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I woke up to a knock on my door. "Hello? Sython waiting for you downstairs." A man called from outside the door. I quickly brushed my teeth and rushed downstairs to find him waiting in the lobby.
"Good morning! We'll have some breakfast and then head to the clay village." Sython announced while walking me to the door. We jumped in a Tuk Tuk and before we took off, Sython waved a street vendor with a tray of donuts on her head to come over. He spoke in Khmer as she picked a few pastries into the plastic bag. "These are my favorite! Try one," as he passed a sticky odd looking treat. I definitely did not want to eat it but mustered up a smile and took a bite. It didn't taste anything like a donut, and the chocolate icing on top was very misleading. It absolutely was not made of chocolate. "You like?" He smiled. "Yes, it's really good. I just am saving myself for breakfast." I explained while holding the treat down by my leg. I asked Sython how his dinner was last night. He told me he found a nice restaurant down the street and that we would be going to the same place for breakfast.
We arrived to a run down strip mall with little shops and a restaurant on the end that made my stomach turn at the sight of it. The area we were in wasn't exactly a place you would hope to eat. I don't know why I thought we would be arriving at a Denny's or something but when he said nice restaurant, I forgot we were still in Cambodia.
We approached the host and she guided us to the only seats left in the house at a table with people already eating. She cleared the dirty plates and shooed away the flys as she smiled and took our order. "She will have the omelette and I will have the Num Bahn Chok," Sython ordered.
I swatted a fly off my arm and it continued to land over and over on me until I stood up holding my hands from the sticky donut. "I'm going to go wash my hands," I announced as I excused myself from the table. I passed the kitchen and walked into the bathroom stall and stopped in my tracks, laughing at the site of the toilet bowl with a water bucket and scooper, no sink. It's like I forgot I was in Cambodia and thought I was going to wash my hands in hot water and check my make up in the mirror or something. I don't know why I was having a memory problem today. I walked out to the kitchen and showed my sticky hands to cook. She guided me over to a corner and squirted soap in my hands and then poured a bucket of water in my palms as I rubbed them together. I thanked her and took a seat back down at the table.
Sython reviewed the history on the Andoung Reysey village over breakfast. I looked at my plate wondering how I was going to get this food down. I reminded myself this was the last day of Khmer food and I would be off to Vietnam tonight.
We drove through the country side and passed the most vibrant green rice fields I had seen yet. Tall palm trees scattered in the fields and little children waved "hello" as we passed by them in the Tuk Tuk. Sython explained this was his favorite part of the project, making clay pots with the locals. He explained The Kampong Chhnang province means, "Port of Pottery." He went on to tell me, when they weren't making rice in the fields they were making pottery for a living. We pulled up to a old wooden hut and Sython hopped out warning me not to get to close to the cows as a herd of them walked by the dirt road. Their cow bells around their neck chimed as they passed the hut and continued down the road.
Lang is very good at pottery making and we are going to work with her today. He walked me through the hut with all the clay pots on display for sale. I saw a certificate hanging on the wall and Sython walked up to explain, "Lang was asked to fly to Washington DC and demonstrate how to make Cambodian clay pottery at a conference." He guided me to the back yard where an old wooden hut rest on stilts above the pottery area. Two rickety pottery wheels, one small table and a brick stove was all the equipment she had.
She introduced herself and her two little children shyly stood behind by the pottery wheel. She opened a big tarp on the yard, exposing the big pile of clay and walked away returning with a wooden slab. She placed the slab on the edge of the tarp as she motioned for me to sit. She dumped some dirt into the moist clay and begin kneading small balls of clay as she motioned me to follow. We sat in the sun and kneaded an entire mound of clay together. She giggled here and there but spoke no English.
After that step was complete, she picked up large chunks of the clay and nodded for me to follow over to a plastic bag by the pottery wheel. I tore apart a big piece and carried it over, dumping it in the bag. She returned to the pile and the two of us ran back and forth collecting all of the clay. Once we had our material, she sat down at the wheel and motioned for me to sit in front of her. She guided two fingers to her eyes and then pointed to the wheel, instructing me to watch her. She stepped on the rickety wheel to pump the wheel and it spun around in circles as she held the clay in her hands on the iron plate. I watched her sporadically dip her fingers in a pot of water. Adding water to the clay mold, she pressed her fingers in the center and created her master piece. Once the shape was complete, she reached for a piece of leaf and placed it around the top to form perfect lines along the lid. She removed her foot from the peddle and the wheel came to a stop. She took a piece of string, wrapped it around her fingers and pulled in under the pot to separate it from the wheel. She proudly walked it over to the table outside and then motioned for me to take a seat at the wheel.
