Pic of the week - Cambodian U-Haul

I have realized that after over six months in Cambodia, the amount of pictures I have taken is just dismally low.

Sometimes I think that not even pictures could capture the feelings in some of the more interesting moments here, and to an extent, I think thats true.  But I need to make more of an effort to visually capture the good and bad, the funny and the sad and the daily and the extraordinary.  If nothing else, I will want photographic evidence when I am explaining my PC stories to friends and family back home.

Therefore, I am going to try my damnedest to be consistent in taking and posting a new "special picture" every week.  I try to include pictures in my normal blog posts when I can, but I am hoping that this weekly segment will encourage me to keep my camera at the ready so I can capture all those things I have been meaning to or wish that I had the chance to but my camera was out of reach.

Over the weekend, Kate and I visited our training village.  It had been over two months since we last saw our training host grandma and she was so happy to see us.  We bumped into a few other friends we had made in the town as well.  It felt good to know those relationships didn't just disintegrate after we left.

Anyhow, on the 12k trip there, I came across this beauty.  Not uncommon here, but still so amazing.  I stopped my bike to snap a few shots.

The driver slowed down to say hi to me as he saw I was taking his picture, and the two guys riding on top were all to happy to smile and wave.

I have always hated moving day, but I guess I was just doing it wrong.

Despite the incredibly dangerous traffic hazard this could be, it shows a lot about Cambodian resourcefulness, their attitudes and lack of understanding about traffic safety and strong desire to get the job done in as few moves as possible.

Why take two cars when we can fit nine people in a Toyota Camery?  Not a riddle and not a joke.  I've been there...

Spaghetti Dinner (Part 3)

Essentially, they loved it.  

By they of course, I mean my family, and by it of course, I mean the delicious spaghetti I made for them.  

While our host nephew decided against trying the food (he is really picky/spoiled), both the girls ate the pasta sans sauce (at least they tried it).  

Opting for rice over the (obviously) more delicious spaghetti
and homemade pasta sauce.  He did, however, guzzle
down several glasses of Coke that we had brought. 

Host nephew getting his come-uppins for being such a (cute) little snot. 

Our host mother, sister, brother and Khmer tutor ate numerous bowls of pasta and sauce - whether or not they were truly enjoying it or just being polite is something I will never know.  

However, the dinner was full of laughs, talking about how much we were thankful for each other and of course, how delicious the food was.  

Our host mom and host sister chowing down on some spaghetti. 

A family dinner, in every sense of the term. 

Kate and our Khmer tutor, Thany.  She is pretty freakin' awesome. 

An impromptu English study session during dinner.  The highlight of our host
niece's reading is when she recites the alphabet, "A - apple, B - bird, C - cat..."

My host brother had a wedding to attend while we ate, but he ended up making it home to try a bit of pasta and "ankoi lang" or literally translated, "sit-play." 

                     Host sister and host brother, husband and wife.  

I don't typically imbibe alcohol around the family - I don't want to give off a negative image that sometimes accompanies alcohol consumption in this country.  But in this case, it was a celebratory event, my tutor and host mom were also kicking a few back, so I felt that it was appropro to have a cold brew with them. 

Host niece and I goofin' around.  I promise, she was not drinking beer.  I was...

One more...

Happily, the evening was everything I had hoped for.  While I have always felt very close to this family, showing them how much they meant to Kate and I seemed only natural and well-recieved.  At one point during the dinner Kate and I needed to run out to grab a medical package that PC had sent Kate in a spur-of-the-moment decision.  Kate was going to go and get it herself until our mom shooed me away with a gesture that said, "go with her, you are her husband and you need to make sure she is safe!"  The feeling of love mixed with obligation and guilt that this gesture produced in me, solidified how she has become such an important figure in our lives.  

At one point during the meal, Kate and I were joking around with each other in Khmer.  Nothing out of the usual...but our family remarked how much they enjoy us being able to "loosen up" around them and be ourselves.  They also can clearly see that, while we try to be respectful of their cultural norms, the love we have for each other is very evident.  

As a quick aside, this contradicts much of what we were taught during training, that often, its much better to toe the line of propriety and act in accordance with K'mai standards.  In fact, many times, our family likes to see how we act "normally."  This is not a comment about the shortcomings of PC training, only to note that in reality, our cultures often do not differ by all that much. 

The night came to a great end as Kate and I insisted on doing all the dishes and giving the family a true night off.  Again, the gesture was taken well and it was hard to peel ourselves away from the family and go back to our own house. 

All this to say that we have a fantastic host family in Cambodia, and the Spaghetti dinner was a huge success.  

Spaghetti Dinner (Part 2)

Whenever I cooked at home (Maryland), forgetting something from my recipe at the store was simply and easily rectified by jumping back in the car and making the five minute (roundtrip) journey back to and home from the store again.  Nonetheless, I am pretty sure I complained when this happened.

In Cambodia, it usually takes several trips to the market for me to gather the ingredients I need for more-complex-than-usual-dishes, mostly because they don't have enough of what I need or they don't have it at all.  In this case, 4.5 kilograms of ripe tomatoes, a half kilogram of pork, a half kilogram of green pepper, two onions, two carrots, garlic, and fresh parsley.  The tomatoes alone gave me cause to make two separate visits to two different markets.  Even getting this far gives me cause to be proud.

Ready to cook!

I had no intent of ever making this blog a "cooking blog," mostly because I could never do it as good as most of the ones I have seen out there already.  Also, I tend to "cook from the hip" and often don't ever work with recipes.  If I do, its usually something I have modified.  However, cooking spaghetti in Cambodia feels different than it would in America, so I have tried to capture the process here.

