Conscientiously

Brains at work!

2012-01-26T18:52:00.000+05:30

The kids continue to call the Creative Learning Center thelay lahn (play cars) but the glory of this room is not necessarily the name, noris it the numerous toy cars that are housed inside…it’s the educationalcapability of the space.

More often thannot, a child will come into the room and walk straight towards the book shelf or puzzlecabinet. They will opt for crayons andcolored pencils instead of a doll or truck. It’s days like those that I can sit back and just smile as I watch their brains at work.

The large rectangular open room is divided into 3 areas, thefirst is the ‘school area’, next is an open play space where they can spread outfor a game of chess, domino's, or the large alphabet floor puzzle.

They also use the middle space to get comfortable for educational DVDs...or the Zuma game on the computer (Five year old Wey, showing the big kids how it's done!)

The far end space is where all the toys are and some days it's packed!

But sometimes it's very quiet there. Here isChanthol looking very lonely in the toy area.

Then as I pan to the other 2 areas you can see that is wherethe action is.

Look out Cambodia, the Wat Opot children are growing upeducated and ready for change!!

Kñom Ot Mien Papa

2012-01-21T19:28:00.002+05:30

I do not have a papa is what I said to 9 year old SreyPo. Her eyes lit up and she looked at meand said “You no papa?” I replied“Melinda, no papa, Melinda ot mien.” Shethen said “You have mama?” With thoughtsof my mother so far away, I kept up the Khmerlish conversation with “Yes, mienmama, but she sleeps in America”. SreyPo gave me one of her extra large hugs and then thought for a moment and said “Kñomot mien mama, ot mien papa” (I don't have a papa, I don't have a mama) and then turned to face all the other little girlswho joined us and remarked, “Melinda ot mien papa, mien mama.” Exchanges of who had a mother (one of them besidesme) and who had a father (none of us) were discussed matter-of-factly. Most did not remember (or know) their father and many onlyhave vague memories of a mother.

On the 3^rd anniversary of my father’s death, Iwas surrounded by fatherless children. The day before, Miss Srey Po and I did not share this commonality, yousee, her father, her only surviving parent, had died that morning. We had just come from the crematorium wherethe death ceremony had been performed a mere 7 hours after his body had beentransported from the hospital to Wat Opot.

Srey Po, along with her older brother and sister lived atWat Opot with their father. Mr. Sabonhad been up and down for years. Asuper-thin man who walked around slowly but deliberately feeding the fish inour ponds every morning. He always had agood morning smile for me (with hands up in prayer position) when I would passhim while going to the kitchen for breakfast. Sabon had throat problems and spoke in a gruff whisper. He seemed as though he was carrying a largeburden on his small frame…and in a sense he was. Because of his promiscuity, he was the onewho brought the HIV virus home to his wife and it had killed her yearsearlier.

This was my first death experience at Wat Opot and it waspainful to watch. The beautiful aspectwas that the children took part in the ceremony from beginning to end. From lighting the fire under their father’sbody to cleaning the few bone fragments after his ashes had cooled. Everyone there (children and adults alike)had been through this process many times before, but for me it was new. Myheart broke as I watched his children. Iremembered the experience at my father’s funeral. How life seemed to stop and you go through themotions as if you are not really a part of all of it. During those days It was as if I was watchingmyself on a television, It was me butnot really me…a remote controlled version of me.

Srey Po, Srey Hong and Heang seemed like that to me. They lit the incense, they bowed, they tooktheir place in front of the ashes. Theypicked through the ash and found bones, they washed them etc, etc. It was sad to watch, but so healthy for themto experience. There is no uncertaintyabout death here. It’s final. Unlike a casket burial where the person ismade up to look their best; during a cremation, there can be no mistake aboutwhat is to happen to the body. There canbe no misunderstandings for the little ones about the body looking like it’sasleep and will wake up. Cremation is ‘in your face’ final.

Srey Hong the oldest of the three living at Wat Opot (thereare 4 or 5 more children older than her who do not live here) was visiblyupset. She was with her father in thehospital when he died. Usually Heang,her younger brother went with Sabon to care for him in the hospital when he wassick. (note: in Cambodia there is nonursing care in the hospital, a patient must have a family member join them (orhire someone else) to cook and take care of them during their stay). To my knowledge Srey Hong has nevergone. Maybe it was an unsaid thoughtthat he would not make it back this time, or maybe he asked her to come as notto put the possibility of his death on his young son who was the closest to him?

Wat Opot is a little quieter today and Wayne says it usuallyis after a death. Srey Po gives longerharder hugs, Heang’s smile is absent for the moment, and Srey Hong is evenquieter than normal. They are now ‘trueorphans’. It will hit them time and again as two of them will now wake up in a dorm room instead of in theirfather’s house; they will be reminded of their loss as time slowly moves on...until they wake up and 3 years will have passed.

Wayne wrote a short poem using a photo taken at the cremation which can be viewed by clicking here.

She who Walks With Purpose...

2012-01-13T07:47:00.001+05:30

It's possible that if I had been born in my native country hundreds of years ago, my name might have been She who walks with purpose.

One morning the 9 volunteers, Wayne and I were talking atbreakfast about the events of the night before. The volunteer dorm was full with 1, 2 or 3 people in each room. During the night there were the usual snorescoming from 2 rooms, but additionally one volunteer had a cold and was coughingoff and on and another had a stomach bug and was vomiting. I was awoken by a chorus of sounds…. gastronomic retching, nasal inhalation and deep hacking. Tossing and turning and finally falling to sleep only to be awoken onceagain by another noise coming from our connecting rooms.

It was these sounds that spawned the amusing conversationthe next morning as the volunteers were called-out trying to decide which soundcame from which room (or mouth!) As it wasdetermined that my room was quiet that night…the conversation turned to "What is Melinda's “annoyance?” After much deliberation, Gail finally saidthat the pounding of my feet on the tile as I walk from my room (on the veryend of the dorm) to the other end is quite loud (I walk quickly) thump thump thump thump one way and then thump thump thump thump back the way I came…like I walkwith a purpose….not really an annoyance, per se, but something that I couldjoin the rest of the group in.

Joking aside, I did notice over the next few days howquickly I seem to walk when I am alone and have a purpose. Usually I have a child or often many hanging on me or just holding myhand and I am forced to keep a slow pace with them. I try to live in the moment and to the bestof my ability, I do, but perhaps my moments just go by quicker than most? I have tried for years to ‘relax’, but I havefinally given up and I decided there will be a time in my life when I eitherneed to, or am physically forced to do so…but that time is not now. – Iactually tried to tippy-toe past Gail’s room a few times, but then laughed atmyself and continued on...thump thump thump.

For the time being, I’ll just have to be content with havingthe children slow my stride.

I am human.

2011-12-18T09:34:00.000+05:30

I am now human….well in the eyes of some of the children now. The other evening, I was sad…and upset, the "why" isn’t important (and doesn’t need to be commented on) but the effect of mysaid sadness was. During our nightlymeditation, I was visibly upset, my eyes were red and my voice cracked when Itried to talk.

The children had never seen me this way and they just stared atme. After meditation I walked to my roomto chill out and be alone but along the way many of the older kids stopped me tosee if I was going to be okay and I assured them that I was. Islept it off and the next morning I awoke refreshed and ready to start the day.

I was not preparedfor how the kids looked at me that day.

The little ones used their English skills to remind me of the nightbefore by saying “Melinda Cry”, or “Melinda Cry in Meditation”. I just answered, “Yes, Melinda cried, I wassad, but now I am happy”. They seemed toaccept that fine and we started our preschool class. There were a couple of times one of themcommented “Melinda cry – Today Melinda Happy”. When the older kids came home from school, they ran to me and asked overand over “Are you okay”. I assured themI was and added that sometimes I am sad, but then I think about it and becauseI can’t change the past, I have to be happy again.

I thought that would be it…that life would resume as usual…I was wrong.

I noticed a subtle change in many of the kid’s attitude towards me, nota negative change, but more of a realization that I am just like them, that Ihave feelings and yes, sometimes "Melinda cry". After a year of being silly and serious, funny and firm, a sisterfigure, a mother figure, a friend, and occasionally -momentarily perhaps- a foe, I wasnow someone who needs their sympathy. Iwas now the one who needed a hug and some love.

One young boy and I have a tentative relationship. He probably has one of the most depressingstories (if you can really judge)…being abandoned again and again by those who were supposed to lovehim; his family, those that were supposed to care for him; his family. His temper goes from 0 to boiling in a matterof seconds. He explodes, but with tearsin his eyes. He gets frustrated soeasily and I make a conscious effort to not set him off…but, occasionally when I can’tignore his behavior I have to reprimand him. I know the consequences of my actions…he willpretend I don't exist for days on end while I hurt inside and wish I could help himsomehow. This same little guy has themost fantastic smile when he allows himself to have some fun. A smile that lights up his whole face.

