The Parts that I miss

Pierre should be 13 by now. He's the 2nd boy from the right and these were his good friends. I only managed to figure out that he wanted me to take a picture of him and his friends after a long conversation involving Khmer, English and sign language.

One year on, I wonder if he could still recognise me. I miss the days where we sat on the bench in front of our 'shed' under the tree, learning each other's language. I also remember helping him tie up and secure properly the garbage bag on the rickety bike, which the whole family shares, and giving him the push to overcome the inertia which he alone wouldn't be able to do so.

I miss the pair of berms I gave to the village chief. Only William and myself have sufficient waist length that would have trousers that the village chief could wear as well. So when he asked, I gave it to him.

I miss taking photos of the village kids who just could not stop feeling excited and amused by our cameras.

The villagers did not understand why we wore spectacles; they thought they were just assessories. They didn't know that we would be as good as blind without those circles in front of our eyes. I only knew this when the village chief brought it up during a conversation and luckily we had Sakett around to help us translate. The cheeky boy laughed before telling us what the village chief asked.

This was how the kids cycled ... They never sat on the bicycle seat, and there were no brakes. And that was how they transported ice ...





I miss the rustic and laid back feel of the village. Nobody's in a hurry, nobody's got to go off and do something important, nobody needed to answer a phone call or return a SMS. I totally forgot that I am still an undergrad and I've still got a real life that I needed to carry on.





I also miss the trips to the local town's market, especially the new and tasty snacks we discover everyday. Like the local iced coffee, bak-kut mee, mango salad, egg wrapped towgeh, all sorts of dumplings, freshly baked french loafs etc etc

The Serious Part

This trip actually bothered me a lot, it did not really set me off to be more active and extend more help to 'needy countries'. Unlike some people who are inspired and strive to participate more actively, I feel that the only way these countries can progress, is to remove excess politcal and historical baggage and step forward on their own, as one. I feel that a divided country, unstable and unable to see beyond personal ambitions, sunk deeply in graft and corruption, would never be able to shake off the chains of poverty. In the meantime, I feel that the presence of Non-Government Organisations (NGOs) and volunteer groups complicate matters, although no one can deny that they do make a difference to people's life whom they serve.

I wonder if I had the chance to go back to Prey Veng. But on second thoughts, I might not want to. What if things did not turn out better as it should? What if the petty squabble between the school principal and the village chief affected the proper running of the school? Would the villagers be reliant on NGO's help and not able to progress on their own? I am afraid that politcal manoveurs will close the school down or 'redirect' it for other uses. Who knows ... the construction never finished after all; the building we saw was just a fiasco for us to see for ourselves our contributions but the rest of the money had been siphoned off by the contractor. If there's one reason for me to go back, it is for me to go see how Pierre and little Ni have grown since the day we left, and if their sister has really turned beautiful as we previously predicted.

This picture was taken when I was on the minibus on our way out of the province. It is very common to have 3 persons on a kupkia bike over in Cambodia, city and village alike. But this is the one and only time I ever saw someone on a drip transported like that; one to ride the bike, the patient in the middle, and someone to hold up the drip stand at the back. Quite a stunt to see. And only in Cambodia did I ever put my 2B license to good use, with Feng and Hailiang as my pillion to the local market.

I also wondered how Jesus had felt when He was on earth, trying to help the poor, sick and hungry.That itself served no purpose except to make me see how much He loved his people. Because as we were giving out the old clothes we collected for Prey Veng, I realised that as we try to be fair and give to everybody, there was a few of the villagers who were greedy for more. They wanted more for themselves and since we gave priority to kids without clothes, they got their kids to get one set of clothes, take them off, and try to get another set from us. I didn't really want to give them the clothes. I was thinking Jesus must have met the same scenario; people not contented with what they have been given, and want more, more than what grace had in stall for them. But Jesus didn't say no, you've had your fill, give others a chance. Well, He has unbounded love and grace, He must have seen it from a different light. Jesus has endless to give, for those who want it from Him. I only had so much, and I was trying to be fair. So my conclusion is, if you want to be fair, you have to be God Himself, and Jesus really loves His people.

The Animal Part

I sleep right above the pigs sty, seperated only by a layer of airy bamboo floor. Every morning I wake up to 2 things, the cock crowing and the pig whining for food. If that is not enough to get me out of my sleep, the heat and smoke from the cooking of the pig feed will surely force me out of my slumber.

In the village, we would have to cook our own meals. Partly good, partly bad. Good because ultimately we would have meals that are more suited to our tastebuds. Bad because most of us have, at best, cooking experience at maggi mee level. This is a picture of me, trying to cook on my roster day. A humble wood-fired stove and wok is the only resource we have to feed 20plus people. So we had to repeat the making of the same dish a few times to cook enough for all. Oh .. I dumped that 'I Love Singapore' T shirt over there... I wore that to work, to the market, to cook and every other activity besides sleeping. Back to the food we ate, we had a few memorable meals there, all by Chow Yong and gang. Around the area we cooked, we always had chicken and it's chicks running about. All of the attempts to trick, trap and catch them were all in vain ... 偷鸡不成失把米.

