In November my housemate/landlady got engaged; her wedding is planned for May at which time her husband will move in and I will move out. She said I could stay, but after living in Cambodia I believe newlyweds need time to themselves without other random people in the house. So, with the start of the new year I wanted to explore living options and take my time to find a place, a very different approach than I took last summer.
Last week I met Fred Kauffman, a former MCC Cambodia CR. Sunday we went to the Cambodian Mennonite Church in South Philly. It was a wonderful experience to sing songs in Khmer again, meet other Cambodians and explore the Cambodian community here in the city. Fred and I met a bit early for breakfast; however, the resturant he knew of wasn't open yet so we stopped by a corner store. After chatting with Dara for a while about his family and how often he returns to Cambodia, Dara showed us a noodle shop. The kwietauv was pretty good and the coffee even better. When we went to pay, the waitress told us Dara had already paid for the meal.
Fred and I had an enriching conversation...mainly about reverse culture shock, community, compliancy, and life after MCC. He encouraged me to look into the Damascus Road trainings offered through MCC US. He also encouraged me to look into Shalom House, an intentional community started by Circle of Hope in Philadelphia. Last night I ate dinner with Shalom House to explore options. Now I don't know what to do.
Shalom House was created as a way for Circle of Hope to live as peacemakers in Philadelphia. Each participant lives in the communal house, works a part time job and other time is used to explore how to be a peacemaker in this context. This can be anything to leading discussions, field trips, attending seminars or simply being as in the case of Heeding God's Call . I so desire being an active part of a community where I can invest in worthwhile causes. I desire to be part of a support network of those who have international experience. I desire to root myself in this city. But, what about my education? I came to Philly for grad school, though it hasn't been the fulfilling experience I thought it would be. Shalom House requires a 2 year commitment; I agree 2 years is acceptable since lasting change takes time. But what if I don't get an internship in Philly? What about the internships I've been looking at that have an international/minority focus? I can't enter into a commitment knowing I might not be able to fulfill it. Will I be able to stay on top of my schoolwork if I am also trying to be active in Shalom House? And do I want to switch churches just as I am forming relationships with WPMF? How can I tie nutrition into living as a peacemaker? Do I have enough faith to trust God in this?
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Sunday, January 03, 2010
be good to yourself
Through several conversations I've had lately I've come to realize I need to be good to myself. I've been back in the States for about 5 months now. I'm slowly beginning to grasp changes that occurred with my family and friends and how I fit into that. I'm rediscovering myself and finding this adjustment difficult.
Through these same conversations with others who have traveled and lived in a context outside mainstream America, I've found a common theme: these experiences place us slightly outside 'normal.' While the definition of normal can be debated for hours, I know I'm slightly outside the general consensus. Charles, Scott and I used to joke you couldn't live in Prey Veng without being eccentric to a degree. Perhaps. Or living in Prey Veng made us eccentric.
I don't think I realized how hard this year would be; so many formative decisions were made - leaving Prey Veng, moving to Philadelphia, going to Drexel, grounding myself in yet another context. And yet I still feel deeply connected to Cambodia. Over Christmas my brother and I were discussing the idea of home. He said home is a metaphor for the place where the people whom you love are. My sarcastic response was great, I have four homes. Unfortunately they are in opposite parts of the world. And, as I travel between these homes, I realize I can never be whole again. Each time I leave a bit behind.
My life seems to be a disjointed mess of seemingly unrelated bits. I have found quilting to be a healing process of being good to myself in this transition. Tiny squares, rectangles and triangles are bound together with thread to create a work of beauty. I'm working on a sampler; each of the 20 squares are a different pattern. A few of the blocks I haven't liked; I don't see how the tiny parts will work together as a whole, yet upon completing the square, the fabric sings. As I piece together a square, I find myself communing with God to find some semblence in the ragged parts of my life. Looking at the blocks together, I find the sarong fabric truly makes the quilt sing. Perhaps, as the sarong unites my quilt, Cambodia makes my heart sing.
Monday, December 21, 2009
the end of an era
Saturday morning I woke up to a white blanket of cold fluffiness. It didn't come as a surprise as snowflakes began to fall Friday evening. However, 2 feet of snow was a shock; the last time we had a blizzard was in 1996. Yes, this counts as a 'blizzard' in Virginia. We had 2 weeks off school; I remember it well. Since it's been three years since I've experienced snow, my brother had big plans of burying me in it. While he didn't succeed, he did get a couple shots of me digging out the driveway and of my car decorated as a snowman.
However, as I thawed out and tried to download the pictures to my computer, my camera card broke. Three years and my 1 GB XD card dies. I can't complain; my camera and its accompanying card traveled many, many miles over numerous different types of terrain in its lifetime. It recorded thousands of pictures of Cambodia, people and cats. It lasted through my MCC term and that was my original plan for it. But it would have been nice for it to last for the snow and the holidays. It's the end of an era, and I'm going through camera withdrawl.
However, as I thawed out and tried to download the pictures to my computer, my camera card broke. Three years and my 1 GB XD card dies. I can't complain; my camera and its accompanying card traveled many, many miles over numerous different types of terrain in its lifetime. It recorded thousands of pictures of Cambodia, people and cats. It lasted through my MCC term and that was my original plan for it. But it would have been nice for it to last for the snow and the holidays. It's the end of an era, and I'm going through camera withdrawl.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Family
I love my family and both sides of it-Myers and Buhrman. Growing up, my brother and I were the only grandkids far away (far away being 3 hours by car). My parents grew up about 30 minutes away from each other, just across the Mason-Dixon Line and their siblings stayed close by. When I was three my dad was transferred with his job to Virginia and here we remain; Virginia has always been my home.