Skinning the tomatoes is the first step.  Its pretty simple, the tomatoes go into boiling water for about 30-40 seconds, and then immediately into cold water.  You don't want the tomatoes to cook, only to blanch the skins and then they will slide off.  Cook the tomatoes a few at a time so you can easily remove them form the water after 30-40 seconds.

An added bonus for boiling fruits and veggies in Cambodia is that
it kills any bacteria that may be on the outside of the produce. 

The skins should pop off real easily, then you are left with naked-looking tomatoes.  Don't throw out the tomato skins yet.

Disrobed, slippery tomatoes...

Now for the most tedious step. You need to remove any part of the tomato that won't cook down into a liquid-y sauce as well as most (not all, that is impossible) of the seeds.  So...cut the top part of the tomato off (the part where the stem meets the flesh) and squeeze the pulp into a sieve or strainer that will gather the seeds.  Allow the juice to run from the seeds through the strainer into a bowl underneath.  The rest of the tomato parts, is what the sauce will mainly consist of.  Use your hands, a blender or whatever to mash up the flesh the best you can and put it all in a big saucepan. Go ahead and turn the heat to low while you are doing the next few steps, the longer the tomatoes cook the better the sauce will be.
 

I don't have a lot of cooking supplies, so I sterilized a slatted bowl
for fruit and used it to catch the seeds and tough pulp. 

Save the juice, its really helpful later and usually contains lots of sugars from the tomatoes which helps to make a tastier sauce.  While the strainer is still over the bowl, squeeze the skins from earlier to ensure they the juice they hold makes it into your bowl.

I like to proceed by doing the following: take about eight or nine cloves of fresh garlic and half of an onion, chop them up fine and then put into a smaller saucepan with a few glugs of olive oil.  Brown, but don't burn, the onions and garlic.

Also give the tomatoes in your main pot a quick stir, don't let them burn on the bottom.  They should be simmering lightly.

Once the garlic and onions have been browned (and smell delicious) add about 2/3 of the tomato juice to the smaller saucepan and begin to season.

***NOTE: If your sauce ever gets to be too thick, that is when you add the rest of the tomato juice.  If you don't need it, fine, make yourself a tasty Bloody Mary...you deserve it.

You need to season this.  The tricky part is how your sauce is seasoned because this is largely dependent on the quantity of sauce you are making, personal preference, etc.  Start with a few tablespoons of salt, the same of oregano and basil (or an all-purpose italian seasoning), a few generous pinches of sugar, pepper, a little bit of chopped parsley and you are golden (I also like about half a tablespoon of cayenne pepper or hot sauce for a bit of kick).  Don't add too much, you can taste the sauce along the way and add more if needed, but if its too salty/peppery, you are kinda screwed.

Let that simmer, but keep an eye on it, don't let it burn.

At this point, your big saucepan of tomatoes should start looking like this:

You want this to continue simmering for a LONG time...for the amount of tomatoes I am using, (roughly 9lbs), it will go for about 2.5 hours.  You want the water to boil off from the tomatoes, the sauce to thicken, the tomatoes to breakdown and the juices from the tomatoes to caramelize (it will get darker).  I like to add a few pinches of salt to it right now, it seems to help coax the juice from the pulp of the tomatoes.

In the smaller saucepan, keep it simmering.  I like boiling the juice down to a paste-like consistency and since you seasoned this heavily, all the seasons and flavors will intermingle and concentrate.  It will take a good long while for the juice to turn into paste.  Keep it simmering, keep stirring and keep it from burning.

As both pots continue to simmer, and you continue to stir periodically, chop up the veggies and meat you want to add to the sauce.  Again, based on preference, for a smoother sauce, chop them up finer, for a chunkier sauce you'll want to chop them more coarsely.  I like a chunkier sauce so I usually cut up my carrots, onions and peppers fairly coarsely.

Ok, so your juice should be right about at the paste stage now.  Add it to the large saucepan with the majority of your tomatoes. This should all still be simmering now but with the paste now in, it should also be a bit thicker and darker.

Continue the simmering and the stirring and the thickening.  Take a small handful of the chopped green peppers and add it to your sauce now, this will help with the flavor of the sauce.  

Take the rest of the vegetables and put them in a skillet with a little oregano, a pinch of salt and pepper, some olive oil, and sauté until slightly browned.

Then, add the veggies to the sauce.

After this all you need to do is keep it simmering until you like the consistency.  You will also need to give it a few taste tests to fine tune the seasoning to your tastes.

In the end, it looks something like this:

Notice the darker color?  That is because the sugars from the tomatoes have caramelized.  Your sauce is now delicious.

One final step, if you want your sauce to have meat in it.  I chose to add some thinly sliced pork.  This is mostly because not having a dish with meat in it is a sign of frugality or poorness in Cambodia, I wanted my family to know that we cooked them a "good" meal that contained meat.

To keep it tender, I added the pork in the last couple minutes of simmering and let it continue to cook while the sauce cooled.  This way the pork stayed tender but still cooked through.

Now, after only like three or four hours in the kitchen and untold treks to countless markets (if you are making this sauce in Cambodia).

I never intended this to be such a cliff-hanging-three-part-post, but tomorrow I will post how the actual dinner went with the family (I promise!).

Spaghetti Dinner (Part 1)

If I have not already said this, let me make it clear: Kate and I have an amazing Cambodian family that we live next to.  They are as generous and kind as they are respectful of our privacy as a married couple living in a foreign country.

We live in a pretty awesome home here in Cambodia that, by comparison to most homes in this country, is more than satisfactory.  Our family has also gone to great efforts to ensure that we have all the things we need to more than get by: furniture, appliances...even cushions to sit on (a BIG luxury in Cambodia)!

