1-29-09
It has officially been six months in country, and we PCVs could think of no better way to celebrate than to go to the Vegas of Cambodia (as one Aussie Volunteer described it) for a long Chinese New Year weekend. We also needed to celebrate the new inauguration of Mr. Barack Obama, and boy did we.
I made my way to the provincial town a bit early and went to see a model school that one of my American buddies teaches at. If there were a school more opposite than mine, then I have found it in that little place near my friend Dan in the Monkol Borei district south of our provincial town. The students, at ages ranging from 11-19 and all in grade 6, speak more English than the Grade 11 English teacher at my own school. They are clever, incredibly willing to participate, fearless, and generally amazing. Cory, their teacher, gets 4 hours per day with the same students, a fact which I am still unable to comprehend – I am lucky if I get four hours a week with any single student, and even in Khmer class we never had that much time. And so, this variety of students from poor houses in the district, whose only way beyond a life of farming or fishing or s
elling is their English, who appreciate their education with their entire soul, study and work for more. It is beyond words for me, and they have developed a close relationship with Cory, one that I am only at the beginning of with my students. Their school is the ideal for which all the PCVs are striving to create in a system that refuses it.
After that incredible day, with a very cool and goofy guy named Cory, as well as with a well-fed visit to Dan’s family, the three of us caught the student bus up to the big city, where we enjoyed some fine Khmer food and rest in our friends’ huge house, a massive concrete and tile masterpiece which used to be a guest house and has three levels filled with steep stairs in between.
And then, Siem Riep. It was me, Dan, and Anthony, taking our own taxi and picking up Deidre and Whitney along the way. It’s a long ride on a bad road, unpaved and rocky, busy with construction workers and trucks destroying their work. But then, somewhere on the way, the road becomes perfect, the houses begin to fade away, and you begin to see big hotels, Western restaurants, billboards, clean streets, foreigners, beauty unusual to the country that I know. We went to the guest house that was recommended to us, all while gazing out the windows in some uncertain amazement about where we are and what happened to the country that we were in.
After we checked in to the very normal guest house, we found (of all things!) Indian food, which was delicious and easily devoured. And then, some shopping, where I found a cute little dress that looks q
uite good on my newly acquired figure and where Deidre and Whit found similarly cute shirts that suit them very well. We got set for dinner and found ourselves walking into an arts and crafts fair, straight out of the pages of Western society. The girls had a glass of white wine and enjoyed the cool summer night (in January…) while the boys walked aimlessly around the stalls and played with the children who were hanging about the crowd. We wandered into the main part of town for some dinner, at the Paper Tiger, delicious as always.
In Siem Riep the set up is very interesting, with a main pub street and adjacent alley, full of cute or kitchy restaurants of all cuisines. There are markets for foreigners, packed with expensive silks and cheap clothes that the average Khmer person would not touch. There are statues and reliefs and pictures and anything that a tourist could want. There are peddlers that work their area of the city – including one boy who we saw on a few occasions, a boy with lots of English and wit to match. In fact, this boy, on the second night we saw him, asked me if I had a boyfriend, and I said no, and he said, “That’s because you don’t buy my book. If you buy my book, you will get a boyfriend.” It was an interesting comment for a 12-something boy to tell a perfect stranger, but his humor alone gave us the urge to buy what he was selling. He also called us out for saying that we have read books we haven’t, which I have to appreciate.
On day 2, there was a pleasant breakfast at a proceeds-to-charity restaurant, a nice relaxing café that one of the K1s used to help out with, a swim at a local bar/pool, and Mexican food with $1 Margaritas. Life is good in Siem Riep.
Day 3 had more food, pizza!, more fun at the bars, a visit to the supermarket (a real, live, HyVee at my fingertips, with packaged meat and dairy products), a phone call from mom and grandma, great times, great chats, great meetings with people that we haven’t seen for ages, and a generally pleasant time. A very good vacation, where we fit in, where we weren’t stared at, where English is one language of many, where we were the people watchers instead of the people watched, where we were back home for 3 days. But yet, we had the added advantage of knowing the language and knowing the ropes a bit more. It was quite lovely, though quite expensive, and the 5 bucks I got in the mail the day before we left didn’t last more than about an hour…
It has officially been six months in country, and we PCVs could think of no better way to celebrate than to go to the Vegas of Cambodia (as one Aussie Volunteer described it) for a long Chinese New Year weekend. We also needed to celebrate the new inauguration of Mr. Barack Obama, and boy did we.
