Some basics for those of you just now dropping in: My sister and I are on an 11-month Christian mission trip to 11 different countries across 4 continents. We’re headed to: Argentina, Bolivia, Paraguay, Chile, Uganda, Ethiopia, Rwanda, Serbia, Bulgaria, Romania, Cambodia, and Thailand. The work will range from country to country in partnership with established ministries in each area.
It’s month 4. My team is in Kampong Chhnang, Cambodia.
We’re teaching English at a primary school.
We were in the middle of our evening English class. The lesson was “Around the Kitchen.” Prach’s wife, despite being our worst student, was acting very superior. I think her position as lead chef for the family was making her prideful. Her idea that prowess in the kitchen (which she does have) would somehow make kitchen vocabulary easier was, at best, an optimistic thought.
Anyway, they were just grasping the “pass the _____, please” game when Sam burst through the woods screaming about the pigs. We ended our lesson very abruptly and followed her to the pen.
There were four piglets already. Prach told us more were coming. He was rolling up his sleeves in a very cool “get down to business” way. Then he rolled up his pant legs, which was less cool.
He laughed when I asked to help. “You are a swine midwife?” His accent is pretty heavy, and it took us a second to decipher that one.
The piglets were squirming and pink, with eyes barely opened and very very tiny little hooves. Their ears were pinned to their heads with sticky goo. It was disgusting and adorable.
In the space of a second, the mama curled up and then lay back down. In the same moment, Prach scooped a hand down and lifted up another piglet. Before I realized what was happening it was handed to me and I was thinking ew ew ew oh my God ew.
A fresh-out-the-mama piglet is very different from a 10 minute old piglet. They are objectively less gross when they’ve had the time to compose themselves. And shed some of that slimy gore.
This morning, they are happily suckling and walking and squealing. Their little ears have started to perk up and their tails are curling.
So now I’m a swine midwife. It’s a title I was not expecting to acquire on my World Race. But then again, I wasn’t expecting to live on a pig farm. Like, ever.
***UPDATE***
When I wrote this blog, I thought it would be lighthearted and fun. But it’s taken 10 days for us to get to WiFi, and circumstances have changed. The sow didn’t have enough milk, and all our piglets died.
We’re all so heartbroken. We watched those little guys take their first wobbly steps. Even worse than watching them die was hearing Prach talk about them.
“I think it is the will of God.” He said to me. “He will feed my family in another way.”
How strange it must be, to have your livelihood wrapped up in the survival and health of a bunch of stinking muddy pigs. It’s a world I still don’t understand, though I’ve found myself living in the middle of it.
In the mornings, we may or may not have electricity. Water runs sporadically. AC is a world away. And whether or not the family eats first depends on piglets.
