When I say stranded, I quite literally mean that I was dropped off in a faraway village in Cambodia all by myself.
After I got dropped off I kept looking back the way I came, so positive that someone would be coming in through the trees but there was no one. It was just me and the village people.
All of the faces read, “Why did is this white girl in pigtail braids just get dropped off here?” And hey, I was wondering that too.
So many thoughts were racing through my head:
My team had all gotten on the back of motorbikes, right? Where did they go? What if no one comes? Do I know the way home? What if I had to walk home from here…could I make it back before nightfall?
A kind, older woman gave me a water as I awkwardly asked what their names were. They clearly didn’t speak English, so I realized words weren’t going to be much help.
Kids ran up to me with wide eyes as I offered them a smile and a high five because that’s universal, friendly gesture, right?
Then out of nowhere, a girl walks up to me and says, “What is your name?” and I think, DID SHE JUST SPEAK ENGIISH? I huge sense of relief rushed over me as I replied, “Hillary! My name is Hillary. Thanks for being my friend!”
(Please don’t judge my desperation.)
She proceeded to be my go-to-gal as she probably told all of her friends that I wasn’t a weirdo.
About 25 minutes later, the rest of my team arrived and I was no longer alone in the village. I was so incredibly thankful that everyone was so kind and receptive of me but also thankful that I did not have to become part of the village people.
