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.