I began pumping on the peddle and it took some getting used to but I got the hang of it. She placed her hands on mine and guided me through the process until I got it on my own. We made five pots together and then I let her take back over.
After we admired our hard work, she took me over to a huge stone vase in the yard and motioned for me to clean my hands. I peered in the vase and the water looked like sewer water. She smiled and motioned for my to dip my hands and I slipped them in despite of the appearance. She cleaned my hands with the water over and over, removing every trace of clay from my fingers. Once we were cleaned up, we walked over to Sython laying in the yard. "How did it go?" He asked. I told him I was pretty sure we made some master pieces. She laid in the yard with him and I asked him more about her trip to Washington DC. "What conference did she attend?" He spoke to her in Khmer and she spoke a few sentences and then Sython translated back to me. "She said she was selected to demonstrate Cambodian Pottery making at The Smithsonian Folklife Festival a few years ago." I asked Sython to translate to her if she liked America. He spoke in a Khmer and she laughed as she spoke. "What did she say?" I probed. "She said it was a really long flight and they are on a different time zone so she was very tired. She said when they would be awake, her body thought it was time to sleep and then when they went to bed, she was ready to be awake." I asked how long she was in the states and he turned to her to translate. She laughed again and scrunched her face as she spoke and waved her hands in the air. He laughed and turned to me, "She said the food was strange. She could not get used to the flavor." "What?" I gasped. "She said the food tasted gross and she couldn't eat it. They would have tables and tables of food for them with weird food that smelled strange. She thinks she lost like ten pounds from not eating." I couldn't help but laugh at this. Her and I were having the same problem. I couldn't stomach Cambodian food and she couldn't stomach American food. While it was odd to me that a cheeseburger or tacos didn't seem appetizing, I could understand that it was unfamiliar to her. I could definitely relate. Lang and I couldn't understand each other but we both laughed as Sython translated our sentences. He told her that I was having trouble eating Khmer food as well and she laughed in the yard.
Once we wrapped up, I went into her pottery hut and bought a clay pot to take home. I told Sython to tell her whenever I look at this pot when I am back home in my apartment, I will think of her. He turned and translated and she smiled and gave me a hug. We waved goodbye and the kids ran up to the front with Lang to wave bye as well.
We rode through the country side and Sython clapped his hands together, "Well, we will grab lunch at the same place for breakfast. I really love that place! And then we will call a taxi and head back to Phnom Penh so you can catch your flight." Oh man, one more meal at that place. I thought I was done at breakfast.
The server greeted us with a smile and pulled out two chairs for us to take a seat. After reviewing the menu, I chose the fried noodles and chicken. Sython slurped on his soup with delight and I picked around my undercooked odd looking chicken. I was so hungry and was praying Vietnam Pho tasted like the kind I ordered in San Diego.
Once we arrived back to The Asia Hotel to collect our bags, an old, dated Camry awaited packed full with a bike hanging out of the trunk. We climbed in to find eight people crammed in, ten now, including us. Four grown men in the front, four adults in the back and two children. The little girl spoke in Khmer and laughed. Sython laughed and said, "The little girl pointed at you and said, "Look Mommy, the foreigner has shorts small like me." I looked at the little girls clothes and she had on little jean shorts. I thought it was funny they call me the foreigner, but even more funny that there were ten bodies and a bicycle piled in a small sedan.
After the two and a half hours jammed in this car, we arrived back to the house in Phnom Penh.
"We're running out of time, we need to get to an ATM so you can get the ninety dollars out for your Visa." Sython said while motioning for me to jump on his motorcycle. "But I don't have a helmet?" I asked as he strapped his around his head. "We don't have a lot of time, let's go." I climbed on the back and was very afraid. Being on a Tuk Tuk was one thing, but on a motorcycle without a helmet made me very nervous. I trusted Sython, but I didn't trust all the other thousand motorcyclists on the unorganized road. "It's not far, we'll be quick," he assured me. He drove down the road, weaving in and out of the busy traffic and I winced as people rode inches away from us. He pulled off the road and I was relieved we made it to the ATM. He would be dropping me back off before going to the agent to retrieve my Visa. I went to pull the glass door to the ATM open and it remained closed. "It's locked!" I shouted back to Sython. He waved his hand to jump back on and I looked up at the dark cloud forming above us. "What are we going to do about the rain?" I asked nervously. "We'll be fast, I know of another ATM." The traffic was growing busier as we rode further into the city and I was so afraid on this bike. He pulled up to another ATM, and the door flew open as I ran inside. I looked outside and saw the drops of rain coming down. I turned back to the machine, withdrew money and ran back out as Sython took off through the rain.
