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.