Well, my emotional state just threw him for a loop! He has made advances towards me more in thelast couple of days than he has in months. He walked by me and said something in Khmer with my name in the phraseand then cracked up at himself (at my expense, I’m sure) but then poked me inthe side and I had to laugh along with him. Tonight, he asked me for some more shampoo and when he went into hisroom to get his refillable bottle, he couldn’t find it. Waiting for the explosion; I held my breath and didn’tenter his room….but, instead, he looked at me and said, “wait”. He found a small plastic container thatreally wouldn't work, but I didn’t have the heart to say no. As we walked to the office to refill it, hepointed to the full moon and said “moon big”. Because, he rarely if ever tries to communicate in English, I stopped inmy tracks and said in a sweet sarcastic voice “Why, Mr. Ya, you speak English?”and he just giggled. When we got to theoffice, I handed him his plastic thing back and gave him a new little bottle ofshampoo and we wrote his name on it – in English and in Khmer.

It was such a wonderful moment, just he and I walking back to the dormsin the light of the full moon. I felt alittle apprehensive and hoped the moment would not be interrupted. My hopes came true as when we reached the dorm he told me again “thankyou” before going into his room. Iwanted to grab him and hug him, but I didn't press my luck and was content in knowing things between me and him may have changed, if not forever...at least for awhile. Patience is one of my strong points and sinceneither of us are going anywhere, there is time. My relationship with Ya would not have such anice turnabout had “Melinda not cry”. I wouldnot have received the more than usual hugs, arms around my waist and sniffs(the Khmer version of a kiss!) had“Melinda not cried”.

Yes, Melinda was sad and she cried at meditation, but now I am happy and is thankful for all the wonderful gifts being sad inadvertentlybrought about. I have once againlearned a lesson in letting go and is reminded of a card received by my parents many years ago that stated “Every Challenge is an Opportunity.” Neither they nor I could have imagined howtrue those words would become in my life.

Boats and Beauty.

2011-11-29T15:06:00.001+05:30

Many times a picture doesn't do reality justice…well, at Wat Opot, itseems to be quite the opposite. Wayneand I chat about how some of the photos we take, just don’t seem real. When you live in beautiful surroundings youtake things for granted. Although thereis plenty of time to stop and smell the flowers here, I have to consciouslytake a look at the beauty that surrounds me. Be it the face of a child, our spectacular sunsets, or a lotus flowerblooming; being aware of what’s going around directly in front of me, at thatmoment is what I have to remind myself.

Once when I posted a photo of some of the kids playing with a cart, mysister commented about the bougainvillea bush and it’s gorgeous fuchsia coloredflowers in the background; something Ididn’t even ‘see’ in the photo. Iremember that photo when I look at things now. What do I really ‘see’? Wewatched the movie, "Avatar" again the other evening and their saying “I see you”which is kind of like “Namaste” in a way; refers to really SEEING what’s infront of you, not just with your eyes but with your heart– made me think aboutthat photo.

The process of not‘seeing’ works to our advantage occasionally - when we have unexpected visitorsto Wat Opot and didn’t have time for the kids to do a quick cleanup. I notice every small snack wrapper on theground; whereas I am sure no one else even notices them. Wayne and I (and whichever volunteeris up early) enjoy many quiet mornings drinking coffee with our breakfast atChanngs Café. The other morning we justsat and had a contemplation (of sorts) about our life at Wat Opot – how weenjoy such beauty (and quietness - when the kids are in school) each morning I used to drive to cafés with outdoor seatingin various cities I have lived in to get a small portion of the life I nowlead. I never thought about why I drovemiles to sit at Austin Java Café or walked a mile to sit at Le Pain Quotidien. I guess I found quiet solitude even if thecafé was noisy and crowded…

Earlier this year we had some young German volunteers and they helped the kids build boats from water bottles, bamboo, string and material. The boats havebeen proudly displayed in the craft room for months and finally I gave in tothe youngster’s constant urging and let them set the boats afloat on the smallpool near Channgs café.

Our photographs sometimes seem surreal; the photograph below is such aone.

When I download the photos of that day a week later, I just stared at them. Is life at Wat Opot really this idyllic? Such simplistic momentary beauty (whichconsciously passed me by) was captured forever through the lens of my camera.

Here are other photos taken as the youngest Watopotiansenjoyed their long awaited morning.

After a while the kids felt the serenity and, subconsciously or not,placed themselves a short distance from each other as they watched the boatsfloat aimlessly about.

Can life really be that simplistic? The answer is yes, at least for moments in time – if you do not becomeaware; to strive to be in the here and now, they pass you by. It’s never toolate to stop and smell the flowers...to watch the boats float...or Wayne mow the grass...

It’s dress-up time!

2011-11-24T07:15:00.001+05:30

Amongst all the goodies that Diane Bernowski gathered, packed up andsent with US volunteers coming to Cambodia, were dress-up clothes! WHAT FUN!! It didn’t take long for them to be put to good use…

Especially the rockin’ sun glasses.

The glamorous skirts are seemingly not gender specific; as Mr. SaOunwears his proudly while playing with his truck and high schooler Mengthy, dons one as well. Who says real men don’t wearpink and lace and see through tule!

And Ms. Venot, our infamous shirtless wild child, displays her lovelyattire.

Oops – got to remember those undies next time!!

Super-Cool-Princess Srey Nak wishes all her "Amerik" viewers a very very happy Thanksgiving day all the way from Cambodia!

Sugar cane drink

2011-11-18T06:38:00.001+05:30

Before school started I drove the high school kids to their school many times (pre-bicycles) so theycould get registered, check on their classes and teachers and sometimes (whichI found out later) they didn’t necessarily need to go, but just wanted to ridein the truck. On one of those trips, wecooled off in the heat with sugar cane drinks. It is such a refreshing natural thirst quencher on hot days –which aresneaking up on us again.

For a mere 500 reil or US $.13 you can trot across the street and watchwhile the sugar cane stalks are put through the grinder machine over and overagain while the extracted juice runs slowly out. Add a little ice and a straw and instantrefreshment and smiles!

Here’s the machine in action at Wat Opot.

One Day on Earth 11-11-11

2011-11-12T09:29:00.001+05:30

What did Wat Opot do for One Day on Earth, 11-11-11?

We loaded up both vehicles and took the crew to Phnom Chisor Mountain!

Once there, a quick roll call.

Then it’s up the 250 steps (not sure of the accuracy of that count but the kids seems intent on that number...although websites say 400 steps which seems more like it!).

And up…

And up! Those that ran ahead gotto rest waiting for us to catch up.

Yeah, we made it to the top!

Quick snacks and a quicker rest on the hammocks.

A greeting from the resident monkey – who is not quite fond of thechildren, but seems to have taken a liking to Wayne.

Wow, what a view!

Our first attempt at organizing them all for a photo shoot.

Then we moved to a nicer place – one where no one could fall off the edge!

Our youngest Watopotian was able to come too – even after the ruckus ofthe video's and photo's and missing her nap, she was a trooper.

More photo’s.

Then back to Wat Opot.

Singing a song outside at dusk.

and then a break before nightly meditation – I was honored with myperiodic lice check (negative!) by Srey Po and nightly short massage by Venot and yes…morephoto ops.

Wayne started meditation and it didn’t take long for Rortana to passout with exhaustion!

And then others followed suit…

A full moon and Lord of the Rings part 3 ended our productive day!

Shelter

2011-11-08T05:54:00.000+05:30

I looked out from where I was lounging on our porch and watched Samnangand Wat Opot gardener, Po, discussing something. Samnang had been gathering sticks and I wasn’t sure what he was upto. I watched Po helping him and mycuriosity got the better of me and I went to investigate.

What Samnang had learned from Po was how to tie the sticks he hadgathered, together. Previously Somnanghad been trying to balance them , but quickly absorbed Po’s teachings and beganto create his ‘shelter’. What promptedthe shelter? Who knows…maybe he wastired of sharing a room with 4 others, maybe he wanted a place he could callhis own, maybe he was returning to the wild?

Whatever the reason, he soon was joined by Davit and after passing hisnewfound knowledge on, the two of them worked diligently, tying, building andgathering leaves.

Soon the shelter was up….but decidedly...too small.

What to do?…I guess in their case, you get to work on another house. An extension ofthe standing house would be too difficult, so another house was in the works complete with a trail attaching thetwo.

Somnang carefully inspected his second building project.

But in the end, they both moved into one, as I guess being alone is not all that it’s cracked up to be J

RIP dear Pompous

2011-10-31T17:52:00.000+05:30

RIP dear Pompous, how you brought joy and laughter to so manylives. You are missed!

Pompous had not been seen for a couple of days when I got worried. I offered the kids a pack of noodles towhomever brings him to me. Usually I canget one of them to produce the feline with just a piece of candy, or marble oreven a sticker. When no one could findhim (in exchange for noodles!), I knew he probably was dead. Thereis no way that he would have chosen to go even a day without being tossed about by one ofthe kids.

Well when a week passed, I continued to ask if anyone had seen him…even though myglimmer of hope was pretty much faded. Threeof the little girls came to me and said they saw Pompous and he wassleeping. When I asked “Where?” theypointed off the property. Not knowingthe Khmer word for dead, I mimicked “Is he sleeping?” (hands together, cheekresting on them with my eyes closed). Andthey said “yes!” but then I said, “Waitis he sleeping or is he dead?” (eyes rolled back head cocked and tongue hangingout. That got few giggles but they said, “No Melinda,Pompous sleeping).

