Back to civilisation

I’ve been in New Zealand for a week now and I’ve still not made my mind up about Cambodia and am not entirely sure I ever will.

In some ways I can’t stand the place. I’ve met some characters I’d never want to see again. I met people who will stop at nothing to screw over anyone in their path. Cambodia seems to be a place where theses people are making huge steps forward in society whether you like it or not. But what is coupled with that is fear. There is so much fear and distrust in the culture that it actually stops some people making any steps forward.

Let’s face it. I wasn’t too good with the whole hierarchy thing. I’m (as I’m sure everyone agrees) not overly surprised about that. I suppose in order to respect it you need to understand it. I found that people were often nice and sweet to your face and would then walk away and do what ever suited them. This seemed to be a common and accepted way of life that I often managed to upset.

I hate that curiosity and asking questions is not encouraged, especially, in schools. There is no thinking for themselves and no understanding of why things are right and wrong. They just are. For those who do step up and ask questions they seem to struggle the most in society.

It makes me angry because I imagine the place in 30 years time and just see the bad elements of society being pushed to the forefront.

But then on the other hand I absolutely love the place. I adore how hard the people work, especially the kids, picking up rubbish to make their money for the day to just go out and do it again the next day. They look like adults working hard and then you see this glimmer of an innocent child, laughing, joking, stealing fruit off the neighbours tree and trying not to fall out the tree at the same time. This alone could and often did make everything else seem trivial.

I loved witnessing the most underprivileged share with their brothers and sisters everything they had, making sure they got out the rain first, they got the first bowl of rice, that no one bullied them.

How nothing but simply raising my eyebrows could make a bunch a kids giggle.  Language doesn’t have to be verbal.

Unfortunately, my emotions have never been in the middle about Cambodia, its culture or its people.

I don’t think I’ll ever figure these people out and what has dawned on me over the past 5mths is that I don’t think a lot of the Cambodians know what is going on most of the time either. If they can’t figure out their own people I am pretty impressed with what I’ve learnt in 5mths.

I was always very realistic about what I was going to and what I came from but it seems that what it takes you months to get used to soon becomes a part of you and could takes you just as long to get back to normality again.

I was told I’d probably experience reverse culture shock but it hasn't been like I thought it would be. I knew what I was coming to in New Zealand, I knew how things worked here and was very realistic about the fact I was coming back to what is, by comparison, a rich country so haven’t really been taken by surprise by much except the lack of noise. There are no motorbikes, no “Tuktuk Lady?” every 5mtrs as I walk down the road, no rubbish man squeaking his rubber ducky at 5am as he walks down the road collecting what ever he can to sell and no Asian pop blaring out of mobile phones. The stimulation is a lot less and almost seems boring by comparison.

It’s no secret we have huge amounts of space in New Zealand, most of which is full up with sheep or rugby fields, but we also have a huge amount of personal space. It’s great to have my personal space back but is also a little strange as well. We interact with each other so much less and it takes so much longer to push out the boundaries. Simply smiling at someone means you’re crazy not that you are just acknowledging that they are there.  

It must have taken my body about 5 weeks when I arrived in Cambodia to keep food down and be able to process it. What no one tells you is that when you’ve only eaten curry, everyday for 5 mths, your body forgets how to process anything else. Chewing is a whole new, forgotten, experience.  

I’m frozen to the bone. As I flew over the Southern Alps to Christchurch I felt this shiver down my spine when I looked out the window and saw mountains with snow on them. I thought “Crap. I’ve not got any winter clothes!” There is wind, which is not connected to a monsoon, sun that’s not hot and sweaty and I’ve been covered in as much clothing as I can pile on since I stepped foot off that plane. The complete lack of humidity leaves your body thirsty for water all the time.

As cliché as it is, I walked past the house I grew up in this morning and was shocked when I thought about what we considered poverty to be.

But what has probably hit me the hardest is how easily you move onto the next phase and forget that there are 100s and 1000s of people still out there, and in a small office in Barry, Wales, continuing to do the work day in and day out.

Some decisions are easier to make than others

Over the past few weeks I’ve been faced with and have made some decisions that have changed my path.

