Date: Fri, 25 Aug 2000 03:23:56 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jay Schneider
Subject: still in Cambodia…(but not for long)
Another installment in my continuing Cambodian adventures. Once again, if you’re not a native English speaker, I’m sorry. If you’re not interested, too bad. And if you’re not sure who I am, then perhaps you shouldn’t be reading this…
After a teary-eyed good-bye (rather silly, because the girls were asleep, and the Scottish couple were in another room, so I was the only one awake to say good-bye to), I parted with my Angkor travel buddies and set off alone for Phnom Penh. (Okay, the British couple was with me, so that whole setting off “alone” thing was bunk). We had decided to take the boat, while the others chose to further abuse themselves with another pick-up truck ride.
The boat trip was nice, though I highly recommend not falling asleep without sun protection on your super-white legs which then become purple (with capital “P” for pain!) for about a week. I was unexpectedly greeted at the dock by a man holding a sign with my name on it, and identifying himself as” assistant to His Excellency Son Soubert.” (not to be confused with one of his three “drivers,” which apparently is the Khmer word for “bodyguard”).
Jumping to the present, I’ve just finished my 3-weeks of volunteering, and am in a far better position to explain my set-up (things were a little vague in the description of the work camp.)
Son Soubert is the son of Son Sann, former Prime Minister of Cambodia, and major political bigwig. Son Soubert, though not as politically great as his father (political small-wig?), was vice-president for a spell, but now is content to sit on the constitutional committee. He’s also a professor of archaeology, and currently teaches at a University in Phnom Penh.
A handful of years back, when the refugees started returning from Thailand, they were all promised land for their homes. The Son Soubert and his father, knowing this may not happen, privately purchased some land for the returning refugees. Only a few families took them up on their offer. Then the United Nations told them about the large number of orphans living on the streets, and the father-son duo created the “Peaceful Children’s Home at Sre Ampil (30 km SE of P.P.)” They also built some other centers in the country, but this was the one I worked at.
Initially, the Sons funded the center entirely with their salary from parliament, but this was not enough to cover the growing need. Several individuals and organizations from around the world have made donations (kitchen, garage, clothing, money, etc.), but the main, on-going support is from a French organization called (in English, anyway) “Act for Cambodia.” This group gets sponsors for each child, last year build dormitories for the kids, and each year sends a group of French students to work in the summer. My organization (Volunteers for Peace), sends an international group of volunteers each summer as well.
What’d I do? Play with the kids, talk with the kids,live/eat/breathe/yada-yada with the kids. Taught Japanese classes, and some English conversation (though I graciously left a majority of the English classes to the American elementary school teacher who came. I was quite happy to not teach English, actually.) We worked on the farm. We worked to build what will one day be a farm and gardens so the center can be self-supporting (currently they receive aid from International food organizations). We (okay, it was just the Dutch guy) set up a solar refrigerator. We painted the classrooms, we painted the dining room. We painted the storage room which meant scrubbing the dirt grime and old paint off the walls, which meant moving those 55 kg bags of rice, which meant disrupting the lives of the poor 15-20 mice happily living under the rice. We laughed as the mice whizzed past our feet, and the dogs came in to chase them knocking over the paint cans. We laughed as the poor geckos tried to climb up the wall, but since it’d been recently scrubbed, was too dusty to get a grip, and they’d fall down, often on the French girl’s head. I laughed as I realized somehow all the kids had taken all the paintbrushes, and I was left with the all-important job of saying “missed a spot.” The village kids laughed when Jean and I had to push start a very old, very used motorcycle. Jean, a large man at the wheel, and me, a smaller man wearing flip-flops. (we got it on the 5th try, the village kids cheered!) We rode three on a moto, to and from the nearest market, the “from” being interesting as we balance paint, lumber and other supplies. We slipped in the mud in the final week which reminded me it’s still technically the rainy season. I also learned that the mud can steal your flip-flops, but that doesn’t really matter, ’cause barefoot in the mud is so, so cool.
We did a lot. it was great. more stories to tell in the future, I’m sure.
The kids? Incredible. There are 117 kids, ages 5 – 19. The center tries to support kids throughout their education, and currently, 5 are at University in Thailand. The older kids help take care of the younger, they often teach extra lessons, and make major decisions about the running of the center. As Son Soubert explained, most Cambodians, after years of the Khmer Rouge and the Vietnam occupation, are not used to self-determination and democracy. He hopes to teach the children how they can help themselves, and in the future, help Cambodia.
The kids were very eager to practice English, and many wanted to learn Japanese (the classroom was full, everyday, with many students standing in the back). Never have I seen so many kids, so motivated to learn. Even the youngest kids would often sit in the classrooms, reading a book, or drawing pictures, seemingly happy just to be in an academic environment. I certainly have never seen such a demand for education an in the US or Japan. Unfortunately, the demand isn’t being sufficiently met. School is only half-day, so the teachers can work in the afternoons to support themselves. There are extra classes and private schools, but these cost money, and money is something most rural Cambodians don’t have to spare.
Anyhoo, I just left the center today, so I’m still a bit close to the situation, and my thoughts are kind of racing. 3 weeks seemed far too short, and went by too, too quickly. I wanted to stay, and felt I could do a lot more. But even though it was so short, I became very close with some of the kids, and I know I’ll have to try to pass through again, at least to visit, if not to volunteer again.
To tie up this, rambling, wandering, e-mail, it was an amazing 3 weeks, and definitely unforgettable experience.
What now? I’m in Phnom Penh for the night. I’m taking advantage of the big city to send out this e-mail (that’s why I’m hastily writing this), and then tomorrow heading south to the beaches. My visa expires Monday, and though I considered extending it to travel around a bit to some places that other travelers have recommended, I realized that I don’t think there’s anything that’s going to top what I’ve just seen and done. So, I’m heading south to make my graceful departure. A lazy day to relax on the beach will be nice, but my main reason for going is to take the boat back toward Thailand, where I’ll make arrangements to get to my next volunteer work camp…
Destination: Nepal!