The hard drops hit my face and I couldn't see. As I closed my eyes, I couldn't decide if this was better that I couldn't see this ride of terror. The way people drove here was so incredibly dangerous and all I wanted was to be safely back at the apartment. The rain stopped pouring and I opened my eyes. "Oh! It stopped!" I spoke too soon as we passed under another dark cloud and the rain came pouring down again.
We arrived to the apartment and I handed Sython the money as he instructed me to pack my bag. "Your taxi for the airport will be here in one hour. I am going to go pick up your visa!"
Drenched, I walked up to the third floor one last time to pack up my room. Lily still lay in her bed and I got to say goodbye but Brooke and Silvia were at school. Maybe it was for the best, I really didn't like goodbyes. I had such a great time with these girls that it would be difficult to say goodbye to them. I looked around my bedroom that seemed so foreign to me when I first arrived. It had become my safe zone that I looked forward to coming back to whenever I would go for overnight trips. I had only lived with the girls for a short two weeks but would miss coming home to them and catching up on our eventful days.
I hugged Lily and started to tear up. "It really was lovely to meet you Julie," she spoke in her eloquent English accent. I adored Lily and was so impressed with how brave she was to travel all over on her own. She had a contagious easy going spirit and was fearless about anything we did. I really was glad I met her and wished her the best of luck. She was heading to Vietnam next week to meet up with her brother.
Next I had to say goodbye to Sython and that was even more difficult. "You're a great coordinator, you know that?" I hugged him and wished him the best of luck with getting a visa to live with Stephanie in Australia. He handed me my passport with the visa as promised. "I have no idea how you pulled this off, but thank you so much Sython."
I took one last look at the house that was my home in Cambodia the last two weeks and climbed in the cab. Tears began to form behind my eyes, thinking about how much fun I had with Brooke and I didn't even get to say goodbye. Silvia too, such a sweet person and began crying that I had become attached so easily in such a short time. I guess we'd always have our little getaway at the beach.
We reached the airport and I was onto my next adventure. I checked into Vietnam Airlines, made my way to the gate and boarded my next flight. As the plane lifted out of Cambodia, I looked down at all the colored rooftops that no longer seemed unfamiliar to me. It's funny how when you first arrive somewhere you have no idea what to expect, who you will meet or how you will feel. I began crying again as I retraced images of Valentina and I exchanges glances at the sight of the dead cow, Sython transitioning from this stern stranger to the friend bringing me orange pop. The students calling me Cha, Brooke and I swimming in the turquoise sea, Lily and I chatting in our beds every afternoon and Silvia and I sharing a candlelight barracuda dinner.
It truly was such a treat and I didn't expect to be so inspired. Lily taught me to be more care free, Brooke taught me to always exude happiness, Silvia was just a gem. She taught me to ask more questions, always so interested in learning more from other people as she grew so fascinated with your response. She sat the entire bus ride to the beach, turned around to ask me questions and always asked me to correct her English if it was wrong. Valentina taught me that you should always be grateful for what you have and that you shouldn't be underdressed in front of your man. Sython taught me the most of all. He was such a happy person, excited about his girlfriend, every meal, every temple and eager for us to learn as much as possible during the project. He took his job very seriously and truly did educate us on so many details of the Cambodian culture. I can honestly say I knew nothing about the history of Cambodia, but he exposed me to their history, culture and villages. A sight not many travelers will see if they fly over on their own. Would I dare to say everyone should add Cambodia to their list? Everyone has their own specifications on what they hope to gain out of a vacation. Mine was to be exposed to something unlike anything I have seen. When I think now back to that farm house, sleeping on the wooden bed, running from the frog in the toilet hole and squirming through the Russian Market- it was all an experience. It may not be a luxurious one, but one I can definitely say left an impression on me.
So I'm off to my next stop, Vietnam.
- comments
Jenie McGrath Mom and I just read your blog and really hope you don't get food borne illness. Try and eat items with white steamed rice since it is usually always made fresh daily-safe choice from your health inspector sister!!!! Don't eat salads or fresh cut vegetables-contaminated water used to wash them.
M.O.M. Great Conclusion for Part 1