I made my way to the provincial town a bit early and went to see a model school that one of my American buddies teaches at. If there were a school more opposite than mine, then I have found it in that little place near my friend Dan in the Monkol Borei district south of our provincial town. The students, at ages ranging from 11-19 and all in grade 6, speak more English than the Grade 11 English teacher at my own school. They are clever, incredibly willing to participate, fearless, and generally amazing. Cory, their teacher, gets 4 hours per day with the same students, a fact which I am still unable to comprehend – I am lucky if I get four hours a week with any single student, and even in Khmer class we never had that much time. And so, this variety of students from poor houses in the district, whose only way beyond a life of farming or fishing or s
elling is their English, who appreciate their education with their entire soul, study and work for more. It is beyond words for me, and they have developed a close relationship with Cory, one that I am only at the beginning of with my students. Their school is the ideal for which all the PCVs are striving to create in a system that refuses it.After that incredible day, with a very cool and goofy guy named Cory, as well as with a well-fed visit to Dan’s family, the three of us caught the student bus up to the big city, where we enjoyed some fine Khmer food and rest in our friends’ huge house, a massive concrete and tile masterpiece which used to be a guest house and has three levels filled with steep stairs in between.
And then, Siem Riep. It was me, Dan, and Anthony, taking our own taxi and picking up Deidre and Whitney along the way. It’s a long ride on a bad road, unpaved and rocky, busy with construction workers and trucks destroying their work. But then, somewhere on the way, the road becomes perfect, the houses begin to fade away, and you begin to see big hotels, Western restaurants, billboards, clean streets, foreigners, beauty unusual to the country that I know. We went to the guest house that was recommended to us, all while gazing out the windows in some uncertain amazement about where we are and what happened to the country that we were in.
After we checked in to the very normal guest house, we found (of all things!) Indian food, which was delicious and easily devoured. And then, some shopping, where I found a cute little dress that looks q
uite good on my newly acquired figure and where Deidre and Whit found similarly cute shirts that suit them very well. We got set for dinner and found ourselves walking into an arts and crafts fair, straight out of the pages of Western society. The girls had a glass of white wine and enjoyed the cool summer night (in January…) while the boys walked aimlessly around the stalls and played with the children who were hanging about the crowd. We wandered into the main part of town for some dinner, at the Paper Tiger, delicious as always.In Siem Riep the set up is very interesting, with a main pub street and adjacent alley, full of cute or kitchy restaurants of all cuisines. There are markets for foreigners, packed with expensive silks and cheap clothes that the average Khmer person would not touch. There are statues and reliefs and pictures and anything that a tourist could want. There are peddlers that work their area of the city – including one boy who we saw on a few occasions, a boy with lots of English and wit to match. In fact, this boy, on the second night we saw him, asked me if I had a boyfriend, and I said no, and he said, “That’s because you don’t buy my book. If you buy my book, you will get a boyfriend.” It was an interesting comment for a 12-something boy to tell a perfect stranger, but his humor alone gave us the urge to buy what he was selling. He also called us out for saying that we have read books we haven’t, which I have to appreciate.
On day 2, there was a pleasant breakfast at a proceeds-to-charity restaurant, a nice relaxing café that one of the K1s used to help out with, a swim at a local bar/pool, and Mexican food with $1 Margaritas. Life is good in Siem Riep.
Day 3 had more food, pizza!, more fun at the bars, a visit to the supermarket (a real, live, HyVee at my fingertips, with packaged meat and dairy products), a phone call from mom and grandma, great times, great chats, great meetings with people that we haven’t seen for ages, and a generally pleasant time. A very good vacation, where we fit in, where we weren’t stared at, where English is one language of many, where we were the people watchers instead of the people watched, where we were back home for 3 days. But yet, we had the added advantage of knowing the language and knowing the ropes a bit more. It was quite lovely, though quite expensive, and the 5 bucks I got in the mail the day before we left didn’t last more than about an hour…
1 comment:
i love reading your entries, because i can always feel myself slipping into your stories, like i'm really there :) i'm glad you had a good time :)
your american sis
Becca
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