Christmas is my favorite holiday. The Christmas story is one of my favorite passages in the Bible and I love the Christmas season – carols, candlelight services, giving gifts, the joy and anticipation of Christmas day. It also didn’t hurt that I would normally have 3 Christmases- my nuclear family, Myers grandparents and Buhrman grandparents. Four years ago when I was contemplating what would come after college, I figured I wouldn’t be around for Christmas for awhile. It turned out that I wasn’t around for the past three Christmases. It was the first time someone from my family wasn’t there. However, that first Christmas Eve watching the sun rise over the Gulf of Thailand in Kep, I had the blessing of my family to be serving God in Cambodia. They were at peace with me being gone.
This Christmas I will be home. For the first time in 4 years, my family will be together to celebrate the birth of Jesus. I can’t express the joy that bubbles forth when I think about this. The thing I missed most about Christmas when I was in Cambodia was listening to Grandpa Myers read the Christmas story from Luke. My brother even recorded it for me in 2007 and mailed the CD to me. It was the best present ever. I’ve been so blessed that my grandparents are still alive; there were points over the past three years I had my doubts. This Christmas I’m so looking forward to listening to my grandpa read the Christmas story as we all gather around. All I want this year is for my family to be together and listen to my grandpa read the Christmas story.
However, my family, like most families, doesn’t always get along. I’ve always thought that even though we have our differences we still work them out enough to enjoy laughing, eating and talking together. But something has changed since I’ve been gone, and it’s not just marriages or babies or moving. It’s something bigger; differences are becoming irreconcilable. Mutual understanding is gone and grudges have taken the place of tolerance.
I thought my family was going to be together this year; I would get my wish. But no, it can’t be. We’ve become narcissistic, stubborn, judgmental and hurt. We refuse to travel 2-3 hours in a car. Seriously is that it? 2-3 hours? I know I’m the one that left; I’m the reason we haven’t had Christmas all together for so long. But, maybe, could we just have this one last Christmas together? Could we enjoy each other while we still can, before we’re gathered for a funeral? Can we avoid the ‘should haves’ and just do it now? It’s only sitting in a car. It’ll be over in a few hours. 3 hours is a trip from PV to PP. It’s not that far. It’s not a 2 day plane ride. We’re so close…can’t we just be together?
Christmas is my favorite holiday. The Christmas story is one of my favorite passages in the Bible and I love the Christmas season – carols, candlelight services, giving gifts, the joy and anticipation of Christmas day. It also didn’t hurt that I would normally have 3 Christmases- my nuclear family, Myers grandparents and Buhrman grandparents. Four years ago when I was contemplating what would come after college, I figured I wouldn’t be around for Christmas for awhile. It turned out that I wasn’t around for the past three Christmases. It was the first time someone from my family wasn’t there. However, that first Christmas Eve watching the sun rise over the Gulf of Thailand in Kep, I had the blessing of my family to be serving God in Cambodia. They were at peace with me being gone.
This Christmas I will be home. For the first time in 4 years, my family will be together to celebrate the birth of Jesus. I can’t express the joy that bubbles forth when I think about this. The thing I missed most about Christmas when I was in Cambodia was listening to Grandpa Myers read the Christmas story from Luke. My brother even recorded it for me in 2007 and mailed the CD to me. It was the best present ever. I’ve been so blessed that my grandparents are still alive; there were points over the past three years I had my doubts. This Christmas I’m so looking forward to listening to my grandpa read the Christmas story as we all gather around. All I want this year is for my family to be together and listen to my grandpa read the Christmas story.
However, my family, like most families, doesn’t always get along. I’ve always thought that even though we have our differences we still work them out enough to enjoy laughing, eating and talking together. But something has changed since I’ve been gone, and it’s not just marriages or babies or moving. It’s something bigger; differences are becoming irreconcilable. Mutual understanding is gone and grudges have taken the place of tolerance.
I thought my family was going to be together this year; I would get my wish. But no, it can’t be. We’ve become narcissistic, stubborn, judgmental and hurt. We refuse to travel 2-3 hours in a car. Seriously is that it? 2-3 hours? I know I’m the one that left; I’m the reason we haven’t had Christmas all together for so long. But, maybe, could we just have this one last Christmas together? Could we enjoy each other while we still can, before we’re gathered for a funeral? Can we avoid the ‘should haves’ and just do it now? It’s only sitting in a car. It’ll be over in a few hours. 3 hours is a trip from PV to PP. It’s not that far. It’s not a 2 day plane ride. We’re so close…can’t we just be together?
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Cultural Paradox
Happy Thanksgiving!
As I've spent the morning enjoying a tasty breakfast of waffles, sausage and Khmer coffee with my family I'm thankful for spending the day with loved ones. As my mom, grandma and I make pie (cherry, pumpkin and citrus meringue)I'm thankful for foods that not only nourish my stomach but my soul as well.
But not everyone has enough food, even in America. Last week I was listening to an intriguing broadcast on NPR (http://www.whyy.org/cgi-bin/newwebRTlookup.cgi). In the city I now live, 15% of people are food insecure. Food security encompasses more than just food; it involves transportation, seasonal availablity, cost, income, housing, bills, family structure and nutritional value.
On this day of planned gluttony, what happens to those who will go hungry tomorrow because of the excess of today? What happens to me if I just ignore it? The hunger doesn't go away. What happens in February when food pantries aren't on the top of the list for 'giving back'? What happens when the symptoms of a broken system are addressed but not the disease?
As I've spent the morning enjoying a tasty breakfast of waffles, sausage and Khmer coffee with my family I'm thankful for spending the day with loved ones. As my mom, grandma and I make pie (cherry, pumpkin and citrus meringue)I'm thankful for foods that not only nourish my stomach but my soul as well.
But not everyone has enough food, even in America. Last week I was listening to an intriguing broadcast on NPR (http://www.whyy.org/cgi-bin/newwebRTlookup.cgi). In the city I now live, 15% of people are food insecure. Food security encompasses more than just food; it involves transportation, seasonal availablity, cost, income, housing, bills, family structure and nutritional value.
