sour sounds

"Lee-hoo-ah? Ok, L-Y-H-O-U-R."

"Sr-eye-pitch-a-ra-wa-na? Ok, I think that'd be S-R-E-Y-P-I-C-H-A-R-A-V-A-N-N-A.  Oh, S-E-R-E-Y? Ok, that works too."

.....

Something funny happens when you speak a language separate from your native language.

{Technically, lots of funny things happen as you learn to speak a new language. Every day. Even two years after you've immersed yourself in that language and have begun to use nearly a third of the time when speaking with your husband. Ha.}

But that's not the point of this little ditty.

What's interesting, to me, is how I've adapted to reading the English language through the lens of Khmer.

Khmer is not a language that has adopted an English-phonetical-translation.  Not officially, anyway.  But someone- the French?- gave them a paper. And on this paper is an approximation of the English phonetics for Khmer.

And, as an American native speaker of the English language, this paper and phonetic translation is nearly the exact opposite of what I my brain tells me to write when I hear the sounds.

At least, it was the opposite two years ago.

But now? Now, I hear the name 'sr-eye-da-h' and I know to write Sreydav (yes, that's a 'v' where you, native English speaker reading this, might not think there is a need for it.)  In fact, I now have to remind myself how to pronounce an English word correctly when reading it aloud.  When I see the word 'sour' my poor confused brain has to send override signals to my jumbled mouth to read it with the strong 'ow/ao' sound and not the 'oo-ah' sound that it is interpreted to mean for Khmer speakers writing Khmer phonetically in English.

So, earlier this week, as I was helping some of the students who attended an art workshop with Chris and I a few weeks ago, it was quite second nature to have the students say their names and write them phonetically in English, and then verify with a Khmer counterpart that they were spelled correctly.

So, if you happen to hear me ignore 'v' sounds at the end of the words, or even pronounce that 'v' as a 'vw' sound, please do forgive me.  I'm having to re-learn how to read and pronounce my own language.  And it's hilarious.

reflection, transition: staying to move forward

As I waded through a deeper period of reflection this past week, I realized how authentically I needed to define what's next to go to truly be able to process and discuss what living and working in Cambodia has been like, has meant to me.

Which is to say, I was reminded of the fact that I like to have a plan, and a goal, and next step ready to go before I transition.

I knew what I was doing after college by November of my senior year. Two years later, I had a job in January before my job as a teacher ended in June. Two years after that, I knew for a full five months that I was moving to Cambodia (as did my amazing place of work I was distraught to leave) before my last day of work occurred.

And in true form, I recently cemented a plan for my time immediately after my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) ends.

The day after I become a Returned PCV, I become a [short-term, contracted] member of Peace Corps staff.

It would be very inauthentic for me to continue to extrapolate on my reflecting and transitioning and what I was feeling and thinking this past week, without writing that down, here.  For you, whoever you are, and, mostly, for me.

So, I'll be living and working in Cambodia through the end of August/beginning September doing something I love: training and developing teachers for a challenging, but ridiculously enriching, role.

True to form, I created many a pro/con list during the stages of deciding to apply, and then deciding to accept once offered the position.  Thoughts of jobs I'd be foregoing in America that would begin in the perfect mid-July (after I'd returned and settled back into the U.S.) time frame, thoughts of being here, alone, without Topher, while he returned, alone, to face the somewhat intimidating home and world that needs re-organizing in Maryland, and thoughts of complexities and opportunities and challenges swirled around this head for a solid while before it became official quite recently.

Which is all to say, yes, Chris, I will in fact be far cooler than you for the rest of our life because I get to tell our future kids that mama lived in Cambodia for two more months than daddy, which makes her far more legit and awesome, overall.

Plus, mama bakes you cookies and daddy is the one giving you all those noogies.

So there's that.

reflection, transition: two words

This past week was a period of gathering, celebrating, reflecting, planning, laughing, lamenting, and committing.  That's at least how I'd summarize the Close of Service (COS) Conference experienced by the K5 - the fifth (my) - group of Peace Corps Volunteers in Cambodia.

I've always enjoyed reflection.  Even 'forced' reflection, as friend hilariously referred to much of the conference.  I found it inspiring to take the time to sit with some of my fellow Volunteers and just talk about what the last two years has been about.

At one point, we were asked to write two words to summarize our service.

We wrote these words on index cards and taped them to the wall of the meeting room.  Walking around the room, I read words like 'relationships' and 'rice' and 'independence' and a variety of more negative, less actually reflective words.

I chose to view the exercise through the lens of what I'd gained these last two years.  It could have gone many ways- what did I share with my community, what legacy I'd hoping to leave behind- but I chose to ask myself:

What did Cambodia give me?

