Today a very bad fire broke out in a little shop near the new market. It was a shop that I have never been inside, though one that I have ridden past several times; it is close to both the phone shop that I like and the place with the best coffee in town (which I have heard from 3 classes of students and learned through a bit of personal exploration). I know very little about the fire, though the rumors are that no one was hurt, even though that wasn’t the first piece of information ever volunteered for me, that it was caused through some faulty wiring, which doesn’t surprise me, and that there was somewhere in the neighborhood of $30,000 of damage done to the property and the goods inside. Pretty incredible given I cannot even imagine that much money in one building. I also know that one of my students either lost her home or her family’s livelihood or both today.
I know what you’re thinking…happy day story? Well, I went to look at the remains of the building at about 5:00, I saw a few things. In true Khmer fashion…when I went, after the fire had been put out by a fire truck – a real fire truck – there was a crowd outside the building like a carnival was in town. I barely stood out in the crowd. But there were a few children that noticed me. I recognized one of the kids from a few of the weddings that I’ve been to – he is a cute and always dirty little boy with a mop of ashy brown hair and a bright white smile that stands out with his dark skin – and he hangs around parties to collect cans (and therefore, cash) and grab some leftovers after the party guests depart.
He and a little posse stood in front of my parked bike while I assessed the damage and the chaos and they stared me down until I began to make some conversation with them. I said hello and they smiled. I said hello in Khmer and they giggled a bit. I asked for one child’s name and the others told me…none of them answered with their own name, just another’s. I asked what they had and in his young voice he asked me to repeat myself. Baat? (Yes for boys).
He had acquired a string of rubber bands woven together and was wearing it as a necklace that looped twice around him and fell to his belly button on both rings. I saw him later playing jump rope with the thing – and the string went over a foot over his head at its peak in the air.
Another couple of kids came, some older than his (perhaps) 6 years, some younger. A few younger girls were trying to carry a tiny little furball of a puppy and passing him around, dropping him once in the process, but generally taking good care of his very still body that seemed about the size of their torsos. Another kid looked like he had just eaten a chocolate ice cream cone (unlikely) and the evidence was all over his chin. I asked more names, they other kids filled me in, and I heard one of them tell another to ask my name, obviously shy or nervous or both at the Khmer-speaking-barang-girl in front of them. I told them my Khmer name, Bopha (the flower of poetry), and as they giggled and repeated my answer I heard one boy say neakroo, teacher.
I didn’t immediately recognize this particular boy, but he spoke more, saying, she is a teacher, she came to the primary school. The boy was there when I went to visit the kindergarteners with their teacher, my friend. I was more than shocked that this boy could remember such a thing after so much time has passed, but also so happy that I made some impression on a single child in the town. I hope to influence more as my time passes here…it is easy as you settle into life here to forget that you may make a difference with just a few hours of your time, that sometimes the things that you forget someone will remember for days or weeks or years to come, that it may influence the life that they choose to lead.
*Bonus info: My friend the kindergarten teacher got married just a few days ago to a very sweet and tall boy from Siem Riep, and he was very thrilled to speak a little English with me. The wedding was a food and music-filled festival, as usual, with a lot of my teacher friends in various stages of sobriety or lack thereof, which led me to reflect on this strange piece of the culture that prefers daytime drunkenness to the evening party scene.
Plus…please note the photo – I feel like a giant in the thinnest flip flops I own. And to think they would prefer me in a heel.
I know what you’re thinking…happy day story? Well, I went to look at the remains of the building at about 5:00, I saw a few things. In true Khmer fashion…when I went, after the fire had been put out by a fire truck – a real fire truck – there was a crowd outside the building like a carnival was in town. I barely stood out in the crowd. But there were a few children that noticed me. I recognized one of the kids from a few of the weddings that I’ve been to – he is a cute and always dirty little boy with a mop of ashy brown hair and a bright white smile that stands out with his dark skin – and he hangs around parties to collect cans (and therefore, cash) and grab some leftovers after the party guests depart.
He and a little posse stood in front of my parked bike while I assessed the damage and the chaos and they stared me down until I began to make some conversation with them. I said hello and they smiled. I said hello in Khmer and they giggled a bit. I asked for one child’s name and the others told me…none of them answered with their own name, just another’s. I asked what they had and in his young voice he asked me to repeat myself. Baat? (Yes for boys).
He had acquired a string of rubber bands woven together and was wearing it as a necklace that looped twice around him and fell to his belly button on both rings. I saw him later playing jump rope with the thing – and the string went over a foot over his head at its peak in the air.
Another couple of kids came, some older than his (perhaps) 6 years, some younger. A few younger girls were trying to carry a tiny little furball of a puppy and passing him around, dropping him once in the process, but generally taking good care of his very still body that seemed about the size of their torsos. Another kid looked like he had just eaten a chocolate ice cream cone (unlikely) and the evidence was all over his chin. I asked more names, they other kids filled me in, and I heard one of them tell another to ask my name, obviously shy or nervous or both at the Khmer-speaking-barang-girl in front of them. I told them my Khmer name, Bopha (the flower of poetry), and as they giggled and repeated my answer I heard one boy say neakroo, teacher.
I didn’t immediately recognize this particular boy, but he spoke more, saying, she is a teacher, she came to the primary school. The boy was there when I went to visit the kindergarteners with their teacher, my friend. I was more than shocked that this boy could remember such a thing after so much time has passed, but also so happy that I made some impression on a single child in the town. I hope to influence more as my time passes here…it is easy as you settle into life here to forget that you may make a difference with just a few hours of your time, that sometimes the things that you forget someone will remember for days or weeks or years to come, that it may influence the life that they choose to lead.
*Bonus info: My friend the kindergarten teacher got married just a few days ago to a very sweet and tall boy from Siem Riep, and he was very thrilled to speak a little English with me. The wedding was a food and music-filled festival, as usual, with a lot of my teacher friends in various stages of sobriety or lack thereof, which led me to reflect on this strange piece of the culture that prefers daytime drunkenness to the evening party scene.
Plus…please note the photo – I feel like a giant in the thinnest flip flops I own. And to think they would prefer me in a heel.
1 comment:
I hope to influence more as my time passes here…it is easy as you settle into life here to forget that you may make a difference with just a few hours of your time, that sometimes the things that you forget someone will remember for days or weeks or years to come, that it may influence the life that they choose to lead.
Of course you will influence people! You are an amazing person, with alot of gifts to offer everyone you meet! And I'm not just saying that because I was your second mother...:) It's true, and I'm sure you are making a big impact on the people that you are working with every day.
Love (your american sister)
Becca :)
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