Our K'mai family consists of six members: a mom, her daughter and her husband, and their three children (including a set of twins).

With the twins and their grandma, who we call "Mai," Khmer for Mom.   Also, my
host nephew is making a really satanic/hilarious face here

One of many nights when the twins crashed our house because they were bored.  
Apparently I missed the memo on the funny face picture.  

Single PCVs typically live with host families in a more complete way - they eat most meals with them, usually live in a room in their house and while they tend to become much closer with their families then a married PCV couple may, they also tend to have more issues with privacy, food and the daily grind.  

Kate and I live in a detached home on our host family's property, only a few meters away from their own home.  We can lock our doors and maintain our privacy if we want to.  

We choose to try to integrate into our family, in some way, on a daily basis.  I think you could say that we are like adopted members of the family most days.  Our "mom" calls us her children, the kids call us Aunt and Uncle and we interact with them as such pretty regularly.  

The kids run out to us when we get home from teaching and either ask us to play to help us put our bikes away.  We help them study English and they come into our house from time to time to see what we are watching on our computer (if I want them to leave I just say I am watching a movie about ghosts...perhaps immoral, but it works really well).  

Even though its not in the official agreement our family made with PC, they invite us over for lunch or dinner once a week or so and bring us fresh fruit several times a week.  We really appreciate their generosity, but even more, the balance they have struck giving us our privacy and inviting us into their family.  

After eating with them this past week, Kate and I decided to turn the tables and make them dinner instead.  

I have made homemade spaghetti sauce here several times already and thought that was the safest choice to give them a taste of foreign cuisine.  Several other PCVs have already attempted dinners similar to this with mixed results.  Sometimes the families really dig it, sometimes they put the sauce over rice because the noodles must just be too weird and other times I have heard of families eating only small amounts to say that they had tried it.  

I don't expect a home run, but I do hope that our family understands the gesture and tries the food.  

After another quick trip to the market tomorrow and a few hours in the kitchen, we will be serving dinner for the family.  Pictures and results to follow this weekend. 

Impressive, sir!

One of the constants of Peace Corps service is talking about the things you miss: food, places, weather, freedoms...

Sometimes it is almost taken for granted that the thing PCVs tend to miss the most are our family and friends that have been physically absent from our lives for an extended period of time.  The activities that I did at home, the things I ate and places I visited, don't mean as much without being in the context of the people I did them with.  

So when I talk about missing something like eating a Chipotle burrito, watching a hockey game or going for a run at home - its not only the action I truly miss, but doing the action with someone I love and miss.  

The other day I needed a laugh.  It was just one of those days where things didn't go right, the heat got to me and the lessons I taught at school flopped.  In Cambodia as in America, people can have bad days.  

So I tried to think of a time where I laughed until my sides hurt.  A Cheetos commercial immediately popped into mind: 

You may not think this commercial funny.  Hell, you may find it downright ridiculous and a complete waste of your time watching it now.  But when it first aired on TV I happened to watch it with my younger brother, Scott.  For some reason it really tickled us.  

Sometimes you are just in the right mood at the right time for something to come along and really make you laugh and enjoy something, even if you can't put your finger on what it is.  I am pretty sure Scott and I laughed at this for well over half an hour and then YouTubed it again after we stopped laughing, only to restart our snickering.  

During the bad day I had recently, I laughed mildly when I YouTubed this, somewhat disappointedly as I thought that it would bring me out of my funk.  

But when I wrote the dialogue from the commercial into a text and sent it to Scott, I couldn't control my laughter.  I think it was because I knew that he would read it, laugh and it would again connect us in the same ridiculous way it did some months ago.  

It worked anyhow.  And, not that it takes 9,000 miles and six months of absence to learn this, but a big thing the Peace Corps has helped me to understand is the power of companionship and how much more enjoyable the events of our life can be when we share them with people we love.  

What the hell is that smell?

I find myself asking myself this, rhetorically or aloud to my wife, on a regular basis in Cambodia.

Before coming to Cambodia I have been relatively well-traveled, including a semester abroad in Beijing.  So I assumed that I knew what I was in for with regard to the onslaught to my olfactory system.  I may have underestimated Cambodia's might in this department.

A few examples...

The markets are probably the first stop for anyone coming to Cambodia and wanting an authentic experience buying groceries, haggling on the price of a shirt or see how life here continually carries on in the smaller towns and villages.

In most markets, there are certain sections for certain kinds of sellers to sell their wares - clothes, electronics, fruits, vegetables, home goods, etc.  Be warned, the "fish" and "meat" sections of the market can be one of the more jolting places you will find on this Earth.  In them I have seen children freely peeing near uncovered piles of pork and beef, a pig being slaughtered and bleed while customers haggle over the price of the blood and have been nearly smacked in the face by various raw pieces of meat as enthusiastic sellers show me or package up their goods.

The smell is, as my father would have delicately put it, "enough to knock a buzzard off a shit wagon." Cambodians don't have access to refrigeration and moreover, don't fully understand the benefits of keeping cooked and uncooked food cold to prevent the formation of bacteria.  On the plus side, Cambodia consumes a great deal of fresh meat, fruits and vegetables daily.  The downside is the smell of meat in a very hot and humid climate several hours after the animal has been butchered.

My house, and I'm sure, many others in this country have their own set of unique and ponderous smells.  About a week ago Kate and I were having one of our bi-weekly language tutoring lessons when I stood straight up and started evacuating Kate and my teacher from the house because I thought we had a gas leak.  False alarm...my host sister was preparing "prahok" a beloved dish in Cambodia made from dried and fermented fish paste.  This batch did not turn out as well as one might have hoped (though its hard to tell by smell alone when prahok is "edible"), and smelled rank of methane.