On this day of planned gluttony, what happens to those who will go hungry tomorrow because of the excess of today? What happens to me if I just ignore it? The hunger doesn't go away. What happens in February when food pantries aren't on the top of the list for 'giving back'? What happens when the symptoms of a broken system are addressed but not the disease?
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
laughter
I decided to walk to campus today. Along the way I saw a sign. It said "Republicans wear tighty whities."
I laughed.
It made me think...I really enjoy laughing. And smiling.
There are no awkward laughs or smiles here...just cold stares.
I miss the Asian smile.
I laughed.
It made me think...I really enjoy laughing. And smiling.
There are no awkward laughs or smiles here...just cold stares.
I miss the Asian smile.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Fall
Today was a marvelous day...Charles returned from Cambodia on Wednesday and rode the train into the city to visit.(Unfortunately, Crystal was ill and stayed home.) We met the new couple that will be moving to Prey Veng and working with one of my old partners, NILH. They are a young, enthusiastic couple who are looking forward the the adventure of working in international development in rural Cambodia; I think they will do well.
After the meeting, Charles and I went to the Reading Terminal Market for lunch, bought honey and apple cider for my roommate and headed to Chinatown for bubble tea. It was refreshing feeling like I was back in Asia...ancestor shrines and all. It was also good to see another friend with whom I have many shared experiences.
Earlier this week one of my classmates said I always seem calm and have a peaceful presence. I was a little surprised because I often don't feel like I emit peace...more like a frantic bewilderment. But I noticed today that I don't stress about little things, or big things for that matter, so much anymore. Somehow in the greater scheme of things it doesn't seem necessary; everything will work out. And compared to life in Cambodia, life is relatively tame here....but it's still an adventure. I love exploring the city...this place surprises me when I least expect it. I found a building with Khmer writing on it in my neighborhood, between 46th and 47th. Fall has come to the city as the my tree lined street bursts with oranges, golds and reds. Biking invigorates my body as well as my appreciation for old houses, flowers and dodging cars. Farmer's markets are full of apples, pumpkins and spinach. The diversity of peoples, cultures and languages is comforting. This city has a rhythm of its own...mindful awareness simply allows me to join in the melody.
I used to hate fall, its arrival announcing the return of cold weather, gray skies and numb appendages. But autumn is breathtaking. My perspective is different; change is eminent and oh, so beautiful.
After the meeting, Charles and I went to the Reading Terminal Market for lunch, bought honey and apple cider for my roommate and headed to Chinatown for bubble tea. It was refreshing feeling like I was back in Asia...ancestor shrines and all. It was also good to see another friend with whom I have many shared experiences.
Earlier this week one of my classmates said I always seem calm and have a peaceful presence. I was a little surprised because I often don't feel like I emit peace...more like a frantic bewilderment. But I noticed today that I don't stress about little things, or big things for that matter, so much anymore. Somehow in the greater scheme of things it doesn't seem necessary; everything will work out. And compared to life in Cambodia, life is relatively tame here....but it's still an adventure. I love exploring the city...this place surprises me when I least expect it. I found a building with Khmer writing on it in my neighborhood, between 46th and 47th. Fall has come to the city as the my tree lined street bursts with oranges, golds and reds. Biking invigorates my body as well as my appreciation for old houses, flowers and dodging cars. Farmer's markets are full of apples, pumpkins and spinach. The diversity of peoples, cultures and languages is comforting. This city has a rhythm of its own...mindful awareness simply allows me to join in the melody.
I used to hate fall, its arrival announcing the return of cold weather, gray skies and numb appendages. But autumn is breathtaking. My perspective is different; change is eminent and oh, so beautiful.
Monday, October 12, 2009
church
I don’t know where I belong anymore. Let me explain.
I'm afraid Christianity in America has lost its passion. It’s become mainstream, selfish, narcissistic, bland, couch-potato, feel good fluff. Core values include promoting creationism, pro-life, heterosexuality and “saving souls.” These are good things to promote and I respect those who strongly believe in them…but I’m don’t fit in there. I don’t see these as pressing issues in my faith. I need a gut-retching, enduring, bold challenge to seek justice, love, peace, understanding, and tolerance. I need a community where I can be held accountable, not only for my daily actions and prayer life, but for the greater ills of society. The pain and hurts I’ve caused by compliance, compliance with a world that is inherently broken with systemic injustice. I need something real and tangible. I’ve just spent three years of my life in a corrupt country with few resources to bring about lasting healing; I need to know it wasn’t in vain. I need to know there’s still a community willing to take me in and care for me as I rediscover this strange reality of America.
I don’t know when I became a liberal...if that's what you want to call it. I guess I never realized that justice, nutritious food, a safe place to sleep and health care were all part of the liberal agenda. Why is America so polarized in politics? I’ve never been much for politics…it just seems like a bunch of people arguing and no one ever budging on their stance. Throughout history when a new sect of Christianity emerged, those who followed were labeled as radicals. They were bold, passionate, crazy, and liberal. Yet in the Bible Belt today, being a liberal is bad. Heaven forbid we think of the poor, malnourished or lame when policies are made. Has Christianity become so individualized that we talk to God, but not each other? God empowers individuals en masse to generate lasting change; it’s essential we work together…and yes, that requires talking to each other. Listening. Praying. Weeping. Celebrating. Greeting. Caring.
I never felt like I fit in well in established, mainstream Christianity before I lived abroad. Now I certainly don’t fit.
