began getting beligerant again. We both backed off to let him rage. He ran up and slapped Matt in the side of the head apparently demonstrating what happened to him. He went on for a few more seconds and then collapsed on his back on the side of the street again, breathing very heavily.

"Tim Ho you were in the States long enough to hear about Jesus," said Matt as he had his hand on Tim Ho's chest, "you need to know that he is the only one who can help you. You need to say out loud 'Jesus help me.'"

Tim Ho said it twice and then we got out of there because he got up again and we did not want to be in his path.

I have thought a lot about how I feel about that night. I have also known it would make it on here but I was not sure on what capacity. I am not sure now. It certainly is not the recounting of an adventure. It is not also a reassuring memory. The thing I ruminate on second most is the image of walking down the road of pleasure. I was laughing at many people earlier that night at this show who very well could be on the road to Tim Ho's mile marker. How sneaky sensuality is. I ponder most, however, on what was the right thing to do with and for Tim Ho. I would certainly walked right on past if Matt had not been there and asked for my help. I'm glad he did because it made me remember how many folks I walked past in the same state in Downtown Nashville. Go, homeless injured man. I wish you well. Keep warm and well fed.

Is that was we said to Tim Ho or did we attempt to dress his wound as much as we had the ability to help him? I am not sure. I don't think that our efforts were for nothing but I can't be sure. What did we really do? I have often wondered if we should have taken him to he hospital and paid for his stitches. The nurse said they have tried to help him several times to no avail though, so I don't think that would have been useful. If that were the case though, would that have been the sum of helping? I don't know, but I do believe that what could have been done at that moment was done for him, yet neither of us were left with any kind of warm fuzzy from helping someone. I, personally, was left feeling somewhat hollow. I guess it's not supposed to be about feeling good though. I have heard a lot that helping feels good... maybe that isn't always true though. I wonder if doing good is really hitting the right targets if it always feels good. More importantly, I think more and more since that night that feeling good is not the point. It seems like we are supposed to minister because, first, it is commanded us, and two, people need ministry. Yes it can minister to us as well, but if you are ministering where it is needed or chasing the right younglife kid then I think we will not always be left feeling so great. This is okay though because maybe that is part of sharing in the sufferings of Jesus. Losing our identity and our comfort so that others can gain a modicum of their own. We must also remember how much we ourselves reject help. I am also comforted in the thought that "some will sow and others will reap." We may not ever see the fruits of our labor in the lord, but that can't hinder our mission.

"Hey Stephen, do you mind if we say a little prayer for Tim Ho?"

"Oh yea, I did not even think of that." Matt went on to pray for protection and life for Tim Ho and then we went to bed wondering what he would do.

Throw Another Stone on the Scale

I knew coming over to Cambodia that all countries have issues with body image and also that each culture has a different image that they raise up as ideal. In a month and a half here in the country the only thing I have really deciphered is that they prefer to have light colored skin. They prefer it and not in the way that we prefer dark skin where it is a joke that we don't really care about. I have met a couple of women whose bride price (money paid to the family for betrothal) was exorbitant and I seriously would not have given these women a second look. But they have pale skin and this makes them valuable and beautiful. Dark skin can really make a person unattractive to a Cambodian, whereas western men and women can still be desirable with very light skin. Other than that I cannot point to any clear marks of what beauty is in this culture.

Despite this mystery I have discovered that there is one trait that they focus on and that is weight. The reason that I am confused though is that I cannot clearly tell how they feel about it. In any case, I will give this advice to any person coming to this country and possibly elsewhere in Southeast Asia. If you have issues with your weight and body image, this is not the place to be. We westerners here laugh about it because of their skewed view of size. Some of the people I know that they call fat are not even close to thick in western culture. It really is funny because I can never tell what exactly they are implying when they say the word fat. I don't think they mean it in the way that people in America mean it as a gross or taboo word, but I still can't completely shake the feeling that it is not a desirable trait for them and therefore not exactly a complement when stated about someone else.

There are a few mitigating factors which contribute to my quandary. Article number one is the flippancy and freedom with which they comment on weight here. Nothing said that freely can be thought of as insulting. It just wouldn't make sense to be that freely insulting right? I have been told a couple of times that I was fat and there was no hint of smile, joke, or derisiveness in the face of the speaker. It seemed to simply be a quantitative observation with no thought, positive or negative, to quality. I mean Ezra and his wife call me "Mr. Hippo" and ask me when my baby is due for goodness sake. Article number two, however, leads me in another direction. I have only seen one or two or three Khmer people in this whole city that are not completely thin. I mean really thin. I mean less than one hundred for the women probably and less than 130 for the men. I mean the biggest guy at the children's home is literally less than half my size. What's more is that I have overheard a couple of conversations where a Khmer girl has commented on her weight like she was self conscious. Her friends told her that her face was getting big. I can't be completely sure if she was bothered by this. I certainly don't think she was in a western sense, but I still could not escape the thought that it seemed to be something that she wasn't pleased with.

