Since it's Christmas, Let's Be Glad.

I am not perfect.

My life, is not perfect.

You can always count on the Cambodian people to be the first to point out any imperfections.

My children have pointed out to me things from faulty machinery to behavior irregularities.

It's one of those things that you have to take in stride, because no social-cues in that sense can be rough on the self-image.

Olga has spent the last, I don't even know how long, preparing for the Christmas program.

She has worked endlessly to find music, plays, costumes, decorations. She has taught songs, practiced songs, and spent every afternoon with Special Choir.

I took an hour out of each day this week and had my kids practice their songs. I practiced patience while I tried to get them to sing, voiCE, rejoiCE and ChrisT.

Sopheak says in his way, Chaaaa, why you make up practice again and AGAINNNN?

Because I want you to do well!

And then it's here. It's December 24th. Tests are finished, classes are finished. The only thing left to do is party and SING.

After flag raising, everyone is marched into the big tent to practice before the program at eleven. As Sharon makes the announcement about what is happening she says, do it well the first time and we won't have to practice again and again!! I make eye contact with Sopheak and we both laugh.

We got through practice with enough time for a forty-five minute party. Perfect. I had made muffins and cookies. There is fruit and juice and little gifts for everyone. Things are spilled, messes are made, but there is lots of laughter.

The Christmas program starts at eleven. All the kids are lined up in a sea of star crowns and animals masks. It's adorable, and I can feel appreciation and love for this place and these people rushing back in after a week of complications, stress and noisy kids.

The program is long and it's hotter than you could ever imagine a Christmas Eve could be. Things don't go perfectly. Drama kids forget their lines, they still sing Chri, Voi, and rejoy, and changing groups to sing takes a lifetime.

But then it's time for Special Choir to sing Breath of Heaven.

"I am waiting in silent prayer. I am frightened by this load I bear. In a world as cold as stone, must I walk this path alone? Be with me now. Breath of heaven, hold me together"

They sing as Mary wanders the stage crying under the weight of what she is enduring. She is not perfect, or fearless. As she crumbles, angels come to her side and hold her up.

As the song finishes, "But I offer all I am, for the mercy of Your plan." Mary is ready to have the baby.

As I watched this, it struck me anew, Christmas is not about gifts, costumes, or perfection. It's about inadequate, mixed-up people.

People who need a savior.

I'm not perfect. Jesus came to save ME. This is good news.

Half Way.

Today marks the half way point of my time in Cambodia.

Currently all the lights are off in the apartment except the Christmas lights.

Christmas is on Sabbath. But it seems like there is a mountain of work before we can reach that point.

We are giving finals tomorrow and Thursday at school.

I have to bake up a storm for a classroom Christmas party.

Then on Friday it's Christmas program and party time.

And then we have to get all the grades and lesson plans done so we can go on holiday.

On Sabbath is Christmas. We have responsibilities with church service, and the final special choir performances in the afternoon.

On Sunday we leave for Bali for a week. [God has blessed me with some wonderful WONDERFUL people at home.]

I feel like I should have my life more together. I am five months in I still feel like I hardly know what I am doing sometimes. Maybe that comes with being a new teacher. Maybe that comes with being an SM.

My days are crazy. I try to keep them quiet so was can maybe learn something. During lunch I laugh at the boys and the mildly dangerous games they choose to play. When one o'clock hits and they thunder out of my room and take what feels like my first breath of the day.

As I sit in the twinkly darkness I wonder if it ever slows down.

This life that I am living is something I have thought about, dreamed about for years!

And now it is half way over.

The days are long but the weeks go fast.

It's hard, and tiring, and frustrating.

But God is good.

I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong; by no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward- to Jesus. I'm off and running and I'm not turning back.

Philippians 3:12-14

It's Not a Competition.

It's easier to get in the Christmas spirit with the air conditioner on.

We recognize the holiday season by listening to Christmas music in the apartment.

Everyone gets a turn to choose a song. Olga, me, Phil and repeat.

I went between Sufjan Stevens and that Straight no Chaser song, The 12 Days of Christmas.

Olga chose Puerto Rico Christmas music about how awesome Puerto Rico is.

Phil had an odd variety, Nat King Cole, The Jackson 5, Lady Gaga...

And then he decided to play God Bless America sung by Celine Dion.

He put his fist in the air and declared, AMERICA WINS.

There were also some claims about,

America invented Christmas!

Jesus was American!

And,

Celine Dion loves America.

All I'm saying, is that it isn't supposed to be 90 degrees outside during December.

You'd be crazy too.

Thy Will Be Done.

Sometimes the load is heavy, and sometimes the road is long. And sometimes, Lord, this heart of mine is not so strong. But thy will be done, Lord, thy will be done. Father, I do not ask you to take this cup from me. I only ask your guidance over paths I cannot see. And thy will be done, Lord, thy will be done.

Being an SM is hard.

I don't know how to explain that statement.

Sometimes I end the day feeling defeated, feeling unqualified and a little bruised, inside and out.

I struggle to keep the children listening, and productive. Often if feels like the only person learning, is me.

The mission is filled with wonderful people who offer nothing but support and love. I have found happiness, but I often find myself longing for something, more.

The relationships that mean the most to me are long distance.

Large spans of water separate us. And sometimes I wonder if I am just imaging something magical that doesn't exist.

I am connected through facebook, skype, e-mails. But sitting down to a conversation is hard when a million things are running through my head and stealing my heart.

Life is hard to explain, and I sometimes don't have the energy to try.

It's hard to be so far away.

I know I have chosen this life for myself, and even on days that are hard, I know I am blessed.

I read somewhere that maybe happiness is not found in the absence of problems but in the ability to deal with them.

My life is completely different than anything I have ever known.

Spending time in a country with such a great amount of hurt and need is teaching me what real struggle is.

I find myself needing more by myself time than I ever have. Time to think, write, and be still.

And I am beyond blessed by the friends at home who have read my e-mails, listened to my thoughts and feelings as I trudge through them. Spending time on the other side of the world very much shows who finds you important enough to try.

Being an SM is not always extraordinary. Sometimes the extraordinary comes through finding Jesus by your side every step of the way.

The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It's our handle on what we can't see.

Hebrews 11:1

I'm working on faith. I'm working on letting the brokenness, the struggle be what it is.

I'm waiting for the light, because the sun will rise. It always does.

Now, Lord, I feel you near me, I feel your guiding power. And know you're standing by me through every passing hour. And thy will be done, Lord, thy will be done.

Looking Forward.

I think about the future a lot.

I think about graduating.

I think about camp next summer.

I think about going home in May.

I think about going to India in April.

I think about going to the beach in three weeks.

I think about getting my kids through the rest of the quarter.

I think about school tomorrow.

God has got it all planned.

Sometimes I get impatient and I just want it, the future, to be happening now

I want to be graduated so I can go out as a missionary again.

I want camp to start tomorrow!

I want to feel ready to go home when it comes time.

You get the point.

I don't know what God has planned.

He worked it out for me to be in the right place this year.

I have been blessed beyond measure, it's a my cup runneth over type situation. And I am excited to know where I will be led next.

On Sabbath the four of us SMs went out with Gary and Sharon [principal and husband] to floating villages two hours from Phnom Penh.

These communities are Vietnamese speaking little to no Khmer, rendering my small knowledge of Khmer useless.

They take everything from the water. It is their drinking water, bathing water, dish washing water, bathroom water.

We were asked to sing for special music after church had already started and like good little SMs we said yes.