I'm afraid Christianity in America has lost its passion. It’s become mainstream, selfish, narcissistic, bland, couch-potato, feel good fluff. Core values include promoting creationism, pro-life, heterosexuality and “saving souls.” These are good things to promote and I respect those who strongly believe in them…but I’m don’t fit in there. I don’t see these as pressing issues in my faith. I need a gut-retching, enduring, bold challenge to seek justice, love, peace, understanding, and tolerance. I need a community where I can be held accountable, not only for my daily actions and prayer life, but for the greater ills of society. The pain and hurts I’ve caused by compliance, compliance with a world that is inherently broken with systemic injustice. I need something real and tangible. I’ve just spent three years of my life in a corrupt country with few resources to bring about lasting healing; I need to know it wasn’t in vain. I need to know there’s still a community willing to take me in and care for me as I rediscover this strange reality of America.
I don’t know when I became a liberal...if that's what you want to call it. I guess I never realized that justice, nutritious food, a safe place to sleep and health care were all part of the liberal agenda. Why is America so polarized in politics? I’ve never been much for politics…it just seems like a bunch of people arguing and no one ever budging on their stance. Throughout history when a new sect of Christianity emerged, those who followed were labeled as radicals. They were bold, passionate, crazy, and liberal. Yet in the Bible Belt today, being a liberal is bad. Heaven forbid we think of the poor, malnourished or lame when policies are made. Has Christianity become so individualized that we talk to God, but not each other? God empowers individuals en masse to generate lasting change; it’s essential we work together…and yes, that requires talking to each other. Listening. Praying. Weeping. Celebrating. Greeting. Caring.
I never felt like I fit in well in established, mainstream Christianity before I lived abroad. Now I certainly don’t fit.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
What now?
Classes started Monday. I enjoy them immensely, except for some minor confusion about my one class. It's a 500 level graduate class that is combined with a 300 level undergraduate class and my lab section meets before lecture. It's a bit confusing, but I think it will all work out.
I'm in Philly doing what I had wanted and planned on for so long...going to graduate school and working towards becoming a registered dietitian. But something is wrong. I don't seem to know who I am anymore. From a logical point of view, I understand the whole re-entry culture shock thing. I know my identity has comepletely changed with returning to America. I know I'm going through culture shock by moving to a city when I have lived my entire life in the country. I know I moved to a place where I didn't know anyone (I'm meeting new people every day).
Yet, there's still this innate fear that unsettles my soul, a fear that I'm no longer serving God. God took me to Cambodia and I had an amazing adventure serving Him. But I'm no longer doing that, so how do I continue to know I'm serving Him? Is grad school just a selfish desire that is distracting me from further bettering the world? There was no dramatic calling to study, just a path that was created for me.
When Jesus called his disciples he asked them to abandon everything - their families, jobs, reputations, social status, everything - to follow him. What have I abandoned? Hardly everything. Yes, in Cambodia I gave up some things, but I was able to return to a very similar life that I had led before. And now I seem to be baffled as to how to continue to serve God. And once more, I have this fear God will abandon me because I am no longer in Cambodia and am off pursing selfish desires. But that is totally ridiculous since He has said He'll never leave me.
I'm in Philly doing what I had wanted and planned on for so long...going to graduate school and working towards becoming a registered dietitian. But something is wrong. I don't seem to know who I am anymore. From a logical point of view, I understand the whole re-entry culture shock thing. I know my identity has comepletely changed with returning to America. I know I'm going through culture shock by moving to a city when I have lived my entire life in the country. I know I moved to a place where I didn't know anyone (I'm meeting new people every day).
Yet, there's still this innate fear that unsettles my soul, a fear that I'm no longer serving God. God took me to Cambodia and I had an amazing adventure serving Him. But I'm no longer doing that, so how do I continue to know I'm serving Him? Is grad school just a selfish desire that is distracting me from further bettering the world? There was no dramatic calling to study, just a path that was created for me.
When Jesus called his disciples he asked them to abandon everything - their families, jobs, reputations, social status, everything - to follow him. What have I abandoned? Hardly everything. Yes, in Cambodia I gave up some things, but I was able to return to a very similar life that I had led before. And now I seem to be baffled as to how to continue to serve God. And once more, I have this fear God will abandon me because I am no longer in Cambodia and am off pursing selfish desires. But that is totally ridiculous since He has said He'll never leave me.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
"sounds like you're a Buhrman"
or so my brother replied when I told him today that I don't like moving. And how can that be since I love traveling and experiencing new things...yet tend to utterly dread the process of transitioning from one place to another. Perhaps I'm just more of a country girl than I realized and I really am afraid of the big city.
Perhaps...
Or maybe I'm still trying to catch up on all of the things that have happened over the past three years...and things that haven't changed.
Like how bumpy my parents' backyard is. It's not flat! There's slight hills and little grooves even thought it looks flat.
Like how all of my Buhrman cousins are either married, engaged or soon to be. When did we grow up?
And, seriously, when did we grow up? When did I get into this much debt? How has my brother managed to save more money than I'm in debt for?
How do people my age own houses?
When did people become discontent with their lives and start to complain about everything. What happened to the joy?
How did I accumulate so much stuff? And it's not even valuable or useful stuff but yet it fills up a whole storage shed.
When did I become unable to transform my anxiety into words so that the only way they could escape was through tears?
I always thought the hardest thing I do was to leave and go live overseas. I now believe returning is where the true difficulty begins.
Perhaps...
Or maybe I'm still trying to catch up on all of the things that have happened over the past three years...and things that haven't changed.
Like how bumpy my parents' backyard is. It's not flat! There's slight hills and little grooves even thought it looks flat.
Like how all of my Buhrman cousins are either married, engaged or soon to be. When did we grow up?
And, seriously, when did we grow up? When did I get into this much debt? How has my brother managed to save more money than I'm in debt for?
How do people my age own houses?
When did people become discontent with their lives and start to complain about everything. What happened to the joy?
How did I accumulate so much stuff? And it's not even valuable or useful stuff but yet it fills up a whole storage shed.
When did I become unable to transform my anxiety into words so that the only way they could escape was through tears?
