Life is a series of failures dotted with mini-victories

I like sticker charts.  Maybe, I need to go back to first grade where you can earn a sticker for just showing up and trying your best.  Daily life for me in mission really is a series of failures dotted with mini-victories but they say we learn more from our failures.  The most recent way I feel like I fail again, and again is with language.  Here is an example from last week alone...

Potential visitor who is sending messages about visiting in Frenglish, aka mainly French with OK thrown in here or there.  Thank you, google translate for the French vocab I have forgotten in the last five years since I studied French, the message is understood but I realize after sending the message I have used Khmer grammatical order...  Same day, finally, catching up with one of my Venezuelan friends via phone, Spanish brain must somehow fire-up (and, conversation is Khmer/Spanish or Spanglish more than I would like to admit because I can't seem to remember simple words).  Daily interactions with my landlord, some staff, my favorite market people and Khmer is at the forefront but not always understood.  Arrive at work and Cambodian Sign Language is used at least half the times I am speaking.  Even if I am speaking with a hearing person, we strive to have all staff signing if a deaf person is around so they can feel able to enter the conversation.  More and more I also have found myself in situation where I need to interpret for deaf colleagues because we are communicating with hearing folks that have no sign language (if that isn’t motivation to improve my skills so all can actually fully participate in the conversation, I don’t know what is) but for now, I am usually left feeling it was unclear at best.  Then, sometimes I get some American Sign Language thrown into the mix, if a word doesn’t exist yet in Cambodian Sign my office mate, who is a native ASL user will provide me with the ASL so I can avoid my terrible finger spelling.  Or, sometimes, ASL signs come flying to my brain from my prior life of knowing ASL (not always accurately).  Oh, and some home signs are thrown in for communicating with our deaf who have not yet had the opportunity to learn CSL, but that leads to only basic understanding between us.  Oh, and there is this language called English which is still my primary mode of communication and must be at a professional level for work publications and at a level understandable to non-native speakers when communicating with some staff members and friends.  Uffda.

Literally, this past week, I have been having very unrestful sleep because in my dreams I am trying to interpret for someone from one of these languages into some version of sign and I don’t know the sign, the recurring part is I am getting so frustrated with myself because for some reason I am the only one who knows the two languages and can make sure both people can equally participate in the conversation but my own inabilities get in the way.

Bah!  Frustrating!  And, definitely moments where I could use a sticker for just showing up.

But, then there are those little unexpected moments of goodness that balance out the language inabilities.  For example, while riding my bike a few days ago, a truck driver stopped his truck, blocking traffic, so I could cross the street.  While, for those of you in the states this seems semi-normal, THIS IS UNHEARD OF here.  Please see normal 'traffic' below...

Note the driving on the sidewalk to get around traffic...

Or, yesterday morning, I brought a couple of our Deaf community members to a workshop and there were a few kids there whose parents were participating. So, I traveled the 2-minutes home to get this great box of crayons so they could color.

As soon, as one saw the box of crayons, he literally came running across the room.  Mini-victories. (Side note, those crayons are indeed, again, the ones I laboriously labeled for my sister on her first day of kindergarten. Each holds her name because she was afraid she would lose her crayons... she is 20 years old...)

Then, we played with my "desk chair" aka the biggest ball these munchkins had ever seen.  :)  Mini-victory.

Oh, another major success is in killing mosquitoes.  Before I had a desk or computer at work, I was  gifted with this electrocution racket.

Basically, the little buggers get fried by an electric current when you wack them like a tiny tennis ball.  I struggled with all the killing for a few weeks and couldn't handle it.  But, my fear of dengue soon kicked in, and now mosquitoes massacres occur daily.  I even commute with this thing so I can also use it at home... So, despite the language failures there are some mini-successes in other areas of my life.

And, speaking of 'normal' life... Here are a few shots of my daily life and things I see/experience:

This is the construction out my back window.  One abnormal thing to notice, they are wearing hard hats.

This is more like what construction usually looks like, no helmet, shorts, unseen flip-flops,  and here we even see a man on crutches.

And, welding.  This man is safer than most because he has on sunglasses and something to protect his face, ish.  Many folks use neither of these nor close toed shoes or gloves.  My mom instincts freak a little bit each time I see it, especially because this sort of work is often done in the store front so anyone riding/walking by could be hit with stray sparks.