It was mostly kids that came for the service and after church ended they all jumped into boats to paddle home. These tiny little kids! Oh my goodness.

A few kids stayed behind , including one beautiful little girl, who came up to me and put her arms around me. We hugged and spun in circles, and danced until we left. I've never been so sad to leave anyone.

As we were leaving one of the adults asked how old I was. I said twenty-one. And she replied with the one Vietnamese phrase that I know, very beautiful.

We visited another church and again we sang and Gary preached. It was quite warm and we hadn't eaten. We all had some trouble staying awake.

The third church of the day was at the home of the pastor we had been with all day. It was a twenty minute boat ride to his home. Through quite an extensive neighbor hood on the water. Not a lot of white visitors come through there and it was a little like being on parade, waving a little kids and grown men stopping their activities to watch us go by.

This church, like the first, was mostly kids. The pastor's wife had started a literacy program to teach the children to read Khmer, so they study during the week and come to church on Sabbath.

After church we sat down on the floor to eat. I scooted over to the large doorway and watched the water and the people go by. I thought about what life might be like to be a missionary here. Working with kids, struggling and growing right along with the people.

We've visited a lot of churches so far during my time here and we'll visit more. But I haven't connected with any of them like I did with this.

Maybe it was because it is so different from anything, maybe it's a calling.

Back in the truck on the way home, the boys were asleep in the back, and Olga and I were talking with Gary and Sharon about the day.
Gary mentioned that they have been thinking about submitting a call for an SM to come to the floating village and teach English.

And I wondered to myself, is this what You have planned?

As I look to the future, I wonder were I'll end up next.

I get impatient and I question every choice, every turn. I forget to surrender. I forget to breathe.

I want to graduate so I can go out again.
This I know.

It might mean a floating Vietnamese village in Cambodia, or the Muslims in the north, or even somewhere else in the world, but I'm ready.

I'm looking forward to service, I'm looking forward to LIFE.

Noticed.

I can't go outside without getting stared at.

Moto drivers that sit outside the market know where I live although they have never taken me.

What I say is noticed.

How I react.

How I behave.

How I look.

Everything is noticed.

Today I was walking home with one of my students who works on the mission in the afternoon.

We saw fake $100 bills that had been put out for the spirits and I picked one up.

As we were walking the final road to the church a young man who lives down the street started walking next to me, bouncing a ball, and counting the bounces in Khmer.

I smiled and counted with him.

I saw him eye the fake $100 bill in my hand, glancing from my face to my hand and back again.

I debated handing it to him or tucking it into my bag. But I settled for crumpling it in my hand and pretending not to see his glances.

Everything is noticed.

Last week at school I was grumpy. My children were being terrible and I was having none of it. During break time they asked me, Teacher, you no happy today? Why?

The following break time I was presented with snacks and a "we love teacher annie" card.

Everything is noticed.

On Saturday night Phil, Olga and I were riding our bikes to school to go play games with the dorm kids. I tried to cross the street without enough caution and was hit by a moto. I have significant bruising.

On Monday at school a large number of students and teachers noticed the bruises on my legs and asked.

Everything is noticed.

We've had, not drama, but some situations in our SM group. It's not really something I want to discuss on the internet. But, we found out that is has been noticed. Some people outside of the foreigners have been asking questions about us.

Everything is noticed.

I am led to wonder if I am noticed for the right things. For the things that I came here to represent. I teach bible class every day in my room. But I know that in the end my actions will mean more than my words. Have my actions been enough?

Today I was in the back of my classroom getting ready to leave for the day while Olga was starting special choir. A few of my boys were talking and I shushed them and motioned for them to turn around and pay attention. They complied with a smile and salute.

Olga had them stand for prayer, it would have been just as easy to continue what I was doing quietly in the back of the room. But I paused what I was doing to bring my hands together at chin level and close my eyes along with the room full of students.

As I opened my eyes again, I heard one of my ESL kids whisper to another, Teacher Annie pray too.

As it turns out, everything is noticed.

Something in the Water.

The other week in church I was sitting with the dorm kids and everyone went up for childrens story. Except a few, including Joshua, one of my third graders.

Me: Joshua, why don't you go for children's story?

Joshua: [Turns to look at me with this incredulous look on his face, hits his chest with his fist, and says defiantly] I am a MAN.

The other night we were all in the apartment,

Phil: I am a MAN!

Me: You seem to say that a lot.

Phil: Because you people always seem to forget!!!

This Cambodia thing seems to be making men of all of us.

Tranquil as a forest
But on fire within
Once you find your center
you are sure to win
You're a spineless, pale
pathetic lot
And you haven't got a clue
Somehow I'll make a man
out of you.

Moments.

I suppose every SM as the same thoughts-- How am I ever going to put this into words? How can I phrase this so people back home can understand?

There is so much, and some of it is very little. And the only way to really know is to experience.

Today I was exhausted. The exhausted I usually feel on Friday. It is only Tuesday. Not good. During 5th period I had pretty much lost the will to live and was just sitting at my desk letting my kids do the Bible assignment from the period before and when they finished I gave them a crossword.

Noreak was sick and was asleep on his desk. Which was a refreshing change from the usual loud distracting behavior we usually are privileged to receive.

Vatanak and Lily, my Korean, were arguing about crayons in English. Lily: What is wrong with you?! Vatanak: Me?! They don't need to be in a line!!

Rotana who wanted to take the crossword to do at home was across the room, every few minutes, chaaaaaaaaaaa. Chaaa-AAAAAAA.

Lingphy was coloring and singing: This is my giiirlfriend that you boooyfriend one another. [to the tune of This is my commandment]

Boreach was laying on the floor humming the song Lingphy was singing.

Joshua was turned around sitting on his desk which I had pulled to the front of the room after he was doing too much talking. And he was yelling at no one in particular- You want to fight me?! I speak English! Why you speak Khmer to me?!

Joshua! Come sit next to me!

Lingphy! Stop singing or come sit back here.

They both come sit next to me and start singing together.

Well this solved nothing. I might as well sing along.

As class came to an end, they all asked me-

Joshua: Teacher, where you go for no school?

Vietnam.

Joshua: When?

Tomorrow.

Lingphy: Who will go to the library with me tomorrow?

I will. We're leaving after school.

Rotana: Who will I learn with on Tuesday?

We'll be back in time.

My kids: Sighs of relief.

This might make friends back home smile, or maybe fast forward to more exciting parts. But it fills me with joy and makes me laugh out loud.

These people, this life. I am blessed.

While I can't sum up my life, I can live, experience, and grow. And maybe in the end I'll have some some good stories about God's leading.

I seem to keep waiting for the struggle. Aren't SMs supposed to struggle? Shouldn't I want, need and miss so much more?

I feel a little guilty with the amount of happiness I was alloted this year.

So I won't waste an ounce.

I won't have this forever. This year is passing all too quickly.

So it's time to LIVE.

FIRE.

I'm learning to be thankful for little things in Cambodia. Today I was thankful for fire.

Yesterday we ran out of gas in the apartment.

That means no cooking.

Which translates into yogurt and toast.

Breakfast, no big deal.

At school I forgot to go tell Augusta. I was too busy giving spelling tests and making children run for talking during their spelling tests.

And then during fourth period we usually watch Veggie Tales. But today I said no, because they were loud and disrespectful today. My children were maaaaaaaad. Which was a whole new crisis.

I need to work on keeping a straight face when discipling. I need to channel my inner Karsten Cook.