A few weeks ago I got a call from my mother saying that my grandfather had a major stroke and was rushed into hospital. I received the news just before I went into a class and found it almost impossible to get through the class without falling apart.

I’m from what used to be a small town and grew up with my grandparents there for every part of my life whether it was a major or insignificant event, often being one of the only stable things around. I’ve always been very close to my grandparents and have missed them dearly the past 10 years I’ve been away from home. My grandfather unexpectedly stepped into a father role for me when I was 6 and as an adult was one of the only people in my family who I felt understood my decision to live on the other side of the world, himself originally being from Belfast, Northern Ireland.

Every time I leave New Zealand I say goodbye to people as if I will never see them again but I feel like I have been given an opportunity to go home and spend some much needed time and to say goodbye for what may be the last time.  How could you give that up?

One thing I’ve learnt from being here is that my family, and those who I’ve adopted as family over the years, are more important to me than I’d ever imagined. As much as I love doing this kind of work, if my own family and support network is not strong I am not able to help others as effectively as I’d like to be able to.

So I’ve made the decision to go on to New Zealand 5 weeks earlier than originally planned. My decision came down to one simple question. As harsh as it may be, what comes first, family or Cambodians who I may never see again?

Having spent so much time here around people who don’t have a family or have a disjointed family, often with people living on opposite sides of the country in order to earn money, I have a lot more respect and time for my own family and loved ones.  I’ve thought about my family a lot since being here and when I received the news from my mum I knew what I needed to do

It’s been hard to explain to the teachers and kids my desire to be with my family at this time as life here means something different and so many of them do not have grandparents. When I told them I was leaving I was given completely blanks looks. At first I was a little angry as I felt like they had no compassion but when I got home I realised that, as I’ve been learning over the past months, they value life in a different way. 

I’ve spent a lot of time working on the management of the project and teaching. The work has by no means been easy. I’ve battled through the intense heat, floods, snakes, scorpions, spiders, putting my foot in it over and over again culturally, volunteers throwing themselves out of tuktuks, being a woman in a male dominated environment, being sick, some way or another, the entire time I’ve been here – just to name a few! In some ways I feel like I’ve achieved everything and nothing all at the same time. It’s been a place of many challenges and very mixed emotions.  I’ve passed on a lot of skills to the founder so that he can better prepare for the unexpected and run the project on the ground more efficiently. I feel like I have passed on as much as I can and as much as he can take in. I’m now curious to see what changes he takes on and what he doesn’t.

The government is bringing in a new law to govern how charities are set up and run in Cambodia. I think it’s a great idea, some of the restrictions and requirements are too harsh for a non-government organisation (NGO) but at the same time there is absolutely no monitoring of NGOs going on here and they can basically do as they please. So in order to regulate them the government is brining in a bit of a controversial law. With the requirements that need to be met to register under the new law there is quite a bit of work to be done, especially for grassroots charities who do not have the finances to employ the manpower to complete the papers. Without the new registration, when the law comes into force, the charity in Cambodia will not be able to function.

I’ve worked on the different requirements needed for the registration but working in a culture where forward planning is not the norm, has been a challenge in itself. It’s been hard not just being able to fix the project, as I’m here to teach someone to do these things not do them for him and I’m so used to fixing things in my day job that need fixing. What I saw as issues they often did not see or were not capable of being able to look further ahead. The change in regulations will determine how the charity will run here and only time will tell what happens.

I’m finding it hard to step back, say goodbye to the kids who are so willing to learn, the teachers who have come on leaps and bounds with their English and teaching abilities and a community who have totally embraced me into their world.  All you get to take home are the photos and the memories.

I’m pretty sure about the things I’ll miss and won’t miss when I get back to civilisation again. The kids I’ll miss like crazy but I’m more than happy to leave the greed behind.

So sadly this week my time here comes to an end.  I’ve said goodbye to the kids who left me with huge hugs, smiles and a letter for my grandfather from one of the kids. In a few days I board a plane to Christchurch, a city which now looks very different to the one I left and to an old man I love dearly and can only help by being there and giving my time.