Ice cream and pancakes. Yes my friends, within the past 24 hours I have had both. After a couple weeks of practice teaching in Cambodian high schools, the peace corps decided that we should all wander about the nation testing our transportation procurement skills. It is called an adventure, but really it is more of a field trip. Practicum was a lot of fun. I really loved the kids, although their enthusiam was a bit overwhelming sometimes. Once, a moto with 4 16 yr old boys came alongside my bike. The kids wanted to practice their english while an 18 wheeler came barreling down the road. But that's Cambodia. I didn't particularly enjoy the co-teaching portion. My co teacher was the head of the English dept. He had been teaching for twenty years. This translated to a reluctance to deviate from the book. Bear in mind that the book was published in Britain, and has a chapter with vocabulary such as: provencial (meaning uneducated), air ticket, working holiday, and non-finite clauses. The kids basically just read a dialogue full of words they will never need to use.

Since practicum, I've just been studying language, often while swinging in hammock. Yes folks, peace corps cambodia is hardcore. This trip has been pretty fun. Last night in Phnom Penh I had pancakes and a vanilla orange latte. It was pretty much made of awesome. Today, we wandered around the Russian market, I got some books and a muffin. Then, I discovered what might possibly be my favorite passtime ever. Bargaining with taxi drivers. Picture it: A loud, dirty, smelly lot, full of minivans and toyota sedans. Men come from every direction yelling and grabbing us to take their vehicles. We take our time, telling them they are dreaming if they think we will take that price, or if they think we don't know that 2 dollars is the same as 8000 riel. In the end, we cram 15 people in an passenger van for two hours. My field trip buddy and I finally arrive in our destination, Takeo. Takeo doesn't really have much to see. But the whole point of the trip was introducing to the transportation system (or lack thereof) in Cambodia. So here we are. We checked into a guesthouse that has a huge package of condoms at the front desk. The funny thing is, this is definitely the least shady one in town. The main attraction of Takeo is Telamart. This is a gas station that offers two indespinsible items: Pringles and ice cream. We're talking real pringles, not the random potato crisp knock off. So that is pretty much all there is to do here. But the room gets the discovery channel, and that's all that really matters.

At the moment, it is pouring rain. I'm just chilling in an internet cafe trying to relay all the information of the past few weeks. Next week we will find out where our permanent sites will be. The day after that, we have a two day conference with the people we will be teaching with for the next few years. The day after that, we have a four day visit to our permanent sites. I am very excited. That's about all there is. A few minor items: my little cousins are no longer scared of me, and now like to lead me around by my hand and teach me words I already know. The chickens here are not only the ugliest but possibly the stupidest in the world. Seriously, they look like starving vultures. And if you thought American chickens are dumb, the ones here actually make a game out of attempting to fling themselves into the spokes of bike tires.

Language learning is progressing, I can now have conversations about things such as how many times a day one bathes, when I will be back for lunch, as well as the many useful phrases for discussing diarrea. Oh yes, oh yes. Hopefully the next post will be when I have permanent site. Fingers crossed!

So I think my camera is dead. Sad story. Thankfully, my awesome family is sending me a new one! Yay! I love getting mail (hint). I've been with my host family in the village of Baribo for almost a week. The first night was a big awkward party. My host mother spent most of it relating every odd or unusual thing I did to the neighbors. I knew this from her acting out everything and then all the old ladies laughing. A typical meeting with an Om Srei (woman close to mother's age) goes something like this: They comment on how white and fat I am. Here, fat isn't necessarily bad, most people associate it with healthy. They rub my arms and talk about me as though I;m a piece of furniture. Then they laugh. It is actually pretty fun. It took me a while to figure out that they weren't mad at me though, as they tend to scream instead of talk. We had been told that Cambodian women tend to be conservative and quiet. These rules don't seem to apply when one reaches the age of about 50. They Oms (aunts) and Yiyays (grandmothers) sit around gossiping about EVERYTHING and dipping snuff (I think it's called pan). It's really gross. But they are cool people. After ab out ten minutes of trying in vain to correctly pronounce my name, they decided to just give me a new one. Unfortunately, as I couldn't communicate, I wasn't aware of this until several hours later. Everyone in the village now calls me Avi (which is much nicer than 'barang', the kmher word for foreigner).

There are three people who live at my house besides myself. My mother, her daughter, and the daughter's husband. It took me forever to figure out that this guy was my brother in law. At first, my mother told me she had three daughters, one in Phnom Penh, one who lived across the street, and one who lived with her. Imagine my surprise when she hands my bag to a man who then drives off in a moto (on which Im not allowed to ride). She the proceeds to tell me that he is my brother.