I got home after school, starved, with twenty minutes before I had to be out the door again.

I was quickly going to make something, but alas, we have no gas.

Crisis!

Ok, ok. Why do we have nothing we can eat cold?! Fine, yogurt and oatmeal squares. No problem. I'll tell Augusta on the way out.

I discovered soon after that Augusta was in staff meeting at school and I wouldn't be able to tell her until after I got home again.

Oh no. It's going to be Sabbath soon, which means we're going to not have a stove until Monday.

Crisis!

Once I got home again, I called Fay, who walked over to Augusta's house, who called the guy, who brought the gas.

I was surprised when someone knocked on door with a tank over his shoulder. It's not too late!

He hooked it up, and knocked on the door again and said, finish!

I said, THANK YOU. Acoon shuhran!!!

I turned on the stove and there was a FIRE!!!!!!!

And for a moment, I felt a little like Tom Hanks in Cast Away when he first makes a fire.

AHAHAAAAHAHAA! FIRE! I. HAVE. MADE. FIRE. Or, I called Fay, who told Augusta, who called a guy, who brought a tank and plugged it in. But, regardless, I TURNED THE STOVE ON and there was FIRE.

So today I am thankful for fire.

What are you thankful for?

Shoe-less and Satisfied.

In Cambodia, taking off your shoes is a sign of respect.

Every Sabbath there are piles of shoes outside of that sanctuary, because that is how you show respect.

During parent teach conferences, most parents took their shoes off before entering classrooms as a sign of respect to the teachers.

Whenever you enter a home, you take your shoes off, without question.

At school, in the office, you take off your shoes.

The same is true in other Asian countries too, I think. In Thailand we went to an old palace, and we had to take our shoes off first. I made a comment about how lucky the tour guides were to have a job where they didn't ever wear shoes. One of the other SMs looked at me and said, don't you also have a job like that?

This is true.

I don't wear shoes. Really ever. I put them on long enough in the morning to get to school. And then for the rest of the day, expect for the bathroom or crossing to the other building, I am barefoot.

At first my kids questioned, Teacher, where are your shoes?

But now it's more of a, Teacher, why do you have shoes on?

There is something completely wonderful about not wearing shoes. There is a freeing feeling in it. Maybe I'm the only one that thinks so, but thats fine.

Sabbath is my favorite day for a large number of reasons, but one being, shoes.

I live about the church, so I leave the house and go down without putting shoes on, join the mass of people barefoot in the sanctuary. If I can make it through an entire Sabbath without putting shoes on, it's been a good day.

And Shona's comment a few weeks back made me laugh, I walked into vespers, shoe-less and she said, you're just loving this Cambodian thing aren't you?

Maybe this is how I embrace the culture, or maybe it's my own version of crazy.

Whatever it is, I am satisfied.

An Ode to Grade Three.

I teach twenty-five students, from grade two through grade 8, five periods a day, each day. All of my kids bring something wonderful to the table. Sure they cheat and they don't do their homework and they don't know how to raise their hands or stay in their seat, but we're working on it. One of the grade seven boys, Noreak, he is one of the worst, cheating and not trying and ah! But then he smiles this wide goofy smile at me and I love him all over again.

But we're not here to talk about grade seven. I would like to take a moment to talk about my favorite group, because lets be serious, every teacher has favorites, grade three.

The only way I could accurately convey how much I love these people would be through large gestures and interpretative dance. But I'll do what I can.

This is them. In all my grades there is fights, spats, arguments. Except in grade three. In grade three there is helping, and smiling, and completeness.

Rotana is the only girl of the five. She is also the smartest one of the bunch. Sometimes when we're working on something and the boys are just being so silly she'll look at me and we'll roll our eyes and laugh. She can write in cursive better than I can.

Even though she is the only girl, she is in charge of the boys. She takes care of them a little.

When I tell her she is beautiful she has this smile that just lights up my life.

She wants to be a doctor. She will be a doctor.

Pannha. He is the quietest one of the group. And often it takes him an extra minute to understand. He doesn't speak up about it, he doesn't want to disturb, so I've learned to ask him specifically after every starts working.

He hands me food randomly throughout the day. His dad is a pretty important government official, always looking so serious. He intimidates me a little. From what I know Pannha had a rough time of it in government school, making friends and understanding lessons. But at the end of the day when Pannha says, goodbye, Teacher! See you tomorrow! I catch his father smiling at me. I agree, sir. I'm glad you're son is happy here too.

Boreach. Oh my goodness. This kid just kills me. When I give him instructions, he makes jerky movements like someone is shooting him. I laugh.

He is the smallest of all grade three, but he stands up for himself and does what he wants!

When the light bulb goes off for him and he understands something, he holds his pencil out in front of him, wags his eyebrows up and down and says, oooh, I knooow.

He NEVER remembers to write his name. When I give a test, or a quiz or a paper, I remind everyone, write your name. Boreach! Write your name!! Ooooh, I knooow!

Sopheak. He is the most adorable. He forgot to wear his uniform to school once.

He has this laugh that consumes his whole body. He always remembers jokes and reminds me. "Monkey go to bathroom!"

He is very clumsy, the walkway was slippery one day and I looked out the door just in time to see Sopheak slide past the door on his back screaming. I've never laughed so hard. He reminds me sometimes. Cha, remember how I slide? Bahaha. Yes.

He and Boreach are best friends. They stick together and laugh at each others jokes the way only best friends can.

His parents aren't in the picture too much. He and his sister, who is also in my class, live with an uncle. He is so wonderful and full of life. At the end of every day he hugs me and says in Khmer, goodbye, teacher, thank you, see you tomorrow!

And last, Joshua. I could talk for hours about him. He is the love of my life, the light in the darkness. We bonded early on and when I found out he was a dorm student I thanked God for loving me so much.

Joshua is the loudest of the group, and he is the oldest. If he continues in school he will be 23 when he graduates high school.

Now, Joshua is often just terrible. He doesn't stay in his seat or want to do his work and he always wants to talk. I get so mad, but then he smiles and says something charming and I'm sucked right back in.

He waits for me at lunch and we walk together. And everyday after school he comes to my classroom to talk to me. He has a brother who is also in my class and Joshua takes care of him.

Joshua started out with the lowest amount of English out of grade three and now he is almost the best. The other day he came and told Olga and I a story and we were astounded! It wasn't the story, it was that the story was in ENGLISH with only a few pauses. OH MY GOODNESS! It was the most exciting moment of the week!

Today we had a rough 5th period and I was frustrated when it was finished. When teachers meeting finished after school around 4:30 all the dorm kids were playing outside. I went down to my classroom to work and moments later Joshua showed up. We were talking and he asked me, do you miss home? I said, sometimes. Why? He replied, Because I miss home.

It's impossible not to love him.

During the last finals week the schedule worked out that I got to spend an entire period with just grade three. They did my seventh period routine with me. Office, they took turns pushing buttons on the copy machine, and we all laughed at things Joshua said. Then we went to the library and read books. It was a magical hour and now they ask me everyday, Cha! Can we go to office and library today with you?!

I so wish.

These kids have taught me, in the cheesiest way possible, that love knows no obstacle. The language barrier in my classroom is a never ending source of frustration. But I somehow manage to love these people more than I thought possible.

Don't get me wrong, it's not all moments of joy. I struggle to get them to sit still, and do their homework, and stop cheating, and don't write in pen, and no you may not go to the bathroom, and learning. Are we learning anything?! Are we making ANY progress?!?!