It was time for lunch so they couldn’t show him to me and I didn’tremember the conversation until later and I asked Kate the word for dead and weasked them again, “Is Pompous ngoab?”andthey said together “Yes”. I had known itwas true all along I guess, but hearing it from the children made it finallyhit home. I guess he didn't look like the way I described death... The one thing I realize isthat death is much more accepted here; especially with animals. It’s more of a matter of factcircumstance. Such that death is perfectlynormal; which in reality, it is. Everyliving being on this earth will die. Although some certainly sooner than others; some certainly way too soon.

His previous life must have been great for him to have found such aloved life at Wat Opot. Pompous gavesuch joy to everyone in the short time he was alive - changed a fewhardened (I don’t like cats) hearts - that I am sure he has been reborn into aneven more appreciated life! If he's still a cat, I hope he is in Texas in the home of Polly, Ed, or Dar and Martin!

Photo’s taken the first day he arrived on my doorstep and one of thelast photo’s I have of him - both with the animal lover Mr. Wey.

Holiday food

2011-10-29T07:00:00.000+05:30

During the end of Septemberthe Cambodia Holiday, Bonn Pchum Ben was celebrated. Bonn Pchum Ben is a Cambodian festival heldfor commemoration of the spirits of the dead ancestors, relatives and friends. For 15 days people take turns, offering foodto the monks of their local pagodas. During the first 14 days, people take turnsoffering food to the monks of their local pagoda in the hope that theiroffering will reach the souls of their ancestors by virtue of the monks’sermons. On the final day of Bonn Pchum Ben at every pagoda around thecountry, the offerings are dedicated en masse to the souls of the ancestors. Ifa family fails to carry out this important duty, a soul is cursed and willhaunt the family until the end of the year.

PchumBen photo courtesy of this website

At Wat Opot we were blessed (or was it cursed?)with the continuous sounds coming from the Wat (temple) next door. There was music, chanting, and a continuousflow of visitors pouring into and out of the Wat. Some families had a private session with themonks and two of our teens (brother and sister) invited whoever wanted to cometo the Wat for a special ceremony honoring their deceased mother. (who died ofAIDS related illness years ago.) Once wewere seated in front of a row of monks the teens made their offering of yummyiced coffee to each person and monk there. It was an unusual offering and a couple of the monks were probably wiredthe rest of the evening because I helped make the coffee and anyone who knowsme knows I like my coffee STRONG! Everyonebecame quiet as the monks began to chant. The ceremony didn’t last long, but it was a very special time for thesiblings and they were happy to have us join them.

As with any holiday in any country the days arefilled with food and Bonn Pchum Ben was no exception. There was a continuous stream of food broughtover to us as the monks couldn’t possibly eat everything offered to them. I didn’t partake in consuming most items as Iwas never sure whether it contained some sneaky little fish or other animalproduct, but there was one sweet treat, I didn’t resist. Not because it looked so appetizing -on thecontrary, it wouldn’t even make the list of my favorite foreign treats- butbecause it was intriguing.

Nom cheil (spelling?) is like a huge chunk ofcookie dough…but doesn’t really taste like it; it was sweet, but moregummy. I was talking to two of the boysabout it because I kept seeing small children chewing on blocks of dough biggerthan their face…and Doar mentioned that Vandy was cooking some. When I replied “Wha?” they said, “Yes, on theroof”. I have learned to believe most thingsthe kids say no matter how bizarre it sounds, so I said, “Please show me”. Vandy promptly climbed up on the boys dormroom and retrieved the dough from the hot tin roof and then climbed down withthe hot treat in hand.

As with many treats here, they are shared; so Ididn’t indulge in Vandy’s hot treat as it had about 50 bite marks in it andloving the kids is one thing, but gnawing on a large chunk of food that manymouths had gnawed on previously…well, let’s say I passed on that particularopportunity.

Later that day, I walked past the café and Iwas offered some of the sweet treat that had been fried! Putting the earlier version out of my mind(figuring the hot oil will kill anything) I tasted it prepared this way. It was much better than its rooftop version!

Usually this time of year many of the kids gohome to extended family for the long holiday, but this year many choose to stayat Wat Opot or their family didn’t come for them. This is also the one time of the year wheremany family members (aunts/uncles/siblings without HIV who did not get kickedout of the home/etc.) show up to pay homage to the child of their dead relative. They show up assumedly only because ofsuperstition (they don’t want the ‘ghost’ of the deceased to haunt them), notbecause they actually want to see the child. This year we had a very low turnout of family visiting. On the outside, the kids go on and you don’tnotice a difference, but deep down, there must be hurt.

I loved the holiday not only because of thefestivities, but because the staff were off for a week and many times it wasjust a couple of us with the kids day and night and with some of them gonethere was a bit more one on one opportunities. A week filled with food and fun…what more could you ask for!!

Rice Planting.

2011-10-08T09:18:00.000+05:30

A month or so ago Wat Opot made use of the rains that finally cameand planted rice in a small field on the property. Now we don’t need to plant rice; one of theperks of having amazing donors, but Wayne wants the children to experience whateveryone in the rural countryside does yearly.

The night before he informed the kids that everyone who eats rice must put in at least 2 hours of work the next day…as that was translated around theroom, some giggled, some looked on in horror and some sighed withresignation. The next day bright andearly every child I walked past said “Melinda eat rice?” and when I answered "Yes", they happily informed me “Melinda eat rice, Melinda work!”

By the time I arrived at the scene the second cartload of rice was beingunloaded and the first load planting was well under way.

For a little background on rice planting you can click here but for the cliff-notes version:

Earlier in the season, rice seed is tossed into small field plots bythe handfuls. This produces denselypacked rice plants. These plants arethen harvested and tied into bundles.

These bundles are delivered tothe fields where they are then planted by hand. This involves taking a couple stalks and plunging them into the water andthen shoving them into the mud on the bottom. (as Kate and Srey Oun demonstrate so nicely)

This is back breaking work when fields upon fields have to be planted.

But the finished field (and continued rain) assures rice on your platethe next year.

Back at Wat Opot,it seemed to be more fun than work for most. I gathered a group of the little ones andwent to work…after some serious persuading prissy Srey-I don’t like water-Nichto get in with me.

As the time wore on the planting...

Looked more like playing...

After all was planted, everyone gathered on the side to rest a bit.

But for only a bit as someone got the idea to go ‘wash off’ in thenearby creek, although by the looks of the water, it wasn’t really any cleaner thanthe rice field. But it was ‘new’ waterand watching them run and jump around it was questionable if they really worked hard enough in the rice field.

Just another example of the day to day happenings at the most awesome Vulnerable Children's Home in the World!

Lighter post!

2011-10-05T19:11:00.000+05:30

With the last post on the heavy side, I thought I would lighten themood a little and what better way to do it than with Cambodia’s mostaccommodating and photographed cat; Master Pompous! Look how creative volunteer Sabrina was in theCreative Learning Center!

Pompous is a CLC favorite and loves to pounce on unsuspecting toys or children; but he may have to step up his cuteness a notch because the girls have adopted 5 kittens ( originally 6, but the smallest one didn’t make it). Four had come from Pompous’ old stomping grounds, the Wat next door and 2 were born here (originally 3 were born on the property, but we don’t talk about what happened to one of them; do we Pompous – bad kitty! – on second thought, the tiny little tabby in the below shot is the one who died; the one who looked like Pompous..hmm..) He really was just too small and they were taken from their mother and dumped at the Wat way to soon.

Well the newest arrivals are now thriving and get plenty of play time with the kids especially the little girls who never seem to put them down.

They now come into the CLC and roam about until exhaustion. It was then that Pompous finally took a closer look:

Instead of cowering in the corner like a big baby!

But don’t worry Pompus, it will be a little while before the little ones are healthy enough to run and play like you do so in the meantime, you’re still everyone’s favorite!

And the King of your Domain.

But don’t get completely comfortable as the little ones are moving in and getting comfortable…

Never a dull moment...

2011-10-04T06:06:00.000+05:30

I think I love Sunday’s at Wat Opot most of all. The mornings start off with 8am Art class forour kids and some village kids as well, a quick clean up of theproperty, time for a little play time before lunch, then of course comes sleep time!

At 2ish the kids all settle down for Yoga classes taught by 3 of ourhigh school kids. Longdy with the olderkids and Srey Oun and Srey Lak with the little ones. Today, when I looked in it was one of themost beautiful and peaceful sights to behold my eyes. I would challenge anyplace on the planet tobe as calm at that exact moment!

Seriously how many yoga classes can draw in the rambunctious feline, we call Pompous!

I walked into Wayne’s office which had soothing music pouring from hisspeakers, and no sooner had I commented that this is my favorite part ofSundays, so relaxing, when a motorbike pulled up with a woman bleedingprofusely from her head. Her formerlywhite shirt was now a shade of red as was her skirt. Wayne had them take her to the clinic while Ihad the kids finish their yoga; although no one could really relax after theyhad run to the windows to get a glimpse.