Another time my mom-instincts freak is watching families moto around like this.  For all of my friend with kids that are always worrying about the car seats being fastened the correct way, how about just having your munchkin stand on the back of a moto in a great Titanic pose?  Classic family transportation.

Less dramatic, this is an example of what I do everyday.  We had a grant to help design and print informational materials for our program, so I took photos, coordinated a professional photographer, designed a lay-out, edited text, etc, etc. for these seven one page sheets about our six programs and general info about the organization.  Then, I had to lay them all out to see how they looked printed and check for typos :)  Some of my staff thought I was a little crazy and didn't understand this perfectionist need to make sure the writing style, margins, etc. all matched.

I also coordinate tours for people interested in learning about the work of DDP.  From the left, persons 1, 3, 4 are Cambodian Law students that wanted to learn more about our work (I met student 1 on the bus and invited her to come visit).  Person 2 is one of our CSL teachers.  These students spent around 90 minutes on the 'tour' which ended up less of a tour and more just asking lots of questions of some of our Deaf staff and learning about their work/lives as Deaf Cambodians.  For these hearing students, many had never met and definitely never had meaningful interactions with a Deaf person.  Thanks to one of our fabulous interpreters, barriers were removed.  It was so great to see the bridge being built and some of the stereotypes breaking down.

Until next time, good luck with your many failures!

Riding Elephants

Life is full of debacles and for me, elephant riding was a big one.  I am a vegetarian (basically, a vegan when I am responsible for my own food) who has pangs of guilt when she kills ants or mosquitoes because it is just bad juju to kill or injure a living thing.  The ants are only trying to survive.  And, as I have featured ants at least three times in this blog, I find them very clever little creatures.  Thus, point made, elephant riding yes or no?

Photo Credit: Kate J.

Ultimately, I went with yes... and this is why, as I think the decision making is probably worth understanding because I am sure some of you will be flabbergasted I would partake in the "extreme abuse" of these endangered animals.

I had conversations prior to going to Mondulkiri with people who have lived here far longer than I, we are talking 15+ years, who know the culture and the language.  I was told, the animals are treated as a part of the family.  They are not only the best shot at an income many in these rural indigenous communities have, they are highly respected by the indigenous people in the community (this is speaking only of elephants in the indigenous communities, the ones for tourists at Siem Reap live a very different life).  These elephants have been in the family for 50+ years sometime.  There have been numerous newspaper articles and campaigns by outside organizations spreading the idea that all these animals are abused.  Generally, among the longtermers who know the culture, these campaigns come largely from people who are coming in from issue-based organizations not organizations that have worked long-term with the communities they are chastising.  Some of these allegations also come from organizations that operate money making "alternatives."   While, I will acknowledge the breaking of these animals for riding and separating them from their family units is probably less than ideal, we 'break' horses, we separate many domesticated animals from their family units.  So, on this one, I chose to go with the local perspective.

I rode these lovely creature in an indigenous village in Mondulkiri, Cambodia.  The elephant is owned and the tour arranged all by the indigenous people.  This is how they make their living.  The elephant gets saddled up maybe twice-thrice/week and then hangs out and eats the other days.  The elephants also help with farming when there are no tourists.  I have not blogged a whole lot about the treatment of animals in Cambodia but it is not generally up to par with the USA.  To put it bluntly, the elephants were treated better than some of the people in Cambodia.  Sure, I would cringe when they got wacked or prodded and would love if this had not been happening BUT we checked our elephants for the 'signs' of real abuse (messed up feet, ribs showing, sores, etc).  The owners would literally use the same stick they used to thump the elephant to draw luscious, leafy greens closer for the elephant to grab.  So, as with everything in Cambodia the bad and the good literally sit side by side.

