Allow me to let you in on some of the things that are going on in my mind at this point in my life.
George the Rooster begins his shift at about 5:15 am. Well, I don't know if it is George, because he shares the morning 'cockadoodledoing' with the neighbour's rooster. At or around 5:30 am, I begin to hear the sound of our other neighbours finishing their breakfasts and getting ready for another day at work.
Our front gate opens to the street, on the left and right sides of our house are two other houses, and out the back is a building site. Well, it is not so much a building site as it is a site that is used to produce piping and other concrete thingies for some pipe-ly purpose in Phnom Penh. (So I guess it is a building site. Nice one smartypants...)
This building site is nothing like I had ever seen before I arrived here in Phnom Penh three weeks ago. Heavy machinery isn't to blame for the loud noises that come from the site. There aren't high fences to keep the public from seeing what is going on, or to prevent injury to civilians. The site is not plastered with numerous signs in Khmer and poorly translated English warning those in the vicinity to watch for wet concrete and heavy piping. The workmen aren't wearing high-visibility vests, hardhats, and steel capped boots.
Most of the noise coming from the site are the sounds of workers beating concrete pipes in to shape with metal rods, as the pipes set in their molds. There are no fences between the front of the site and the road. In fact there are a pile of broken concrete slabs and gravel right at the front of the site, some of which spills on to the road. I've not yet seen a sign in sight (or on site) warning people to be careful and cautious. And the workers, oh the workers. They often work without tops (because it is hot and it is hard work!), sometimes they wear jandals (sometimes they don't wear any shoes), and either jeans, shorts, large krama (traditional Khmer scarf that does whatever you want it to do) acting as a lavalava (sarong), or other garments...
They start their work at around 6:00 am, and they finish at around 6:00 pm...sometimes later. They work the following days: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. 12 hours, 7 days a week. In the hot sun, doing mostly by hand what I'm sure is done in the west with the help of a few more machines.
It is not to beat the Phnom Penh traffic jam that they are up so early. In fact, there isn't a commute to work at all. Not to get technical, but they can (and do) very literally wake up, roll over, and they've made the short trip from work to home. These workmen live on site. Along with their wives and children. They live in makeshift thatch huts on stilts with corrugated iron roofs. Plastic hoses coming out of the walls that offer a sad stream of water fill buckets that they use to bathe and wash with. Kids run around seemingly unsupervised (they are though, I often watch and see the men keeping a third eye on the children running around.) The family that live close enough for me to see from my window cook their food on a fire at night. After they've done so, I think they watch about half an hour of TV or maybe it's listening to the radio, share conversation and laughter, before turning out their light source and going to sleep to restore the energy for another day at work.
Now I am by no means labeling these workers and their families as victims, or as people to feel sorry for. I do not even know them. They might very well be content and happy. But their situation (from an outside perspective) serves as a challenging teaching tool in my life - all aspects of my life. As a person living 2 metres away from them in a house that has running water at the turn of a handle (mostly lol), electricity, a fan for the heat, walls and a roof strong enough to keep me secure, doors reliable enough to keep the rain out, and more than one room, I tend to feel somewhat guilty when I take the time to think about what I am surrounded with here in Cambodia.
Now please know that my awesome KiwiBodian family by no means live in luxury (they're fully fledged missionaries ;D)...but when I observe the situation of our neighbours, and of so many other people in this beautiful country, there is just no denying that there is a difference. In this place where Range Rovers share the road with rubbish-collection-carts being pulled by ladies, and where people live in small huts on building sites on the same street as wealthy hotel investors, it is easy to go crazy if your eyes are not fixed on God and do not see with a constantly renewed perspective. And even then you are challenged. I am anyway.
I haven't figured it out yet. And I've learned that I need to stop trying to. I've learned so much in the short time that I have been here. (Following is credit to my KiwiBodian mum/aunty/boss/nurse/all-knowing-and-all-seeing-being-of-awesomeness)
Yes, the situation of lots of people here is saddening and heart wrenching, but imagine how much more saddened and heart broken GOD is, the Creator of the very people living in these situations. Yes, it is easy to get overwhelmed with grief and confusion when you see the injustice of a place where resources are not fairly and justly allocated, but how much more enraged is the heart of GOD, whose own children are the people affected by these things. YES, be moved and do something, but ultimately people are GOD'S responsibility and MY RESPONSIBILITY is to do what God has given me to do, where HE has given me to do it.
So, I will continue to be upset and uplifted on a daily basis at what I see and experience here in Cambodia. I love this place. Don't ask me why, I just do. Don't you have those things in your life? You can't explain why, but you just know that you do. I have no idea what God will have me do here, and whether it is His will is for me to come back, but I will count it a privilege and an honour wherever He has me serving. Everyday He gives us anywhere on Earth is a blessing.
Read this earlier today and thought it relevant.
"He is the Maker of heaven and earth,
the sea, and everything in them-
he remains faithful forever.
He upholds the cause of the oppressed
and gives food to the hungry.
The Lord sets the prisoner free,
the Lord gives sight to the blind,
the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down,
the Lord loves the righteous.
The Lord watches over the foreigner
and sustains the fatherless and the widow,
but he frustrates the ways of the wicked."