I always thought the hardest thing I do was to leave and go live overseas. I now believe returning is where the true difficulty begins.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
a new adventure
I have decided to keep this blog and continue to post what life is like transitioning back to America and my new adventure as a graduate student at Drexel in Philadelphia.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Food Security in America?
For my one class, I read "Garden-Based Nutrition Education Affects Fruit and Vegetable Consumption in Sixth Grade Adolescents" from the Journal of the American Dietetic Association. This study confirms that nutrition education along with gardening is more effective in increasing fruit and vegetable intake than just a nutrition class or no intervention. Although fruit and vegetable intake doubled, averaging 4.5 servings, this is still below the recommended 5 servings a day.
In the four days I've been home, I've noticed America is rather fat. One in three persons in the US is overweight or obese, using BMI. Food is everywhere; it's advertised, sold, and produced...everywhere.
In Cambodia, food was a life or death commodity. Overconsumption of calories is still rare in the provinces. Rice production is dependent of rainfall and flooding and if it's a bad year, there's no food. Food security is a huge issue and the one organization I worked with was working to meet this need. Integrated farming systems, including home vegetable gardens, rice production, and fish ponds were encouraged as a way to sustainably produce food for a poor family. The health of the family likewise increased by the consumption of nutrient dense food.
In America, food is also a life or death commodity. However, it's overconsumption that can kill. And yet, fruits and vegetables are not eaten in adequate amounts. For some places, fruits and vegetables are not available due to seasons, cost or dislike. But isn't this a food security issue? Shouldn't there be enough nutritious food available for everyone...whether coming from a rich country or a poor country?
Is there a correlation or am I just trying to see something that isn't there? Is this my way of grasping at something I can understand? I don't understand my home country anymore. Maybe I never really understood it but just assimilated because that was the easier path. The simpler path. The expected path.
Why do we travel? We do we move? Isn't it just easier to stay put? It is. But it's so bland, so dull. Challenges and opportunities for personal growth don't arise when we remain in one place.
I'm challenged by the stark contrast I see between overweight Americans and underweight Cambodians. I admit it's part of a greater personal struggle to try to tie this two worlds together and possibly understand each a bit better.
In the four days I've been home, I've noticed America is rather fat. One in three persons in the US is overweight or obese, using BMI. Food is everywhere; it's advertised, sold, and produced...everywhere.
In Cambodia, food was a life or death commodity. Overconsumption of calories is still rare in the provinces. Rice production is dependent of rainfall and flooding and if it's a bad year, there's no food. Food security is a huge issue and the one organization I worked with was working to meet this need. Integrated farming systems, including home vegetable gardens, rice production, and fish ponds were encouraged as a way to sustainably produce food for a poor family. The health of the family likewise increased by the consumption of nutrient dense food.
In America, food is also a life or death commodity. However, it's overconsumption that can kill. And yet, fruits and vegetables are not eaten in adequate amounts. For some places, fruits and vegetables are not available due to seasons, cost or dislike. But isn't this a food security issue? Shouldn't there be enough nutritious food available for everyone...whether coming from a rich country or a poor country?
Is there a correlation or am I just trying to see something that isn't there? Is this my way of grasping at something I can understand? I don't understand my home country anymore. Maybe I never really understood it but just assimilated because that was the easier path. The simpler path. The expected path.
Why do we travel? We do we move? Isn't it just easier to stay put? It is. But it's so bland, so dull. Challenges and opportunities for personal growth don't arise when we remain in one place.
I'm challenged by the stark contrast I see between overweight Americans and underweight Cambodians. I admit it's part of a greater personal struggle to try to tie this two worlds together and possibly understand each a bit better.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Thoughts on leaving
How do you pack almost 3 years into 2 suitcases?
How do you say goodbye when you're not sure when you'll return?
How do you remain calm and stable when moving halfway across the world?
How do you reconnect with those whom you dearly love, yet have not been part of their lives for so long?
How do you react to daily encountering Americans instead of Asians?
How can you go days without rice?
How do you interact with others as you sway between numbness and emotional overload?
How do you afford health care, rent, and food upon returning to the "Land of the Free"?
How do you convey stories of hope and hopelessness?
How do you leave when you haven't said all your goodbyes?
How do you let go when you are desperately clinging on?
How do you say goodbye when you're not sure when you'll return?
How do you remain calm and stable when moving halfway across the world?
How do you reconnect with those whom you dearly love, yet have not been part of their lives for so long?
How do you react to daily encountering Americans instead of Asians?
How can you go days without rice?
How do you interact with others as you sway between numbness and emotional overload?
How do you afford health care, rent, and food upon returning to the "Land of the Free"?
How do you convey stories of hope and hopelessness?
How do you leave when you haven't said all your goodbyes?
How do you let go when you are desperately clinging on?
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
I will miss you, Prey Veng.
For the past 2 years and 9 months, Prey Veng has been my home. And, fittingly so, I decided to have a small farewell party on Tuesday. The party was not exactly Khmer and not exactly American, more like a mixture of these two worlds. I rented a red and yellow tent, tables, chairs and table settings. I decided to have Khmer curry, fresh vegetables, bread, rice, fruit, cookies, and lemonade. I invited a mixture of people who have been part of my life in Prey Veng, though most people there did not know everyone as their paths rarely crossed. The evening was a great success, though I was having doubts around 3pm that afternoon; I had only made curry once before and was a little concerned the 30 people I invited would not like it or the food would run out.
My host family and I spent most of the evening together. As my host father was working in Kompong Cham and my oldest host brother is now studying in Phnom Penh, only my host mom, sister and youngest brother were able to attend. It was wonderful to see them again and, best of all, my host mom liked my curry! When I was living with them, I felt like I always did everything wrong - cut the vegetables wrong, bought the wrong fruit, didn't eat enough rice, etc. Last night, I did it right.