In the same week, we had an alarming evening as two cats made their way into our roof and began fighting.  Three holes in our roof later, our family had chased away the cats (the entire time we were consoling our host nephew that no, they were no ghosts in our house).  Apparently, the cats must have chased something else up their and made the kill, because today and for the past three days, a horrific rotting smell is emanating from our wall and ceiling.  I am sure it will go away soon though...

The people in Cambodia confuse me sometimes.  Occasionally I will be walking behind a group of men or women and be overpowered by their ability to wear extreme amounts of cologne or perfume without passing out from their own fumes.  Other days, I seems as though they are entirely unaware of the existence of BO in the world.  Either way, I find that I usually have a 100% chance of "over-smelling" K'mai people, but only a 50-50% chance of that smell being a positive one.

I don't want to be biased in this post, so let me leave you with some smells in Cambodia that I really do love.

Cooking garlic - riding my bike home in the evenings, usually I pass several houses and restaurants frying up something good with massive amounts of garlic.  No smell makes me hungrier...

Fruit stalls - especially at night, the dozen or so different kinds of fruit they sell on any given day just makes this perfect cacophony of scent by night.

Rain - you know that smell right at the beginning of a big rain storm?  Somehow the heat and humidity here make that smell all the more welcome during the rainy season.  I know I complain about the weather in Cambodia, but the big rains are something I will never get tired of.

Do you have a favorite smell, or better yet, a least favorite smell?  One of the things I miss most here is the smell of honeysuckle in the summer, nothing better than that smell when you are driving at night.

    

Risks of service

I tend to give my wife a hard time about most things, its just one of the big ways I show affection (that kind of sounds awful when I read it back to myself).  Kate's hypochondria tends to a be one of the major targets for my playful teasing - I just find it adorable when she suspects that her leg bruise will turn into a blood clot or that her headache is most certainly an embolism in process.

Let this blog post serve as an apology to her for all the teasing and maybe even a realization that for now, it might be better to play things safe.

During our 27 months of service, our physical health will be tested with foreign bacteria (such as giardia), viruses (such as dengue), fevers, poor nutrition, heat rashes, sunburns, frequent smoke inhalation (y'know, from burning trash) bouts of horrendous diarrhea as well as the countless unknown ailments.  This is not to even begin to think about the potentiality for more serious or life-threatening issues like bike/car accidents, bug or snake bites, etc.

I have the utmost faith in our Medical Officer (she is amazing, kudos to her if she ever reads this) to keep Kate and I healthy and safe in emergency situations and in our day-to-day health.  However, some of the effects of living here may be of concern for our long-term health.

This started becoming a more serious thought for me a few days ago when I was teaching.  A teacher noticed that the trash barrel was full, and because there is no trash pick up or landfills, lit the trash on fire to burn it.  This is totally common and needs to happen regularly to keep up with accumulating trash.  Unfortunately, the wind was not in my favor this day, and the thick acrid smoke blew into my classroom.  This was not the first time, nor will it be the last.  After dismissing class early so that my students and I could get some fresh air, I started to think...

The majority of trash burned in Cambodia is plastic, which typically produces a noxious, toxic and sometimes carcinogenic smoke.  Long-term effects of breathing in this delightful concoction, I'm sure, are not good.

That same week, I was with a fellow PCV contemplating whether or not our Cambodian diets were healthy or not.  Admittedly, we eat less fatty foods, less meat and probably end up eating more fresh vegetables on a daily basis.  However, a huge portion of our diet is white rice - essentially just empty carbohydrates.  Our major source or protein?  Duck eggs.  Did you know duck eggs can have up to four times as much cholesterol as the average chicken egg?  On an average day here, I probably eat AT LEAST one duck egg, but more like two.  After reading the article on the cholesterol levels of duck eggs, I thought I could feel my arteries start to harden.

When we return home, the Peace Corps will give us a year of covered health care in case health issues crop up due to our 27 months of service.  Initially, I found this incredibly generous.  I am beginning to wonder if it is enough...

Eight (wonderful, happy, amazing, exciting and years

This week marks a particularly happy milestone for my wife and I - we have known each other (and have been what I would essentially call "together") for eight long, happy and love-filled years.

The early years, as evidenced by my having hair.   And not so coincidentally, almost the exact spot where I proposed. 

While the marriage odometer is not yet reading even two years, Kate and I have been through so much with each other that its difficult to think about life without her now.  Happily, I don't have to.

Throughout the years we have endured summers on different sides of the country, semesters apart (Kate in Rome, me in Beijing), grad school and demanding jobs that only allowed us weekends together for two years before we were married, and even tougher jobs that granted us little time to enjoy each others' company after we tied the knot.

After some quick and dirty math, I realized that the past six months (yes, we have been in Cambodia for six months now) marks the longest stretch of time that we have ever spent together.  As in, sharing a bed every night, seeing each other for extended periods of time throughout the day and eating most meals together.

During Pre-Service Training, we were instructed that as a married couple, we had a high probability of "becoming more impatient with each other," "growing tired of seeing each other everyday" and some even went so far as to say "resenting each other."  I found this puzzling because I was so excited for the chance to spend two years of, essentially, uninterrupted time with my wife.  Why else would I have married her if not to be with her as much as possible?

