Before i knew it, it became July and now it is half way gone. Every morning I sit on the balcony listening to the sounds outside--a woman calling for empty plastic bottles/cans, motos honking their horns, and bells notifying of the approaching monks.
I have been asked to update people on my life in Cambodia, but this place is too perplexing and marvelous to describe. Everything hits you in the face so hard all at once. Nothing is half-way.
The smells are either heavenly--from fresh jasmine flowers adorning people's door-ways, to deadly--fresh fermenting human and animal waste.
The people here are either extremely loving and friendly, or extremely abrasive.
Every outfit is well planned, nothing is thrown together at the last minute. Hair is not quickly put into a ponytail, but nicely curled or braided. Finger nail polish is an art and continually changing.
The food is extremely sweet, bitter, savory, or incredibly spicy.
The weather is either unbearably hot, with heat rising from the ground, or wet with monsoons that require one to swim through the busy streets and sleep with earplugs.
The women are constantly overlooked while the children are constantly reprimanded.
Here in Cambodia, I experience the highest of highs, and the lowest of lows. I cry from laughing at least once a day. I hear stories of individuals who have become my most current hero. People who have overcome impossible odds and stigmas. People who have used their whole life savings in an effort to make the lives of their children a little bit better. Women and children who have moved beyond the prejudices of poverty in a society where money means everything.
Hopefully someday soon I will have the opportunity to sit and write everything that I have experienced down. Until then, I will continue to share little pieces of my life in Cambodia. Who knows, maybe as I continue writing these experiences, it will promote reflection in someone else.
I have been asked to update people on my life in Cambodia, but this place is too perplexing and marvelous to describe. Everything hits you in the face so hard all at once. Nothing is half-way.
The smells are either heavenly--from fresh jasmine flowers adorning people's door-ways, to deadly--fresh fermenting human and animal waste.
The people here are either extremely loving and friendly, or extremely abrasive.
Every outfit is well planned, nothing is thrown together at the last minute. Hair is not quickly put into a ponytail, but nicely curled or braided. Finger nail polish is an art and continually changing.
The food is extremely sweet, bitter, savory, or incredibly spicy.
The weather is either unbearably hot, with heat rising from the ground, or wet with monsoons that require one to swim through the busy streets and sleep with earplugs.
The women are constantly overlooked while the children are constantly reprimanded.
Here in Cambodia, I experience the highest of highs, and the lowest of lows. I cry from laughing at least once a day. I hear stories of individuals who have become my most current hero. People who have overcome impossible odds and stigmas. People who have used their whole life savings in an effort to make the lives of their children a little bit better. Women and children who have moved beyond the prejudices of poverty in a society where money means everything.
Hopefully someday soon I will have the opportunity to sit and write everything that I have experienced down. Until then, I will continue to share little pieces of my life in Cambodia. Who knows, maybe as I continue writing these experiences, it will promote reflection in someone else.
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