The other highlight of the night was two presents from Scott and Charles. I had secretly been wanting the "From Spiders to Waterlilies" cookbook and ranted in my last blog post about it. Scott and Charles got it for me. :) Also, for the past few weeks Charles had been putting a PV memory book together for me. Full of pictures of friends, market ladies, and various memorable times, it also includes space for people to write a short note. I haven't gotten to look at it yet, but I did peek and saw Charles also commented on certain pictures. The people who I have interacted with on a regular basis in PV are the ones who I have been thankful for over and over these past years; it's truly an amazing gift.
I can't effectively put into words the affection I have for this small provincial town. And yet, it's not the place that matters so much, but rather the people who have allowed me to grow with them, overcoming the initial awkwardness that characterized so many of my first experiences. I will miss you, Prey Veng.
My host family and I spent most of the evening together. As my host father was working in Kompong Cham and my oldest host brother is now studying in Phnom Penh, only my host mom, sister and youngest brother were able to attend. It was wonderful to see them again and, best of all, my host mom liked my curry! When I was living with them, I felt like I always did everything wrong - cut the vegetables wrong, bought the wrong fruit, didn't eat enough rice, etc. Last night, I did it right.
The other highlight of the night was two presents from Scott and Charles. I had secretly been wanting the "From Spiders to Waterlilies" cookbook and ranted in my last blog post about it. Scott and Charles got it for me. :) Also, for the past few weeks Charles had been putting a PV memory book together for me. Full of pictures of friends, market ladies, and various memorable times, it also includes space for people to write a short note. I haven't gotten to look at it yet, but I did peek and saw Charles also commented on certain pictures. The people who I have interacted with on a regular basis in PV are the ones who I have been thankful for over and over these past years; it's truly an amazing gift.
I can't effectively put into words the affection I have for this small provincial town. And yet, it's not the place that matters so much, but rather the people who have allowed me to grow with them, overcoming the initial awkwardness that characterized so many of my first experiences. I will miss you, Prey Veng.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Um, Thanks?
Last night was the MCC going away party for Amy, Christa, Karin, and myself. Overall it went well; my partners came, we had noam banh chao, and everyone enjoyed themselves. The evening was a bit surreal for me; it still doesn't seem real that I'm leaving Cambodia in two weeks. My partners still call me at all times of the day, I'm still living in my house, and I haven't said goodbyes yet. It felt like the party was for the others leaving, not for me. For one, the Groffs were missing. All night, it was just off...farewell parties were always special because the Groffs made it special by encouraging the MCC team to choose a personalized gift for those leaving. They also gave a mini speech about how thankful MCC was that the service worker gave so much for Cambodia. Last night there wasn't any of that from MCC. However, both my partners took me aside and thanked me for what I have contributed to their organizations. Bunrey from NILH, thanked me twice. I'll never forget them.
Typically when a MCCer leaves, the group gets together and buys them a small gift as a token of appreciation. We've given a wide variety of things to others in the past; I was hoping for the "From Spiders to Waterlilies" cookbook from Friends. Not only does this cookbook include Cambodian foods I love, but it also reflects the ruralness of my assignment in that the book focuses on typical foods that would be found in the provinces. However, I received the same generic gift as the others, a book about Phnom Penh. Phnom Penh? Ugh. I live in Prey Veng, NOT Phnom Penh. In the front of the book, it was written that even though it's a book about Phnom Penh, it could reflect rural Cambodia too. It doesn't. There are no pictures of rice paddies, water buffalo, palm trees, fruit trees, flooded plains, cracked dry earth, or houses on stilts. This is the Cambodia I know. The hard, rugged Cambodia of malnutrition, domestic violence, and dire poverty. The sweet, welcoming Cambodia of smiling people, verdant rice paddies, and communion with the earth.
I don't care about a book about Phnom Penh. It's not where I have invested myself. Prey Veng has become my home in Cambodia. I don't need some useless book to remind me of my experiences here; I carry them in my heart. As for pictures, I have enough pictures to remind me of those who impacted me. I have my own picture book of Prey Veng. What was really getting to me about this gift was the disconnect between the urban and the rural....basically a theme of my term. Over and over again, I got frustrated at how those living in the city just don't understand what it's like to live in the countryside as a single female. But, why should I expect them to understand? These are my experiences, not theirs. These have been my struggles; they have had other struggles. There will always be a slight disconnect between the urban and rural assignments.
Last night I think I finally realized I have been expecting people to be able to understand, regardless of geographical setting. I can't have those expectations; I am the only one who can understand my interpretation of things in the way I experienced them. I can tell my stories and see the responses, but I can't expect others to constantly connect with me. Perhaps it is starting to sink in that I'm leaving. People in North America can only understand my experiences here so much; in fact it's a much larger disconnect than simply between urban and rural, it's cross cultural.
I need grace as I step into this time of transition. Grace that will allow me to slip up and make mistakes, not only as I readapt to North American life, but as I try to effectively communicate my stories about this place I have come to love.
Typically when a MCCer leaves, the group gets together and buys them a small gift as a token of appreciation. We've given a wide variety of things to others in the past; I was hoping for the "From Spiders to Waterlilies" cookbook from Friends. Not only does this cookbook include Cambodian foods I love, but it also reflects the ruralness of my assignment in that the book focuses on typical foods that would be found in the provinces. However, I received the same generic gift as the others, a book about Phnom Penh. Phnom Penh? Ugh. I live in Prey Veng, NOT Phnom Penh. In the front of the book, it was written that even though it's a book about Phnom Penh, it could reflect rural Cambodia too. It doesn't. There are no pictures of rice paddies, water buffalo, palm trees, fruit trees, flooded plains, cracked dry earth, or houses on stilts. This is the Cambodia I know. The hard, rugged Cambodia of malnutrition, domestic violence, and dire poverty. The sweet, welcoming Cambodia of smiling people, verdant rice paddies, and communion with the earth.
