An update on Cambodia huh… Well, it’s a beautiful place. In the words of my dear teammate Cassie, “Africa and Thailand had a baby and named it Cambodia.” On our way from Phnom Penh to our village, we plunked through the dirt road in a heavy van. With rice fields on either side, I wondered what kind of village we’d be living in. We made the left turn into our homestead and were immediately chased down by a gaggle of children, eager for us to open the van door. We unloaded our packs into a nice, cement team house (with a roof!) and set up our tents, our treasured personal living spaces. I stepped outside and boarded the cabana a few feet from our front door. I sat down on the slats of bamboo and think I teared up a bit. The teenagers spoke quite a bit of English and wanted to talk to us. The sun was out and it was blazing hot but we had shade! We were all optimistic, knowing we’d love this village.
We only have another week or so here, each of us with our own English class. Every evening, the neighborhood kids come to worship with us and hear a message from one of us. Sometimes in the morning, we’ll help our contact Ra with things that need to be done around the homestead. We moved a lot of dirt one day, hauled big sticks around another day, but the work has never been overbearing. Most afternoons at 4:00, kids come to talk with each of us, one on one. The girl that visits me is named Bopha (Bo-pah). She’s 19 and super quirky, met Jesus about 2 years ago and has a lot of questions about him and wants to know the Bible better. She took Mary and I to her friend’s house where she handed me one perfectly ripe guava, the only one on this one tree. My heart couldn’t have been happier.
On days we don’t have any labor to do, sometimes we take the mile walk to the market to find fruit, medicine, or some internet time. The lady that sells coconuts will hack them open for us for our walk back home. Depending on how much it rained, carrying the coconut and trying to dodge the mud puddles becomes challenging. Speaking of rain, although getting through the neighborhood is nearly impossible without getting totally muddy, we pray for rain. The rain cools the humid air outside and we also need it so we can shower. Sometimes at dusk, the world around us takes on an amber glow that’s perfect for a nap.
Please pray for 112 as we bust out our last few days in Kompong Speu. Also, please pray for our health. Of our 12 eyes, 7 are out of commission due to an infection that is spreading quickly throughout the province.
