Contrasts of Cambodia

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

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.)

A Time Of Firsts - Motorbike Ride!

Being in Cambodia brings with it a whole array of new experiences. Experiences that one might not necessarily experience living in a place like New Zealand, or Australia. For reasons of convenience, or culture, or cats (hahaha I just wanted to carry on the alliteration but didn't actually have any words...there's your mention, Eros!)

So I'll share a few firsts over the next few days. Some will be entertaining, some hard to get your head around...

First Motorbike Ride

Motorbikes are so common here, that it is almost laughable that someone in the country hasn't been on one. But I hadn't. As a few people would know, I have seriously been considering buying one to use next year to zip between uni campuses, as I'll be studying at both the City and Epsom campuses. Thankfully, my timetable allows enough time to get to each campus without such extreme measures. 

Anyway, back to motorbiking in Cambodia. You have to know something about the driving in Cambodia. To the foreign eye, it looks like chaos; motorbikes, bicycles, mopeds, tuk-tuks (motorbike driven rickshaws), people pulling carts, and rubbish trucks...not to mention the CRVs, Lexus', Range Rovers, etc...are all sharing the road. And by sharing the road I mean everyone's trying to get to their destination in the least amount of time, so motorbikes are weaving in and out, over the curbs, wedging between cars and trucks; cars are beeping for bikes to move; trucks are zooming past like there aren't people crossing the road; and there isn't really a three second rule...you indicate, but if you need to turn, you turn...and the people going ahead just need to respect that lol.

So, to the foreigner it looks like chaos, but when you know what's going on, it all kind of makes sense. Adam (Kiwibodian Dad of the family) puts it like this: "Everything everyone is doing on the road is expected. So when you do something unexpected, like slow down to give way, it messes things up and people can actually get seriously hurt." So drivers expect motorbike drivers to weave in front of them suddenly, cars expect kids to be crossing the main, busy road, truck drivers expect tuk-tuks to pull out in front of them while they're going full steam ahead. So with that in mind, it kind of makes sense.

That said, you can imagine that I was a tad nervous when Adam told me that to get to the prisons, the teachers are taken out on Motorbike. I'd never been on a Motorbike before, and these roads weren't exactly what I had in mind for my first Motorbike ride. But maybe they were actually the best! We took one of the work Motorbikes home after being at the office, and you know what? It was actually very liberating and enjoyable! You don't feel the heat because of course you're in the wind, you get to places way faster, and you can fit places that cars can't fit! I thought at first that I was going to die, but after maybe 2 minutes, I got used to it. All you have to do is not jerk, otherwise the driver is affected. So, I tried my hardest not to break out in dance whilst sitting on the back of the bike (haha, dry joke! Jerking...it's a dance...no, ok...:/) 

And I have made the decision, that today I will take a Mototaxi. Which is pretty much a motorbike...taxi! Well, it's exactly that! Adam and Colleen have given me, I think, sufficient time as to getting my bearings and knowing my way around, so I do hope (and pray, oh dear Lord) that I will not disappear into oblivion today. 

It's going to be fun :-)

God is good, and I am learning so much! Which I do not intend to keep to myself, don't you worry...because that is not what the life of a Christ Follower is about. Christ constantly GAVE OUT to OTHERS, so we must constantly GIVE OUT to OTHERS. Keen!

Hope all is well in NewZealaan, Ostraria, etc...

Traveleina :-)

Cambodia Trip - The Early Days

I can hardly believe that I am actually here. In Cambodia. Breathing thick Cambodian air that is seasoned with a tinge of both delightful cooking herbs from market food stalls and the not so delightful stench of exposed and still sewerage juices. I can hardly believe that I am actually here.

I arrived yesterday afternoon at 4:32pm on an Air Asia flight from Don Mueang Airport, Thailand.

I had spent one night in Bangkok, after arriving at 9:30pm the night before on a 9 hour flight from Sydney. I'm not even sure what day of the week it was, so I'm unable to say...the past few days have just kind of run in to each other...

Earlier this week, preparing for my departure, everything was so seemingly smooth.

I'd had my vaccinations on Monday, and they hadn't affected me very much at all. I'd been able to hang out with Laura on Monday, and that was good fun as always. Monday night had been our end of year break up for the Youth Music Team, at which I was spoilt as well as fed and entertained.