And, I had the opportunity to speak with our guides.  Khmer is also their second language so we were on fair footing.  They do not speak English, though one knew elephant in about 10 languages.  These men who are demonized by some outside sources were just like any human beings, though, clearly living disconnected from the reality most of us reading this blog live.  One had never studied at school.  He went from herding cattle to caring for an elephant at age 10, which he described as a big step up.  Of the nine children one had, only four were still alive.  I didn't want to ask how the others had died but it clearly illustrated some of the struggles these men face.  No father should have to bury more than half of his children. The first guide, after finding out I had decent Khmer, became so animated (most of the tourists they see are not able to actually interact with them it seemed) and soon the questions started coming.  My heart broke with some of them.  "The sun in America, is it the same sun as in Cambodia or are their two suns?"  "Where does iron come from, the ground or does it grow on the trees?"  And, the one that really caught me, "Is there war anywhere in the world?"  This question was then followed with "Why?"  I don't have the ability to answer that in any language. And, it was important he knew who was fighting who and was it a civil war or outsiders.  This was a segue into him talking about the time of the Khmer Rouge/civil war.  He had been a soldier and even the elephants were enlisted and forced to carry guns and things for long distances.  Needless to say, I could have talked with these men for hours (had my language skills allowed it).  They, I am sure, had stories that had not widely been told but I am so thankful I had the opportunity to learn a little about their lives.

Elephant Photos:

Elephant guide

James freaking out on top of an elephant

If you had told these two girls 20-years ago when they met at Skate World that they would be riding elephants together in Cambodia in 20 years they probably would have laughed at you, skated off, and tried to figure out what Cambodia meant :)

Our guides resting and eating lunch by the beautiful river

Another man from the village re-saddling his elephant

Rub-a-dub-dub!  Our guides give their elephants a bath at the waterfall.  The love with which they did this was visible from the bank.  They made sure every inch of those marvelous giants got a good rub down.

The view... Once upon a time, this was all jungle.  Maybe habitat loss should be the worry for the elephants not the few that are 'domesticated'

It cracked me up that this guide was on his cellphone, on an elephant, in the middle of nowhere.  Oh, technology.

My 'fake tan' from all the red dust flying around getting to and from the elephants and in the village.  Seriously, who needs all those chemicals to look orange, just come roll in Cambodian dirt :)

My People, tomatoes, and a persimmon

For those who know me well, you have probably heard me refer to my people.  I am a very pleasant person, unless you cross my people.  My people are my priority.  So, you can imagine my distress when I returned from a six-day trip to the provinces to see my market barren.  Nothing but bags of trash rolling like tumble weeds where my fruit lady once eagerly greeted me. Piles of decomposing waste in the place of the vegetable lady who was always so concerned when I didn't buy tomatoes, because I always bought tomatoes.  Sparks flying as the covered stalls were methodically deconstructed.  My roommate and my longest-term friend Kate, who happened to be visiting from Korea, had to deal with my distress as I reached minor panic levels.  "Where did they go?  How does a whole market disappear?  Where will I buy my fruit?  She always knew what I wanted.  I have been going to that lady since I got here."  I was asking tuktuk drivers and literally anyone who might know what had happened to my market.  I even went to the next closest market and couldn't bring myself to buy any vegetables, "I will find my market," I told my friend.  I don't know these people's names but I know a little of their stories and I know their faces and I appreciate their joyful greetings when I walk by.  These are my people.

My landlord, finally, was out front of the house about 12 hours after I discovered the missing market and informed me they had moved.  He also provided the general direction as to where I could find my people.  If I hadn't run into him, I was going to knock on the landlord's door this afternoon and ask where my market had gone.  Literally, as soon as my friend Kate was loaded in a tuktuk to the airport (despite my urge to blubber since one of my people just left me) I struck out to find my market people (think village people, but they are wearing Cambodian clothes and I am not sure they would get the YMCA).

A few minutes walk past where the old market was at, I followed the stream of women with plastic baskets, and soon saw tarps on the ground laden with vegetables and fruit.  Almost as soon as I rounded the corner I spotted my vegetable lady and, probably way too enthusiastically, greeted her from half way down the aisle.  Imagine that scene in every chick-flick movie where the girl realizes she is supposed to be with the boy and zeros in on him in a crowded place, all else falls silent and she walks with greet determination toward him, the crowds parting to let her through, and suddenly the world seems ok again.  It was kinda like that.

Veg-lady and I had not talked much before but I explained how I was so glad I found her because I came back from being away and the market was gone.  She told me two days ago they moved because they are putting an apartment building on that land (that was my guess).  I even got a half hug out of the deal.