All that being said and including my run-in with Shining from a couple of posts ago, I am not sure what Khmer are intending when they use the word fat. Since I don't have very many issues with my body image, this candidness doesn't bother me as much as it confuses me. In any case, I gave you this abstract of the cultural study I have been conducting in order to introduce a short exchange that took place between Kagna and me after class one day a few weeks ago. She had only been in class for three days which made the conversation even better to me.

"Alright class you are dismissed and I will see you Monday. We will be discussing the past simple tense." The thing that I think is the most humorous about teaching Asians is you almost have to kick them out of your class. You cannot just say "that's it. See you Monday." They will wait quietly in their seats for some kind of sign that they may leave. I'm never really sure how explicit I have to be as I do not want to resort to just telling them to leave. It always makes for an awkward outro. Anyways, they finally started shuffling out and Kagna was the last to leave and she said something to me that I didn't catch.

"Do what, Kagna?"

"Teacha, you should do exercise." She was making a feminine bicep flexing motion as she said this which, along with her accented English, made me kind of smile to myself.

"Yea, exercise is good." (The only response I can ever think of.)

"Yes, you should do exercise because you so fot (fat)"

"Jeez. Yea maybe I will. Thank you for the suggestion."

Yes, You should. Take care you hot (heart)."

"I'll do that. Thanks for the advice Kagna. See ya Monday."

"Yes, you welcome. Bye Bye, Teacha"

You're welcome? I suppose I should be grateful.

Peanuts on the Pizza?

Yesterday I decided that instead of attending the coffee house Khmer church that meets in the Common Grounds below my room, I would go to the church that meets at the PCL Children's home. This church ministers to possibly one hundred children and adults in the surrounding village. I rode out to the church that morning with Matt (Papa, the guy who runs the children's home) and Jennifer who runs the books for PCL from America and is visiting. I see many of my Khmer friends when I get to the home and get to sit with a couple of employees from the coffee house. Matt was going to show everyone a video of some Miracles of Jesus so that they could learn more about how Jesus is God and not just a special man. The video was skipping and wouldn't play, and what I loved was that this did not phase Matt. I mean it phased him but he laughed it off. He knew that the main thing was that the people understood that Jesus had control over creation and was God. He then proceeded to call up four or five people to act out several infirmeries (blindness, deafness, lameness and the like). To play Jesus he called up Posset who proceeded to walk up and place his hands on the forehead of each person and raise his hands to signal his majesty and power. Everyone got a good laugh from that because it's easy to make them laugh and to laugh with them. Matt then directed the scenes from the video using his makeshift actors and a translator to explain what was happening. It was pretty funny and the congregation seemed to understand what they were meant to be taught.

After church they served lunch which I declined to eat because I don't trust my stomach with much of the food that is home cooked here yet. It will take time I think. There were many young kids from around the village who had obviously never seen a 240 pound man who has such a large beard. The first thing they did was gather around and play with my beard as I sat on the ground in their midst. This was funny because there were around eight or nine hands on my beard at one time and they would pull it periodically. Not the most comfortable situation but it was funny. After that they proceeded to pull on my hands and comment on how huge they were (I understood from context clues). Then they wanted to hang all over me. So I would hold out my arms and two or three of them would hang on them at one time (Pretty strong right?). Finally, this digressed into me getting down into a sumo squat and all of them climbing on me at once. I would then stand up and they would fall off and we would repeat the process. I was laughing pretty hard. We didn't talk because we didn't know each others' languages. That was obviously not a huge obstacle.

I then found out that the visiting YWAM team had planned on taking the children from the Orphanage to a pool for a swimming and pizza party. This was wonderful. They were a team of all girls and they have been tutoring and working at the orphanage for the last couple of months and they are about to leave. This group of girls has been great at building relationships and caring for the children and the pool party did not surprise me at all because these women are certainly oozing with generosity. I was invited and so I came. Just as I expected there was a lot of throwing people in the pool and wrestling and racing. Many of the kids did not know how to swim so I was able to teach my friend Ravuth (I call him the Smooth One because he just has this swagger that I don't even think he is aware of) and a couple of other kids the breast stroke. Ravuth is the one who has the serve that I can't return. The YWAM team had also ordered a ton of pizza. I tried this one piece and it had peanuts on it. Nasty. I took a lot of pictures this day and this will be my first blog with a significant amount of pictures. You can click on each picture to make it larger.


This is Ezra and he is an expectant father. He is a year younger than me and he works as a sort of parent at the orphanage. He is probably my best Khmer friend. He is good at helping me learn how to witness to people who are raised in an eastern pantheistic culture. He asks all these questions that make me think about how to explain the gospel and even the existance of God while using non academic language. He and his wife call me Mr. Hippo and always ask me how my baby is and when it's due... While rubbing my stomach.


What did you do at the pool as a kid. We throw each other in. I don't care if you can swim or not. Ravuth is the one in the yellow shorts and sunglasses.