But I was blessed enough to be given a group of people who make struggle and long days seem worth it. Who make giving up seem so ridiculous. A group of people that make me want to try. A group of people that make me dread going home in six months.

These are my people. My children. All 25 of them. I'm invested, I'm in love.

The only way I know how to express the love I feel for this group is to put my arms in the air, to twirl, to bow, to sway, to praise.

"I will dance, I will sing, to be mad for my King.

NOTHING, Lord, is hindering the passion in my soul"

The First Ten.

Let me just say, I think my ideal job would involve me just loving children. And the year is coming pretty darn close.

Every day, around 3pm, I am reminded why I love my life.

The bell to end 6th period rings at 2pm. I have usually spent the last hour sitting at my desk grading, or talking on Skype to the remnants of the west coast as they sign off for bed.
Not going to lie, today I spent it just staring out the window. Which is an improvment from last week when I took a nap on the floor.
Anyway, I usually receive a few grade three visitors who today came in to tell me, Teacher Sopeap make us run!! Why? We are noisy! I laughed out loud.
I walk with them down to the office and standing talking to them and others who come running over until the bell rings are they run back to class.

Walking into the office I kick off my shoes and praise God for air conditioning. Making copies takes so long. Oh my goodness. When that is finished I head to my favorite 7th period place, the library.

Entering the second and last air conditioned place on campus I am greeted by Fay with a, I was wondering where you were! or Yay! She's here! -- I always take grading and good intentions with me, but usually end up talking with Fay the whole time or doing some leisure time reading.

At 3pm the bells let us know it's time for go home. [Haha. I love my ESL kids.] I say goodbye to Fay and make my favorite walk of the day. The dorm kids are heading to the dorm to drop their stuff off and change clothes and the path between the two buildings are full of kids I love. Most say hello, Cha! Many ask a question or shout something at me as I pass, and a few stop me with a hug or some sort of action. Today Henry sat on my foot holding onto my leg shouting, I am the kingdom! while I tried to walk.

Instead of taking the stairs right there I walk the cement down to the far stairs passing all the grade school classrooms. There is always some sort of grade two ambush, little girls screaming and running at me. It's good.

I say hello to parents I recognize and they smile. Students say Cha, where you go? I poke my head in grade three and Sen Sopheak always yells something at me that I don't understand. He gives a thumbs up and I wave.

Quickly I run upstairs and grab 1000 riel [25 cents] from my desk and walk back down. More students, more hugs, more questions. I exit the gate and cross the street. Rooty. Made by one of the sellers with a cart that he drives around. It's like a crepe with an egg and sweet cream inside of it. Sounds gross. Looks gross. Tastes so so good. Cambodia may not have crepe guy, but we have rooty.

Crossing back into school I pause to say something to my favorite guard. Today I thanked him for standing at the open gate. He laughed.

I climb the stairs back to my classroom knowing that soon Joshua will appear to tell me things in broken English and make me laugh.

It may not be much, but those first ten minutes after school are good. So good. No matter how hard the day has been, those minutes remind me to laugh, to love, to be really alive. And it reminds me just how happy I am here.

And oh boy, am I happy.

The New Normal.

Almost three months ago I arrived in Cambodia.

I can't believe it's been three months already!!

I can't believe it is almost November.

And I also can't believe the things that have become normal.

Reality just isn't my thing I guess...

Being an SM has provided a view of reality I haven't experienced before.

The phrase we use a lot is- It's ok, we live in Cambodia.

It's hot all the time, and we eat rice a lot. But it's ok, we live in Cambodia.

When I first arrived in Cambodia I was shocked by how many people they put on a moto, three, four, five! And little children!! So dangerous! In amazement I took pictures of this.

Now, three months in, when Phil, Olga and I go out sometimes there is only two moto guys sitting outside the mission, so Olga and I just get on the back of one. Without helmets. This seems completely normal.

Three months ago, we picked ants out of the sugar. Now we just move them aside.

This week Olga found worms in her lunch at school. Big worms. And we all wondered if we also had eaten worms. But we just kind of shrugged it off, it's ok, we live in Cambodia.

Yesterday we were at a church out in one of the provinces. Chickens were running through the church, and no one thought anything about it...

When my time started in Cambodia I was startled and a little offended daily by the amount of men that pee on the side of the rode. And we also are stared at, doesn't matter where we go, or how many times we have seen the same people, they stare. But slowly, you become used to it. When we were in Thailand a few weeks ago, men weren't peeing everywhere, and we weren't being stared at really at all. And that was a little strange.

A few nights back Olga and I were sitting on the couch, above us the air conditioner was dripping pretty seriously. I looked over at Olga, are you getting splashed? Yes. Me too.

Neither of us did anything about it. It's ok, we live in Cambodia.

One of my girls was walking toward the mission when I rode past on my bike. I stopped and said, get on! She jumped on the back. It's very convenient, I don't know anyone walks if there is a bike. Olga rode on the back of mine the other day. It didn't end quite so well, but the two "barang" sitting in the middle of the street laughing hysterically must have been a sight.

I don't wear shoes. Pretty much ever. "Teacher, where are your shoes?" "She doesn't wear them, don't you know!"

Sometimes I don't understand what is happening around me, and sometimes our tuk tuk driver is lost, but it's ok, I live in Cambodia.

Being in a different culture is changing my thinking.

I'm learning, embrace, embrace, embrace. It's the only way to live!

I'm pretty much completely happy here.

It's a different version of normal.

Maybe it is my never satisfied desire for adventure, but different is good.

Different is healing.

One of those days.

You know the feeling?

Two of my kids dropped an f-bomb in class today.

Five laps! One for each letter, and a fifth because I'm not happy!

5, 4, 3, 2.... Noreak, do you want me to say one?

Do it, cha!

One. Two laps. Run. Go.

This is too haaarrrddd. I don't wannnnaaaa.

Stop whining.

Noooooooooo. ,

20 push ups. Lets go.

Boreach, Sen Sopeak! You're late! I want one lap! Run!

Bot, you have to go to the bathroom AGAIN?!

Yes, cha!

You have been FOUR TIMES ALREADY. Only if you run a lap first.

If I hear another word in Khmer you're going to hold the dictionary over your head!

[some chattering in Khmer]

Alright! You can take turns. Three minutes each!

Today my kids tried and tested me.

I prayed for patience. For grace.

And with my back against the wall, I took 'em down, one by one.

Cuddly kids.

This morning I was late to church. I was talking on Skype, thinking I had another hour, and then I look up to see Olga walking out the door. Wait, what time does church start? 15 minutes ago. Shoot.

I quickly made toast and ran out the door and down the stairs shoe-less in true Sabbath fashion. I'm going to have to write a blog about how I don't ever wear shoes. Seriously though, mostly never.

As I got the bottom of the stairs I heard praying and it quickly became apparent that everyone was on their knees. In Cambodia when everyone kneels in church, instead of facing forward you turn around and face the back. I don't really know why. But that means when eyes opened at the end of prayer I was the first thing they saw standing in the back of the sanctuary.

I looked towards the dorm kids, feeling pretty sure that all the seats were taken and I was going to have to sit in the back. Joshua, my favorite kid, the love of my life, catches my eye. I motion, is there room for me? He motions back, come. Where?, I ask. He points to a seemingly empty seat next to him. It's pretty much the front of the church but without a second thought I go. The kids are small, they can double up if someone is actually sitting there. I just want to sit with them.

