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.