So thanksgiving has come and gone in a rather inconspicuous fashion. But it was excellent. Whitney and I went to visit Tyler. He has a stove and some pans so we made thanksgiving dinner. I was rather proud of us. We had pineapple ginger chicken, sautéd green beans (both prepared by yours truly) and mashed potatoes. It was divine. There are pictures of it somewhere. One of the awesome things about Cambodia is how fresh the ingredients are. We went to the market mid-morning, and were greatly distressed to find that there is no more chicken. But that didn’t stop our Khmer friends. They took us to the house of the woman who sells chickens. After explaining our dilemma, she asked us to wait ten minutes, grabbed on of the chickens running about the yard, and went into a shed. Ten minutes later, a defeathered, gutted chicken is presented to us, still warm. He was delicious. We spent the afternoon hanging out and walking around Ty’s place. Unlike all the other volunteers, he doesn’t live at a house with a family, but with an NGO. They have programs for kids, many of whom are orphans. They teach life skills and provide a place to sleep for those who have no home or live far from school. The ride back to Pursat was pretty interesting, as we thought we were going to flag down a bus. We were mistaken in this assumption. It was a pickup. It was loaded to the brim. We rode on top. I thought it was slightly awesome, being outside and going really fast. Whitney wasn’t as thrilled. Let’s just say it was good to get back to Pursat.

When I get back to Kravanh I really must visit the people at the market and explain my absence this weekend. I missed one day last weekend and everyone thought I had went back to America. Next weekend we have to go to Battambang. While I’m excited (they have real ice cream there) we’re supposed to be having a language class. Now, there will be around 15-20 people, all at drastically different language levels, in one class. We have yet to be informed the exact location of said class, exact date, time, or lodging arrangements. Good times.

School is progressing. I have an activity list saved to the computer there, which one of my co teachers is very excited about. I have taught my students to say “Just Peachy” and “Fantastic” in response the question “how are you?” I feel this is progress. I’ve also managed to teach some of the faculty that one should not say things like “you’re fat,” “how much do you weigh?” or “how much money do you make?” as these are rude in other countries. Khmer people say these things all the time. This new knowledge blew their minds.

In other news, I face a dilemma. My school director has offered to buy me a police uniform. Like any sane human being, my first thought was “Heck yes that’s awesome!” The logic on his part was that if the president comes to visit, all the teachers should wear police uniforms(?) I think this has something to do with showing support for the ruling party. As a peace corps volunteer, I feel very uncomfortable doing this. Although what would be a better souvenir than a Cambodian police uniform? Nothing, that’s what. Anyway, theoretically Peace Corps will come visit me in December. I’ll talk to them then.

The hardest thing about the process of attempting to improve education in Cambodia is that it is just that, a process. I was totally expecting this, and things could totally be worse. I have an awesome (if not rather eccentric) school director. He picked up trash by hand with the students, something that is simply never done here. I was impressed. My primary co-teacher is a cool person, we’ve become good friends. The other teachers are starting to show interest in improving; my faculty English class is really progressing. These are small steps, but significant ones. We are still in hot, crowed rooms, crammed with uncomfortable desks, and I sometimes have to shout to be heard above the noise of the pigs squealing, small children playing outside, or the monsoon-like rainstorms. But I really love the students. The activities are awesome because you get to see them come alive and really express their personalities. I’m especially proud of some of the girls. They take charge and do their best; challenging their classmates. Alai and Muilai are two of my favorites. These kids tend to shut down if they are put in any situation that makes them uncomfortable. One of which is speaking English. It can be really hard to get them to do anything. And the teachers don’t force them to do it! I was amazed when a teacher asked a student to do something and he said “No, I can’t” and the teacher just went on to someone else. Another thing I’m working on changing. Anyway, overall life is good. I miss everyone, and demand that turkeys be fried in my honor over the holiday season.

It’s hard out here for a pimp. In Cambodia, there is a great deal of talk about gangsters. Many people fear them. I laugh at them. When we think of gangsters, we think of people, who, well, actually belong to gangs for one thing. We think of people who sell drugs and commit violent crimes. You know what gangsters do here? Wear earrings. Oh yes friends. They’re bad. Sometimes they steal lunch money from little kids. But that is the extent of their criminal activities. Having “unusual” hair and wearing earrings are enough to make a boy a gangster. Basically gangster means punk. If a boy is rude, someone might call him a gangster. I, on the other hand, like to make fun of them. I have tried to explain the concept of real “gangsters” to people, and they are very surprised to learn that America has people this bad. “Ko’it” is the word used to describe people who commit serious crimes. It literally means broken. I was having dinner at a friends house the other night, and she was reading the paper to me, telling me about all of the atrocious crimes committed in the past month. She said “Kampuchea ko’it”, Cambodia is broken. It kind of struck me on a much deeper level than she meant. A few minutes before her friend, a woman in her mid forties, told me that she was illiterate. During the Pol Pot regime, there were no schools. Everyone had to work. In asking a little more, I learned that many people their age can’t read or write. I never cease to be amazed at how the scars from years past just kind of lie hidden. Looking at the country, one wouldn’t guess the horror that went on here. The wounds are healing, but the scars remain. Sometimes its startling.

On a completely unrelated note, should the planet ever be attacked by fierce aliens, rest assured that I am in good hands. The faculty at my school can beat down any aliens that the “Alien Shooter” computer game can throw at them. Yesterday I walked into the teachers’ lounge to soft Khmer music playing while three of them were talking excitedly about all the blood. Woot.

Also, today I rode my bike to my provincial town. I’m excited. While a taxi is much easier, the bike ride was free and it gave me a sense of accomplishment. So I ate a hamburger and some ice cream. Then I will bike back home. It is a little less than two hours by bike, so I’ll have had plenty of exercise for today. That is pretty much it for exciting news.