As I scoot in past some of the dorm girls they all grab me and exclaim, oh teacher! Sreyes-ah! Beautiful! Which, I have my hair down so I qualify as beautiful today. Yes, yes, everyone is watching! I laughed, let go! Be quiet! I sat down in the chair next to Joshua and he leaned over and whispered, Happy Sabbath, Teacher. I like you come sit with me.

I'm just in love.

On the other side of me was Henry. I'm not sure what grade he is in, but he is the smallest of the dorm kids. When I sat down he hugged me and exclaimed, TEECHAA!!

Now, you should know, one thing I miss in Cambodia is cuddly kids. I loved my jobs in Walla Walla. I took care of some of the best kids. I especially miss Sophie, she was my little cuddle bug, from the moment I got there to the moment I left she was attached me to. I love that girl. But as a teacher you can't have the same kind of relationship that you can as a nanny. Sometimes Rose holds my hand and all my kids hug me, but it's just not the same.

Anyway, Henry is sitting close to me and as church is going on I can see him kind of swaying. I look over just in time to see him fall asleep and his head land on my shoulder. I just melted. His head fell back a few minutes later and smacked the chair, in his surprise he sat up. I snuck my arm around so when he sat back it was against my arm instead of the chair. He breathed a loud sigh and slipped back into sleep staying there until the end of the service.

More than a sermon, more than any song, Henry asleep in my arms brought me close to God on this Sabbath.

As the service ended I thanked God for knowing what I need and providing. Maybe not an abundance, but enough.

And enough is plenty.

Accident Prone.

ac·ci·dent-prone

adj. Having or susceptible to having a greater than average number of accidents or mishaps

I'm surprised there wasn't a picture of me.

There have been some semi-joke predictions made about me, including:

"You're going to be the Cambodian SM that gets hit by a car this year."

"You are going to be the one that wanders off at the market and we never see again."

"You are probably going to be the one that falls down the stairs"

Well. We're almost three for three here.

On the first day of school, first period of the day, I busted my toe nail up and bled all over the floor. If you ever want to compare worst first-day-of-school-as-a-teacher stories, don't worry, mine are worse.

I have ridden my bike into not one, but two, parked cars. Sometimes riding my bike is hard!

I punched myself in the eye the other week. I touched a hot light bulb and in my attempt to get away, I might probably have punched myself. The bruise wasn't really anything, so that was good.

A Cambodian long dream has been to touch one of the cow things we have here. A few weeks back I tried and was almost killed. I didn't know you probably shouldn't mess with one that has a baby, alright?! Since that time I have been afraid to try again.

Last Sunday I fell down the stairs. They get a little slippery after it rains. I put my foot on the first one, thought, it's slippery, I should be careful. And then, BAM. Feet out from under me, slid down the last seven steps on my back. Bruised like you wouldn't believe. Several times this week I thought I was sitting on something. Nope, my butt is just swollen. So thats lovely. I had a migraine for about three days after. Thats what I get for wearing shoes.

We were in Thailand this weekend being tourists and seeing some friends. Bangkok is HUGE!

On Thursday on the back of a motorcycle taxi I got lost on the way back to the house. Lost sight of Alex and everything familiar. I had no phone and just enough money to pay the driver. I saw a sign that looked familiar so I just got off and started walking two blocks later I found it. Olga somehow made it back too.

God is good to us.

On Saturday night we went to the night market. It was Olga, Alex and I. Olga shops real slow. I move faster. So usually I just lap around and come back to check. Well, this market is HUGE. And about my fourth lap back Olga and Alex had vanished. Ok, I'll keep shopping and I'll probably find them somewhere.... An hour later... Well, shoot.

I took this picture while lost.

I eventually gave up shopping to sit and wait for them to appear and them when that didn't work I went into search mode. I met another man who had lost his friends. We laughed about being those people. haha. I started asking sellers if they had seen my friend with the big hair. "No, no! Buy something!"

I got so lucky and spotted them down an aisle. We were reunited and Alex exclaimed, "I'm never letting you out of my sight again!"

God has always done an excellent job of keeping my in one piece.

It just seems to be a little more time consuming job this year.

Drenched.

Last night it rained. And I mean, it always rains, but last night it REALLY rained.

On a scale from one to ten, from mist to monsoon, it was a Hurricane Katrina type situation.

I had just walked in the apartment when it started to come down. Saturday evenings we spend over at Tim and Fay's eating dinner, playing games and socializing. Olga had decided to not go and wanted to make chai and watch a movie. I wanted to do the same, but after I went to Tim and Fay's for a few minutes.

After being gone longer than I expected, Olga was a little huffy when I walked in because it was 8:17. Which we both agreed was too late to start a movie. [We're 80 years old, I am aware.] It started raining moments after I walked in, the kind of rain that soaks you in seconds that comes in through open windows and washes the sides of houses.

I jumped up- Olga, we have to go outside and dance in the rain, and we have to do it NOW! Put some dirty clothes on. We're goin.

What? Annie, no. What?

Get up! We're going outside.

Ok.

Outside we went. Our little porch was already flooded. And our balcony had ankle deep water on it. We jumped up and down, we yelled, we danced. And when the excitement wore off we ran to Tim and Fay's to get others to dance with us.

On the way over I realized I was shivering. It was a big moment, that hasn't happened since I got to this country.

Fay came out to see what was happening, and Nay-ha, Avak, Sumara and Lesley all came out to dance with us. We ran back up to the rooftop and danced, yelled, jumped and celebrated a God who lets it rain.

These situations don't come around very often. We are not often provided with an opportunity to throw our hands up in the air and yell just because we can. Or maybe, we don't take enough chances to, we decide to stay inside when it rains.

Thats all well and good, but getting up and going outside, being free, and full of LIFE, well, that doesn't feel too bad either.

More than enough.

One might argue that home is an important place to have.

I would tend to agree.

This weekend we went to Siem Reap, a province in northern Cambodia. The home of Angkor Wat. Which was AMAZING. Well worth the $20.

We stayed at the orphanage, Wat Prey Esu which means The temple of Jesus. It was an inspiring time. The missionaries are dedicated and it was amazing to watch. They live without electricity, running water, and even real toilets. I loved the way their school life and home life mixed by living right there. We slept on the porch of our house, and took showers outside by pumping our own water. I could go on and on about how the orphanage was amazing, and the people running it were people of God. Serving with such faith I was blown away.

But all weekend I was a little homesick. Not homesick for Walla Walla, or Oregon. Homesick for Phnom Penh. A break from the city was good, and I'm all for adventure, but when the bus crossed the bridge back into Phnom Penh I felt relief. We stepped off the bus into hot, stinky, wonderful Phnom Penh. We got a tuk tuk to bring us to the mission. I directed him in using Khmer words and when we reached home asked if I spoke Khmer? I told him in Khmer, a little. It was an exciting moment.

We walked upstairs and we're greeted by Alia and Akrom, our Pakistani neighbors, with hugs and water and lots of "we missed yous!" Alia told us it has taken a while, Olga and I were a little quiet in the beginning, but we've become their family, and they ours. A little while after we got home Alia came up with chai and food. Feels good.

I went to the market to buy fruit. The bread man, who in my head I call Frank, waved at me, and I waved back. I stopped at the corn lady, in my head she is Marggie, and she greeted me like I was her long lost child. After asking how I was she began to speak very quickly in Khmer. I told her I don't speak very much! She shook her head fervently and said in Khmer, no no! Your Khmer is good! She continued talking and laughing and I laughed when she laughed and nodded emphatically when it seemed appropriate. I got on my bike and said in Khmer, see you later! And she smiled and waved.