The blissfully wonderful "Big Day."  Photo credit: B. Scott Photography

I consider this period of time to be a true gift for our marriage.  Surely, once we return home, busy jobs, dogs, babies (eventually) and life will inevitably catch up with us and make the time we get to spend together all the more precious and scarce.  The ability to work on professional projects together, teach classes together and struggle through the rigors of living in a foreign culture together is something that most married couples do not have the opportunity to experience.  It has already made us stronger and the memories we have made and will continue to make are something I know our grandchildren will know inside and out.    

Christmas in Kep, Cambodia.  

So, to my wife I have nothing but thanks and love for the past eight years and for the coming eighty.  Thank you for loving me despite my flaws and for laughing with me through the tough times.  I can't imagine a better partner for the Peace Corps or for life.

To everyone else, I wish you all the happiness that I find each day with Kate.  If applying and serving in the Peace Corps has taught me anything about my relationship, it is that you should always take the time to do the things you want to do as a couple.  Don't let any excuses get in the way and enjoy the ride together.

You want me to do what???

When I first started teaching at Chea Sim, the High School in my town, I had a preliminary meeting with the school director to see the kinds of activities, clubs and general ideas he wanted me to bring to the school.  Obviously English teaching was to be my main focus, but in a close second place was his desire for me to be very active in sports teams at the High School.  Specifically, he was really excited for me to coach basketball.

I am not saying that I am not a "sports guy," but if given the chance to rank my favorite sports to watch or play, basketball would be close to the bottom of the list well behind the likes of curling, croquet and this cool martial arts fighting with electric lances I once saw on an episode of Star Trek.

Also, I know virtually nothing about basketball.

I am pretty sure the thought process for my school director went something like this,

"Who can I get to coach basketball this year...?  Wait, aren't we getting a foreigner to teach English from the Peace Corps?  PERFECT!  He will know tons about basketball, he probably even knows Yao Ming..."

Of the few memories I have playing basketball in my youth (those remaining anyway, most I have subconsciously blocked out due to their painful and embarrassing nature), I recall feeling incredibly awkward dribbling (its called dribbling, right?) the ball around the court (court or field?) not really sure what to do with my arms and hands when I didn't have the ball, and even less sure what to do with the ball when I had it.  I can't help but think that this is a job far better suited to my younger brother - he oozes sports competency and is practically a statistic book pretty much all sport genres.  

All this to say, I am pretty sure I was the worst choice for a basketball coach possible.

Regardless, I have been showing up a few times a week to "help" the dozen or so boys work on plays, run drills and generally try to look like I had a clue.  If nothing else, the kids seem to like hanging out with me and I try to joke around with them every chance to get to minimize the opportunities for actually having to play basketball myself.

Initially, they wanted me to come every day of the week for two hours each day.  I nixed that pretty quickly, while I want to show support and respect to my school director, I have some other projects in mind that I want to leave some time to accomplish throughout the week.

Here are some pictures from the first day of practice I had with them.  Notice their dress, particularly the long pants and shirts and lack of shoes.  I was later told that the school would be purchasing shoes for them to wear during practices and games.

I'll keep you all posted on how this saga turns out...and just because he is adorable, I leave you with a picture of my host nephew in all his camera-hogging glory.

One of the best feelings in the world

Recently, Kate and I each had an experience that made us feel incredibly good about our K'mai speaking abilities.

Often times, when we interact with Cambodians, they (obviously) know we are foreigners from the moment we start speaking.  So, it usually comes as a surprise to them when we begin speaking K'mai instead of English or French.  Usually (every time), they say something like "jie k'mai" which translates into "know k'mai."  This is usually an aside to their nearby friends or fellow Cambodians.  It tends to produce a good feeling for me when this happens as it shows me that a) Cambodians are recognizing that we are making the effort to learn and speak K'mai where other foreigners are not and b) are being understood while speaking K'mai.  

An ever greater feeling, however, is the one you get when you speak K'mai to someone in Cambodia and they don't even realize you are a foreigner to begin with.  

A few days ago, I was enjoying an evening bike ride when I decided that I needed some fruit.  So I stopped at the next fruit stand I saw and proceeded to ask the woman behind the counter some questions like how much a kilo of dragon fruit was and whether or not the oranges were sweet. 

She was clearly so busy chopping up a pile of cucumbers that she hadn't the time to look up, but only responded in K'mai.  When I finally said that I wanted a half kilo of dragon fruit, she wiped off her hands, got up and weighed the fruit I had picked out.  

Then she looked at me.

I distinctly remember hearing the words "barang" (foreigner) and "jie K'mai" in a most puzzled intonation.  After explaining to her that I was learning K'mai because I am a Peace Corps Volunteer and that I taught English at the High School, she was a little less shellshocked and more inclined to pick up her jaw and sell me the dragon fruit.  

The point is that, until she looked at me, I might well have been a Cambodian based on what I was saying and how I was saying it.  And that, my friends, is one of the best feelings in the world...

Through my eyes...("main street")

Happily, Kate and I just upgraded our Internet plans here for our computers, so I have decided to try and post more video of where I work, play and live.

This first video was impromptu and probably not done with much thought - there is a lot of wind-noise and I probably jostled the camera too much as I was riding, but I'll try to do better next time.  Hopefully it doesn't give you vertigo while you watch it, but it should give you a "feel" for riding your bike around Takeo Town in Cambodia.  The video is shot basically from the central market down the main street of the town and to our house.

PCV Cambodia pocket dump

***Warning, what proceeds is ultra nerdy...

For those of you who don’t already know, I am a huge fan of gadgets.  To be more specific, I am a huge fan of utility-increasing gadgets.  I am not the kind of person (read: d-bag) who is constantly linked to the Internet by having my iPhone, iPad and iPod touch (as a backup, y’know...?) never out of arms reach.  Nor am I some kind of gun-toting survivalist hell-bent on being the last man standing, grinning and yelling “I TOLD YOU SO!!!” over a pile of zombie corpses or in a bunker avoiding nuclear fallout (but if it happens, my pocket multi-tool will save me).  I simply respect the utility that a simple, compact tool(s) can provide and really enjoy gadgets that make one’s unique daily activates a bit more efficient or fun. 

