Sometimes I like to chase chickens. I ride by them everyday and everyday there are surprised to see me, and noisily try to run away. Perhaps they would be more successful if they simply moved to one side or the other. But no, they like to try to outrun my bike. It amuses me. Today there is a big party at my school. But, it is basically a self congratulatory bash for a certain political party. So I’m here, in my provincial town, to avoid it. In Cambodia, all teachers at public schools are required to join this party. Many of the younger people however, feel that the party simply gives people gifts so to appease them, so the people don’t notice that ridiculous amounts of money are paying for politician’s houses and cars instead of roads and schools. Two of my co teachers also left town for the same reason. The party’s main supporters are older people, who remember when a bowl of rice porridge was supposed to be a day’s meal for twenty people. They know how bad things can get, and know that things are better now, so they’re scared of change. Younger people, however, look at Vietnam and Thailand, (both about 20-30 years ahead of Cambodia as far as development is concerned) and feel like the government is holding the country back. I’m not supposed to comment on politics, as I’m technically attached to the official US Diplomatic Mission in Cambodia, but when you live in a place it’s hard not to develop opinions. Also, had I attended the party, I would have been trotted out like a circus attraction and expected to make small talk and dance with a bunch of drunk, middle aged bureaucrats who are used to being given special treatment. Yeah, no. Just no.
It’s the “rongia” season here. “Rongia” be translated as “very cold”, i.e. anything below 70 degrees. I love it. In the early morning it can get down 55, but they bust out the puffer jackets. It’s the best thing ever. I laugh a lot. This is mainly because it will be in 90s and 100s before long. Being the start of the second term, attendance has dropped significantly. My night class only had three students last time. The national exam is coming up for grade 12, they must pass it to graduate. They know school is kind of a joke so they just go to their private classes. For those who can’t afford private classes, they help at the farm. I’m starting to volunteer at an orphanage next week, so I’m excited about that.
Lastly, a word about dancing. I attempted to teach my students at recent party, which apparently was highly inappropriate. Teachers do not “disco” (any dancing that isn’t traditional Khmer). Well this one does, I don’t care what they think. But I did promise not to do it at school parties. The thing is, traditional Khmer dancing, when done by professionals, is kind of cool. I linked a couple to my facebook. However, when done by drunk people to loud techno screeching, it’s kind of boring. You kind of just rock back and forth and move your hands back and forth. But they get really excited when foreigners do it. So I try. I will try to get videos from the party’s to post. They’re really funny.
Also, my fruit lady has started selling muffins. This is proof that God does indeed love me. It definitely made my week. Granted, they aren’t the warm, crusty muffins that I ate in the States, but they are muffins nonetheless. Just thinking about them makes me hungry. I think I’ll go get lunch now,

Special thanks to Lesley Daniel and the Leonard Caring Clovers 4-H Club! Your gifts were much appreciated!

Word of the month: Khmerlicious. Definition: Remember that part in the movie Mars Attacks, when the Martian disguises himself as a hooker to get into the White House? He has huge hair to hide his gigantic head, now imagine that the hooker is trying to get into the Cambodian Royal Palace instead of the White House. That is Khmerlicious. This week I attended two weddings. Let me just say, I was extremely Khmerlicious. I’m not gonna lie, I was slightly scared of my own reflection in the mirror. Especially for the second wedding, they did my hair in a buffont that added at least 4 inches to my height. It was fantastic. These weddings are actually a series of about 8 different ceremonies, each lasting about 45 minutes, over the course of two days. The bride wears a different outfit for each one. Now, you have to understand, there is nothing plain, simple, or understated about traditional Khmer dress. The hair, the make up, the sequins, the clothes, the jewelry, seriously, drag queens would think it’s a little miuch. Btw, my buffont hairdo and face pavement (I’m sorry but to say they apply make up would be an understatement of infinite proportions, they do a better job of paving than the highway department) was done by a bleach blond drag queen. Happy New year to me. There were many pictures, and someday you will see them, but for now I have linked a few that I found on google so you can have some idea of what this is like. The night before, people arrange about 50 platters of food, mainly fruit, and place them before the ancestor shrine (every Buddhist Khmer home has one). The next day, when enough guests have arrived, everyone grabs a platter and takes their food for a walk. Literally. It is supposed to represent the groom bringing food as a gift for the bride’s family. There is a ceremony where people pretend to cut the bride and groom’s hair (I did that) and one where people tie a red string around their wrists (did that too). But basically, the whole thing is one big photo op. Most of the couple’s time is spent being posed by a photographer. The interesting thing is that most wedding guests don’t actually see any ceremony. The close friends and family will take part in the whole thing, but the majority will come for either lunch or dinner, eat, give money and leave. During the meal, the bride and groom stand at the entrance and greet guests. That is all most of the guests see of them. I was pretty excited that the last wedding had a cake. It wasn’t exactly like an American wedding cake, but for someone who hasn’t eaten cake in five months, it was close enough. The wedding costs the family over $5000 They feed between 50-500 people five meals over the course of a day and half. They also have about 10-15 different outfits made for the bride alone. The rest of the wedding party changes clothes quite a few times as well.

But I would hate to have you think that all I do is party. Not at all. The day after Christmas I harvested rice. By hand. In my pajamas. It was pretty much the best thing ever. The teachers and the students all went to some random person’s rice paddy (I still don’t know exactly who it belongs to) and used a sickle to harvest rice. It am proud to say that they gave me the sharpest sickle, and managed to not hurt myself or anyone around me. Apparently my stretchy capre pants were ´unstuitable´, so I wore pajama pants like everyone else. It is perfectly acceptable to walk around in pajama sets here. They are not suitable for traveling, but for everyday wear, totally acceptable. You have to get dressed up when you travel, which I don’t understand at all. Traveling involves cramped spaces and extreme amounts of either mud or dust. But you can’t really ask why things happen here. They told us in training that when your questions go unanswered, you simply aren’t asking the right question. Well, the right question isn’t why, it’s why not. Why not wear pajamas all the time? Why not have police carry AK47s when they don’t have the budget to buy bullets?

On Christmas day I taught my students Jingle Bells. It was slightly awesome. They really like to sing. I was also randomly given coffee four different times by people who didn’t even know it was Christmas. Merry Christmas to me. I breakfasted on the individual serving of Frosted Flakes the fam sent, and an oatmeal cream pie. Not exactly a king cake, but yummy nonetheless. Thanks again to everyone who sent me stuff. It is greatly appreciated. A belated happy holiday to all.