A few things…
1) Concerning my missing flip flops: I went to a market a few days ago to buy new flips. I had this great idea of becoming one with the Cambodian culture by purchasing a pair of the somewhat quirky flip flops they wear. If I can’t have my style of flip flops, I might as well go with something a little ridiculous. Hey, you only live once, or whatever it is they say.
The only problem: MY FEET ARE TOO BIG. I’d pick up a miniscule flip flop and ask the lady if she had a bigger size. She’d look at me, glance at my feet and then burst out into hysterical laughter. I think I even saw her slap her knee once. If I thought Cinderella and I had something in common I was sadly mistaken…for I am her evil stepsister.
I ended up getting a pair of men’s Tommy Hilfiger flip flops (so much for becoming one with Cambodian culture, though I must admit I do feel a little ridiculous wearing them). Thankfully, we don’t wear shoes much in this culture. Just to get from place to place. Then I can kick them off and allow my self-esteem to rise once again.
The good news is that I only have to put up with Tommy for a few more weeks. My old teammate Marissa is staying at the place where I originally lost my shoes, and she made it her goal to find them. I just received news that she did, in fact, find them! I still have yet to discover where she found them…I was convinced they were stuck in the plumbing or something.
Okay, enough about my flip flops. Seriously.
2) Today my team had the privilege of taking a basic language learning course in Khmer. We learned how to say “How are you” “My name is” and “I’m from America.” Then we went on some house visits to practice our phrases. Whenever I tried to say one of the phrases, however, the person I was speaking to would stare at me blankly, and then our translator would translate…except he wasn’t really translating, because he would say the exact same thing I had just said. How come they always understood him? Tomato, tomahto, people.
When we were in Africa my teammate Melanie would introduce herself, saying her name slowly and articulately. The locals would attempt to repeat it, but they would butcher it every. single. time.
I thought of this as I continued to say “My name is Hope” “My name is Hope” “My name is Hope” in Khmer to the lady sitting across from me. I was now the African trying to say the word Melanie. Did I sound absolutely ridiculous? Like someone trying to speak with their mouth full of hot dogs? The answer, I’m sad to say, is yes.
Oh well, at least I wasn’t wearing my Tommy’s at the time.
3) After that house visit I figured our translator would take us to another house, but I was mistaken. Instead we rode our bikes through the streets, weaving in and out of traffic and by a beautiful river. The heat from the day was finally beginning to settle, and a cool breeze whipped through my hair. Children were walking home from school, and when they saw us they would smile and scream “hello!” (to which I would respond in Khmer “my name is Hope!”) We stopped by the river to watch some Cambodians play volleyball, and then we sat on a cement barrier as we stared out across the water. It was so peaceful, and yet I felt so alive.
Every few years I make a “life list” – a prediction of how I hope my life will turn out to be in the future. According to my high school prediction, right now I should be living in California, working as a waitress and pursuing a career in acting. I mean, I’m sure that would’ve been great and all, but today there is nothing I’d rather be doing than riding my bike around Cambodia, saying “my name is Hope” in my abhorrent American accent repeated times, or sitting by still waters as the sun sets and the air cools. Tommy Hilfiger flip flops included.
I guess we don’t always know what we want after all.