Tuesday my washing was sent to the local laundromat. I spent the afternoon with my nana, during which I was spoilt again (thank you Westfield St. Lukes for existing). By the time I arrived home in the afternoon, my washing was home and ready to be put in to my suitcase. Tuesday night of course was Youth Perspective Evening, at which I wasn't at all helping or assisting Paul, and so was cruisy as for me. Once I got home, I skyped my Aussie Family, and they helped me decide which clothes to bring and not to bring to Cambodia. They even helped me pack my bag in a space efficient way! Go space efficiency!

By Wednesday my bags were packed, and I was ready to go. I went to Paper Power to take some passport photographs to have spare for my visas on arrival. Mum came home early from work, which was a bonus. Suli came over in the afternoon, another awesome bonus. Eros, Aaron, and Mikey joined us later on. Freddie, Elle, Sofeni, Kane, and Amaris (<3) joined us later later on. It was a lovely way to spend my last night.

And then the Calendar flipped over one and it was time for Thursday; D-Day!!! We woke up on time, mum and I shed some tears, they were necessary but didn't last long because we both knew that time was a ticking. We arrived at the Airport at 6:25am (I don't actually know that, I'm just making it up). Tim and Talz had come to see me off, which was so nice of them. While I was in line waiting to check in, Eros, Aimee, and Suli arrived. Aaron, Teina, Josh, and Mike had already been there since 5:45 (weirdos, bless! :-) Tasi and Violet came later on as well. 

So anyway, I was in line, which was just fine, I had done it many times before. The line was moving slowly because there were maybe 2-3 (if that) check in assistants operating to begin with. But I eventually got to the front, chirpily pushed my trolley to the counter. After handing her my Passport, she asked to see my itinerary. This was the first sign of trouble, because they never usually ask for anything apart from my Passport. So I handed her my itinerary, which she stared at and read for what felt like 10 minutes without a word. She then went on to say "Now, you do realise that Thailand only offers 30 day visas, yes?" (I flew in to Thailand and then from Thailand to Cambodia, as it saved me about $700).."Yes," I replied, "but I am only in Thailand for one night before heading to Cambodia. "Oh, but it doesn't say that you're flying to Cambodia on this itinerary..." So I handed her my second itinerary, under an entirely different booking. She stared at that for what felt like three days, and then said she had to go and check with her supervisor. So off she went to see her dear, dear Supervisor for what I'm pretty sure was 25 minutes. Meanwhile, my friends that had come to see me were waiting, some had work to go to. When the lovely assistant returned, she said "Yeah, it says on our system that you're only allowed a thirty day visa, and it says here that you are over there for three months, so that's just not going to work. You're going to have to change one of your tickets so that it looks as though you're only going to be in each country for thirty days." 

This is what went through my mind in the very split second after she said that... "My life is over! It's not going to work! This has all been a test of my character, and God isn't actually sending me at all! What am I going to say to all the people that gave money to my mission? What am I going to say to my Kiwi-bodian family that is waiting for me to arrive?! My destiny is over! Am I going to be able to show my face again? I will have to spend the next three months in hiding! God, waah waah waah!!!" Hahaha it's funny now, because everything is funny in hindsight.

Any who, so I went to the ticketing counter, and initially I was angry with the assistant that sent me away, but then all the emotions just swooped in and hit me at once, and there I was...crying. Of all times. You see, I'm not really much of a crier... But I guess I am when there are lots of people around. Good thing they are supportive people. I'm so blessed with them!

Long story short, they checked me in all the way to Bangkok and said that once I arrived there I'd have to call Air Asia and change that flight. But when I got to Sydney Airport (stop over) and free wi-fi, I emailed my Kiwibodian family and they said that it is only Auckland Airport that tend to be pedantic with things like that and I would have absolutely no problem in Bangkok. And I didn't, praise God!!!

Because of how my trip started, I was already feeling quite on edge by the time I got on to the plane. But God always has His ways of reminding us that everything will be fine. I was sat next to two Christians who encouraged me that "the devil only attacks those that are a threat to him." What a timely reminder! Thank you Jesus! I was missing my friends, my family, upset that I hadn't even been able to sit with them at the airport because of how pressed for time I was. So when I got to Thailand, although I was in a pretty boss hotel, I was feeling sad, lonely, distant, and alone.

