My time in Cambodia is best told via photo. Usually I’m not big on taking pictures at ministry, but Cambodia was a different story. This month I saw how much a blessing a camera could be.
Welcome to 42.
That’s the name of the village we would visit just outside of Kampong Cham.
Each morning I see the poor, neglected, hungry, naked…
yet — the joyful, warm, communal.
Cambodia is a nation of youth. 70% of the population is under 30. In the village, the primary need was to tend to the children. Befriend, hold, love. Let them know they are dear and worthy of attention.
Due to parental neglect, even though there’s plenty of water, these little 42ers don’t usually see baths. We pumped the cold water, scrubbed their brown skin, and dried their sweet bodies.
We would bring a meal a few times a week. After praying for the simple food, the youth would line up in front of our ladles for a little sustenance in their bowls. I imagine it’s not much on the taste buds, but it’s hot, filling and there’s seconds.
I saw my teammates function at some of their finest. We perfected the art of carrying 3 children at once and probably did our biceps a favor. I saw the love in these little ones grow because of my teammates.
We celebrated Christmas in 42. A new outfit, some small treats and a toothbrush was the bounty that morning. No stockings, no fireplaces, no traditions, no gift receipts. We sang and sweat. Merry Christmas!
I’m not one of those girls that swoons over babies, but man — this girl stole my heart. Her name is Chu and she is the coolest. I want to be her when I grow up. From day one we gravitated toward one another.
She threw up the go frogs hand sign without me even teaching her. She has this upside down smile that was the happiest thing I saw most days in December. Her squinty eyes and open arms made us fast friends. I even saw her wear a shirt one time.
If I were anywhere remotely close to desiring a family of my own, I’d steal her and take her back to Texas. Chu. I love Chu.
Sure, there were other villages. Other slums. Other kids.
But 42 has that hold on my heart that the others don’t.
Goodbyes weren’t fun. We hugged ’til it seemed like either our arms or souls would give out. The kids tried to jump on our tuktuk as we drove away, and some were successful. Is there a Cambodian Olympic track team? They could recruit here.
Goodbye to those warm sepia faces,
sudsy bath times,
and sweet handholds.
Cheers to 40, 41 and 42,
Darcie