I will be spending Thanksgiving in Krakor, about an hour away from the provincial town. The volunteer who lives there has his own kitchen. The three of us will make chicken and mashed potatoes. Yummy. PC is also sending us to Battambang for “language training” in a couple weeks, which I don’t really understand. I can’t imagine what we could possibly learn in an afternoon in BB that we couldn’t learn at site. But it means PC pays for me to go to Battambang, so I’m not complaining.

Site is still cool. There’s an awesome NGO that works with agriculture and AIDS education. A lot of my students hang out there, and I’ve made friends with some of the staff. So that is promising for future projects. I’m still missing everyone very much, but I do think I have the best job ever, despite its many complications.

Mom, I told you wrong, I got Maw-Maw’s box instead of yours. I also got Nanny Jan’s card. Thanks to all!

Phnom Penh, Day Two:
Some people love parades. They love them so much that they even write songs about them. I am not one of those people. Next week is the Water Festival. This is when dozens, sometimes hundreds of boats race on the Tonle Sap. The population of Phnom Penh will double over the weekend. Festivities have already begun. Namely, these are parades. These parades take up the entire riverfront road, blocking traffic for blocks. Good times. So now, I’m in a café, unfortunately the TV has stopped working, so I can’t watch election coverage at the moment  Oh, it’s working again. Woot. So I will probably spend the morning here, I have to go shopping in the afternoon. Maybe buy a camera, exciting stuff. It is very interest watching all the expats (i.e. expatriates, foreigners who live abroad) during election season. When we went to another café earlier this morning, the Democrats Abroad were having a big party. I felt like a spy. It was pretty fantastic. I forgot how weird it is too be around Americans again. Phnom Penh just doesn’t even seem like Cambodia to me. The feel is completely different than it is in the provinces. I almost harbor resentment to foreigners when I see them in the city. “Who are you? What are you doing in my country?” I feel almost Khmer sometimes. The problem with foreigners is that they tend to exemplify the worst traits of the West. They are tourists, impatient and demanding. I love the fact that when I say one word in Khmer here, the people get really excited. In the café this morning, there were dozens of people, but I was the only one who waited patiently and spoke Khmer to the staff, they definitely appreciated it. I do not speak Khmer well, by any means, but they totally appreciate the effort.

I find myself thinking in Khmer and English simultaneously. Sometimes on the weekends, I don’t use English at all. There are many words that come to me more quickly in Khmer than in English, and there are some words that just don’t really mean the same thing in Khmer that they do in English. For instance, the word “mui tuk” is translated “to bathe.” But in my head, taking a bath involves sitting in a tub, a shower involves running water, but “mui tuk”is flinging a bucket of cold water on yourself. This would be a typical thought for me “After I nyam some bai I should probably ting plai chu before I deit” Which means: After I eat some rice I should probably buy fruit before I nap. Also words like sraleinh and nuk, to love and to miss, are not used at all the same way we would use their English equivalents. Someone might ask you if you love someone after only knowing them for an hour. The same is true with miss. Often Khmer people will call you to say they miss you a lot, ask if you’ve eaten rice yet (if so, was it delicious?) and then hand up. So if you talk to me, and I use a random word you don’t understand, it’s probably just my linguistic ADD. Jonathan, good luck at OIL, I know you will do fine. And I will personally beat whoever has been pulling the fire alarms at night. Trust me. I know people.

Some names have been changed to protect the innocent…
Apparently, my last name isn’t pretty enough for Cambodia. Sorry mom and dad. On the official school flow chart I will be listed as Bri “Rowat”, the Khmer word for state. At first it was an honest mistake, and when I corrected the pronunciation, they told me their way was prettier. So I am now the state of Bri. It kind of pleases me to think that I comprise my own state.

Things are still going well here. On Sunday, I went with a friend to visit her grandmother, who literally lives in rice paddy, about 20 minutes past the middle of nowhere. It was so cool! First of all, surrounded by the green of rice, with palm trees and mountains on the horizon, I just couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful. Or more muddy. I fell into the waist deep water twice. It was good times. Oh, yes, and there are leaches. There are very few physical objects that scare me. But leaches definitely fall into that category. I can almost feel their desire to drain me of blood. If you think I exaggerate, I invite you to join in a rice paddy expedition. Yes friends, they are six inches long and you will scream like a little girl.

On a more positive note, it was really awesome to spend the day in such a rural area. I live literally down the street from everything I need in my town, these people live miles away from a market. My family is technically “middle class”, but the middle class here is considerably smaller than in the US. Compared to a lot of rural people, my family is really rich. Many of the people in the rural areas don’t even have their own wells. But they are super warm and generous. While I was at my friend’s aunt’s house, a guy came over who looked really familiar. It turns out that he was one of the guys who helped me when my bike broke down. He stayed behind (and got really wet cause it rained) While his friend took me and my bike back to town. He did three things Khmer people rarely do:1) he spoke slowly. Most of them have never tried to learn a language, so when you don’t understand they tend to speak more quickly and yell, as though that will help. 2) he told me how everyone was related to everyone else. People here just kind of come and go, leaving you to guess who they are, and why they are at your house. 3) he actually explained words I didn’t know, instead of just laughing. Overall, it was a good day. My family and school staff are still overbearing, but I love them and I think we are working it out.

Also, I am planning on giving my students names of famous people, since I can’t remember the real names of six hundred people. So if anyone have any suggestions, I could use all the creative help I can get. And a special thank you to Ruth Ann, Nanny Joni, Nanny Jan, and Mom. I got your packages and they were awesome!!!! It was definitely the highlight of my week.I got them all at one time, when I got to the office. So I shared some of the food with the other volunteers. Eddie, Whitney, Mitchel, and Jason all say thank you!!!!