The tools I most enjoy are typically compact, built to last with high-quality materials and are pertinent to the user’s needs.  I have always prided myself on having that certain tool on my person to handily confront any problem and impress those around me with my preparedness.     

Recently, I have taken great comfort in discovering that I am not alone in my quest for the brightest, most compact and alarmingly expensive flashlight or the sharpest and lightest pocketknife.  “Everyday Carry” or EDC for short, is a kind of philosophy or outlook that seeks to streamline and make efficient that which we carry on a daily basis.  This EDC blog, while often repetitive and sometimes obsessive from a mainstream perspective, is one of my absolute favorites and might help illustrate what I am talking about better than I can. 

Batman and his utility belt.  The godfather of gadgets and EDC.  Image from Wikipedia.com

In a world where the amount of “stuff” we carry or value tends to overwhelm us or perhaps even prevent us from enjoying our lives, it makes sense to examine what we deem worthy to lug around with us and accompany us as we face each day and the joys or challenges that come with it.  A “pocket dump” is essentially just that – a pouring out of what one regularly carries on their person to see what’s there.  I think the point of this is to take a look at what you tend to carry around with you and see if there is something there that you simply don’t need, or conversely, something you could add that would add an (extra) element of safety, efficiency, happiness or even style to your daily goings on. 

I thought it would be kind of cool to see what I am carrying around here in Cambodia as a PCV/English teacher. 

What I am carrying...

Going from top left to right…

 Saddleback wallet – Saddleback is this amazing brand that creates durable and quality leather goods, all of which come with 100-year warranties.  By far the best wallet I have ever owned, its layout and size allow me to store all my essentials (cash, business cards, license, credit cards, etc.) while preventing me from stuffing my wallet full of junk, causing me to sit lopsided and probably develop scoliosis.  My bike key laying on top fits perfectly flush into one of the wallet pockets.

Gerber Crucial Tool – Since arriving in Cambodia this little gem has had the honored spot of accessibility on my left hip (after getting my luggage from the carousel and exiting the airport, of course…).  Included in this compact yet sturdy multi-tool is a blade (half straightedge, half serrated), pliers, screwdrivers, bottle opener and a clip to secure to my pocket.  I tend to go with a more serious locking blade at home, but I am a little worried about perception as a PCVs in Cambodia.

Nokia cell phone – Aside from the Peace Corps rule that my phone needs be on my person and turned on at all times, I find this little technological link to be incredibly reassuring in my daily life here.  Texting family and friends back to the states for only three cents a shot or being able to call my wife up on a moment’s notice to warn her of an impending laundry-soaking downpour or ask her to meet me at our favorite pork and rice restaurant, is truly worth its weight in gold.  It also has electronic versions of Snake and Sudoku so I can look busy and important when I am on the bus or between classes and want to avoid being asked about my sex life by Cambodian men. 

Casio SGW100B-3V Digital Watch – I got this watch to fill in for my Wenger AquaGraph (gift from my wife I didn't want scratched up) while I am in Cambodia.  It is great for a few reasons.  The digital compass, durability and tough but comfortable watchband have convinced me this was a good decision. 

4Sevens Quark R5 flashlight (not pictured) – This one is a sob story.  For my last birthday, my beautiful wife spent a silly amount of money on a flashlight that I had been drooling over for months.  I loved it…and maybe more importantly, it was an extension of my wife’s love for me and her tolerating of my ridiculous obsessions.  It was so freaking bright, sturdy and small.  Somehow, it jumped off of my belt during my first month in Cambodia and took with it a piece of my heart.  Really a shame too, because a flashlight in Cambodia is an essential piece of gear between power outages, the lack of streetlights and the ridiculously early hour people turn off their lights and go to bed over here.  A replacement may or may not already be on its way…

Bandana – I was taught at an early age that carrying a handkerchief was the sign of a true gentleman.  Also, Cambodia = really sweaty and dirty.  Some days I carry two.   

Under Amour sunglasses – Maybe my most vital piece of hardware in Cambodia.  My eyes are really sensitive; for me, I equate stepping out into a bright day with what a newborn child experiences when it is pulled from the womb into all that fluorescent lighting.  Also, my primary mode of transportation in Cambodia is my bike.  During the dry season, it’s impossible to keep dirt and grit out of your eyes unless you wear some kind of eye protection. 

Keychain (left) – Carabiner, keys, Saddleback keychain, Streamlight Nano mini flashlight. Connects/detaches easily to the other keychain via a Victorinox QD keychain. 

Keychain (right) – Spyderco bug (keychain knife), split pea peanut lighter, Gerber Shard keychain tool, Batman symbol keychain (an homage to the master of EDC and gadgetry), Washington Capitals retrieval lanyard. 

While I don't really consider it to be an EDC item, my backpack is almost always with me.  In it I carry some more serious items for my work in Cambodia (dry-erase markers, school activity books, folders), as well as a backup flashlight, medical kit and a few other odds and ends like hand sanatizer, drink mix packets and the like. 

So my big question to you...what am I missing?  What are your favorite tools that you carry on a daily basis that you think I simply cannot live without?  Or conversely, what do you think I am totally nuts for carrying with me on a daily basis. 

Mr. Guinea Pig, you were right...kinda...

