I Promise:​
this blog is about more than just food..
The food here has been really delicious so far; you know, all two days of eating legit Khumer (koo-mai (Cambodian)) food. The first thing I had upon hopping over to Cambodia was a giant mango that was peeled, chopped up and stuck in a bag for fifty cents American. The two days we were at the hostel I played it safe and bought my own groceries, sticking largely to juices and peanut butter. Upon reaching our YWAM base the other day to drop our packs in our room, I walked into the common area and was greeted by Vandy (vun-dee (sounds more like won-dee)). Vandy's had some large, covered plastic bowls placed in front of him. I recognized one to have white rice in it, of course, but the other was a mystery. He invited me to come and have lunch with him and I accepted (perfect timing because I was about to gnaw my own limbs off, having not had breakfast). The second bowl was uncovered to find fish soup ready and waiting; Training Camp did a good job with the meals the day they cooked up fish head soup for us, because that's precisely what's being served down here! Talk about meat that falls right off the bone, too, by the way. Delicious.
So later that day was when the rubber met the road for AOC and really began our Cambodian ministry. We went to New Life Church where our crowd of students poured in and we set eyes and ears on them for the first time. We teach from 3:30-7:30, Monday- Friday and by the end of it classes we're all equatable to ravenous wolves because we ate lunch nearly eight hours prior at about 12pm. Well, Jeff, the guy running the classes, thought it would be a good idea to set us up with a student escort to take us to a good local restaurant.
The Piano House was its name and it repped a classic hole in the wall feel- especially from the outside. I remember looking at its slightly dingy signage way above our heads and lingering on our team's freshly mentioned desire for Free Bird, the joint down the road that serves some mean hot wings. “Oh, well. Here we are” I thought, being careful to step around a few of the empty stools placed about the main room.
Heaping noodles with vegetables for $1.50, fruit smoothie for $0.85- super duper. It was here that I got to meet my first elderly person, the woman who waited on us and ran the register. She spoke little English, but for some reason spoke fluent French. Too bad romance languages can't intercommunicate, otherwise we would have been speaking some Español right then! Oh, well.
Anyway, so here comes day two (today) rolling around and AOC sets out to the grocery store on foot to snag some breakfast food for future days. Most of us eat lunch at the house, dining with an older foreign couple from down the road, originally from New Zealand, and the other staff members who work at the house every day. More rice (always rice), chicken soup with lemongrass and some other veggies (nothing like America's chicken soup) and these sectioned pieces of omelet on the side- more deliciousness. Side note: the Race propelled me to get over my distaste for omelets. There are stranger and worse things in the world one could eat..
Back to New Life, taught from 3:30-7:30 and ironed out the concepts for my mural on the back wall. Team was starving again by the end- back to The Piano House. We filtered in, waving, greeting and looking excited and hungry. I was the last one in, so as everyone filed into the back room that had the air conditioning I hung back to talk to our same waitress. I realized that I didn't know her name while half of the team already did. I asked her what her name was and she replied about seven times before grabbing her little notepad to write it down for me. I don't know what it is, but Khumer names are just hard to catch! Her name is Man Maly (men-ma-lee). “Oh! Men Maly!!” I said correctly for the first time; we both laughed. Then as she excused herself to take care of the other team members, I picked up her notepad and wrote my name down so she could see the spelling of mine, too.
I then added a little note which said, “IT'S NICE TO MEET YOU AGAIN! YOUR FOOD IS SO GOOD!!”
It wasn't anything crazy and it only took about fifteen seconds just to tell her something nice in basic English. She came back to find me scribbling the last few letters down and peered around my arm. She read her note carefully and slowly, then a huge grin swept across her face. She turned to look at me and her eyes seemed to be filed with light. Sounds a bit cheesy, right? I'm just being honest. Men Maly appreciated this little note so much; just to be complimented and acknowledged made her feel great. She said thank you a few times and said to me with a warm smile, “You can be my daughter, my English daughter, and I can be your mother.” I laughed and said, “Yes, my Khumer mother” (never had one of those before, heh).
So, Men Maly and I are family now, which is pretty sweet. I had her surprise order me whatever was her favorite on the menu that night: fried rice with beef- which was great, by the way. Fifteen seconds isn't a lot of time, but sometimes that's all you need to communicate love to someone else. I'll be excited to go back to The Piano House, probably every night after classes now. Cheers!