With Kate in Phnom Penh, I knew I couldn’t be of much medical use; butI went to the clinic to see if I could offer some moral support to Wayne. I was not prepared for what I saw there. Laid out on the clinic table, the lady waslaying in a pool of her blood as Wayne tried to find the source of the bleeding which wasdifficult as her hair was all matted. Tomake matters worse, the lady was drunk therefore not content to lay still andlet Wayne work on her.

After a bit, Wayne made the decision to have her transported to the localclinic because her wound was large and with her mental condition he wasn’t sureif she had a concussion. This definitely wasn’t our usual in and outstitch-up cases. Since the men whobrought her had left; (stating they knew her but she wasn’t family thereforethey weren’t going to stick around), I was the only one able to drive her.

I brought the truck out and one of the Wat Opot men offered to go withher to the clinic and two of our teenagers, Longdy and Srey Oun (both interested in persuing themedical field after high school) jumped in too. Wayne had put a small blanket on her head andsecured it with gauze and they got her loaded up which wasn’t easy as she wascovered in blood and everyone was cautious about getting it on them. She had to ride in the back of the truck soshe could lay down and right before leaving two little girls came runningup. Word had gotten out and hergranddaughters had come to go with us.

The Bati Clinic is about 3 miles away once you get to the mainroad. The problem is that it is therainy season so the quarter mile of dirt road leading to the main road is horribly pitted. As I drove I was soconscious of every little bump as I knew her head was laying on the bed of thetruck. I went super slow but it doesn’treally help when the pits are huge and the whole truck dips and bounces.

Longdy was in the front with me and any other time we would havecarried on conversation; this trip though was silent which I was thankful forsince I was pretty emotional. You see,when the lady got in the truck and was told that I would be driving her to theclinic she put her hands in Namaste (prayer position) and thanked me up anddown. Drunk or not, she was able to givethanks for people caring enough to help. It was this offer of thanks that started my emotions rolling.

Once we got to the clinic she was laid on the outside covered walkwayon a wooden plank bed while the staff looked at her and took their sweet timedetermining her condition and who would work on her. The lady was in a daze at that point; justkind of lethargic. Her granddaughters(who were probably 6 and 8 yrs) handed her a clean shirt they had brought withthem. She was able to take off herbloody one and put on a clean one. Thatshirt didn’t stay clean long because when she took off the bloody one, shepulled off her head wrap with it and her head promptly started gushingagain. Finally, which seemed like 10minutes had passed; the staff prepared to investigate the wound. Since I had taken acouple photo’s of the yoga session, I still had my camera in my pocket so Isnapped a quick photo as discreetly as possible; I blocked out her bloody face for sensitivity.

I will not get to descriptive here as it was not a pretty sight; butthe doctor had to cut away her matted hair and then shave the area to bestitched. I was able to watch the wholeprocess (as did`about 25 other people/patients who wandered over). All was going fine until the lady startedsaying Ow-eee over and over and trying to sit up. Either she was delirious from loss of bloodor the alcohol, it was hard to tell, but they had to keep yelling at her to laydown. I then noticed that hergranddaughters were watching with strained faces. At that moment I suddenly got nauseous andfelt dizzy. I motioned for the littlegirls to follow me as Srey Oun and I led them to a snack hut so they could pickout something and I needed some cold water or I was going to pass out.

The little girls were so cute as they cautiously looked at all thechoices of chips, candy and such. Theyfinally made their decision and pointed to the little cartons of milk. With milk and water in hand we headedback. After downing half of my water, Ifelt better and watched the end of the stitching process; watched how Longdyhelped hold her down since she was thrashing about. The lady finally lay still with a contentlook on her face. I honestly thought shewas dead, but instead I guess she passed out mid stitch. If you recall from my post regarding Wey, there is no anesthesia here – you get stitched cold turkey.

We had planned to drop the lady off at the hospital and then head backto WOCC since her family was notified and on their way, but the doctor toldLongdy that we could not leave because we were responsible for her since webrought her. Like some hospitals in the US;they were not going to treat her unless they knew they would get payment, so wewaited. She had an IV in and headstitched up when her daughter and son-in-law showed up. There is no ‘care’ here to speak of in a Rural Clinic so it wasup to the daughter and granddaughters to clean her up; which again Longdyhelped. I really couldn’t have been moreproud of this young man than at that moment - his learned sense of compassionshown through. Compassion that is not ahuge part of their culture; as depicted by the men who dumped her off with us(for example). Longdy told me that hewanted to walk away because he was feeling sick watching but he couldn’tbecause he knew that he could help.

Srey Oun watched the whole process too and when I asked her if shestill wanted to be a nurse, she said “yes” and I told her she was much strongerthan me since I would not choose that profession because I get too nauseous andwant to cry all the time. Especiallywhen the lady calmed down a bit, she just kept staring at me…maybe she wasn’treally seeing me but I couldn’t break the eye contact until all of a sudden myeyes filled with tears and I realized people were looking at me. Then I had Longdy relay to the daughter andson-in-law that Wayne had said Wat Opot will take care of the medical expenses (since she mayhave to be there a couple days). Thedaughter thanked me in the same Namasteway; I returned the nod and then turned and took a big swig of water and triedto compose myself.

I wasn’t able to control my emotions so I motioned for the little girls to follow me and I took them away from the commotion. At the truck I offeredto open their milk but they motioned only to one. The smallest girl held on to hers andmotioned that she would keep it with her and then I watched them shareone. Does a child have to live inpoverty to have that kind of thought process? To save this possibly rare treat so they can have some later…or maybethere were more kids at home they would give it to? Maybe the one girl didn’t like it and I wasjust looking at the situation with rose colored glasses? In any sense, they took pleasure in lookingat the photo’s of themselves in my camera.

We left the lady in the care of the hospital and daughter and droveback with the little girls. Once again,I was emotionally drained and realized that it is a great thing that Wat Opothas a no-alcohol policy…not because you could get drunk and cut your head open,but that the only thing I craved at that moment was a drink!

Craft Room

2011-09-28T15:28:00.000+05:30

After a very busy couple of weeks with volunteers coming and going, I was able to spend a little quality time with a few of the children in the craft room. It’s easy for me to make a place, no matter the location, suddenly feel ordinary and become ‘just another place’. The newness is stripped away and normalcy sets in. Sometimes I go through the motions of life like a robot or zombie. Wake up, eat, work, eat, work, eat, check email, go to bed…rinse…repeat. It doesn’t matter if I am in Washington, DC, Colwich, KS, or Takeo, Cambodia. Life moves on and if I don’t take the time to stop and get myself back into the moment I can miss out on so much.

It’s moments like this one in the craft room that bring me back to the here and now and reminds me that I am occupying this space on the planet because I am supposed to be here. And why is that? Because all the events in my life have led me where I am and I can’t imagine being anywhere else in the world.

With an abundance of volunteers, there have been so many exciting other projects going on that it had been awhile since we dug into the jewelry. It had also been awhile since I had the time or opportunity to have some personal quality time with some of the kids. It was so nice to be with Kunthea and Srey Maov while they strung beads on the curl wire that Dan and Gabrielle brought out with them from New Zealand.

And with Wey and Virak creating wearable works of art with the chunky “small kids beads”.

Pompous joined us for a spell and patiently waited for Wey to finish making a play toy for him.

Priceless moments in life that fill my heart tank until it overflows.

Honey you are so sweet!

2011-09-27T07:32:00.000+05:30

I was in the Creative Learning Center when Srey Lak yelled for me tocome outside. When I went out there wasthis sweet lady with a bucket of even sweeter golden honey. Of course I didn’t know what the lady hadupon first glance, since the honey was in the bucket down below the comb andbees. This was the freshest honey I haveever seen and tasted!

The lady explained (and Srey Lak translated) that the honey is from herbee hive and she gave me a bit of honey comb to chew on to see if it was to myliking. After carefully inspecting the comb as to not inadvertently chew on adead bee, I put it in my mouth. It wasso sweet my teeth almost ached! My expressionmake her smile big…like “yep, another soon to be customer”.

I said sure, I’ll take some so I went into my room and came back with alittle jar tha previously held my coveted natural peanut butter which costs mea small fortune each month but that I choose not do without. When I gave her the jar, she commentedsomething like, this is all you want, but nonetheless proceeded to fill it up.

While she was filling it up, Srey Lak asked me why I only wanted alittle jar of it and I replied, that when that is empty, maybe we can have herbring some again. I was then told thatshe lives far away and will not be back out this way. What could I do but run back to my room andsearch for another container, one larger! I spotted a water bottle on the shelf, grabbed it and hurried backoutside.

The sight of the big container made the lady smile big! I guess she figured that this trip wascertainly not in vain. So under the watchful eyes of some of the kids, sheproceeded to fill me up once again.

Back in the house I reveled in my purchase; I might add ‘cheap’purchase because the last time I bought honey in the city, I paid almost $5.00 forsome the size of the smaller jar. I gotalmost 4 times that much for only $8.00, and this honey was hand delivered.

AND she threw in some bees free of charge!

Dividy Dividy

2011-08-22T20:41:00.000+05:30

Dividy Dividy, Melinda Dividy!