I don't care about a book about Phnom Penh. It's not where I have invested myself. Prey Veng has become my home in Cambodia. I don't need some useless book to remind me of my experiences here; I carry them in my heart. As for pictures, I have enough pictures to remind me of those who impacted me. I have my own picture book of Prey Veng. What was really getting to me about this gift was the disconnect between the urban and the rural....basically a theme of my term. Over and over again, I got frustrated at how those living in the city just don't understand what it's like to live in the countryside as a single female. But, why should I expect them to understand? These are my experiences, not theirs. These have been my struggles; they have had other struggles. There will always be a slight disconnect between the urban and rural assignments.
Last night I think I finally realized I have been expecting people to be able to understand, regardless of geographical setting. I can't have those expectations; I am the only one who can understand my interpretation of things in the way I experienced them. I can tell my stories and see the responses, but I can't expect others to constantly connect with me. Perhaps it is starting to sink in that I'm leaving. People in North America can only understand my experiences here so much; in fact it's a much larger disconnect than simply between urban and rural, it's cross cultural.
I need grace as I step into this time of transition. Grace that will allow me to slip up and make mistakes, not only as I readapt to North American life, but as I try to effectively communicate my stories about this place I have come to love.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Come hear about Cambodia
There will be a get together in which I will be sharing about my experience in Cambodia...photos, stories, etc. Cake and ice cream will be provided.
Date: August 14
Time: 7 pm
Place: Hollowell Brethren in Christ Church, fellowship hall
14807 Hollowell Church Road
Waynesboro, PA 17268
Date: August 14
Time: 7 pm
Place: Hollowell Brethren in Christ Church, fellowship hall
14807 Hollowell Church Road
Waynesboro, PA 17268
Monday, June 29, 2009
get out of the boat...
Monday, June 22, MCC had the opportunity to attend the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia, otherwise known as the Khmer Rouge Tribunal. Guek Eav Kaing, alias Duch, is standing trial for “crimes against humanity, grave breaches of the Geneva Conventions of 1949, homicide and torture.” As part of the Khmer Rouge Regime, Duch was Deputy Secretary and, then in 1976, Secretary of S-21 (Toul Sleng). The topic for Monday was the daily operation of S-21. The morning was slightly boring as it was Duch agreeing that a certain document held his handwriting about a confession or order. The afternoon was slightly more interesting, and frankly annoying, in that the prosecuting lawyers kept asking questions that had been asked in earlier sessions and asking questions that were unrelated to the daily operations of S-21. The reasons Duch got married in late 1976 and how often he saw his wife were not central to that day’s agenda. For these reasons, in addition to body language and a lack of understanding Cambodian psyche, I was greatly disappointed in the prosecuting lawyers. The Trials have been averaging about $30 million a year and is now in its third year. I believe in justice, but I also see a stark contrast to the lives of everyday Cambodians.
I was impressed with Duch’s demeanor throughout the day and as I hear more about Duch from Charles. After Duch’s wife was killed during burglary in 1995, Duch converted to Christianity. After speaking with a journalist in 1999, Duch turned himself in to the authorities; he has taken responsibility for his actions during the Khmer Rouge. Likewise, he has been cooperative in the trial process. This may not seem like much from a Western point of view, but from an Eastern or Asian point of view it’s monumental. Saving face is the ultimate goal in all social interactions, even if there are differing views; for Duch to admit he played a part in the atrocities proves he has started the reconciliation process.
The following day, Tuesday afternoon, we had our monthly Prey Veng Bible study. Charles led a lesson on feeling overwhelmed and God and helping through the struggles. He focused on the story of Peter who trusted Jesus, stepped out of the boat, and walked on water. When Peter started to feel overwhelmed by the situation, lost trust, and started to sink, Jesus was there to reach out his hand and guide Peter to safety.
Duch has to feel overwhelmed, yet he shows a grace in the courtroom only Jesus could offer. By turning himself him, Duch stepped out of the boat of anonymity, lost face, and has been a vessel of transforming power.
I was impressed with Duch’s demeanor throughout the day and as I hear more about Duch from Charles. After Duch’s wife was killed during burglary in 1995, Duch converted to Christianity. After speaking with a journalist in 1999, Duch turned himself in to the authorities; he has taken responsibility for his actions during the Khmer Rouge. Likewise, he has been cooperative in the trial process. This may not seem like much from a Western point of view, but from an Eastern or Asian point of view it’s monumental. Saving face is the ultimate goal in all social interactions, even if there are differing views; for Duch to admit he played a part in the atrocities proves he has started the reconciliation process.
The following day, Tuesday afternoon, we had our monthly Prey Veng Bible study. Charles led a lesson on feeling overwhelmed and God and helping through the struggles. He focused on the story of Peter who trusted Jesus, stepped out of the boat, and walked on water. When Peter started to feel overwhelmed by the situation, lost trust, and started to sink, Jesus was there to reach out his hand and guide Peter to safety.
Duch has to feel overwhelmed, yet he shows a grace in the courtroom only Jesus could offer. By turning himself him, Duch stepped out of the boat of anonymity, lost face, and has been a vessel of transforming power.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
June
I figure it's time for another post. I'm down to one and a half months left in Cambodia and it's been a flurry of activity. For the past two weeks I've just wanted a weekend in Prey Veng where I can relax and just lay in my hammock; I only have two weekends left in Prey Veng before I leave and I need to pack somewhere in there.
Life has brought many surprises in the past few weeks. I will be starting grad school at Drexel in September. In a week and a half I'll be taking two more online classes as pre-requisites for my program. My MCC going away party is planned. I still need to work out some logistics for the party in Prey Veng, yet I've been dragging my feet because I don't want to face the fact that I'm leaving, and in a time of transition again.