Psalm 146:6-9
George the Rooster begins his shift at about 5:15 am. Well, I don't know if it is George, because he shares the morning 'cockadoodledoing' with the neighbour's rooster. At or around 5:30 am, I begin to hear the sound of our other neighbours finishing their breakfasts and getting ready for another day at work.
Our front gate opens to the street, on the left and right sides of our house are two other houses, and out the back is a building site. Well, it is not so much a building site as it is a site that is used to produce piping and other concrete thingies for some pipe-ly purpose in Phnom Penh. (So I guess it is a building site. Nice one smartypants...)
This building site is nothing like I had ever seen before I arrived here in Phnom Penh three weeks ago. Heavy machinery isn't to blame for the loud noises that come from the site. There aren't high fences to keep the public from seeing what is going on, or to prevent injury to civilians. The site is not plastered with numerous signs in Khmer and poorly translated English warning those in the vicinity to watch for wet concrete and heavy piping. The workmen aren't wearing high-visibility vests, hardhats, and steel capped boots.
Most of the noise coming from the site are the sounds of workers beating concrete pipes in to shape with metal rods, as the pipes set in their molds. There are no fences between the front of the site and the road. In fact there are a pile of broken concrete slabs and gravel right at the front of the site, some of which spills on to the road. I've not yet seen a sign in sight (or on site) warning people to be careful and cautious. And the workers, oh the workers. They often work without tops (because it is hot and it is hard work!), sometimes they wear jandals (sometimes they don't wear any shoes), and either jeans, shorts, large krama (traditional Khmer scarf that does whatever you want it to do) acting as a lavalava (sarong), or other garments...
They start their work at around 6:00 am, and they finish at around 6:00 pm...sometimes later. They work the following days: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. 12 hours, 7 days a week. In the hot sun, doing mostly by hand what I'm sure is done in the west with the help of a few more machines.
It is not to beat the Phnom Penh traffic jam that they are up so early. In fact, there isn't a commute to work at all. Not to get technical, but they can (and do) very literally wake up, roll over, and they've made the short trip from work to home. These workmen live on site. Along with their wives and children. They live in makeshift thatch huts on stilts with corrugated iron roofs. Plastic hoses coming out of the walls that offer a sad stream of water fill buckets that they use to bathe and wash with. Kids run around seemingly unsupervised (they are though, I often watch and see the men keeping a third eye on the children running around.) The family that live close enough for me to see from my window cook their food on a fire at night. After they've done so, I think they watch about half an hour of TV or maybe it's listening to the radio, share conversation and laughter, before turning out their light source and going to sleep to restore the energy for another day at work.
Now I am by no means labeling these workers and their families as victims, or as people to feel sorry for. I do not even know them. They might very well be content and happy. But their situation (from an outside perspective) serves as a challenging teaching tool in my life - all aspects of my life. As a person living 2 metres away from them in a house that has running water at the turn of a handle (mostly lol), electricity, a fan for the heat, walls and a roof strong enough to keep me secure, doors reliable enough to keep the rain out, and more than one room, I tend to feel somewhat guilty when I take the time to think about what I am surrounded with here in Cambodia.
Now please know that my awesome KiwiBodian family by no means live in luxury (they're fully fledged missionaries ;D)...but when I observe the situation of our neighbours, and of so many other people in this beautiful country, there is just no denying that there is a difference. In this place where Range Rovers share the road with rubbish-collection-carts being pulled by ladies, and where people live in small huts on building sites on the same street as wealthy hotel investors, it is easy to go crazy if your eyes are not fixed on God and do not see with a constantly renewed perspective. And even then you are challenged. I am anyway.
I haven't figured it out yet. And I've learned that I need to stop trying to. I've learned so much in the short time that I have been here. (Following is credit to my KiwiBodian mum/aunty/boss/nurse/all-knowing-and-all-seeing-being-of-awesomeness)
Yes, the situation of lots of people here is saddening and heart wrenching, but imagine how much more saddened and heart broken GOD is, the Creator of the very people living in these situations. Yes, it is easy to get overwhelmed with grief and confusion when you see the injustice of a place where resources are not fairly and justly allocated, but how much more enraged is the heart of GOD, whose own children are the people affected by these things. YES, be moved and do something, but ultimately people are GOD'S responsibility and MY RESPONSIBILITY is to do what God has given me to do, where HE has given me to do it.
So, I will continue to be upset and uplifted on a daily basis at what I see and experience here in Cambodia. I love this place. Don't ask me why, I just do. Don't you have those things in your life? You can't explain why, but you just know that you do. I have no idea what God will have me do here, and whether it is His will is for me to come back, but I will count it a privilege and an honour wherever He has me serving. Everyday He gives us anywhere on Earth is a blessing.
Read this earlier today and thought it relevant.
"He is the Maker of heaven and earth,
the sea, and everything in them-
he remains faithful forever.
He upholds the cause of the oppressed
and gives food to the hungry.
The Lord sets the prisoner free,
the Lord gives sight to the blind,
the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down,
the Lord loves the righteous.
The Lord watches over the foreigner
and sustains the fatherless and the widow,
but he frustrates the ways of the wicked."
Psalm 146:6-9
Let's trust God to be God.
Adeleina in Cambodia.xx
(This is the site. It feels weird putting this picture up because it is their home. This is not one of those ploys to get foreigners to feel sorry for Cambodia and places like it. Please respect that people live there and understand that they call it home. This is just so you can get more of a visual on what it actually looks like. Cheers.)
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