After dropping things off at the apartment, and the guard laughing at me for semi-running in the wall on my way in. I ran to school to get work and say hi to my kids. My ESL kids saw me and ran over and providing me with hugs and Kynom nok nea! [I missed you!]. Nothing feels quite so good.

This is home. I feel such deep contentedness I can't even put it into words. I LOVE LOVE LOVE my kids and my job. I love the people that live on the mission.

And I love Olga. We're sitting on the couch listening to hymns and laughing about how we've been listening to the same five or six songs all night.

I feared complete surrender to God when I began my time here. I was afraid of what it would take. But I gave in, and nothing has ever tasted so sweet. God has provided me with not a house but a home. He has provided me not with friends, but with family.

Life is excellent. The feeling of home is wonderful.

God is amazing.

"Oh God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more."

Laughter.

I'm happy. Really happy. One way I can gauge my happiness level is through laughter.

There have been stages of laughter since I arrived in Cambodia.
The first stage was not real laughter. It was the polite laughter, the laughter you give to strangers. It was the phase when I would have given anything to be back at camp.

Stage two was more comfortable laughter. Life was making a turn for the better. My students were lovely. I was getting into the swing of things. My second Sabbath here was the first time I really laughed out loud. It was Saturday night game night at Tim and Fay's, and Fay was teaching me to make popcorn. She was struggling to get the lid on the pot and I joked, maybe someone who knows how should teach me. Shona, one of the Australian long term missionaries, BUSTED up. Fay gave me this LOOK that told me I would never be receiving popcorn again and walked away. Haha! Shonna and I laughed for about five minutes and have been bonded ever since. I tried to apologize to Fay, but it was a little difficult through all the laughter. Pretty soon Fay cracked a smile and began to laugh with us.

Stage three was honeymoon phase. Everything was perfect, everything was amazing. I spent my days giggling at babies, men peeing on the side of the street, and the bread seller man who calls me 'little foreigner' in Khmer. It wasn't deep laughter, it was growing though. The other SMs were becoming my people, we laughed about little things. My students were becoming my children.

And now, now I don't know. It could still be the honeymoon phase for all I know. But it doesn't feel the same. It's become daily life. Things aren't new or exciting, but I'm not unhappy at all. On Sunday I laughed more than I have since my time here began. Olga, Phil and I went to Wat Phnom and rode elephants and fed monkey. We ate pancakes on the water front and we bought North Face backpacks for nine dollars. We laughed about Olga and I having little catchphrases. Mine, seriously?! And Olga, Really?! Phil said something and we both responded with our phrases and Phil laughed hard. He has told us that between Olga and I talking to each other and Nayha [our three year old neighbor] always being like HUUUUAAAHHH?! When she doesn't understand, Phil will be entertained for the rest of the year.
This is the good kind of laughter. It's the kind that you have to be here for, that comes from time together and shared experiences. The kind that means we are bonded.
I love my class. I love knowing that Soveacha will come in from grade 7 to tell me she misses ESL. And Joshua reading in his singing voice kills me. Telling Bot we're going to play a game and then changing my mind, he pouts SO big. Sen Sopeak and Boreach being best friends and coming to tell me a story half in Khmer and then laughing hysterically, I usually laugh right along with them.

There are so many little things. The laughter is more personal these days. I'm not laughing because I need to. I'm laughing because at this point this is home. And Kinyoum bro-chia-chon [These are my people].
When I walked into English vespers on Saturday night barefoot Shonna looked at me and said, "You're just lovin this Cambodia thing aren't you?" I could only laugh and nod.

There is Jimmy Needham song- So this is what it feels like to live life...

Who knows for sure.

It was pointed out to me that out of the four of us SMs I am probably going to be the one that gets hit by a car. I think the words, unaware and oblivious were used.

This afternoon I rode my bike to the market. The clouds here are just incredible. They spend everyday just blowing my mind. So as I was riding my bike I was staring up thinking I had a pretty good grasp on traffic around me.

WRONG.

Hit by a car.

Now, before you go and get too excited. You should know, the car was probably parked. And I probably rode my bike into it.

Which is hilarious until you learn, this is not the first time this has happened since I got to Cambodia, it's more like the second. And I think that fact makes it a little bit sad. haha.

There is a metaphor for my life somewhere in there. Spending too much time in the clouds I am too often knocked off my feet by reality. A reality that isn't going to change. The only thing that can change is the way I act. But all too often I get back on and start riding in the same way, hoping for a different outcome.

It's either beautiful or a bit tragic. I think I am too much of an optimist for my own good. Oh, it'll be different this time. Right...?

Change my course or change my line of sight. Or something. What are my options?!

There is that quote: Don't look down, because everything that has come, came from above.

What if I change my major? Just a thought. But a pretty serious one.

I'm just going to give it to God and go to bed. 5:45 always seems to come a bit too early.

On the brightside

This morning, as simply as I could, I asked if any of my students had something they would like to pray about. Not many of my students are Adventist, not many understood what I was asking. One of my dorm girls raised her hand and said, Pakistan. I was shocked. How did she know?

With two million people "significantly affected", this can bring no good to a country that is already unstable. With Ramadam ending on Saturday, too many people will celebrating in a place that is not their home.

Tomorrow is the ninth anniversary of September 11, 2001. I read an article from the New York Times this afternoon about a woman whose husband worked in one of the towers and was killed when the they fell. He was, and she still is, Muslim. And every year on the anniversary of that day in 2001, she goes to the where the towers once stood and prays to Allah. The same Allah that drove men to bring them to the ground.

These are the stories that make my insides ache.

This week one of my students went missing, and 8th grader. I noticed after lunch on Tuesday. Where is Sryneang? One of the other 8th graders told me, she went to the hospital with her brother.

My thought was: Oh, I hope her brother is ok.
Dumbest thought ever.

A few minutes later the phone rang, Vice-Principal Sopeak asked me to send Sryneang to the office. She's not... here...? Oh no.

After school I was called down to Principal Sharon's office and she and Sopeak told me a story I did not want to hear. Sryneang had not shown up for lunch, I had noticed that. Apparently during that time she went to Sopeak and said she needed to leave school to take her drivers test, she begged and she pleaded. Sopeak told her to wait. She didn't.

She lied to Sopeak, she lied to her friends, she didn't say anything to me. The boy she left with was not her brother, and she wasn't going to take her drivers test.

After school Sryneang's mother was sitting in the office crying. And I exited I looked at the mother who was staring at me. Her face was asking me the same questions I was asking myself. Where was her daughter? How could we just let her leave like that!?

My heart hurt for her.

I walked back to my classroom in a daze. I couldn't fight the feeling, somehow I could have stopped this. Somehow this was my fault. If I had made sure she was at lunch, if I had called Sopeak immediately after learning she wasn't in class..

The following morning in staff meeting Sharon told the teachers what had happened, Sryneang was still missing. She never came home. Stunned. Words like, prostitution, and kidnapped, were used. This can't be happening. There is no quality police system in this country, the only thing we could do was hope and pray.

And pray I did.
Jesus and I talked ALL day. I tried to keep class moving, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

During seventh period I was in the office making copies when Kim Serieng came running in shouting in Khmer. Sopeak immediately grabbed his phone and hurriedly started talking to someone in Khmer. By this time all of the office workers had walked over, but before I can ask what was happening Sopeak is off the phone and looks at me--

They found her.

God is good.

So I guess it's not all bad news.