I think I block out the bad parts of life; I really dislike saying goodbye. I'd much rather welcome others in and never have to be parted from those who have impacted me, some significantly and others only slightly. I hate the process of packing, not only must I leave a physical place where I have so many pleasant memories, but I must realize how much I've accumulated over a certain period, and despite how much I try, I will always be a consumerist.
I'm still trying to process everything that has happened in the past month. It all so fast! I was elated when I found out, yet despite having a 'plan' I believe I'm more frightened now than when I was going to have a fall garden at my parents' house. I'm country girl; moving from rural Virginia to rural Cambodia wasn't such a challenge for me. Yes, there was culture shock and other things to deal with, but I felt at ease as I was in a semi-comfortable setting. But moving from rural Cambodia to downtown Philadelphia? I'm scared silly. Likewise, I have no money and the minute savings I had is quickly fading as I purchase books and pay tuition deposits.
When I was making the decision on whether to attend Drexel this fall or to wait for the winter quarter, I felt a quite voice say "trust me." The last time I headed that voice I ended up in Cambodia. I figure, in spite of my fears, it's worth heeding again. I don't know where I'll live or how I'll pay for it or how I'll adjust to living in a city. But I will trust.
Life has brought many surprises in the past few weeks. I will be starting grad school at Drexel in September. In a week and a half I'll be taking two more online classes as pre-requisites for my program. My MCC going away party is planned. I still need to work out some logistics for the party in Prey Veng, yet I've been dragging my feet because I don't want to face the fact that I'm leaving, and in a time of transition again.
I think I block out the bad parts of life; I really dislike saying goodbye. I'd much rather welcome others in and never have to be parted from those who have impacted me, some significantly and others only slightly. I hate the process of packing, not only must I leave a physical place where I have so many pleasant memories, but I must realize how much I've accumulated over a certain period, and despite how much I try, I will always be a consumerist.
I'm still trying to process everything that has happened in the past month. It all so fast! I was elated when I found out, yet despite having a 'plan' I believe I'm more frightened now than when I was going to have a fall garden at my parents' house. I'm country girl; moving from rural Virginia to rural Cambodia wasn't such a challenge for me. Yes, there was culture shock and other things to deal with, but I felt at ease as I was in a semi-comfortable setting. But moving from rural Cambodia to downtown Philadelphia? I'm scared silly. Likewise, I have no money and the minute savings I had is quickly fading as I purchase books and pay tuition deposits.
When I was making the decision on whether to attend Drexel this fall or to wait for the winter quarter, I felt a quite voice say "trust me." The last time I headed that voice I ended up in Cambodia. I figure, in spite of my fears, it's worth heeding again. I don't know where I'll live or how I'll pay for it or how I'll adjust to living in a city. But I will trust.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
This morning started like any other day...making tea, eating breakfast, biking to work, talking with Dani, checking email. But what was in my inbox was unexpected. A letter of unofficial acceptance to the Masters of Science in Nutrition program at Drexel University. Shaking, I called Charles and told him. I typed a garbled message to Christa. Soon I told my mom. Was this really happening?
Sunday at church we read Psalm 33. When I got to verse 18 I stopped reading. Does God really look out for those who trust him? I thought trusting God by coming to Cambodia, he would take care of what came after. But I was confused. What comes after a service term? I thought grad school, but the more I thought about it planting a fall garden seemed more enticing. I can grow spinach and kale. I can have productive results, concrete results. Secretly I knew trying to attend grad school this fall was probably unrealistic. I mean, returning to the States, seeing family and friends, moving to a new town, readjusting to American life, and starting school all within a span of less than a month? Perhaps a bit much. Even though I wasn't accepted, I felt a peace. More than anything I knew God brought me to Cambodia, he HAS to take care of what comes next. Amidst the disappointment, there was a quiet peace in my soul. I didn't know what was next...where the road was leading. Or even if I was on a road.
So, now I'm back on that road; I have a plan. The news couldn't have blindsided me more. But what of the other seven MCC Cambodia volunteers returning this year? The paths before them are just as unrecognizable as my path was, and in some ways, still is. How is it that out of the eight of us, God has chosen to give me a clear plan while the others don't? My faith isn't stronger; they have hoped in God's love as I have. We all have the same desires of meaningful reconnections, purpose filled work and safe places to tell our stories upon returning.
Perhaps a fitting prayer would be the same as the final verse - "May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you." The same unfailing love that brings us through despair to awe of blessing.
Sunday at church we read Psalm 33. When I got to verse 18 I stopped reading. Does God really look out for those who trust him? I thought trusting God by coming to Cambodia, he would take care of what came after. But I was confused. What comes after a service term? I thought grad school, but the more I thought about it planting a fall garden seemed more enticing. I can grow spinach and kale. I can have productive results, concrete results. Secretly I knew trying to attend grad school this fall was probably unrealistic. I mean, returning to the States, seeing family and friends, moving to a new town, readjusting to American life, and starting school all within a span of less than a month? Perhaps a bit much. Even though I wasn't accepted, I felt a peace. More than anything I knew God brought me to Cambodia, he HAS to take care of what comes next. Amidst the disappointment, there was a quiet peace in my soul. I didn't know what was next...where the road was leading. Or even if I was on a road.
So, now I'm back on that road; I have a plan. The news couldn't have blindsided me more. But what of the other seven MCC Cambodia volunteers returning this year? The paths before them are just as unrecognizable as my path was, and in some ways, still is. How is it that out of the eight of us, God has chosen to give me a clear plan while the others don't? My faith isn't stronger; they have hoped in God's love as I have. We all have the same desires of meaningful reconnections, purpose filled work and safe places to tell our stories upon returning.
Perhaps a fitting prayer would be the same as the final verse - "May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you." The same unfailing love that brings us through despair to awe of blessing.
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