This is Rek Tek Sen. He is a meek and mild young man. He leads music for the youth group and works at the coffee house. He might be my favorite employee. He is just the meekest and most solid guy.


Posset. You already know him.


This kid's name is Baran which means "Foreigner." They call him this I think because he looks more Vietnamese than Cambodian. He is definitely the most mischievous kid at the home and he takes his tumbles and knocks with a laugh and comes back for more. He is truly afaid of nothing. He had no idea that anyone was watching him at the pool that day and he was doing flips in the water and coming up with his hands in the air like a gymnast. My friend and I watched him and laughed for about ten minutes. By the way, he is eight years old.


The girl on the right's name is Cheat Dan and she is the coolest. The other two girls names are Sara and Sena. Matt told me that he is always telling Sena and Sara that they are beautiful because they are self-conscious of how dark they are. It is the culture here that dark skin is repulsive. He says that people comment on their skin from time to time, especailly when they have Asian visitors to the orphanage. He says that they will tell other girls how pretty they are and then say "oh you are dark." It's sad I know that a girl who really is pretty will be thought ugly if she is dark enough. I realize, however, that we have many similar conventions in America. It just seems especially sad to me because your skin doesn't grow lighter even if you become more beautiful. Despite this the staff works really hard to make sure that every child, even Sena and Sara know that they are loved and cherished. I think they are succeeding because these two girls are not at all brooding or downcast. Instead I love to be around them. I played Sorry with them the other day and they made the game fun for me just because of how they loved to yell "Soorrryy!" every time they bumped someone and thought it was so funny.

I had a blast at the pool that day and I do not usually enjoy the pool that much. I'm more of a float around type of guy but today they made the pool an adventure because there were so many little nooks in which to deposit care for people and to see people being cared for.

Shining

A name on any other rose...

I was walking down the street in downtown Siem Reap yesterday when all of a sudden, I heard someone calling my name...

"Steve!... Steve!"

Those of you who know me know that it is not a normal day when I am called by Steve. People are usually joking when they call me that. I don't actually mind at all what people call me as long as I know it is me that the name refers to, but I have always thought that Steve is an odd sounding name. It reminds me of a fifty year old man with a mustache. I plan on being that man someday so I will probably end up being called Steve. Anyway what's in a name right? Except, there are only about forty people in Siem Reap with Khmer accents that know my name so it was surprising to hear downtown.

I look over and it's official... I do not know the guy who is calling out my name at all. I have never seen him in my life. He is a tuk tuk driver posted on the corner of an intersection looking for clients. I hold off judgment until I get closer but then it is certain that I do not remember this person.

"You are Steve right?"

"Uhh... Yea I'm Stephen"

"Yea, Steve. Maybe you don't remember me?"

"I don't think I do remember you man"

"Yea I drive you around three days and we went to temples"

"Man I have not gone to the temples yet"

Now it was this guy's turn to look confused. We both looked at each other for about five seconds.

"Yea... Steve, you help me make email so I can check email.

I don't take drugs so there is no way that I have blocked out three days of tuk tukking and helping a driver set up email.

"Steve you came here last year and I drove you and we went to temples. You are from England."

"Holy smokes... I see what's going on. This is the first time I have ever been in Siem Reap man. I think you met someone else last year with the same name as me. I am from America."

"Oh wow. You look just like him. You have same beard same face and he was also fat."

(Overlooking the fat comment)"Yea that is amazing that you met someone that looks like me and has the same name. Man I was really worried as to why you knew my name."

"Yea I drove him around and helped him find hotel. He wanted one with pool so he could swim because he so fat." Okay, I get it. Still I'm not yet sure if they are aware of the implication of that statement as I hear it all the time.

"Yea, exercise is good."

"Do you want to ride? I can take you to temple."

"Not today man. I'm just walkin about"

"Maybe tomorrow then, I'm here everyday and everyone knows me. Just ask for Shining, like the sun is shining."

"Will do, Shining. Hey can I get a picture?"


Sure enough, I saw him today and will probably see him more and more. We talked for about forty-five minutes today about various things and I like him. I don't want to ask how to spell his name because I like the thought that it is spelled Shining.

Welcome to the Rock

"Paul said to Peter you gotta rock yourself a little harder."


The above quote is the first line in the song "Girl in the War" by Josh Ritter and is an obvious pun on Peter's name. This song is about doubt and fear, or so I believe. Peter and Paul are the main characters in the song, which actually has a pretty ambiguous meaning. So if you feel the desire to ruminate on a song then ruminate on this one. You could spend hours trying to interpret it (I know because a friend and I did one time). If you don't feel that desire, that is just as well. The song is still one of the greats to listen to.