That's what I hear every night after meditation. The kids begging to watch a DVD. They didn't use to be so persistant...but when we received a large anonomous donation last month, Wayne said we could buy a good TV and DVD player. Previously we have tried watching movies on the 2 old TV sets we have, but neither one is very good. Either the picture is bad, the sound worse or the DVD player broken.

The kids are pretty easy going and actually never complained about any of it. They watched it on the tiny portable DVD player at times without a fuss, or on the computer monitor screen. That's the way it is here...they just accept things as they are.

But if we were going to watch (and actually enjoy) the movies with them something needed to be done. We purchased a large TV and player with a cart on wheels so we can wheel it into the office at night and lock it up (probably the reason the other TV's were so bad...50+ sets of hands messing with them).

We can also wheel it outside the kids dorm and enjoy the nice evenings. Those who choose not to watch can still play inside and not run back in forth in front of the show. Plus the older girls can still watch their Korean Music Video's uninterrupted.

We christened the new set with Men in Black - one of the kids (and my!) favorite!

We went on to watch some of the Disney Movies; Shrek, Finding Nemo, etc...but then the older kids started wanting to watch something a little more their speed. So the next trip into Phnom Penh, I picked up some classics E.T., The Goonies, Superman, and the Indiana Jones series. Those were a big hit, so then we morphed into Spider Man and Avatar. On the teen trip into Phnom Penh (which was funded by Kate's Summer Fun Fund), One of the boys went with me to buy some movies and at his request we picked up more action/adventure flicks such as War of the Worlds and 2012 (both big hits with all ages of the kids).

Well, since there are no copyright laws in Cambodia all the DVD's are only $1.50 we now have added about 25 more to our already large collection. The weekend brought us The Mummy and The Mummy Returns! I had forgotten how good those movies are!!

With the website I came across called Kids in Mind, I can now check out the content before watching. Major avoidance's are alcohol and sex and this site is great at describing exactly what's in the movies.

Tonight twe watched the documentary "Babies". Anyone who hasn't seen it; shame on you! It's great. I wasn't sure how they would like it since the action is limited to a baby falling down while trying to walk but the kids were so interested in watching the lives of 4 different babies from around the world (The US, Africa, Mongolia and Japan); the African baby was the biggest hit! For me it further confirmed the idea that less is more. Who really needs a house-full of baby gadgets, gear and stuff??

As usual Pompous enjoys the attention of a room-full of quiet kids!

Tomorrow's movie: Clash of the Titans!

This ride hurts my body!

2011-08-01T19:19:00.001+05:30

When my brother was around 6 years old, he joined the rest of the family on an amusement park ride called the Zambezi Zinger. It turned out to be a memorable occasion that we talk about 30 years later. He screamed at the top of his lungs the entire time “THIS RIDE HURTS MY BODY! THIS RIDE HURTS MY BODY!” as my equally frightened mother in the car in front of him tried to comfort him as my dad tried to comfort her.

An interesting fact: the Zambezi Zinger, like me, now resides in a foreign country. Some 6 year old now screams “ESTE VIAJE ME DUELE EL CUERPO! ESTE VIAJE ME DUELE EL CUERPO!” on La Broca in the Parque Nacional Del Café (Coffee National Park) in Columbia, South America instead of at Worlds of Fun in Kansas City, Missouri.

I bring this memory to the surface because similar to what this ride did to my brother, this life is doing to me...but it’s not my outer body that hurts, it my inner body; more specifically, my heart. The hurt is not constant; it comes and goes sometimes building up like the spiral climb of the Zinger and then plunging down the rails when you reach the top. Like the ride, it rips through the body like the twists and turns of the Zinger and then throws you into darkness like the infamous tunnel of the coaster. But as with all turmoil, it eventually slows down and comes to a stop. Like the thrill at the end of the ride; coming off a difficult situation leaves me with a sense of new awareness.

Ironically (or not) my last post was pure sarcasm about Kate and playing favorites. As the universe would have it, Wey got his day the following evening. At dinner the volunteers were just finishing up when some of the kids came rushing into the eating area with a deeply sobbing Wey. One look at his bloody hand and Kate jumped up. Knowing my limited health care knowledge, I resisted the urge to go to him and instead sat back and let her and Wayne take a look at it undisturbed. Wayne in his ever-so-calm way acknowledged that yes, it probably needed stitches and motioned for him to sit down for a minute so he and Kate could finish up. After being at Wat Opot and around Wayne for a total of 10 months, I do not question his judgment although all I wanted to do was run over to Wey and hold him. It didn’t help that Srey Lak told me that he had hurt himself near the volunteer dorm and went running to my door calling for me to help him; before they lead him away to the kitchen area.

Well, I finished eating and then went to the clinic to see how it was going. I tentatively stepped in and asked if I could do anything. Kate and Wayne had the surgical side under control so all I could do was hold his other hand and try to keep his head facing me while they worked away. It was everything I could do to not cry along with him. He just kept saying over and over that he wanted a bong (bandaid) but of course it needed more.

In Cambodia (as in other countries) anesthesia is not used on stitches. Basically you just endure a little (or a lot) more pain while you get stitched cold turkey. I’ve watched Caroline, Wayne and Kate all stitch up a head here or an arm or leg there feeling more fascination than anything else….this all changed when Kate stuck the suture needle into Wey’s skin. He was looking at me while we discussed how big the bong on his finger would be (BONG TOM) and suddenly he had this look of terror as he screamed “oh we oh we oh we” over and over begging me for a bong. I almost got sick! After watching Kate tie up the first stitch and hear Wayne tell him only one more, I knew that once again I had changed inside. I was not the same person who walked into the clinic minutes ago.

There are big life-changing events and there are small life-changing events. It doesn’t matter the size or devastation of the event that can change someone and make their path in life a little bit different. This event was minute in size and involved just a 5 year old careless boy, but it had the capacity to make me see the world a bit different. To change how I look at the human body and what pain (as well as joy) it can bring. I know I am tested all the time to see what I can emotionally handle. The death of my father put me towering over the edge of heartache; the death of my grandmother allowed me to see it in a whole new way. Watching a needle go into the skin of a child I love dearly (as small a gesture it was) made me ache inside wishing I could endure it instead of him. The next time it will be easier; the next time I will be that much more prepared.

In Peace Studies, I learned about disaster relief; about healing pain and suffering. I have read about man-made and natural disasters and how to respond with aid. In theory anyone can do anything and everything. In theory I can do it all. I no longer live in theory; nor do I assume I can handle anything…I can only hope I can.

The one thing I can be sure of, though, is that I am unsure about everything. That I can only keep moving forward, living in the here and now, in a compassionate kind way and let the universe guide me as I lovingly conscientiously continue to grow.

Wey endured and because he got his wish for a BIG bandage, he was happy with the outcome and the next day he was babied in the play room by the other kids and enjoyed his day in the sun.

Favorites??

2011-07-28T15:33:00.002+05:30

Hmmm…at Wat Opot we discourage openly playing favorites with a child. Miss Kate (who the kids call Cat, and the Khmer word for Cat is Chama) sooo….Miss Kat Chama is a long time volunteer and I assumed that she knew this...Kat is a nurse and with our recent sting of sick kids she was invaluable! A bug/virus hit Wat Opot with vengeance, knocking out 2 or 3 kids at a time. Kate was busy giving medication, IV’s and most of all her famous Tender Loving Care! I suspect some of the kids were so in love with her and her attention that they didn't want to get better quickly!

Well although I only have the utmost and complete respect for Kat and her medical skills, (so much so, I actually tossed around the idea of self mutilation so I could have the honor of being in her care and getting stitched with no anesthesia by her steady hands) In spite of my secret wish, I came upon a questionable site. Little Virak had been sick for over a week and it’s no secret that there is a very very special place in her heart for him. It’s also no secret that Wey has a very very special place in mine; but, when I came upon both sick boys in the dorm, I was taken aback.

Here’s the main room of the kids dorm with the sick boys laying around getting better.

But WAIT! Let’s take a closer look at the little guys. One of these things is not like the other.

Wait, let’s get even closer…

Can you guess which child is Virak and which is Wey??? Let me remind you again that Kate had been taking care of both of them.

Miss Kat Chama, we need to talk.

CLC part something…

2011-07-25T15:39:00.001+05:30

Previously in the Creative Learning Center...

Well, I finally brought the leggo’s out…and as expected they were a huge hit! I had brought many little sets to make individual vehicles and then Deb (ongoing volunteer and head of the Wat Opot Children’s Fund in the US) had mailed a box of goodies which included a bag of leggo’s. Anticipating a stampede, I kept the playroom low-key and only let in a few at first.

Amongst the lucky ones, Mr. Rith and Miss Kunthea with big smiles

Phanha working on his own and then helping Samnang 2 with his.

Mak Phan figuring it out.

Channey concentrating on her soon-to-be masterpiece.

Samnang 1 proudly displaying his finished product!

Hmmmm….maybe someday I’ll grow up to be a pilot….

Well, Little Nak, at WOCC the possibilities are endless.

Random Pics…

2011-07-09T08:30:00.000+05:30

Random Pics…

Meet Wat Opot’s newest super hero, Captain Plastic Phan!!