There are new schools for South Africa's black townships are bringing hope for a future for a people that have been without quality schools for a very long time. Look it up, it's an amazing story.

Maybe I can't feed 200,000+ people that are going with adequate food today in Pakistan, and maybe I can't put of the fire in San Francisco, but I can pray.

And I can spend my days being invested in the lives of 27 ESL students. Today as school ended, all of my girls and all of the younger boys hugged me on their way out of the room. Maybe they don't know English so well, but they know they are loved. And thats a step in the right direction.

LOVE.

One of the SMs told us the other day that he doesn't use the "L-word" very often. It's not a commitment he is willing to make. That is just no way to live life. I, on the other hand, am a love-whore. Lets just be serious, if it's even worth liking a little I will use the 'love' word.

So in the spirit of love, and the fact that I am entering weeks six of being in Cambodia. I have made a list of the things I love about Cambodia.

1. My students.
Oh man, they make life worth living. Everyone is a little worried about the fact that I am probably going to start kidnapping children. Starting with Joshua. Joshua is one of my third graders. He waits for me at lunch so we can walk together. He is so kind, always helping and letting others go first. He lives in the dorm, and most every day about twenty minutes after school he shows up in my classroom, so say hi, straighten desks, or just sit and talk to me. The language barrier is SO frustrating sometimes, I just want to talk to him! To know him better! But the only thing I can do is ask him simples questions and learn Khmer.
I love the rest of my students. All of grade three is amazing. Pannha, is the sweetest, and Sen Sopeak thinks it's hilarious when I call him Sen Sopeak, Sen is the family name, but it just flows so I use it all. I love grade seven, they are loud. And lingphy in grade eight wants to learn and tries hard and I really appreciate that.
I love all of my kids. All 28 of them.

2. Where I live.
Seriously. Most amazing SM housing ever. Olga and I live in the steeple of the church. It's AMAZING. It's not very big, but we've made it work. All our pictures are hung, I bought a lamp, and the fridge is full of fruit. Our apartment has become home. Something is always broken, I broke the toilet while cleaning on Friday. Not that big of a deal. haha. :] Olga and I are well suited for living together, life couldn't be better.

3. Going to the market.
Going to the market is one of my favorite activities. I go several times a week, sometimes I go just to go. I love riding my bike over to the market close to the mission, buying fruit on the outside and going inside for vegetables and everything else. I love the dirty, hot and smelliness of it all. I love the old man that I always buy bread from. I love buying bread for 700 Riel, which is less than a quarter. I love being able to understand numbers, and knowing when I am being charged too much.

4. Phnom Penh.
This country has had a torn history. But they have come out of devastation a kind and gentle people. Everyone smiles and says hello, everything is brightly colored. I love going into the city and exploring. I love the restaurants with good food for two dollars, or corn off the street for a quarter. I love the crazy traffic, and riding in tuk tuks. I love the brightly colored wats that stand out every where we go. Everything is so different than what I have come from. I love it.

5. The weather.
I thought I had experience rain before. I was wrong. There is nothing like rain that is hitting the ground so hard it bounces up into the tuk tuk. Rain that soaks you in ten seconds. Rain that floods the streets in a matter of minutes. Rain that is so loud it drowns out voices, thoughts. It is overpowering. I love it. I love being at home and opening the windows and listening to it. Soon it will stop raining for good and just be hot all the time. Not so jazzed about that, but the rain, the rain I love.

6. The people that live on the mission.
There are some good people here. Tim and Fay are like our parents. They take care of us. If we have problems or needs, they are here for us. Sharon and Gary, principal and husband. She is our boss, and at around five feet tall, towers above all of us. She and Gary are wonderful. There are a few others, Augusta and her husband and kids. The Khans live right below Olga and I. Every time we walk by Nay-ha [pronunciation, not spelling] the youngest daughter yells, Ba-gee Annie! [not the correct spelling]. They're from Pakistan and sometimes food appears at our door. It's lovely. And Dean and Ruth, he is the president, they're some of the nicest people.

7. Teachers of school.
All of the grade school teachers come in and help in ESL. They don't complain when I have them do ridiculous things. Kim Serieng is my main helper. He is my savior. He does it all, and then asks for more. He is the hardest working man often going above and beyond. He helps in my classroom, teaches a class, and is the dean of the dorm. He is amazing.

8. Sabbath.
I have never been so thankful for anything. It's the one break a week we get. 24 hours of peace. Living at the mission is wonderful on Sabbath. We go downstairs for church, and no one wears shoes inside the church, so often I don't even wear shoes down. More than once I have not put on shoes the entire day. It's lovely. The day is full of activities, but it is also full of community and love for others and God.

9. God.
We sang a song in chapel in Friday, God is big! God is very very very very very very big! The kids LOVED it. After chapel during the last class of the day, while they were working on things we started singing it in Khmer. It was hilarious. God is in Cambodia. It's a God that works in different ways than I have experienced before. I'm still trying to work it out, I don't know how to put it into words. But God is good. So good. I'm in the right place, serving the right God.


This is only a short list. I could just go on and on.

I'm six weeks in and I am in love with this place.
I'm love with all of the arbitrary moments during the day filled with happiness for this life I feel priviledged to lead.

I'm in love with the God that brought me here. How dare I not love freely, and with all that I have.

Adventuring.

Cambodia is great.

It really is.

But on Friday I was lagging. It had been a rough week, I was exhausted. I had been sick and missed a day of school. I was just grumpy and irritated. There was some good news that came out of the week. My schedule has been SO crazy I couldn't handle it, so I went to Sharon and asked if there was anything I could do to fix it. The entire grade school schedule was changed so that I could have two free periods a day. It is week five of school and for the past four weeks I have been teaching seven periods a day. Just too much.

An SM from 2004, Jonathan was in town and wanted to do a motorbike trip to the beach. Phil, Olga, Travis and I had been planning on going to Siem Reap for the weekend and the idea of spending four hours each way on the back of a bike did not sound awesome. We went out to eat Thursday night to this little vegetarian restaurant based around mushrooms. Plates were about 75 cents each and SO good. During dinner Jonathan talked us out of Siem Reap and into day trips out of the city.

On Friday after school I was grumpy and wasn't feeling well. The plan was Uodong, the old capital about an hour outside of the city. I wasn't going to go. I needed a nap, some down time. But I argued with myself, really, Annie? You're in Cambodia, don't be a dummy. Go.

So I did. Best decision ever.





I rode on the back of Jonathan's bike and three minutes into the ride I was overjoyed about life. We rode out of the city, and it was so beautiful. There are so many things different about this place, we drove past homes made of sticks and blankets. We drove by ox pulling carts, and truck loads full of Khmers. It's so flat here. The only hill in town has a wat on it. It's a big deal. As we got closer Jonathan pointed out where we were going way in the distance on a hill. I was excited. I need hills! I need views!

This is not an important part of the story, but I was SO sweaty. Just riding the bikes in the sun was bad. Then we climbed the hill. I seriously don't know that I have ever been so gross.

Anyway. The view from the top was AMAZING. There was the temples and everything, but I was in it for the view.

Sabbath was potluck, which is everyone's favorite. So we decided to stay until after lunch and then scoot on over to Silk Island. Not too far from the city it used to be a huge production place for silk. Mostly shut down now, it is just an island. We were going to meet up with some of the teachers, but after being lost for a while we got over there a little late. Driving through the island people noticed we were white and EVERYONE said, Hello! EVERYONE. While we were waiting to be found we stopped at a house. The boys played volleyball with the locals and I was almost killed by a cow. By the time we met up with the other teachers it was starting to get dark and those ominous rain clouds were moving in. So they showed us a few things and we headed home.