I was thinking about this song this morning as I was reading through 2 Corinthians and one of the cross-references took me to 2 Peter. I like to view Paul and Peter as Stonewall Jackson and James Longstreet, or Patton and McArthur: Two great generals who were the two arms of one great cause (I am not saying that the Confederacy was a great cause; it was quite the opposite in fact. I am saying that their leader Robert E. Lee was a great man and he used them in devastating fashion). Just as Patton and McArthur were used in different ways in two greatly differing theatres, so, too were Paul and Peter used differently. However, while their tactics and targets differed at times their goal was one and the same: to establish the bride of Jesus. Similarly, just as Jackson and Longstreet were trusted with a full measure of authority and freedom to execute the instructions given to them, so too were Paul and Peter given full authority to execute the great commission using the talents and abilities given to them from their Commander in Chief.

As I read the final warnings of Paul to the Corinthians I noticed a verse that gave me pause. Paul told them to "Examine yourselves to see whether you are in the faith; test yourselves. Do you not realize that Christ Jesus is in you- unless, of course, you fail the test (2 Cor. 13:5)." This statement is placed in the midst of a passage entreating them to test whether Paul and the apostles have failed the test of possessing the spirit of God. He says he trusts that they will find he has not failed. He mentions that he has considered himself weak in the flesh so he may be strong in the power of Jesus, so that he can do nothing against the truth but only for the truth. This verse was curious to me because the concept of humans testing themselves is one that I fear. It casts visions of men throwing themselves off of the top of the temple (see the temptation of Jesus), or men allowing snakes to bite them, or alcoholics going to a bar trusting that God will not let them fall off of the wagon. So naturally I wanted to look further into this puzzling verse. How does one examine or test himself?

The cross-reference given in my note sent me to 2 Peter 1:5-11 Which you can read here by copy and pasting the link to the browser bar: http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2+Peter+1%3A5-11&version=ESV

Now what are these two saying here. What then is meant by testing or examining? They are obviously working in divine concert. I like how men writing at different times, to different people could be used as two cooperating verses that mutually explain each other. Well, taken together, Paul and Peter seem to be saying that we should search for those fruits in ourselves that identify us as a child of light. I do not take this to mean that we put ourselves in situations where our faith will be tested or where we can see God's intervention. Peter and Paul never say that in all of their letters (I am not saying this definitively but I am virtually certain that it is correct). There is much support in the bible for the fact that God will test us and direct us and lead us to places where we see his intervention. Forcing his hand is arrogant and disobedient. I think, however, that most people know that.

So what is testing here? Peter in verse 5 says that the believer should "make every effort." In another translation he uses the term "diligence." Whether you believe that it is our responsibility to choose to cultivate righteousness now that we are free from sin, or you believe that God brings these to bear free of our effort, it is still our responsibility to be diligently mindful of the qualities mentioned in the verses in 2 Peter. There are numerous opportunities everyday in the life of every child of God to be faithful and to display the fruits of the vine. Paul is admittedly speaking to a troublesome group of Corinthians and telling them to watch out lest they be given over to their sins and the church fail. He is telling them to test themselves to see if God has given them over to their sinful desires (Reprobation: it’s a cool word. Look it up and use it). He is telling us to search our hearts and souls to see if we desire and are making gains in the areas mentioned in 2 Peter to name a few. We don’t have to search very far either. We can pass or fail these tests every minute in our normal everyday life.

Paul and Peter seem to be telling us to rock ourselves a little harder. We are called to trust and rest in the fact that God will finish a good work in us while at the same time searching our conscience. There is plenty to mark and our spirit filled conscience should mark it. It takes patience and diligence to learn to search your conscience. Some of us may never have all surpassing assurance and peace that some speak about. We may always fight our doubts and fears of missing the bus. I recently read an article in Time magazine about Mother Teresa. It referred to many letters she wrote lamenting the fact that she felt cut off from God’s presence. Apparently, this was a consistent theme in her life that caused her pain for over 60 years. However, that did not stop her from completing her mission. She acted in the way the scripture had directed her despite her thorn. It is possible that this was her cross to bear for some reason. (Please do not attack that statement. It is only conjecture that was brought up in the article.)

The point is that “We will be known by our fruit” and we must search ourselves for these fruits. This seems to be what Paul meant when he told the Corinthians to test themselves. He was saying “Where is your fruit Corinthians?” How can you ever know if you are a child of Christ if you are never displaying or desiring the likeness of the Character of Jesus (righteousness)? So let’s test ourselves in faith. If we believe then let us with diligence gain goodness, knowledge, self-control (my biggest weakness), perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, and love. The greatest of these is love which is a broader term than the way we mean it many times, but we are to pray for, desire, and cultivate all of these things simultaneously. And do not be discouraged because if you are a child of light then you have a powerful force behind you. These things will show themselves through your diligence because that is what God desires in all of his children and rest assured his desires will be realized.

So lets "pretend the dove from above is a dragon and our feet are on fire" (the second line from the song. Josh Ritter may be the new Bob Dylan without the social importance).

P.S. Feel free to attack the Bob Dylan statement. I am willing to let it go. I just really dig Josh Ritter.