Chanthol and his scary Sister Kunthea (who is in the wheelchair because she hurt her hip and it was painful to walk)

My Nook eReader getting some quality time with the kids.

And what random pic’s would be complete without Wey and yet another animal friend (who unfortunately died shortly after this photo shoot; animals come and go quite quickly here)

Thanks for looking!

Wrestling babies!

2011-07-03T08:20:00.000+05:30

While watching some of the boys with the dolls, I decided to snap a few pictures of them playing so sweetly with them.

But then I caught a gleam in Samphos eyes as a sly smile came over his face.

More boys joined him and their voices rose.

Soon they were cracking themselves up as the babies were used for something along the lines of a WWF match.

When the dolls started being flung through the air; I had to spoil their fun and step in! Fun is fun, but the dolls are really cheap and one of them had lost its head (the boys watching the pieces fly apart saying "Sorry, Melinda!) and needed to be fixed once again.

Kids and toys go together like, well…like kids and toys! CLC Part IV

2011-06-28T09:07:00.002+05:30

Previous Creative Learning Center Posts: Part I, Part II and Part III

I have been gradually bringing out a few toys at a time and a few weeks ago I finally brought out the play food (minus the 2 fake bland chicken carcasses which I left at my mom's - really, they were ugly and completely not necessary...) and cookware which were a big hit the second they caught sight of them.

After the initial fascination with the fake food, they set to work making individual market stands just like they have in their village market.

Mr. Rong and Sopeak seem to have a sale on babies and insects!

Wey and Saon are driving their basket to the market,

While Mr. Chanthol is….well, being himself.

Virek is selling the farm,

while Miss Srey Nich drives a hard bargain!

Another satisfied customer; but can you really 'not' satisfy Saon??

As usual with our kids; they turn playful fun into learning experiences; in this case they took one of the vegetable books and flash cards to compare the produce with its English version.

Which led to finding live objects (such as our youngest Watopotian) to demonstrate the Baby card.

Not everyone partook in the marketplace; some of the older boys preferred instead to refine their chess skills (to continue to outplay the volunteers, I’m sure).

I have yet to bring out all of the toys which were bought with the donations from generous Kansans! Stay tuned!

Bittersweet post

2011-06-23T20:08:00.001+05:30

I’ve been meaning to post for awhile about the newest addition to WOCC. Actually it’s a new addition into the volunteer dorms…a little furry 4 legged feline; a little orange sad mess we called Pompous; because as Cora says “all cats are pompous”.

Little pompous was brought to me one day about a month ago. The poor little thing was found at the Wat (temple) next door and had a bad leg; which it kind of drug along when he walked. The kids said a dog had hurt it and it was so pathetic looking I couldn’t help but take him into my room. I had bought some dog food earlier for Fiona and Pompous gobbled it up.

He spent the first couple of days kind of hanging out in my room at night and playing in the dorm during the day. He quickly taught himself to use the bathroom to do his ‘duty’ when no one was around to let him out. Since there’s a drain in the floor, nothing could have been easier to clean up (in the house at least). I will admit that he did poo on Lindsay's pillow once...but I'm sure he only did it because she kept stating "I don't like cats!".

The whole 'don't like cats' thing is just a front I know; as everyone who has said that time and again ends up playing or holding Master Pompous. Even Lindsay eventually gave in and let him sleep on her bed during the day and I would often catch her rough-housing with him. (as she still stuck to her "I don't like cats" routine.)

Most days (when he wasn't pampered by the volunteers) Pompous could be found snoozing on a bed, playing with Wey or exploring the beads in the craft room.

If he wasn’t sleeping on my computer…

Then he was getting caught using it!

Since Puppy Fiona was still coming around regularly to hang out in our house, Pompous had to accept that his new home was not his inclusive. After a few normal hair-raising, or should I say fur-raising spats; and after close observation of her, Pompous soon learned to love Fiona too!

And they soon became the best of friends, playing every chance they got.

Well, so is life; all good things must come to an end and sadly enough the great adventures of Pompous and Fiona does not have a happy ending. Our dear (not so little anymore) Fiona has never been completely healthy. She would be sick and then bounce back..usually. A few days ago, she once again became sick and after a few days of being kind of lethargic, she left this world for places unknown. Pompous we welcome you (well, Wayne doesn’t really!) and Fiona we wish you the best in your next life and I hope we meet again.

Tommy's voice visits Wat Opot!

2011-06-17T01:13:00.002+05:30

I snapped this photo of the kids during our 10ish minute meditation we have every night before snack.

We started out having it in the kids dorm, but moved it to the kitchen area since it's a much bigger space,

but with the new volunteer dorm construction; the materials are stored in there so we had to move it back to the kids dorm. The smaller kids are in the adjoining room as we just don't all fit in one room there.

We don't discriminate...any living being is invited - furry 4-legged ones too!!

Meditation is directly after play time, but before bath time...who says you have to have a clean clear body to have a clean clear mind?

I met a wonderful special man while traveling briefly in London in 2006. We became internet friends and as people come and go in my life; Tommy is one that has stayed close to my heart with his genuine peaceful and kind nature. Tommy writes songs from his home in Sweden and some of his tunes really connect with a special part of my soul. He recently sent me one which is no exception. His songs have followed me from country to country and have entertained an international audience along the way.

I decided to share his touching voice with Cambodia during meditation last night. The following video (a portion of the whole song) does not show the kids very well, but Tommy's voice rings clear and you can see how his voice slowly soothed everyone as they sat quietly with eyes closed and hands in their laps. After the meditation Wayne announced that the song was from a friend of mine and everyone clapped. I guess we'll add this song to our list of meditation music.

To hear more of his tunes please click here.

Tommy, please keep those sweet tunes coming! :-)

RAIN RAIN COME AGAIN!!!

2011-06-10T19:56:00.000+05:30

It’s officially the rainy season…but not much rain in sight. Oh, we will have a down pour for a few minutes or more, but nothing to prompt the plowing of the rice fields. One afternoon we had one such down pour and although this one lasted only about 15 minutes, the kids (and subsequently Kate and I) took full advantage of the very brief cool spell and ran out and enjoyed the fun!

The minute it started the kids poured out of the dorm; with and without clothes.

They ran, slid, chased each other and of course climbed trees.

They formed groups as protection from the older kids who would make them fall and get all muddy…although everyone eventually got dirty.

Kate was mobbed when she ran out to join them! Not able to stay inside much longer, I snapped a photo and pushed aside all those adult words “don’t go out, it’s raining”, or “don’t get wet, you’ll catch a cold” and then ventured out in the pouring rain. After all, I’m an adult now so I can change up the rules, right?

Eventually the rain let up and we were left with big puddles that continued to keep the kids occupied for a while longer; that and making hand prints on our bodies.

Lastly, it was off to the pond to “clean off”.

Fingers crossed that is will happen on a daily basis soon…the heat is seemingly unbearable and to think that Wat Opot just got electricity last year! I did not have to experience uncomfortably hot sleepless nights without a fan to gently blow on me. Just a year ago, there were no computers for the kids, no wireless internet, no COLD water.

I count my blessing every night because just a few hundred meters from me could be families without the luxury of electricity, fans and they certainly do not have wireless internet. This is the reality I face. This is the reality I choose to live in. This is reality.

CLC part III

2011-06-04T20:18:00.001+05:30

Let’s see where did I leave off from my previous CLC post…Oh, with the tile being laid.

Well the tile was 1/2 way done and Pheap (the handyman here at WOCC) went to the tile store to pick up the 2^nd half of the order and in typical Khmer style they were out of that kind. But not only were they out, they were not able to get that same kind in anymore; something they had to have known when we placed the order. Sigh, what can you do?

The only thing we could have; we put in a similar pattern tile and hope no one notices…or as Wayne says “It makes for a good story”. Oh and for our troubles, they gave us a refund of something like $2.50 off of the $400+ order price! How's that for customer satisfaction!

What nice beautiful tile! WAIT! One of these things is not like the other…

Once the tile was in, one more renovation was to be finished before I could get my greedy little hands in the room. The back wall was in bad shape and would leak when it rained. Basically it was a half wall with chain link fence material on the top and woven bamboo mats had been put up to keep the rain out. Looking out from the inside it was airy and bright, but needed improvement.

Outside view

Soon the fencing came down (under Wayne's watch).

And a new window with bricked in sides went up!

And the ever changing room was cleaned once again!

Then the walls got a fresh coat of paint and I could finally bring in some stuff! The computers were set up first in the new and improved computer room.

And before I could even get the shelves and the current toy stock unloaded from the previous room, the kids started to wander in.

Soon, a little more organization was taking place and some more kids found their way in.

CLC #IV post with the completed room and photo’s of the children overjoyed with the toys I finally brought out of my suitcase (where they have been patiently waiting for over 3 months!) coming soon!

Crafting at WOCC

2011-05-25T17:16:00.001+05:30

The infamous Mary comes to Wat Opot one Sunday a month to do a craft project with the kids. The projects usually start out well….and then turn into anyone’s game once their imaginations and creativity begin to run wild.

On this particular Sunday, Mary brought the supplies to make paper necklaces.