There was also a family rearing ducks opposite us. Everyday without fail, the ducks would be marched out together every morning to the pond and then swagger back during evening time. But when I decided that I should take a picture of the daily duck stampede, the duck family decided that the ducks wouldn't go to pond everyday ... The ducks are very cute one, they seem to recognise strangers and will all head the oposite direction that strangers go. The way they shake their backside is really funny =)

The girls 'room' had a resident cat who stays in their room all the time. Well, living with the cat is fine until it decided to share its rat kill with the girls, by leaving the dead rat's head, entrails and such by their pillows. I happened to be within earshot of their pleas while I was washing up, and had to take out the dismembered rat out of their room. Psychotic cat.

I was one of the lucky few who were spared of any service injury, be it blisters, burns, cuts or diahorrea and fever. Lida had fever most of the time in the village, but recovered to go back to Phomn Penh for RnR. But on the last day, I was given a souvenir by a sickening insect. The sick creep caused a boil on my left arm, which 'exploded' with pus and blood, and 2 of its eggs ... it had the cheek to lay eggs under my skin!! Eeewwww ... I am still bearing the scar of that incident, it looks like another BCG on my left arm.

The Drinking Part

Cambodians don't drink, or smoke a lot. I figure because it is expensive for them to do so. It simply does not makes sense to drink or smoke when you do not have enough to get by.

But drinking the local brew Klang makes you a real man. Somehow I think the alcohol content is more than the 7% it claims to be. One can later I already feel giddy liaoz. Remember the household with pool table and styrofoam boxes? They sell ice! Iced-beer in a village! When we celebrated Hailiang's birthday, he treated us a whole carton of Klang! Ice-cold Klang! And this Klang is really smooth, not like the disgusting Tiger we have back here. The chief has quit drinking, so Huo drank on his behalf on our insistence. True to the fact that they seldom drink, after one can, he is already talking loudly and sprouting nonsense. Well he is not the only one, Chinyee also talked pretty loudly.

After we left the village, during our last days in Phomn Penh before breaking party, we celebrated Chow Yong's birthday. I did not puke on him as promised but we sure got really close to it. Beer was cheaper than mineral water, so we really overdid it and bought too much. It didn't help that Chow Yong brought in another dozen to expend his USD as well as for the occasion. The wooden pegs on his body numbered 23, his age at that day. So on his birthday, we drank to our fill, the 4 of us, Chow Yong, Jean and Peishan. When we realised there is simply too much, we would have to find some way to finish it; by playing Indian Poker. The loser is to drink what is poured out into the glass. Boy, Bayon (another local brew) stinks! Worsed still if you are forced to drink it. Poor Henry and Hailiang lost so many rounds that we brothers had to chip in and help drink some for them. When all the beer is finally wiped out at 4am, Hailiang and I realised we were locked out by our dead asleep roomate. So we had to bunk in with Chow Yong upstairs, who had to catch a ride out to take a flight later at 6am. Till today, I still don't know how we could first make our way upstairs without stumbling, and then wake up again at 6am just to see him off at breakfast. I hope to see Klang in Singapore someday, it will remind me dearly of my time in Cambodia. Whoever that imports Bayon should be hanged.

Another thing is that Cambodians have very sweet tooth. Tukalok is our favourite dessert drink. It is a powerful fruit blend that has every tropical fruit taste in it, with lots of sugar in it as well =P Every night in the village, we will make a cup of instant Milo for our village chief. At first, it was upon his request. Later on, it became Hailiang and my habit to make a cup for him every night and talk to him till it was time for us to sleep. On our last day, Huo helped himself to a glass of Milo which he shared with the chief as well. Unknown to us, he had added an amount of sugar locals would do to their own drink. So when we had a sip, none of us could swallow it without sticking out our tongue in disgust.

The Staying Together Part

We Singaporeans can be quite a inconsiderate lot, some of us can be considered culturally blind. I am particularly unhappy with the way we tormented the villagers when we talk and laugh loudly through the night. I wondered how the village chief who sleeps below us managed to sleep, coz even myself couldn't sleep due to their incessant laughters. Well I think he had his revenge when he left his radio on throughout the night, haha. Cambodian opera I suppose; half song half talk. What a tormenting night that was.

The village chief and me, and little 'Pierre' beside. 'Pierre' is what we can make out of his name. He is one of the many grandchildren the village chief has. Quite a handsome young lad, got the cute guy look. One of his sisters (the one in green sleeved shirt) is a chiobu in making. I forgot her name liaoz. She is always taking care of little 'Ni', one of her brothers I suppose. 'Ni' is the amazing little brat with guts of steel. I think somehow he knew we were leaving that day .. he was pretty temperamental when we wanted to take this picture. He would not even listen to his sister. Below is the picture of him sitting on my shoulders outside the school compound. 'Ni' would always arrive in his village chief granpa's green scooter, standing on the little triangle of seat cushion between the chief's crouch area, and his hands on the handle bar. Not to mention he once peed on the legs of the chair that we were sitting on. I think we made him pick 4 numbers as well ... wonder if anyone really bought the numbers.