Pickas

I just found my camera the other night. Turns out it was in my computer bag. I took a picture with my intermediate class today and it was pretty funny getting them to pose. We had to squeeze in pretty close because no one wanted to be front row. The girl in the red and white striped jacket second from left is Navy that I wrote about previously. The girl on the far left, Sokunna, just joined class today as she was brought in by her sister Kagna (pronounced Kanya) who is standing next to me. All of the girls are 21 or older. Kagna works for the government so that is pretty cool. I can't remember how old she is but I think she is mid twenties. The fellas are really funny. They live at the childrens home and take my class on their lunch break from school. Today, every time I walked out of the classroom to get something (which was about three or four times) they locked the door on me. It was funny that it did not get old. It was funny every time. They didn't even keep me out. As soon as I tried the handle, they unlocked it. Pretty benign joke. The one standing next to me is Thom (17) and next to him is Chomreon (15) and the Sochitra (14) on the far left. Thom has missed a few classes because he was playing snooker. He didn't even hide that from me. I asked him where he was and he said "I was playing snooker." Well he hasn't missed since so I can laugh about his audacity.

Funny little anecdote: Today Kagna was trying to ask me about the difference between Australian English and American English. She kept saying U.S. sty and Australian Sty. I had no clue what she was asking me. Turns out she was saying "Style" and was asking if the words are the same when they are pronounced with different accents (styles). This literally took me ten minutes to figure out and then three or four more minutes of pronounciation practice to say the word style.

The Rain Man Cometh

Last night I turned on the TV in my room before I was going to bed and the movie "Rain Man" was playing. I came in on the part where Tom Cruise's character Charlie Babbit was meeting his brother for the first time. He was also finding out that Raymond was actually his brother and not just a beneficiary named in their father's will. I'm still not quite clear on how he didn't know Raymond because I have seen the whole movie, just not at the same time. Charlie was trying to convince Raymond to come back to L.A. with him by tempting him with a Dodgers game. He was trying to say this to Ray and Ray kept going on about what days they were scheduled to play, what pitchers were in the rotation for what day. Finally Charlie landed on seeing a Dodgers game next Wednesday and they started walking back inside. While they were walking, Ray starts talking about his show coming on soon and it is a long way to L.A. and that he can't be off the ground for more than two or three hours tops. Everything he says is spoken in a sort of unaffected mumble with no expression while Charlie is talking over him and trying to steer him in the conversation. Ray cannot be steered though and this frustrates Charlie because Ray is impervious to logic and Charlie must realize this and slow down to find Ray's line of thinking.

Today, two days after Chinese New Year, only one of my students showed up to my intermediate English class. She happens to be the student who knows the least English in the whole class. She is a sweet girl named Navy (pronounced NarEE) and she really wants to learn English; I can tell this because she does not miss a class. When I ask her a question she looks around like she does not know who I am talking to. It is a true effort to talk to her because of her limited understanding. I feel bad too because she is always apologizing for her English. When I ask her how she is doing she always says "Yes". I'll take that as an "I'm doing fine." The challenge, however, is simply that she is in a class with people who are far beyond her. My other students are nearly conversational with their English. I can't just teach to the rest and ignore her though because she is so consistent. I, in times of short perspective, get a little frustrated that she was placed in an intermediate class when she belongs in a beginner one class.

As I said before, she was the only student to show up today. I had a worksheet prepared for the students today to review nouns, subjects, and objects. I feel that I made it pretty simple so that we could walk through it. She did very well in the first section after I explained to her the concept of an "example", like give me an example of a place (nouns are person, place, thing, or idea and I asked for examples of these things). The trouble came when I asked her to tell me the difference between a subject and an object. I asked her what a subject was and she said "Navy plays football," which is an example sentence that I used last week. I went with it and asked her what the subject was and she answered "Navy." I thought we were getting somewhere and asked why Navy was the subject in that sentence. She repeated the sentence. I said yes and then just told her what to write after a few more tries. She ended up remembering the concept but just could not tell what I was asking her. Then I made the mistake of creating a practice sentence that was a command with an "Understood You" for the subject. This was a bad idea as I found out that it might be a little advanced. She obviously wasn't going to get this one because it is for more advanced speakers, but, like a fool, I tried to teach it to her anyway instead of moving on the simpler concepts.

Let me underscore the fact that this whole class session was highlighted by the sheer effort we were both putting into trying to understand each other and be understood. About halfway through the explanation of "understood you" I asked her a question and she started mumbling the sentence to herself and saying the word's verb, subject, and object intermittently. This was happening as I was trying to ask her pointed questions to lead her to the answer. It began to remind me of the scene from "Rain Man" that I described earlier. She was mumbling like I almost wasn't there and I was asking her questions and talking over her. Keep in mind that I am not saying that this girl has any mental retardation or deficiency. That is not the point. She is actually pretty smart when you can speak her language I think. It just reminded me of it because as she was mumbling her thoughts and possible answers nonstop, I was plodding right ahead with my questions and statements. I paused for a second and realized what was happening. She knew that she was not even close to following me and she wanted me to see that she was working very hard to understand. So she was mumbling like Raymond because she didn't want to disappoint me. I would not make the same mistake that Charlie Babbit made with his brother for half the movie. I wanted to communicate and to find out what she is missing. I wanted her to know that I am not frustrated, and she is not failing me.