The last few weeks leading up to Kate and my departure from Maryland to Cambodia were filled with heartfelt goodbyes, well wishes and an outpouring of love from our friends and family.  I think about our "last moments" with people from home often, thinking that somehow that last image I have of that person as I said goodbye has frozen them in time and will keep them just so for 27 months until we come back home.

One particularly fond farewell, that I think about often, was over dinner with one of my favorite fellow young married couples, for anonymity's sake and because its adorable, we will call them Mr. and Mrs. Guinea Pig.  During this dinner, as is like to happen, the ladies discussed things like weddings (even though they were already married), blog fonts and...I don't know...probably purses or something.  The menfolk, however, were deeply engrossed in far more interesting topics such as hockey, which season of Dexter is best, and of course, whether or not Cambodia would have an abundance of wild boar for Kate and I to eat regularly when we arrived.

A wild boar.  Picture from Wikipedia.com

Now, on this last discussion topic, you might say that things became heated, things were said, positions were established and a gentlemen's bet of sorts was set.  I took the position, that, "no, Mr. Guinea Pig, there are no wild boar in Cambodia and far from it, we would never eat nor hear of anyone eating wild boar in the vicinity of Cambodia during our tenure as PCVs in Cambodia."  Mr. Guinea Pig, as you might have guessed, took the opposing position.  He described a fantastic world where white rice rains from the heavens (kind of true...), cats and dogs live together in harmony and yes, wild boar would become a virtual staple for us and that one simply had to step outside to find them scamping about in droves.

I take this moment to publicly admit defeat to Mr. Guinea Pig, as I am now aware of wild boar being spotted, caught and consumed not 12km from my very place of residence.  This may be a far cry from the endemic of boar described to me, but I admit that the terms of this bet were clear and I have been bested.

Your reward of a full rack of wild boar ribs awaits you in Cambodia, Mr. Guinea Pig.

Let me tell you about my counterpart….

As an English Teacher in the Peace Corps my main job is, as you might have guessed, teaching English in a Cambodian public high school.  When I tell people back home what I do, I think sometimes they imagine me as though I am in some kind of American-styled school building, with my own classroom and a teacher’s lounge to retreat to during breaks (this isn’t accurate).

In fact, what I actually do on a day-to-day basis differs greatly from what I had envisioned ten months ago when I found out I would be teaching in Cambodia.  Education PCVs in Cambodia work with counterparts when they teach – this means that every day when I go to school to teach, I am not just teaching by myself, but with a Cambodian counterpart.  Admittedly, I was a little put off by this at first.  Like any true American, I wanted to do things my way, at my speed and without someone else looking over my shoulder.  After all, isn’t that why they brought in an “expert English Teacher” from America?  

The reason Peace Corps pairs you up with counterparts is really a brilliant move on their part as far as the development process is concerned.  Imagine what might happen if I was a fantastic teacher in Cambodia, I put in my two years and then I left.  I might have influenced over 1,500 students during my time here.  But what if, instead of teaching alone, I had worked with and taught alongside a few teachers consistently over that same two-year period.  I would still be working with and influencing those same students, but simultaneously imparting my knowledge and, perhaps more creative teaching strategies to them to continue using after I leave. And the exchange swings both ways, for every day I work with a counterpart I learn significantly more about the actual state of the Cambodian education system, how to navigate its pitfalls and how I/Peace Corps can contribute to sustained improvements from the perspective of their own system instead of dictating educational reforms to Cambodians from a place of ignorance. 

I work with two counterparts to teach close to 500 students, mostly 9^th grade, but I teach some 12^th grade students as well.  For each class that I teach, I coordinate my plans with the plans of my counterpart for that specific class.  As you might imagine, your counterpart can make or break your Peace Corps service, and certainly, can be a huge factor in your sanity levels. 

During my first three weeks at site, I was strictly an observer at my school, showing up diligently each day to watch the different English teachers, noting any areas in which they could improve, their level of English competency and how they interacted with their students.  I chose two counterparts to work with based on these observations and since October, I have been forging a particularly rewarding relationship, both professionally and personally, with my main counterpart, let’s just call him Mr. S, as his name is difficult enough to pronounce without me trying to write down the crazy-ass phonetics.    

Mr. S looking quite dapper in his formal teaching uniform next to me.  This was
during the parade and ceremony for the Cambodian Independence Day this year. 

We became fast friends and solid coworkers within just a few weeks of my starting to teach.  It is difficult to describe what I really like about him to those who may not have much experience with Cambodia’s culture.  Suffice it to say, many of the aspects of Cambodian men that tend to work against an efficient system of education are simply absent in Mr. S.  Where some teachers might focus our daily conversations on whether or not I have taken a Cambodian wife yet (they know I am already married) or if I would like one, Mr. S without fail will ask how Kate is doing and request that I relay his greetings to her.  Where some Cambodian English teachers might see their profession as simply a way of earning money and therefore see attending their classes as optional, Mr. S has seldom missed a class, constantly finds new ways of teaching and improving our lessons and on his first day of meeting me, spoke at length at how English skills can open the doors of opportunity to many Cambodian students, telling me, “English is like their clothes, without good English skills they will be naked.”  I think the metaphor was a bit more poignant before it was translated in his head, but I got the general idea he was trying to convey to me.

One thing I love about this man is his desire to help and make things better by simply volunteering
his time.  Here we are with a few students during a clean-up project I put on.  Mr. S helped facilitate
everything from buying materials with me, being there on the actual day to helping students the new
trash bins we bought (he insisted that this color was the "most beautiful").

