I’ve been struggling for days with how to describe Cambodia to you
How to give you an idea of what we do

How to paint a picture of our life here
So far from home, but with God’s children so dear

Then somehow my writing began to change
my thoughts became poetic, my blog a bit strange

Then it hit me, the only way to show
you the beauty of Cambodia was to let go

Let the rhyme be free and just give it a start
So here you go, written straight from my heart

I hope it paints a colorful picture in your mind
of the life we live here, during this time

”Cambodia is….”

Cambodia is living in a village in the middle of nowhere

too small for a map, too small for cabbies to care

 

It is sitting through church services in a language I don’t know

and smiling and clapping as the kids do their show

 

It is people nodding even though they have no idea what we say

and us trying to act out what we mean each day

 

It is our hosts serving us entire heapfuls of rice 

and us trying to eat it all, to be nice

 

It is orphans biking around alone to pass the day

with no one to watch them or shelter their way

 

It is humming the Macarena 30 times in a row

so the kids can learn the right moves on the 21st go

 

It is children watching us through every window

and us teaching them every game we know

 

It is bright sunsets that turn the dust to rosy red,

making the tin roofs glow above our heads

 

It is having little shadows constantly following along

and holding dance classes when they play a random American song

 

It is hiding from the blistering sun of the day

everyone cozy and cool in hammocks where they lay

 

It is mass graves that scar the ground

reminding of past travesties with every pit and mound

 

It is saying “A says ‘aaaaa’” ten times in a row

before the darling child in your lap looks up at you and says ‘o?’

 

It is stray chickens, playing puppies, and snobby cats,

horrible mosquito, huge ants, and numerous gnats 

  

It is the common option of traveling to Thailand to earn cash

or bringing your children with you to collect and sell trash

 

It is learning that the little boy down the road is eight

not four as we thought because of his weight

 

It is throwing a giggling toddler high in the air

knowing her opportunities in life will be neither numerous nor fair

 

It is hearing people sing karaoke late into the night                        

only to be woken by Buddhist chants at first light

 

It is hanging your clothes all on a line

after swishing them in well water to wash them of grime

 

It is amazing people sharing all the food they have                                                      

and an amazing grandma covering your every mosquito bite in salve

 

It is smiling Church members with rotting teeth and dirty faces,

leaving piles of shoes outside the Church with no laces 

 

It is dry and dusty and hard and fun                                      

It is another step on a journey that has just begun