I told her to stop and take a deep breath with me. I told her it was okay that she didn't have the answer. I told her that she would learn because she comes everyday. I know I am a fast moving person in thought and conversation from time to time. I have to slow down however if I desire my students to learn. I like Navy a lot. I feel like I want to be her big brother. She is one of the oldest students in the class and yet she is behind everyone. I know she is ashamed of her English because she apologizes nearly every five minutes. The teacher is an intimidating figure in the East. It is not like the West. Students are afraid of their teacher and do not talk. The teacher tells them what to remember and they try not to look stupid in front of the teacher. I am working hard to set up an environment where they are not afraid to be wrong in front of me.

We took a break. I told her she was doing a good job and that I would see her tomorrow. We did not tackle the "understood you" and I think that I will cross that one off the curriculum. However, I understand Navy a little more now. She wants me to know how hard she is trying to understand. She has more notes in her pad than anyone else in the class. She does everything that I ask, which, if you are a teacher, you know is a nice break from the usual. We will tackle subjects and Objects another day.

I Was Already Bad A Shopping/food I don't need

Well it's official, I definitely need a chaperone to go shopping in a foreign country. I went to the grocery store the other day and ended up buying a bunch of things I had never seen before and was curious about. This did not bode well for me as I spent more than I should have and didn't even like it all. It also did not help that most of the food was labled in Thai. I didn't even get any staple foods. I got this blueberry milk that looked good and was, some dried fruit which I didn't end up liking, some sliced fresh fruit, a carton of about 25 fantas that were a flavor called Sarsi (turns out that means root beer so not great but could be worse), and a few packs of meat and some shampoo. I got home and realized that what I bought will hold me for about three days. Dangit. Oh yea, and I got soy sauce. I don't even have anything to put that on. See Jerry Seinfeld's description of grocery stores to hear a description of me shopping.

"Mesquite flavored potato chips... What is mesquite anyway... I wonder if it's made from mesquitoes."

Come to think of it, you should get that dvd anyway cause it's just bombastic. You may never stop laughing.

Battles Won and Lost in the Sands of Cambodia

The organization I have been working for here in Cambodia runs a children's home or orphanage that is located down a dirt road only a mile or so outside Siem Reap. Around 25 children live at this home and are anywhere from 11 to 19 years old. There is a lot happening here at this orphanage. Every night they study together, they eat together, and on Sundays the worship together. It is like any other home you could encounter. It is a true family feeling. There are also Widows who live at the orphanage who cook and care for the children as well and two married Cambodian couples and one Caretaker named Matt who they call Papa.

All of these things are simply orbital masses circling around the true heartbeat of the children's home. I am talking about 1800 square feet of sand where you must test your mettle and forge steel out of your calves and nerves. You must run, jump, block, set, bump, and spike. That's right. The life of the orphanage, for the boys anyway, revolves around the volleyball court. Here is where the kids' passions lie. I can see them at school watching the clock with anticipation for the time when they can leave and go to their real training ground. You can even see the younger kids watching and practicing their imaginary serve form and waiting for the older ones to get off the court so that they can practice to join the big game someday.

These young men are playing for keeps too. The loosing team must either run laps or buy the winner cokes per the pregame agreement. I have bought a few Cokes. That and the no touching the net rule are the only two rules they are stringent on however. They are not worried about carries (within reason of course), proper setting technique, rotating servers or the likes but for God's sake don't touch the net. For all that free styling method, they are still, I would consider, very good volleyball players. I am a pretty good volleyball player but there are two kids with serves that I literally can only return about half the time, even if it is hit straight to me.

I laugh because they can't know how tiring it is to be at least 140 pounds bigger than they are. I sweat to the point where the sand literally turns to mud on my ankles and lower legs. It takes me thirty minutes to wash it off in the shower when I am done. It certainly lets me know what kind of shape I am in. I cannot come to the orphanage, however, without at least playing three or four games. They won't allow it. I love it though because I have not been able to compete this fiercely since almost high school. For them, it is my whole reason for coming; why would anyone come who didn't live there except to join the game. This is their game, and just like the Sandlot, it never ends; it only pauses.

As I was waiting, during one of my only pauses of the day, for the next game to start, I was sitting under their mango tree next to a kid named Possett (I have no Idea how to spell his name). He was asking me when I was going to crush it because I have only been the setter so far today. I told him that is something I can only do under the perfect conditions. He nodded his assent and that he felt the same way.

"Do you have girlfriend?" he asked

"No I don't," I said.

"Why not?" he asked (weird question)

"I just haven't met a girl I liked," my usual answer.