When you live in a different country with a radically different culture than your own, it is difficult sometimes to know if and when you are getting through to people and if they understand who you are and what makes you tick.  During a six-day English conference that Mr. S and I attended together, he invited me to his hotel room for dinner and beers (I know it sounds sketchy when I put it like that, but I promise it wasn’t).  He wanted to bond with me and get to know each other as much as I wanted the same.  Over a few beers and some street meat (that I am pretty sure gave me a really bad stomach infection hence sidelining me for the rest of the conference) we bonded in a truly special way through a complex ceremony that men have been participating in for millennium: grilled red meat, alcohol and satellite TV.

Just as important as me being able to figure out him, after that night, I felt that he understood who I am and why I am here.

Mr. S and I during the English conference in Phnom Penh.  I think approximately

24 hours after this picture was taken I had a 103 degree fever and unspeakable issues 

with my gastrointestinal system...if only I could tell Past Chris to prepare himself...

A few weeks ago, Mr. S (actually it was his wife) asked Kate and I over for dinner as a farewell party to their nephew leaving for the US.  After living among them for more than five months already, I can confidently say that Cambodians are known for their hospitality.  During the rainy season it is not uncommon for strangers to shelter under someone’s roof as a drenching downpour goes by.  Kate and I have been offered to eat rice with many families and individuals that we have never met before.  But at his home we are treated as family and welcomed fully by the family.  Also, it should be mentioned, on the menu for the evening: fried fish, stuffed curried frog, K’mai soup, rice (obviously), roasted crickets, stewed curried duck (salivatingly good) and brought in special from a remote Cambodian province: a thighbone of grilled monkey meat.  Stuck between a moral hard place and the rock of wanting to be respectful and courteous, Kate and I tried it all…including the monkey.  

At the risk of sounding overly corny, I am very proud of my relationship with Mr. S, and can't help but think that this kind of relationship will have more of a positive impact on Cambodia and on myself after I leave than any amount of "work" that I do here.

Chris/Toph/Papa Marsh/Sihamoni/Boo Krees/Chur/Batman, back on the air…

With the turn of the New Year, I am joining the scores of those endeavoring to better myself through the self-flagellating motivating process of New Year’s resolution-ing.  Yes, I am going to try and start blogging again. 

I am not naive enough to think that people continue to check my blog in anticipation of my triumphant return to the world of print, but I do hope that someone (mom?) will check back here sometime to see that I am writing again.  Anyways, hobbies are surprisingly in short supply for PCVs in Cambodia and my past blog entries have helped to serve as both an update to loved ones back home as well as an account of memories made as a PCV. 

My goal is blogging once a week, so help hold me to it.  

I started slow and chose a topic that will help set the stage for entries to come, my name(s).  I have to collected several since coming to Cambodia. 

Chris – pretty much what I call myself.  Somehow this name seems to be used least…

Toph – one of my most favorite nicknames and the primary nomenclature preferred by my wife.  It has several variations including but not limited to Toe, Topher…ad nausea. 

Papa Marsh aka ½ of “The Marshes” – I am not sure if its my cynical-logical-sometimes-crotchety-old-before-I’m-young-mentality or just that Kate and I make good surrogate parents for those without, but especially since coming to Cambodia, Kate and I tend to become the de facto parental units for those needing a dose of advice or someone to kiss their boo-boos.  Certainly not a complaint, Kate and I both enjoy houseguests and talking through problems alike.  Regardless, it has earned me yet another nickname.

Sihamoni – So…this is the King of Cambodia’s name.  My first week here, my host grandmother and her sister saw my resemblance to His Royal Highness.  Since then, everyone from my students to the Deputy Governor of my new home province has noticed and commented on how I must be his long, lost American kin.  Calling me Sihamoni during a dinner or a class has become commonplace and usually gets, at first, a laugh, then a serious and pondering look (presumably to see if I actually could somehow be related to him). 

Kate, me and a picture of His Royal Highness.  We actually got to see him drive by during the first two months of training in Cambodia.  You can see his picture, and I am sure the striking resemblance, in this picture. 

Boo Krees – The phonetics on this one are tough, but imagine trying to same my name with no previous understand of how English speakers say the “ch” sound.   This is what my host family’s youngest members call me – they have become Kate and my nieces and nephews for all intents and purposes.  “Boo” is the K’mai word for uncle.  I must admit, this might be my favorite name to hear.  Once these kids see Kate or I coming through the front gates after teaching or coming home after a weekend away, they are ready for a hug and for us to throw them up in the air and catch them (they weigh like 20 pounds, if that…), chocolate may or may not have also solidified these bonds. 

These kids have totally warmed up to us since first invading their home and lives.  They are actually twins, but the brother's eating habits are terrible, and his growth has essentially been stunted as a result.  Now we are just one of the family...Watch out for the little boy on the right, this picture is adorably deceiving...  

That's more like it...other than our rooster, he is the loudest thing for miles.

Chur – This one may be used most frequently, as it is what my students call me and I have a lot of students, over 450.  In a town as small as mine, its literally impossible to go to the market or the store without getting a “hello, chur!”  Chur, as in the second half of “teacher.”  I joke with my students that its ridiculous for them to call me this, and for the first month I thought they were calling me “chair” and had god awful English skills.  I threaten to call them “dents,” like the second half of student…somehow they didn’t think that made sense. 

Some of my amazing students at a workshop Kate held on volunteerism.  To demonstrate the use of my name with a quote from the day, "Chur, your wife is so very pretty and you are handsome, chur."  

Batman – No one has really called me this since college, but I wish they still did.  Also, really excited for the new movie coming out soon… 

For those of you reading this, thanks for giving me and my short-attention span another shot.  I will try not to disappoint and I promise, Cambodia + Peace Corps = some pretty sweet stories, so I know you won’t be disappointed.