Limbo and my life in it

10.4.2008
So much has happened in the past few days that I barely know where to begin. Life here in Cambodia has taken some sort of turn that has thrown me into a new dimension and I – wow. Things aren’t that bad. After all, as of some 12 hours ago, I am officially a volunteer. I find that pretty amazing and wonderful. On top of that, I will be celebrating the number 22 here in a few days (however, it will be by myself because it will be the third day at site…) and on top of that, life is great because the weather is cooler than usual and things have gone pretty well. Of course, the fact that I am at my new site means that I am not at my training site, which means that I’ve said my goodbyes to my old family in a tearful (on my part alone, mind you) goodbye. It’s true, I cried a bit, mainly because I saw Deidre’s grandmother struggle to hold back the tears as I went to visit for the last time and say goodbye. A few tears escaped her wrinkled face and her leathery hand held tight onto mine as she smiled with some broken Khmer escaping her lips. I also saw Dan’s usually boisterous mother fresh from a bout of tears with a ruby red nose and a weak and shaky smile as I gave her my last gift before I went to eat my last meal with my training family. Seeing strong women cry breaks my heart more than anything, so the day got gradually more difficult as the time slipped by. Seeing my room for the first time devoid of mattress and mosquito net and Kelsey stuff was also remarkable and I am wondering who will now occupy the life-less space. But. My family didn’t cry, and I gave a little hug to my host mother, and a sort of hug to my big sister, little sister, and (very culturally inappropriate) big brother…in public and in front of the other volunteers. He had (as per mother’s orders) driven the moto with all my things to the house where our taxi was coming to, as I, of course, rode the Khmer bike right next to him.

Koy, my brother, did not shed a tear, nor did my mother or sisters or father or other brothers. I understand though, having found out just a day before in a simple mother-daughter chat that my host parents were ordered to marry by Pol Pot. I didn’t know it, but apparently this was a common occurrence and they have stayed married and (I think) happy since about 1976. They tell me that they don’t love each other, but I think they laugh and joke around too much to not have some sort of affection for one another, especially 9 (plus me) kids later.

And then there were the bittersweet final moments of seeing Volunteers today. This morning consisted of swear in with me wearing an absolutely stunning hot pink lacey top and Khmer skirt and being sworn in amid school directors from across the country with their Provincial Office of Education reps as well. Our esteemed guests were the acting Ambassador from the Embassy, the country director of Peace Corps, and the brand new Minister of Education, who is amazing! First of all, he brought a posse of 8 some men who sat very officially behind the triad-of-important-people table, one of which was having a little trouble staying awake, just for awhile. Second, his speech was truly amazing, and he broke away from his Khmer to speak in sincere English about how for years the education system was destroyed because both buildings and teachers were targeted by the Khmer Rouge regime. He laughed with us about America and his travels across the country and told us about how he started, and yes…I mean started, the entire Ministry of Education. If there is one official that I would like to sit with for coffee…

One of the things I found amusing about the ceremony was the media, because there is very little sense of personal space with them. The videographers walked in front of the entire room to tape bits of speeches, audience members, and us (lots of tape of us…). In the states…I don’t think many of the cameras would work as close up as they were. Another interesting tidbit was the oath for swear in…because one sentence we all forgot half way and ended up needing it repeated… but then it was over and we took a few pictures and ate grapes and chocolate pastries. Life was good, and then we said some goodbyes of our friends considering we will not see anyone not from our district for a full four months. Because I lie so far north, and the majority of the volunteers live to the south…well, you get the idea. It is surreal. And things are about to get a lot more quiet.

It is exciting to think about carving out a little niche for myself. My own room, unpacked and mine for more than a month. But it also nerve-wracking, because life is serious now – constant image management, school work, teaching, learning, studying, living. I think it is…something…that as a gal fresh out of college, I am going to learn how to live entirely by myself for the first time right here in Kampuchea. The majority of the other volunteers know about rent and work and work and life and I will know it first off here. I’ll come back in two years and have to learn how to function all over again, that time without the Peace Corps rules and protection. I dread that a little, similar to the way that I dread coming back in Iowa winter given the fact that I can freeze with a simple Air-Con. I hope that I will once again be able to enjoy the snow (and milk…because the milk here comes from a can and is so thick and sugary that I can practically feel the cavities forming).