And soon the kids were proudly showing off their bling!

And then their creativity!!

Come back soon Mary and bring more glue sticks!!!

Art Festival!!

2011-05-13T16:03:00.005+05:30

The children at Wat Opot have been involved in an Art Project for the past couple of years. The money to fund the project came from Germany to bring out the artistic talents of WOCC kids as well as some in the surrounding village. Mr Hout arranged an art fun day to let the kids from the newly formed Sunday morning class show off their talents.

That morning the experienced art students busily set up easels, canvasses and paint all around the property.

Soon the festivities began with the children drawing numbers to see where they will paint.

Let the sketching begin!!!

And then add some paint…mixed on a natural palette.

And a little more paint!

And some more…

Some help please!!

And Wallah! Some of the finished products (and their proud owners).

Soon all that was left of the art festival was scattered paint, beautiful leaves and bricks. After the break dancing contest, prizes and food…the physical art work will soon be shipped off to Germany, hung at Wat Opot and/or sold to lucky buyers, but the emotional remains will be carried for much longer.

The Path to Enlightenment is not Always Pretty…

2011-05-12T12:37:00.001+05:30

oh, what a life. On Friday, I was bragging to some volunteers how I never get sick; regardless of the country, food, etc. I just don’t get sick. This is true to some extent as the last time I was sick (really sick) was the week before I headed to Belize . I flew in from Austria and must have caught something from one of the many plane rides. I was soo totally out of it that for days I just laid on my mom’s couch and moaned while she took care of her newly turned 40 year old daughter as if she was a child. My mom is such a great care taker that if you had googled “mother of the year” the whole week of March 2nd in 2008, you would have seen her sweet smiling face proudly displayed. Seriously!

Anyway, back to my boasting. I suppress my ego now and try to live for the benefit of others; but now and again it rears its ugly head such as in the form of bragging. I awoke on Saturday with a splitting headache. I get occasional headaches but this one was so bad I was nauseous and couldn’t eat anything but a couple of spoonfuls of rice and beans. I laid in bed most of the day with Kate looking in on me from time to time. I hated missing the Wat cleanup and service and especially WOCC’s first official Girls Teen Night. Before Kate left to have a great time with the 5 teen girls here, she gave me a dose of codeine which you can get over the counter. I dislike medication; preferring to let my body fight it off, but after it hadn’t lessoned the whole day, I was ready to take anything. I downed the pills and fell back onto my pillow thankful for Kate’s caring soul, but also for the fact that since it was Sat. we had electricity all day; I would have wanted to die without a fan in this heat!

After Kate left, I dragged myself out of bed to the bathroom where I planned to take a shower (bucket bath) in cold water. I walked in the bathroom and immediately the saliva started flowing in my mouth; you know the feeling…the first sign that everything in your stomach will soon be free from its dark confines. I thought outloud “No, I don’t want to throw up with this splitting headach”. But no sooner were the words out of my mouth than the uncontrollable urge to purge raced through my body. I reached for the toilet lid, but didn’t get it open in time. I have never had projectile vomiting (PV) before and never really understood its power. I wrongly assumed that part in the Exorcist was a Hollywood stunt. Even my dad who infamously talked about his bought with PV during the cruise he and my mom went on seemed more like exaggeration than true life.

Cambodian bathrooms are not a place to dally the day away. They are a place to do your business and get out; basically what that means is that their bathrooms are more like a shower with a toilet in it. A small room all cement (or tiled if you’re so privileged) with a large bucket of water with small hand scoop to bathe with and a toilet. This worked greatly to my advantage as my PV was flung far and wide. Had I been at m mom’s house this time, I would have had to renovate the bathroom the next day, but here I was able to just throw water on everything as my lunch washed down the large drain in the floor. A little cleanser on the tile and floor and the bathroom was good as new. I then took to washing myself and couldn’t help but feel a little better both outside and inside as I stifled the giggles when I thought at what I just did. I emerged and crawled back to my bedroom still chuckling under my breath. I fell down on my bed, weak as if I had just run a marathon.

The next morning, I was up at 6am as usual and felt like a new woman. Luckily whatever had happened to me the day before was gone and I could go about my day. This was a good thing as I had planned to go to Phnom Penh that afternoon and then on to Siem Reap to meet a friend on Monday. As I was riding in the tuktuk to the city, I reflected on what had happened in the past 24 hours. From feeling like I was on my death bed to having the wind in my hair as I rode through the Cambodian countryside. I stopped to pick up some fruit at a roadside stand and watched as I was watched. Great smiles from young and old as they enjoyed my enjoyment of the sweet treat.

I couldn’t have felt more alive at that moment. I don’t really dwell on where I am living at a given moment. I just take it for granted that wherever I am is where I am supposed to be, but at that moment, I looked around me and really saw where I was. I again felt so alive and free! I saw the people working at the roadside stands, I saw the families on motorbikes passing by, I saw the little naked children playing while their parents worked nearby. What I saw was life; people who were only different than me in their physical appearance.

We may not speak the same language, but, everything else, feelings, thoughts, laughter, sadness, motion, was the same. I felt even more like I belonged and my ‘enlightened’ outlook on life was overwhelming.

The last 2 days brought on an amazing experience, but in the future, I think I will try harder to suppress my ego!

CLC Part II

2011-05-08T16:38:00.000+05:30

Well as we left off…over a month ago, the Creative Learning Center was cleaned and awaiting new tile. Did I mention that was a month ago? The one thing I have had to let go of in my life is control. Most can’t believe that I was a control freak; someone that MUST know exactly when something will happen and precisely how it will get that way. My stay in Nepal cured me of that…if it hadn’t I would have gone mad!

In the case of the infamous CLC, it was cleaned and beautified…cleaned and beautified that is until the workers got back in there! It was going to be difficult and time consuming to lay tile around all the walls, half walls, and built-ins so they did what made the most sense…they tore them all down resulting in one very large awesome room!

A couple of before/after shots:

And of the glorious large room!

Now finally the tile is going in!!

Really...good things come to those who wait...and wait...and wait...

Dog Smokes and Wee wee Puppy

2011-05-02T20:51:00.013+05:30

There are way too many dogs running around the property. Dog’s that multiply like rabbits, so it seems. Most stay out of the way of adults (foreigners included) because they are afraid of getting kicked around. I have been able to befriend 1 dog in particular. She’s the nicest dog on the property and will come to most anyone. Her name is Lucky and the kids all love her, too. She reeeeeeeeeeeally loves me since I bought dog treats in Phnom Penh the last time I was there. Lucky is no dumb dog; she learned right away that the early dog gets the treat. Here’s what I see many mornings first thing when I get up.

Yep, Ms. Lucky watching guard at my front door.

Or at least keeping a close eye on it.

And then she pulls a stop drop and roll when you approach…or in other words a “rub my belly” stance.

After a thorough rubbing down, she is then presented with her treat. Little Way usually comes running when Lucky is at my door, he loves to give her the treat. When he was into the miming thing; it was interesting to watch him explain exactly what Lucky needed…

Picture him running up to me with his fingers (such as a peace sign, but palms towards his face) making a motion to his lips and then pointing to the dog. I said, what is it Way, does the dog want a cigarette (while making the same motion he did). He said “yeah yeah!” of course not knowing what I was saying. After seeing Lucky take a ‘doggy snack’ I can see what he really meant!

I guess the word got out that I had snacks for vulnerable dogs because Sir Greedy showed up at my door one day.

And then the next with his sister (Madame Greedier)

Greedy and Greedier earned their nicknames because unlike Lucky the good dog, they snatch their snack from my hand, barely chew it, swallow it, and then run back to the door for more. It does no good to ignore them as they just make themselves at home.

I finally have to make a quick move towards the door and since they have not warmed up to me completly they take off…only to show up a little later of course…acting all suave and cool.

As a shout out to Ralphie Alphie (Part I and Part II) I was given his long lost relative yesterday by Seeto. She came to me and wanted medicine for the poor little thing. Since Fiona from the Harbour started the whole doggie 911 rescue, I guess Seeto figured all foreigners have a special animal wellness voodoo, so I took the wee puppy in and promptly named her FIONA!!! Hee hee

There wasn’t really anything wrong with her other than she was taken way too soon from her mother but nonetheless, Kate and I gave her a bit of an antiobiotic and I kept her overnight.

After getting up 2 times with her in the night, I knew I was not in the mood to look after a puppy, especially after cleaning up her endless puppy pee puddles and then slipping on a pile of her doo doo. I kept her for the day (putting in a couple hours in the craft room so she could relate to her name sake!) and after making sure she was eating and drinking (obviously the other end was working!). Late afternoon, I had Srey Mao take her back to Seeto’s house stating that she was not sick anymore…BUT also with the instructions that her name was now Princess Fiona!

Since she did steal a little of my heart, and since Seeto lives on the property, I will check in on her often.

Communicating in a foreign land..

2011-04-19T19:00:00.001+05:30

After hearing about my travels and countries I have lived in, the listener often follows with “Oh so you speak (insert certain language).” To which I usually reply “No, but I get by”.