We also spent time teaching other members of the first family some sort of English. In fact we even delibrated about leaving our English-Cambodian translation book with them ... but we decided that since they can't read so we didn't leave the book with them. Looking back, I think I was sort of selfish to keep the book. I could always buy it again in Phomn Penh. But books like these would be hard to come by in the village and would prove useful someday. Who knows, it might help someone to learn Anglais (pronounced as 'onglay', it means English in French, as frequently used by locals in reference to English langauge).

Other villagers we've came to know are the household which sold provisions like instant noodles and nata de coco, right outside our place. As well as the boy who hawkered sweet dumplings balanced on a bamboo tray on top of his head, the household who had pool table and styrofoam boxes, the auntie who went marketing with us everyday ... etc. We were also treated to gigantic bazhang which can be substituted for a whole day's meal.

The Building Part

Our primary mission, is to build a new school compound, in place of this. It looks like it is going to fall apart when a strong gust hits it. When the last flood hit the area, the water was as high up as the where the window is. If you stand inside the building and look up, you can see the sky through the roof peppered with missing tiles. Might as well, since that is the only source of light for them. So, a new school is definitely a must for them. And the business of construction, should be better left to those in the construction business.


It is a short 15-day stay at the village, we needn't expect to erect a proper building in such a short time. And anyway, our building is already more than halfway done when we reached there. Although we had ten plus people at the site each time when there was work to do, our productiviy was less than one Cambodian worker. We were candidly mocked at when we formed human chains to pass quarter buckets of cement.

• It will only take one worker to carry one full bucket one level up, with the same speed that we will take to pass a quarter bucket up.
• We need to wear gloves, they don't need to.
• We drink a lot of water, they don't need to.
• We eat fairly lots, they are easy maintenance.

Simply put, we are useless and on top of that, we slow down progress. Despite our so called NS training, it is nothing compared to the power output of these construction workers.

To prevent readers from painting a rosy picture of our 'huge' contribution, I got to add that we spent 4 to 5 days waiting for the contractor to give us the go ahead. Then we spent another 2 to 3 days carrying the cement buckets (which I reckon, will only take the workers 1 day, max) up one storey. And another 3 days to wait for the cement to set. And another 3 days to wall up and plaster the insides. Then we spent the last day doing last minute painting to the walls. Adding them all up, total working days = 7. This is a picture of us in front of the still-yet-to-complete school on our last day there.

The Initial Part

As introduced, this trip is a somewhat like a charitable expedition. The organisers (SIF) where right, we shouldn't expect to contribute much. It was supposed to be a learning experience for the participants. This was a departure from what I had set out to do, to do my part to improve someone's life.

For 15 days, we stayed at a village called Prey Veng. We stayed at the village chief and his son's place, without coincidence, the most 'luxurious' wooden shed. There's a well to itself with a diesel-run pump attached, concrete floored shower and toilet, concrete-reinforced columns, black and white television, and flouresent lighting. To furthur illustrate my point how fortunate we were in those circumstances, the following picture shows a typical shed that the villagers live in. But we were somewhat surprised to see pool tables in one of the house, they also had styrofoam boxes that I will tell later why it is such a blessing to have them around. In general, the village is not as backward as I first thought of it. Although considered totally undesirable compared to Singapore standards, I find it more delactable than army outfield life. The funny thing is, when we left the village after 15 days, I couldn't get used to hustle and bustle of Phomn Penh.

The first night was a flashback of army life for me. We reached after sundown, so naturally it was pitch dark. After setting up our mosquito nets amongst darkness and indian chiefs, it was time to get ready to sleep and wake up for the next day. We decided that only the girls would get to bath, while the guys would wait for the next day. So the best alternative was to powder bath. On my way down, I sort of missed a step and twisted my ankle a bit. Oh I remembered it was raining a fair bit, there was rumours that the raining season is coming, so all of us bought PCK boots in anticipation of the muddy conditions. It proved useful only for one time. The rest of times we used them at the site, where it remained cloudy whether or not it is compulsory for all of us to wear it, or just normal shoes would do. Back to the powder bath, I think it must have been a spectacle to the villagers opposite to see a group of men powdering themselves all white in the middle of the night.

Introduction

This is post dated entry.
In fact this is already one year late. I am looking back at a Youth Expedition Trip (YEP) to Cambodia in June 2004. If I am not wrong, I left for Cambodia on 15 June and returned 22 days later, 7th July. A constant worry in writing on a subject that stretches back one whole year back is that, you forget many details and important events that shaped the whole trip to what it remains, the great memories (and not so great pictures =P).

Until I figure out how to do a proper website, I will need to make use of content publishers like blogspot to put up my postings. In not-so-near future, I would put all the holiday trips up on one site and do a proper presentation. As for now, this blog page will involve a lot of hardcoding. And hardcoding will get you a F for your programming lab.