"Do you have plans for future?"

"Um... not really. I will have to work some when I get back to the U.S., but I don't have any definite path for my life to follow. What about you Posset?

"I don't know what God has for me but I want to be a good husband and a good father. You have to have good job for that too though."

"Yea you need to provide. How old are you Posset?"

"I am sixteen," He answered... Pregnant pause, "Stephen, how do you feel if you see Jesus coming right now, up there, coming down (he is gesturing to a point in the sky)?"

"I don't know how I would feel Posset, I think I would feel relieved."

"Relieved is good Stephen. I would feel like now I know that it's true and it's real and I can see. That makes me very happy"

"Me too Posset. No more wondering and hoping. It's real. That will be the day."

"Yes but I still live now like that."

"Like what Posset?"

"Like no wondering. Like it's real. It's our turn for the game now." He was through with philosophy for the day. We went in and lost a close game.

Later that night, as I was leaving and saying bye, another younger kid standing with the others said "Goodbye Stephen! God bless you!"

"Thank you, I said as I climded on the back of the Moto.

"God Loves you Stephen!"

"Thank you" And so he does. And there is my hope.

Greater Power

"Ever you desire to appear lordly and wise as the kings of old."

There is no real purpose for me to put that quote on this blog today but I have had it stuck in my head today and I think it is a funny quote. This is what Denethor said to Faramir when Faramir told him he would not have brought the Ring to his father because of its ability to corrupt any man who tries to possess it. A wise decision right? Not to Denethor because he has been looking into the Palantir having his mind twisted by the Evil One. Thousands of years of wisdom and lore about this Ring and Faramir wants to heed it. How is this a trait to criticize? As I said Denethor's mind has been twisted and he has fallen into the same trap that Saruman the traitor fell into only his reaction was despair instead of lust for power.

Denethor began to think that he could do what no other man or elf in Middle Earth has ever been able to do: master the One Ring. He did not come to this decision out of pride but out of despair. He saw something was wrong and that there was a solution in reach albeit a far fetched solution. The trap, however is that his solution does not seem as far fetched as the solution that the Council came up with. Send the Ring into the country of the owner? How does that make sense? As Gandalf said "There was never much hope. Only a fool's hope." Even though it was only hope enough for a fool, it was the only avenue for complete and permanent victory. Denethor's plan, even if it had defeated Sauron, would have only rendered him temporarily disabled at best. It would have only resulted in one more delay and "watchful peace" as Tolkien so often put it, before Sauron mustered his strength again. Only the fool's hope was a chance for complete and final victory. As Denethor failed to recognize, and as the Grey Pilgrim so often reminded us, there were greater powers at work in this tale than even Sauron.

"The ring was meant to come to you Frodo, and that is an encouraging thought."

I find myself pitying Lord Denethor instead of hating him. He was able to look back on thousands of years of greatness and history and it was all about to come crashing down under his rule. Heavy is the head that wears the crown. How could I judge him? I identify with him. I find it difficult to trust in our own "fool's hope." How often do I, like Denthor, not trust or recognize that there are greater powers at work than even our own Evil One? How often do I place my plans in the hope of a diminished victory and temporary delay of the Enemy? More often than not sadly. How tempting to feel despair at being abandoned and passed over because defeat seems inevitable and the evidence of a plan or a victory is elusive?

However, whether or not I have the strength to be bolstered by this hope, victory: complete and final, has been decreed and executed and I cannot compromise this tennet.