And it was clear to me.  It can be summarized as an appreciation.  An appreciation for people, experiences, places. Life.  And a recognition of how far I still would like to grow as a woman, as an educator, as a learner, as a human.  An appreciation for all that I have, and all that I still hope to grow in.  Namely:

...
Self-awareness.  
...
Humility.
...

If you'd asked me two years ago, I'd have said that I definitely had a great degree of self-awareness, and a level of humility I'd have found commendable.

Which is essentially the essence of the problem, no?

True self-awareness, I've learned, is knowing you are constantly changing, growing, learning.  Self-awareness is an acceptance of evolving and an absence of guilt and self-blame.

True humility, I think, is knowing you are always lifting yourself up with a little bit (or a lot) of pride.  Humility is an acceptance that being humble is a daily challenge and a daily willingness to say to yourself "I know a little bit. Other people know more about this (place, experience, person, thing, etc), and I will know even more when I seek out others, when I value their opinion, experiences, knowledge, and voice.  This [blank] will be better with the contribution of others.  I will be better with the contribution of others."

I'd argue I both needed self-awareness and humility for the last two years and gained a greater understanding of what having both really is.

{Which is to say, I have no idea. But I'm trying to learn, slowly but surely.}

happy day for mamma's

For you, Cindy.  You have taught me so much and inspire me everyday to be the best me I can be.  Everything I love about myself is something I've inherited or learned from you.

Thank you.

Happy Mother's Day.

to scott, on the occasion of your college graduation.

When I was graduating from high school ten years ago, there was a really popular "song" that people loved to play to mark the passing of time and hopes for lessons learned upon a graduation. Maybe you cool kids still utilize this song to herald your "future"; maybe not.  It was already four years old by the time I graduated, but I still listened in earnest every time it played.

The song was Baz Luhrmann's "Everybody's Free (to Wear Sunscreen.)"  You know Baz, right? He directed the movie that began Leonardo DiCaprio's heart-throb status, Romeo and Juliet? And Moulin Rouge? And has directed the the soon to open remake of the Great Gatsby? You know him.  And - first piece of life advice here - you're going to go see Great Gatsby when it opens. Why? Because it's a defining piece of literature and Baz is a musical/imagery genius and it's going to be a movie that will forever remind you of your launch into the real world, and will be the best cautionary tale of what could happen if you invest too much time and money into the false reality of the perfect life, the American dream, and all that jazz (1920's reference, there, my brother.)


Is it too cliche to say that I cannot believe that today you graduate from college? Yes, probably, but I've said it.

I haven't got too much time on you- I only got that undergraduate degree a mere six years ago. But damn, have those been a six years full of growth and change.  So, dear little brother from another mother, here is my simple offering to you.  In hope that six years from now, you will feel that who you were at 22, at this graduation, was just the beginning of all that is amazing in life.

Because it is. I promise, it really, really is.

So here goes.

You're going to fuck up.  With your family, with your friends, at work.  Try not to do it too many times.  When you do, own it, learn from it, and move on.  And then remind me of this too.

Write things down. Take pictures.  You're going to forget a lot of the your twenties, but you can forget less of it if you take the time to remember it, to savor it, to pause in the moment and capture it.

Your first job, that job your going to grad school for, doesn't have be the end-all-be-all job.  I mean, give it your all, work your ass off, be the best you can at it.  But if, in ten years, you want to move on and do something different, feel no regret.  Take your lessons and growth from it, and take the next great leap.  Or if, in ten years, you are so content that you can't imagine doing anything else, take a moment and thank your lucky stars that you found that fulfilling thing so early in life.  And keep rocking it.

Speaking of work, don't be your job.  Don't give in to that hype that you have to work seventy hours a week to be worthwhile.  Work smart, not hard.  Manage your time and develop boundaries between work and life.  Keep aspects of your life sacred, protect them, and don't compromise them.  You will always be better at your job when you have the time to be you with those you love outside of working hours.

Be curious.  Don't let your reading to learn stop now.  It doesn't have to be academic, but keep learning, something, anything. 

Every once in a while, pause to consider how you've grown and changed.  I'd liken growing up through my twenties to the slow but progressive change in one's eyesight.  Every once in a while, you have to stop and adjust the prescription- some things are clearer and some aspects are more difficult to see.  You can't ignore it, and if you try, you're in for massive headaches, needlessly. 

Be honest with yourself and note the awesome ways you've changed.  Consider the small things you still think you could improve and commit to trying.  And then, move on.

And when you do change, don't be surprised or angry if people or things seem different.  The best things, the right people, will change and grow alongside you. Not necessarily in the same ways, but hopefully, in complementary ways.  In ways that allow you to flex and bend, and them to bend and flex.  Hopefully, you'll both in ways that allow you to still see and understand one another. 