Now in certain situations, “I get by” is a huge understatement…like the time I was going into the city and hired a tuktuk driver who spoke not a word of English. I thought I explained perfectly well (with motions) that I was not going to the airport (shaking head no while making an airplane gesture with my arm when he motioned with the same gesture), but that I was going to a hotel to sleep (both hands in prayer position with my head resting on them, eyes closed) and then the next day (finger making an arching motion) I will go to airport (airplane gesture again). The driver chatted with someone next to him then smilled and said “ok” and promptly took me to the airport.

One language I certainly can not say I speak is the language of Cambodia, Khmer…outside the most basic of words needed in a children’s home such as; “Eat”, “NO!”, “No electricity”, “I don’t have (money, snacks)”, and “Play cars”. Wayne on the other hand understands much of what they say, or can at least figure it out. Today at breakfast one such “I get by” conversation (in Khmer and English interchangeable) took place.

Some kids came to Wayne and said something about someone loosing keys. Since Chamroeun just pulled up on her motorbike it was assumed that she needed her keys. (background – Chamroeun’s set of keys does not leave WOCC. She turns them over to our care every evening and the next morning she retrieves them…most mornings the keys are handed over to some adult who will give them to her when she arrives).

After much back and forth something like “Lost keys”= who lost keys, “Chay lost keys” =Chay lost who’s keys, “Chay lost chamroeun’s keys”, the obvious question regarding why 5 year old Chay had her keys in the first place didn’t get revealed (or as least not to me). But it was deduced that Chay somehow had the keys and when he threw some trash away, he inadvertently tossed her keys into the garbage bin as well as his trash. The bin was then dumped by someone who into the rubbish pile (a stinking mess that gets burned regularly). As a few of the kids began to tentatively pick through the garbage, Wayne and I started poking around around as well.

It was hard for me to understand the situation; which would have had to take place in the span of about 20 minutes. How did Chay get the keys, how did he happen to throw them away and why all of a sudden did someone throw out that particular trash bin and if all the above did indeed happen, then wouldn’t they be lying on top of the trash pile, not buried underneath? I finally walked away from the situation because…well, it just didn’t make sense.

I kind of left it to "lost in translation" and went about my day. About an hour later I was in the play room with a handful of kids and Channey who isn’t feeling well had squeezed her little bottom onto the chair I was sitting on and was quietly watching me read from my Nook. I switched over to one of the children’s books I had downloaded and she listened to a story a couple of times before moving off the chair to roam about the room. I went back to my reading and she soon came up to me and said something in Khmer.

A simple one word sentence that (by the look of her face) I was too daft to understand. She said it again slowly and then made a miming motion over my shoulder and around my neck. When I apologized for not understanding; she let out a sigh and went over to a bin searching through some flash cards. She pulled out a large flash card with the number 5 on it along with pictures of 5 purses. A lightbulb went off in my head as I glanced at the desk next to me. In a bewildered tone said “Channey, where is my backpack?” Channey giggled and pointed to a pile of toys under which my backpack had been buried. I giggled back as I uncovered it.

I repeat, “I get by”.

By the way, I was told later that the keys were found in a tree near Chamroeun’s office. In contradiction to the late Paul Harvey, sometimes it’s better to not know “the rest of the story”…

Tonle Bati Lake

2011-04-13T16:31:00.003+05:30

What a day! Carolyn and Kate treated the kids (and adults!) to a day at Tonle Bati Lake, which is less than 30 minutes from Wat Opot. It was such an adventure! The kids were ready by 7:30 AM; although the bus wasn’t coming until 9. I think no less that 20 of them kept asking “Bati?”, to which I replied, YES, We will go to Bati LATER!.”

Finally, which I’m sure to them seemed like days had passed, the bus arrived and 37 children and 11 adults (4 ladies who work at WOCC, Me, Kate, our Aussie volunteers Clair and Monica, Carolyn and her daughter Alice and Alice's friend Chiara) scrambled on to find their special seat.

Once everyone was settled the journey began with anticipation and smiles.

Once we arrived negotiations were made and we settled on 2 little huts and quickly a couple of boards were laid across to adjoin them. It wasn’t long before the kids stripped off their clothes and dove in and I soon followed, although I preferred to swim a bit more modestly!

We swam…

And jumped…

And tubed…

Then the inevitable TUBE BATTLES began! Little ones, step aside - you will loose!

Alliances were formed…

Then they set off to explore.

Rice was brought from home, but lunch was bought and served by the tray-full by skilled women who obviously have walked this path many times and have learned the art of balancing full trays of food on their head.

It wasn’t but a mere 5 minutes after the children finished their meal that our little area of the lake was once more rowdy with splashes and tubes. I am not sure when it happened exactly, being from the middle of the continental US, but I became a water person sometime in my early youth and have never outgrown it. The water, not to mention the children, beckoned me in. And in I went! I am paying for it today though with sore muscles - but I wouldn't have it any other way...tossing, chasing, swimming the whole day was sheer bliss!

But by mid afternoon things became much more quiet and serene both on and off the water. As I watched some of them quietly floating or gazing off in a distance; I couldn't help but wonder what goes through their little minds. Do some of them have memories of a time when they enjoyed a day on the lake with their families before HIV/AIDS changed their lives? Are memories like that fading away; being replaced with joyful times in their new home and with their new caregivers? Can some never forget?

Delicious coconut water for 50 cents and enjoying the luxury of childhood (or for me re-living it!); a day when all troubles can be forgotten even if for only an afternoon.

CLC is one step closer!

2011-04-08T15:12:00.002+05:30

The Creative Learning Center (CLC) has officially begun to take shape. Wat Opot had the wonderful luxury to have a couple of Kiwi’s/Canadian’s and a couple of Aussie’s join us for a spell. I had been putting off the huge task of cleaning up the unused building because…well, it just seemed so daunting!

Nonetheless, the volunteers did what all good volunteers do best; they volunteered to clean it up!!! We gathered the kids into the room and explained just what we were going to turn this space into and they were totally gungho! WAHOO, let the cleaning begin!!

This is what we were up against; cobwebs, dust, dirt, grime, you name it, we had it.

Once we got started, I snapped this photo.

and then adjusted my camera using the flash! Whoa, that’s a lot of dust!!!

Quickly changing the flash setting (some things are better off unknown) I captured the little ones working away. Who knew cleaning could be this much fun!

Did I mention the formerly unused room was dirty! Look at that water – and yes those rags will soon be used to clean the windows!

The wall of windows seemed to be the greatest attraction; nothing like grimey dirty washcloths on glass (figured they could wash to their hearts content and not to disappoint their hard labor, later we could sneak in and clean them properly).

Even the smallest Watopotian, Ratana, was earning her right to play in the room once it’s finished.

Actually, I take it back, by far the greatest attraction was the rafters. Once one little agile form climbed up, there was no stopping the brave or daring at heart. I don’t believe there is a cleaner rafter in all of Cambodia! Once the stick thing didn’t clean thoroughly, the climbing commenced! They had formed a team of sorts with the cleaners at the top tossing down their dirty rags and runners on the floor catching, rinsing and tossing back up. I kind of quit watching as I shoved away the thoughts of ‘they will fall’ or ‘that’s dangerous’ or ‘BE CAREFUL’ which at first ran amuck in my mind. I have seen them climb trees and that metal is much stronger than some of the branches they scamper across.

Afterwards some gathered to help me wash out the dirty rags. Look how carefully Rit is watching Claire ring the cloth. He’s a little bruiser and was quickly deemed the strongest ringer!

An hour later or so, I went back in to clean some more and it wasn’t long before Virek, Chay, Rit and Chaney found their way in and, yep, wanted to clean some more.

After I shooed the little ones out, the adults got back in there to scrub the walls one last time (kind of removing the smeared dirt left by the little ones!) We also worked hard on the cement floor getting it as clean as we could! This could never had been finished in one day without the help of Claire, Monica, Gabrielle and Dan! I feel blessed to have the opportunity to meet such giving caring people!

Wherever I go I meet people of amazing aptitude. Along with the new acquaintences, I keep family and friends close at heart because in reality, I wouldn’t be the person I am today without having had (and continue to have) them in my life. Many things remind me of home and of those I hold dear. Be it the embroidered pillow case from my mother that I sleep on each night, the tiny little Buddha statue from a DC friend, or my nephew’s used shorts I wear, physical items have followed me from place to place and country to country.

One such item, or should I say items, that were packed in my case this trip came from my Grandmother who recently left her physical body and our world at the age of 94. She was an indescribable force and inspiration in my life. While going through her home after her death, I was given a box of wash cloths which I had a feeling I could use in Cambodia…not sure why I needed to bring them all the way from Kansas, since they could probably be cheaply bought here, but regardless of the ‘why?’, I brought them. When I started preparing for the clean, I remembered them still packed amongst the toys that will soon grace the room.

Those little cloth rags were put to good use! I could feel Grandma’s spirit all around me as little hands grasped her cloths and scrubbed. I imagined little hands under hers as she helped them clean. Soft aged hands cupping small young hands. Even as the children washed them later, I was sure she was watching me, watching me as her lips slowly curled into a smile, a smile that brightened up her whole face as only hers could. Grandma, I love you forever. This photo’s for you!