Next, I went in search of my fruit lady and spotted her from a a decent distance.  She gave me a huge smile and a half hug as I again explained my distress at her not being where she always was (as my little sister would say, I may have some autistic tendencies, she was in the same place seven days/week for 10+ months, moving her was more than I could handle).  After assuring me this was her new location, I somehow ended up with a kilo of apples/pomegranates.  I had no idea what fruit I wanted when I came to the market, I just needed to know my people were ok.  And, because of my enthusiasm to find her, and my concern for her whereabouts, she threw in a free persimmon :)

Now, I just need to find my banana lady and my market family will again be complete.  With 2.2 pounds of fruit, I figured I probably really didn't need a bunch of bananas, too.  Though, I may have to find her tomorrow so I can sleep.

Oh, and don't worry, I bought tomatoes.

Temples and Landmines

Cambodia is a country filled with contrast.  Great beauty sits beside great pain on a daily basis in a more poignant way than I have witnessed in the United States.  The third day Carly and I were in Siem Reap, we saw that contrast by visiting the Landmine Museum, as well as more beautiful temples and a lovely waterfall.  While the landmines were not all from one country, and many were laid by Cambodians in the Khmer Rouge time and during the civil war, as a US Citizen, I was particularly troubled by those coming from my country.  To my knowledge, the US has never acknowledged bombing Cambodia during the time of the Vietnam war and at times they have denied that they were actively laying landmines along the Ho Chi Minh trail as it passed through Cambodia, as well as dropping many, many bombs (some of which never detonated).  One of the statistics at the museum said 600,000 were killed by what the USA was dropping, yet we won't take responsibility. That, for me, was a disappointment,

 Below are more picture showing the contrast of the beauty and pain we experienced.

Have you ever been lucky enough to see a spider build a web?  Amazing!

Can you see the rainbow?

On our way to Banteay Srey, one of the most ornate temples, we passed this group of bikers.  They were likely going to work farming a field somewhere.  

More natural beauty.  Look at these ants!  We found them on our hike up to a waterfall that had many ancient carvings in it.  

Carvings in the waterfall.  How these were not worn down in hundreds of years is beyond my understanding.

Showing my Oregon roots at the waterfall.

Banteay Srey, the most ornate of all the temples. 

Traveling buddies!  I believe this was the library of the building...

 And, switching to the landmine museum,,,  This museum was put together by a man named Aki Ra who once was a Khmer Rouge child soldier.  He was recruited and worked for them for a number of years laying mines.  After a while he fled and joined the Vietnamese soldiers fighting against the Khmer Rouge.  He is a truly amazing redemption story.  He eventually started, on his own, with no training, removing active mines and un-detonated bombs from the country by hand.  He kept many of the weapons he deactivated and put together this museum, which was eventually formalized (as was his de-mining effort).  Mines can no longer be dismantled by hand, as many people were maimed or killed doing this.  Now, a trained team is called in if mines are discovered.  The mines are blown-up on site by the professionals.

Those red dots are all the places in Cambodia the USA dropped bombs between 1965 and 1973

History Lesson, if you can read it...

Some of the hundreds of weapons found and dismantled by Aki Ra

Beauty and pain are contrast in this found-art piece constructed from weapons found and dismantled

This is an example mine field

You can read more about the Landmine Museum here.

Carly and I did not end on a sad note in our adventures, we soon returned to temples that were constructed long before landmines were ever used.

The ancient shot-gun house

Story of my life is what I call this photo.  That carved rock next to me is called a Yoni and was used in many Hindu temples as a simple of the female.  Normally, there is a Linga, or the male representation, in the middle of it.  The water that would fill this trough would supposedly increase fertility.  Carly and I had a good laugh about how, as a single person, this carving so well represented me.

Throughout the temples, there were these moss drawings on the ground.  It appeared that an area had been covered by moss and someone removed the majority to leave these cool little doodles.  

Tiny frog!  Isn't it so cute!  That is my finger, to give you an idea of how itty-bitty froggie was.

Sunrise at Angkor Wat...

Rather anticlimactic, but the people watching was AMAZING :)

Everyone else seemed to think a selfie, with a selfie-stick was essential for the experience.  So, Carly and I took one, without a selfie-stick.  Truly, it made the experience.  Such a selfie is the most important part of visiting the temples.

After so much walking, we decided to feed the fish.

Weirdest feeling ever... The little fish ate all the dead skin of your feet.  It tickled and took some getting used to...

Swarming fish!  Afterwards,our feet were as smooth as a baby's bottom.