You don't have to always agree, but you have to agree to listen to, and hear, each other.  If you can do that, everything else falls in to place.

You're not too old for that thing you're afraid you're too old for.

And there isn't ever really a good time to do the things you don't want to do, or the things you really want to do.  So, you just gotta do them, and hope to hell those who love you will understand. (Which they will, even if they kinda hate it at first. Promise.)

Oh, and as Baz says, wear sunscreen.

the art of doing nothing

Yesterday, after day seven of a daily two-hour art workshop Topher and I are running at the library I work at here, I came home, showered, grabbed some cold water, and just sat.

I just sat down in front of the fan, and watched my host sister from the window.  We chatted a bit, all the while she was in the process of making mango jerky (even more delicious and natural fruit roll-ups).  I watched her stir and stir and stir a big, boiling pot of mango meat.  The literal name for these fruit strips is "stir mango" because of the process.  There's also hours of drying it in the sun, but that doesn't make it into the name.

And as I sat, my knees tucked under my chin, fan pushing wisps of my hair around, I realized I was immensely happy.  

The other day, a K6 (the group that came after us) was at our house for a few hours and I asked him if he'd like anything, as he was just contentedly lounging (as much as one can lounge on a slatted wooden bench) and looking.  And he said no, he was enjoying doing nothing.  He'd recently realized how truly enjoyable the Khmer way of sitting, and doing nothing, absolutely nothing at all, is.

How truly enjoyable doing absolutely nothing is.

a questionnaire

 While in Bangkok, I spent some free time following the spiral through the interwebs until I happened upon dozens of videos from the Bravo show, Inside the Actor's Studio.

It was as fantastic as you think it was.

After watching a handful of episodes (and oh my gosh, there is an episode with Bradley Cooper and it is so emotional, because the guy just graduated from the school which houses the show, and it was just so dang sweet to see him and James Lipton, who conducts the interviews, to just lose it throughout the show because of how in awe they both were that he was there, and the whole point of the school, and show, had come true.  (And, thought inside a thought, how freaking GOOD was Bradley in the Silver Linings Playbook?! I was blown away! Homeboy totally deserved the Oscar, for shame!)), I got caught up in the questionnaire that Mr. Lipton asks his guests at the end of each interview.  You can read the info in the link above, but it is based on a French show, which is based on an old, old questionnaire.

So I've decided, signed and stamped the decree, that each year, I'll subject Topher and myself to this interview.  See how it all changes, as we do.

So let's begin.

First up, Chris.

It was fun to do this with Topher because of how challenging he found all of these questions.  I even had time to pee before he gave him the answer for the first- FIRST- question.

Regarding number three's answer (genuine humility), it was such a great moment when he said that, for me, as his wife.  Humility is probably the characteristic that I strive to be, that I focus on, more than any other, every day.  Mainly because, frankly, it does not come easily to me.  But I truly believe it to be the cornerstone to everything we do in life, if we wish to do it well, and with others.  His answer was a great reminder, to me, to strive for humility not only because of its value to me, but to my husband as well.

Next up, yours truly.

I took a bit more lighthearted spin to my answers. But they are truthful, nonetheless.

 Ok, so let's just begin with this.  I just love saying Kilimanjaro. It just rolls off the ton so nicely, doesn't it?  And I hate the long version of the word hippo because I really, truly, struggle to say it correctly the first time.  I have to concentrate for a hot minute to get my tongue to wrap itself around overlapping 'p' and 't' sounds.

It's highly embarrassing.

And, for me, number six and nine go hand in hand because I simply cannot stand seeing an animal in pain.  I could not handle dealing with sick or injured pet's day after day, which is why I could never be vet.  Such huge kudos to those who do this- you are my hero.

And finally, regarding number ten, I'd like to believe that at the pearly gates, the most important thing that's going to matter to the entity that created me/looked out for me/guided me/whatever is whether or not I was a kind, compassionate, helpful, just, loving, hardworking person.  And I'm going to stick with that.

Finally, it was rather challenging for me to answer the questions until I first separated out my answers for my current life here in Cambodia.  There are so many things that I love, and that drive me nuts, here.  And so, this:

Barang is probably my least favorite word because it is yelled to me, said about me, inferred about me before knowing, and in general, the bane of every foreigner living in Cambodia's existence.  And I just feel defeated trying to refute it, or open people's minds that being lumped into a mass group of 'other' simply because I'm not from Cambodia is exhausting and frustrating. Le sigh.

Lastly, I'd love and be terrified of being a journalist here. I'd love to meet people from around the country, tell their story, question their leaders.  But there is also some danger in that too, as press isn't truly free here.  Which is all I can really say about that!

...........

What would be YOUR answers to the questionnaire? Offer them up in the comments!