Sunday we had to return the bikes at 10am so we woke up early, and went to the Killing Fields. It's so surreal, all of these places I've read about and studied and wrote papers on. They're here. I get to see them and experience them. I still can't believe it.

After The Killing Fields we ate pancakes on the river front and went to the Russian Market. I am in love. Phil was laughing at me, because I was walking through freaking out about everything that I wanted. We bought hammocks. Two for four dollars. JAZZED.

After we got back to the mission I needed to go to the market. Olga and I for some reason never have food. Jonathan and I rode our bikes over and he showed me a few places around Toul Kork (where we live) that I hadn't seen. It was so nice to have someone here who knows things and is wants to go on adventures. We played Settlers that evening and Jonathan taught Phil and I to count in Khmer. My students love it, and it has already come in handy at the market.

Monday Jonathan came to school and helped out in my classroom for a bit. He rallied the sixth graders and got them to try. Which, is no small feat. After school the other SMs went school supply shopping. I didn't need to go, so Jonathan and I rode into town a bit.

It was nice to have a fresh boy face here. Phil is quieter and Travis is... well... Travis. And I really appreciated Jonathan's lively-ness, and energy.






I am in love with Cambodia. And on days when I forget that, Jesus brings old SMs to remind me.

I'm in Cambodia. It's an adventure in itself. But the big lesson I learned this weekend, was sitting on your bum is lame. Get outside. Life is worth living.

Mark Twain said it well--
Twenty years from now you'll be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sail. Explore. Dream. Discover.

Home-ish.

In Walla Walla I was a regular at pretty much every coffee shop. I could walk into Black Cup and have coffee waiting for me without even having to say anything. It was comfortable, it was familiar, it was home.

There is no Black Cup in Phnom Penh.

We, or at least I, need comfort. I need something that is familiar.

I read an e-mail from a friend this week reminding me about freshman year at Walla Walla when we would go to Safeway for groceries before we would go anywhere else, because Safeway reminded us of home. But as we grew more comfortable we went to Andy's, and Shop Co. and those places slowly became our own.

In my search for something homey Fay told me about The Shop. After school one day she showed Olga and I where it was-- closer to the mission than the school is. I rode my bike over the next day and found what I had been missing since I got here.

It's a wonderful little coffee shop. You walk through the gate off the hot crowded street and onto this little oasis. There is ac and big tables for working on lesson plans. The closest thing I could compare it to is The Patisserie in Walla Walla. Except, that instead of $7 for a dessert type thing, it is $2. It is too expensive for most Khmers here so it is mostly foreigners eating here.

I've started coming here after school sometimes and on Sundays to do lesson plans, and read. I feel comfortable here. I sit in the same spot and I order the same thing. I like being predictable about some things at least. Not anything in my life is predictable at this point, except exhaustion, and heat.

When I walked in today a few of the waitstaff gave me a smile that told me they recognized me. That I wasn't a stranger. And being in a country where pretty much everything is still strange, being recognized is a good feeling.

I'm pretty excited to be a regular again.

My Side of the World

It's hard to put life into words. I think about this blog thing during the day. The moments I would like to share. But to understand moments the big picture has to be understood and I haven't shared that yet. Daily life seems so daily, but I guess if you're not here it is out of the norm. Even for me it is crazy, and I'm living it.

I am looking forward to the day that I don't have remind myself, and the other SMs that we live in Cambodia. But seriously, I LIVE IN CAMBODIA. It's just strange.

I'm starting to form routines and habits here. Which is comforting. m
I wake up around 5:45. Get dressed and turn on the computer. That is 4pm home time and there has been someone on Skype pretty much every day. It's been nice to start my day with a home connection. I ride my bike to school, it is a little more than half a mile. The first few times were terrifying! We have to cross this five way intersection and then a busy two lane rode. And the way people drive here it if often a six lane rode. I get started at, honked at, and sometimes yelled at. It's just another day.

I teach ESL. I am the only teacher that has kids all seven periods during the day. I have 28 students from 2nd to 8th grade. It's like I am a teacher in a one room school. Except they leave my room for math, english, and khmer. So my lesson plans and what I am doing when looks different each day and there is often more than one thing happening at once. The other teachers are assigned to come in and help me when they don't have classes but I am still often shorthanded. But we get by.

The kids LOVE when I ask what a word is in Khmer. [Which you pronounce Kim-ear by the way] And during lunch today they taught me about 30 words. 5 of which I can remember now. The phrase I use the most in class is, we speak english in ESL! And when I use a Khmer word because I know it they say to me-- Cha! We speak English is ESL! I'm still working on learning names. These are not American names and it is taking a little longer, but I am getting there!

There are four SMs at CAS this year. Travis and Phil live at the school and Olga and I live at the mission. Olga and I came from the same social background... You know what I mean? Friends with everyone. And the first couple of days we had a conversation about the only girlfriends we have now are each other. It's been a transition, but having someone that understands what I'm going through is huge. Her first language is Spanish and we tease her about being our own little ESL student.

This last Friday we had vespers at the school. The sun goes down aroud six all year here. As Olga and I rode our bikes onto campus it started pouring. POURING. And it did not stop. It was so loud, overpowering. I don't know how to put it into words. Vespers was outside under the picnic area and as vespers was happening we could see lightning coming down and hitting outside of the school it was pretty amazing. The funniest part though was when the thunder was loud enough to set the car alarm off on Tim and Fay's car a number of times.






Sabbath is probably going to be my favorite day of the week. Church is at 9:30, it is translated but it hasn't been anything special so I usually have just been drifting off and reading my Bible. There is potluck every other week on the mission at someones house. On the off week someone has potluck for just a small group, and I feel like that is mostly to make sure the SMs eat something good at least once a week. haha. This week it was at Tim and Fay's. There was a large number of people there with people from all over the world. It is pretty amazing to hear some of their stories. I feel so blessed to have the chance to meet and know the long term missionaries here. They are some good people. After lunch the other SMs and I went with some of the ADRA people to a house church outside the city. It was AMAZING! To watch these people be drawn in by the story of Jesus was just... It is an experience that can't be measured. I think that is how I will be spending my Sabbath afternoons this year. Looking out the window during church about 15 ox ran by and a boy maybe age eight driving a tuk tuk went by. There is no one adjective that can do this place justice.


Sabbath evening we have english vespers. It is always something different. And I really like closing the Sabbath all together. After vespers is always dinner and games at Tim and Fay's. There is always a big group and always Rook. It reminds me of weekends in Walla Walla and I like it. I get teased a lot because I never know what is happening in Rook, and dumb mistakes have now been coined "pulling an Annie". We laugh a lot. And I feel bonded by these inspiring people who have given up a life of monetary wealth for something that is much more valuable.

There is so much I want to share. I want to talk about my students and specific people on the mission. And I will. There is just a lot to take in. I sit down to write and I realize I am overwhelmed by all that is happening here. How can I even put it into words that can be understood? And as I wander my way into the honeymoon phase and begin to fall in love with this place, I am thankful for the people here that will truly make it home.

The view outside my window is vastly different than it was a month ago. My friend circle is different, my priorities are changing. What I think about when I fall asleep is different.

I struggle with change.

But I have a bruise the size of my fist on my knee, and I fell up the stairs at school today, so I guess not everything has changed.