But I'll tell you the truth, once we hit the ground in Phnom Penh, it was an almost surreal feeling. Once the exit opened and I was greeted with a Khmer smile, everything started to seem okay. Once I walked through to immigration and was surrounded by the Khmer workers jabbering off in Khmer, I was comforted. Once I went through Passport Control and was asked "where you born? where you parent born? You look like Chinese", everything kind of returned to the near-normal line. Once I was in that traffic where there are no rules except 'Get beeped at, move', and 'Beep, and they'll move', somehow life seemed a bit more ordered. Not too sure how that one works haha... Once that smell of sewerage hit me, I knew I was right where I was meant to be...

Once the girl in the van next to us smiled, I felt at home. 

So, it is only early days and I still have no idea what to expect. My Kiwi-bodian family are awesome, they're so genuine and welcoming, it is as though I have known them all my life. 

God, continue to teach me and show me things that You want me to see! 

Blessings,

Traveleina Khmer ;-)

The Room

(NO IDEA HOW TO GET RID OF THE WHITE HIGHLIGHT, AND CAN'T BE BOTHERED SO...meh.

As it happens, I checked my inbox to find a forwarded email. Bless. BUT, I gave it a chance, and it was actually worth my time. So, as I do, I found where it originated, and have posted it below. Enjoy and be challenged...

"In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index-card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.

And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.

A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed."

The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I Have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger," "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.

An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus.

I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?

Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.

"No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written."

By Joshua Harris. Originally published in New Attitude Magazine. Copyright New Attitude, 1995. You have permission to reprint this in any form. We only ask that you include the appropriate copyright byline and do not alter the content.

The People You Meet

It's amazing. The people you meet. 

I'm not talking about the people whose name you know, whose glance you exchange, or whose statuses you read. I'm talking about the people that you talk to when you're sitting at the bus stop, or waiting for food at a fast food restaurant, or when you're out walking with no other intention other than to walk. 

For instance, outside my workplace, is a bus stop. When I first started working at Education Action, I would see this small set Asian lady walking around outside the bus stop, sitting at the bus stop, sitting on the concrete block by the bus stop, waiting for 11 o'clock when the restaurant she worked at opened and she was able to start the chopping of the spring onions. One day I decided that I would approach her, as I do, and it turns out she is quite an interesting lady. Her name is Benh (pronounced Beeng), she is half Vietnamese, half Cambodian, she speaks Cantonese, survived the Khmer Rouge, lives in my neighbourhood, and has an emerging confidence in English. She is friendly, she has taught me some words in Khmer, she is always interested in my own stories about Cambodia, and now everyday that I see her, I call out my window to her (totally professional, right?) and usually walk downstairs just to have a conversation. I love that Benh is my friend. 

I would never have been able to know that Benh was such an interesting person had I not decided to have that first conversation with her. She would not be my friend today if God had not prompted me to see the people behind the people I see. In all our typing, document producing, emailing, article reading, overseas travelling, make-up wearing, club-forming, tertiary studying, life-living, let's not forget that what is most important in this world is people. And last time I checked, people, not products, are most important to God.

"Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples."
John 13:35

I want to LOVE to shine God's love,

Adellz.

La Bella Tierra

Latin American countries I'd love to visit...

1. Colombia

2. Ecuador

3. Peru

4. Venezuela

5. Brazil

Reasons

1. ITEC

2. Bruce Olson

3. Waodani/Hauorani

4. Steve Saint

5. Walisuma

Elaboration to come...

2012.

Just in case I forget - which I will - here are some things that I'd like to do in the year 2012. So, this is kind of like a mental note, except it's not purely mental, it's also... scripted? O_o...
Oh and of course given the world has indeed overcome yet another 'end of existence' uproar.

1. Play badminton
2. Learn to ride a bike (yep, it's true.)
3. Buy my family presents when it's their birthdays
4. Pay off the ol' debts (yep, it's true)
5. Make time to spend with people that mean lots to me
6. Obtain my drivers license (yep, it's true too)
7. Buy a Ford Courier Ute 1994 Twin Cab, and drive it (most definitely true)
8. Go rollerskating

More to come, I hope!