And just like that, I'm back in Cambodia. Some quick highlights my first few weeks back...
No small miracle...
After twenty-four hours of travel (consumed, I admit, with obsessively pouring over The Hunger Games book series on my iPad), I descended into Phnom Penh with the realization that I didn't have a standard passport photo with me...which is required for the visa...which is required to enter the country..and which im pretty sure they don't have the equipment to do for forgetful people such as myself. I always carry at least one such photo in my wallet but had taken it out in Alaska and left it there. I was imagining being stuck at the airport late at night with my friends waiting just outside and customs keeping me there...
I stood in line and handed the official my form, and when he asked for my photo I told him in Khmer that I didn't have it. Suddenly I remembered I had a photo copy of my passport so I grabbed that out of my bag and handed it to him. He gave me a sideways look and then took scissors and cut my face out and stapled it on my official visa document! Hah! So official! Thank you to all who prayed for my safe travels - I'm quite sure your prayers were covering me in that moment!
First Impressions
It's amazing how a place can feel so far away for a long time and then in just a moment (or one plane ride later) feel like you never left. Cambodia is familiar now. For the entire time I was in America, although my mom's guestroom, blow up-mattresses, spare rooms, and my dear friend's bed and breakfast suite were all lovely and gracious accomodations, the fact remained that the only real bedroom I have in the world is here in Cambodia. And walking into my house here felt like home. It has struck me though, that in creating a home around the world, that I've now spread my heart out in three places, and no matter where I go I will always have longing and missing and goodbyes. I feel sad about that. So glad and so sad.
That was one arriving impression.
I also remembered that Cambodia has a smell! Its a distinct smell, although not one that I could adequately describe or dissect in worlds. Like an incense-infused-exhaust smell steeped in humidity that my nose knows is Phnom Penh. Kinda like Alaska has a certain crispy-clear-mountain-air smell and Portland has a distinct green-rain-on-pavement smell... I love it.
Settling in + Buying a moto!
I recovered from jet lag and spent several days doing various errands and visits, including starting a Khmer language class, fixing my flat bike tire, getting an in-country bank account, grocery shopping, seeing old coworkers and reconnecting with friends. And then the weekend came...and I went on a moto hunt.
(Insert at my dad's requeat a caveat to clarify that I do not mean a Harley or ginormous dirt bike or anything of the sort, but instead what we call a scooter or moped in America).
I started the weekend with a moto-driving lesson from a friend, and then followed up on a great recommendation for a moto sales guy who doubles as a mechanic and guarantees to show up and fix your bike if it breaks, any time, anywhere. Sweet deal. I had my heart set on a manual teal green Honda Wave (just for the color), but he and others talked me out of a manual moto for ease and safety. After looking quite apathetically at just a few...I saw it. This beautiful blue Suzuki Hayate. A 2007 with a huge inside seat compartment to fit my purse, and best of all - the get up and go of a 125cc scooter. It was like a first crush. After much bargaining and test driving I made myself, at the suggestion of friends who came to help me, walk away to think about it overnight. But I couldn't get it out of my head. It was my bike. I even talked to my motodop friends outside my apartment and they told me it's 'aht s'aht' (not beautiful) and that a manual was better and cheaper on gas ($5 vs. $3 a tank). But I couldn't be swayed. Besides, not beautiful means it's not likely to be stolen. Even better. So... I did it.
Now I'm starting work (loving it) and learning how to drive (a healthy mix of loving and fearing) and practicing writing Khmer letters for homework at night. ...I'm really glad to be back!
No small miracle...
After twenty-four hours of travel (consumed, I admit, with obsessively pouring over The Hunger Games book series on my iPad), I descended into Phnom Penh with the realization that I didn't have a standard passport photo with me...which is required for the visa...which is required to enter the country..and which im pretty sure they don't have the equipment to do for forgetful people such as myself. I always carry at least one such photo in my wallet but had taken it out in Alaska and left it there. I was imagining being stuck at the airport late at night with my friends waiting just outside and customs keeping me there...
I stood in line and handed the official my form, and when he asked for my photo I told him in Khmer that I didn't have it. Suddenly I remembered I had a photo copy of my passport so I grabbed that out of my bag and handed it to him. He gave me a sideways look and then took scissors and cut my face out and stapled it on my official visa document! Hah! So official! Thank you to all who prayed for my safe travels - I'm quite sure your prayers were covering me in that moment!
First Impressions
It's amazing how a place can feel so far away for a long time and then in just a moment (or one plane ride later) feel like you never left. Cambodia is familiar now. For the entire time I was in America, although my mom's guestroom, blow up-mattresses, spare rooms, and my dear friend's bed and breakfast suite were all lovely and gracious accomodations, the fact remained that the only real bedroom I have in the world is here in Cambodia. And walking into my house here felt like home. It has struck me though, that in creating a home around the world, that I've now spread my heart out in three places, and no matter where I go I will always have longing and missing and goodbyes. I feel sad about that. So glad and so sad.
That was one arriving impression.
I also remembered that Cambodia has a smell! Its a distinct smell, although not one that I could adequately describe or dissect in worlds. Like an incense-infused-exhaust smell steeped in humidity that my nose knows is Phnom Penh. Kinda like Alaska has a certain crispy-clear-mountain-air smell and Portland has a distinct green-rain-on-pavement smell... I love it.
Settling in + Buying a moto!
I recovered from jet lag and spent several days doing various errands and visits, including starting a Khmer language class, fixing my flat bike tire, getting an in-country bank account, grocery shopping, seeing old coworkers and reconnecting with friends. And then the weekend came...and I went on a moto hunt.
(Insert at my dad's requeat a caveat to clarify that I do not mean a Harley or ginormous dirt bike or anything of the sort, but instead what we call a scooter or moped in America).
I started the weekend with a moto-driving lesson from a friend, and then followed up on a great recommendation for a moto sales guy who doubles as a mechanic and guarantees to show up and fix your bike if it breaks, any time, anywhere. Sweet deal. I had my heart set on a manual teal green Honda Wave (just for the color), but he and others talked me out of a manual moto for ease and safety. After looking quite apathetically at just a few...I saw it. This beautiful blue Suzuki Hayate. A 2007 with a huge inside seat compartment to fit my purse, and best of all - the get up and go of a 125cc scooter. It was like a first crush. After much bargaining and test driving I made myself, at the suggestion of friends who came to help me, walk away to think about it overnight. But I couldn't get it out of my head. It was my bike. I even talked to my motodop friends outside my apartment and they told me it's 'aht s'aht' (not beautiful) and that a manual was better and cheaper on gas ($5 vs. $3 a tank). But I couldn't be swayed. Besides, not beautiful means it's not likely to be stolen. Even better. So... I did it.
Now I'm starting work (loving it) and learning how to drive (a healthy mix of loving and fearing) and practicing writing Khmer letters for homework at night. ...I'm really glad to be back!
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