I absolutely despise roosters with every fiber of my existence. It is a downright, American LIE that roosters are these natural, countryside alarm clocks. Imagine, if you will, a crisp crow just as the sun breaks the horizon, the hardworking American farmer wakes up to start his or her day, refreshed and grateful for their all-organic alarm clocks. Sorry to burst your bubble, but NO. THESE ARE ALL LIES, MY FRIENDS. Roosters, indeed, have some piercingly crisp crows that they choose to use at any hour they please. Whether it’s 2 in the afternoon or 2 in the morning, roosters don’t care about your schedule. You could be in the middle of teaching Cambodian children English, or spending quiet time with the Lord or, i don’t know, SLEEPING PEACEFULLY, and BAM, roosters having full on conversations about their monotonous rooster lives. There’s nothing that brings on their crows either, oh no no no; the wind might blow a little extra one day, and it tips them off. Or maybe the grass is slightly muddier than yesterday. Or maybe it’s just TOO quiet for their rooster-liking and they just have to voice their opinions about it. I observed this in many cases, spending my free time in the hammocks, plotting my revenge on these awful monsters. A rooster struts on by, seemingly on a tight schedule, then suddenly it stops. The world goes silent, it extends its dumb rooster neck and lets out the most shrill, ungodly sound I have ever heard. “What could possibly have brought that on?!” I’d ask. Without any explanation, he struts to a different spot, and continues. With their snarky faces and croaked voices, I have come to the Lord multiple times, wondering why He chose to make such a disruptive, little creature. I can honestly say that the only thing I do not miss about Kampot are the roosters.
When I say they are the only thing I do not miss, I really mean that they are the only thing I do not miss. Everything about my life in Kampot was fantastic. I’ve grown to miss my room lined with bunk beds, and littered with our gear and clothes. I miss waking up at 6 am, and praying over the soccer fields with my team, ministry host, and the local cows. I miss my morning class with 4 kids and my afternoon class of 12. My two smartest students had the biggest crushes on each other, and I am expecting an invitation to their wedding one day. I miss getting our butts beat by our students in soccer, while it monsooned and thunder cracked over our heads. I miss lazy mornings, lazy afternoons, and lazy evenings; drifting off to sleep in a hammock, or enjoying a good book (For the Love by Jen Hatmaker – I know Erin, I’m pumped too). I miss walking across the dirt road to get a bag of coffee for 30 cents. I even miss the weird looks from the men that played bocce ball from 9am to 9 pm every night; like we were the only white people they’ve ever seen. I miss the relationships I made with the staff, and the wisdom and love they have given me. God bless all of their hearts. I miss my ministry host, Vuthy, that showed me what it looks like to truly be in leadership; putting everyone above himself, and being the most humble human alive. I miss his humor and I miss how he didn’t care that he was older or stronger, he would still beat me in a game of ninja or tennis with no mercy. I miss being surrounded by rice fields and navigating our way through them at 9:00 at night. I miss starting the day with a freezing, cold bucket shower, and getting submerged in the mud 10 minutes later. I miss fried bananas, fried pancakes, white dragon fruit and weird mash potato balls. I don’t really miss the buddhist worship music that blasted at 5 am, but I do miss the laughter that would follow, and the naps needed later in the day. I even miss the day that me and a teammate taught a class in an actual thunderstorm / hurricane. (Our class got moved from our straw hut into the church because the rain was so bad).
I could go on for days about what I miss about Tok Village. The relationships I created in only 19 days will forever be heavy on my heart and I pray for everyone’s lives to prosper under the Lord.
Now, sitting in my room in Bangkok, Thailand, my heart mourns for my other home. I feel like I left an entire half of myself out there in the Cambodian country-side. It’s been a really hard transition from rural, Cambodia to a westernized city like Bangkok. I sat on a western toilet for the first time in two weeks and it was SO WEIRD..
I couldn’t have asked for a better ministry for my first month. God is so kind and so loving to have sent me there. He broke my heart for the village, but also filled it with compassion and gratefulness. I struggled with the fact that we were only there for 19 days, but I know God has his reasons, and i’ve never had so much trust that the Lord’s plans for me are good and holy. I know now that I don’t have to make the hard decisions about what I do after the race, because He will make them for me. He knows the desires of my heart (I mean, he’s the one that put them there in the first place), and I want to live a life that fulfills those desires.
I can’t wait to see what this next month brings, but I can’t help but daydream about my life back in Kampot every now and then. Even when 90% of those daydreams have roosters crowing in the background.