What a Trip

I have never spent that much time on a plane in my life. I was barely able to remember that there was life outside of airplanes and airports. I spent around thirty hours flying to Cambodia and watched about four in flight movies and several in flight TV episodes. "The Informant" is pretty funny even though I didn't get to finish it, "Love Happens" with Jennifer Aniston is actually a pretty good movie (I am holding less of a grudge against her now for the whole Brad situation ;)) and I was surprised. Everyone should definitely check out the TV show "Better off Ted." Hilarious. Also let me interject that Singapore Airlines does it right. They know how to treat a traveler. I was served several full meals, had my own personal video screen with free media, was given a hot towel to freshen up with before every meal and blankets and pillows come stock (I don't even have to ask for them). In short, this trip was definitely not as much of a hardship as I expected. I tried to stay up as much as possible on the plane so that I could be tired and sleep at night when I got to Siem Reap. I thought this was a sure fire way to lick the jet lag more quickly. I was wrong. You cannot always defeat the body with the mind. I become a zombie around two in the afternoon. It will be fixed soon enough though. I had stops in San Fransisco (huge airport), Hong Kong (Liquor stores in the airport??), Singapore, Da nang, and then finally in Siem Reap, Cambodia. I had many feelings as I was flying over various lands. My main feeling though was that of Sam Gamgee's from Lord of the Rings: "One more step and this will be the farthest I have ever been from the shire. It was odd for me to say "I am in Hong Kong, or San Fransisco." I have only talked or read about these places, and I still have only seen the airports but I was there! I began to get somewhat philosophical, however, as I was flying over Vietnam and Cambodia. I was thinking that every hill and ripple in the land, every village, city, and rice paddy is part of someones home. The person living there knows that land and is familiar with it as I am familiar with Murfreesboro, Tennessee. The difference, however, is that no one made countless Vietnam War movies about Murfreesboro. My only experience with this land is history and media involving the Khmer Rouge Revolution and the Vietnam War. These people don't know about our praised cinematic opuses such as "Apocalypse Now" or "Born on the Fourth of July" that showed us the horror from our living rooms. For me these historical events are only blips on a world timeline that I can sit back judge and critique as to their justice or injustice and say thank goodness they are over. I can say that the Khmer Rouge regime was evil for what they did or that we really messed up in Vietnam. What this means for them, however, is that the faux pa in Vietnam left these people with a lifetime of repair and healing. Reconstruction, if you will. Our soldiers came home and their families heard the stories (which is tragic enough); their soldiers were home and their families lived the stories and still are living the stories. I was flying over the land thinking "this is where it all happened." What an odd feeling. These were my thoughts during my last few hours of flying. With these thoughts I wasn't thinking about or criticizing the west because I don't think that would be fair. I'm not trying to say that there is any current guilt involved. I was simply thinking that in my mind seeing this land and knowing what happened here made these concepts more real to me. I think that spending that amount of time on a plane does odd things to your mind. Do you know what smashed against these thoughts, against all my experience with Vietnam history books and War movies? Vietnam has commercial airlines, flight attendants, a nice airport, and even better in flight service than Delta. This is a dimension that I never thought about in my ignorance of this region. Their entire history and culture is not relegated simply to the history I have read and seen in "Platoon" and "We Were Soldiers" etc. I knew this, but I may not have ever given it much thought. I may not have ever thought of Vietnam and Cambodia outside of their relevance on the world stage. Do you see what thirty hours on a plane can do to your mind. It is like an isolation chamber. As I said before, though, the flight was not as awful as I thought it would be. I actually enjoyed it (not that I would want to do it every day).
Getting on the ground in Cambodia presented me with an odd feeling as well. It's like the end of a shift at work. No matter how much you love your job, you are instantly the most chipper person in the world as your are walking to your car. Thank God for this too because I must have looked like a complete fool going through customs. I had no idea what I was doing and did not receive much help because of the language barrier. I also learned that you cannot expect every white person abroad to be an English speaker. You can imagine the comedy of learning that lesson over and over. Several times I asked someone a question hoping they would save me from my ignorance and I could rest in our common western experience only to get the same quizzical look and the response "No English." Goodness Gracious! I know I looked pretty foolish as I had to go back several times to fill out some other form that I had no idea about. It was more funny to me than anything though because I was in my chipper, trip finished mood. Nothing could kill my buzz. I was halfway across the world and this felt like a monument. I think I like this traveling thing. As Humphrey Bogart so poignantly stated "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." At least I hope.

The Deep Breath Before the Plunge

Hello Friends,
I am smiling as I write this now because this is the first time I have ever written a blog. I used to think that they were silly but now I am fairly excited to write this one. The reason that this blog is being written is why I am excited. there has never been a reason to write one and now there is. I am about to embark on a journey the likes of which I have never attempted before. I am moving to Cambodia to teach those who would learn how to communicate using the English language. Previously the thought of going to Asia held no interest for me because I was a Spanish minor in college and I wanted to teach English in a Spanish speaking country. I am interested now though because they organization I have been hired by has found a very valuable and specific niche in the city or Siem Reap, Cambodia. These citizens are part of a region with a growing tourism industry where the ability to speak English means the difference between being able to provide for yourself or not. If these citizens are able to learn even a modicem of the language, they will be able to escape the fierce poverty in which they are intrenched.
As much as this fact excites me, it also causes anxiety in me. What if I am not up to the job? What if I fail? What if I am not able to teach my students effectively? These are fears that I think we may all face when we are about to take a seeming blind turn on the road we are traveling. It is as if we are standing at the edge of a pool of water, the bottom of which we cannot see. I am nervous to plunge into this water. I am afraid that I will hit the bottom too quickly or realize that it is over my head and I cannot swim. I cannot let this unknown drive me away from this pool, however, as it lies in my path. I must take a deep breath and jump. That deep breath means commitment. It means I will submit to the nature of this pool as long as I am swimming fiercely. Literally this means that I must fight these feelings of inadequacy because more than likely they are categorically false. This journey is not about my adequacy or lack thereof. This journey is defined by the fact that there is a specific need in this country that I may have the tools to fill. It is larger than me and I am even a little impatient to hit the ground running in Cambodia. My impatience matters little however because I must take the deep breath of submission before diving into waters more expansive than myself. I cannot wait to update this blog as much as I can (It will probably be once a week or so) so stay tuned because there is more to come from Cambodia!