Prelude
There was this period in the final sem where I didn't think I'd be leaving the country after graduation, because (a) I'd yet to secure a job and (b) I'd already traveled a fair bit for over the summer, purely for leisure. I guess I was pretty indifferent about traveling, as I'd already had my fun with some of my best friends and my family wasn't planning on going anywhere. However, while sitting in class and watching people plan their chain-travels one fine day, I remembered an opportunity earlier extended to me. An opportunity to travel and do something meaningful. And that was how I ended up going on my sole grad trip, destination: Cambodia.
Tiny background: this was the 6th or 7th installment of Project Smiling Angels, an annual community service expedition to Cambodia, where the aim is always sustainable improvement. Every year, the team comprises members from Zone 8 SJAB (of course, because this was where it originated), and I guess occasional outsiders like myself. I got on board by virtue of knowing a certain Mr. Sim and a few others on the team with whom I'd worked before.
As with everything 2016, Christmas eve chionged forth and off I went to Phnom Penh. And then *snap fingers* I was back in SG looking a few shades darker and covered in mozzie bite scars. The meat of this post is dedicated to the village experience (6 out of 10 days), because in all my years of education I've never been on OCIP. It really was something... different.
Village Experience
We spent the 2nd to 7th days at the village proper (just daytimes except for Christmas; the other nights were reserved for crashing/drinking in the hotel). Our time there involved carrying weights of all sorts (rocks, sand, water, ... children), and can be divided neatly into work and play, all under the scorching Cambodian sun. Best pre-trip investment: spectacle hooks.
Work
Werk werk werk werk werk. Actually no, it was more like work, take 5 (x10), lunch + wonder/wander, work, pang gang (sometimes early). This year's task was to build part of a new school block -- the end-goals were a little vague at the beginning -- and it soon became clear that we'd get no further than the foundations. Not that we were slacking, at least not by Cambodian standards. These people really know how to chill, and when they work, they do one thing at a time, or sometimes one thing in a day. And go for 2+ hours lunch breaks. I realised how difficult it was for me to just sit still and do nothing. It's not a lifestyle I could get used to in a short while, but hey, when you're in Cambodia do as Cambodians do. The thing is, when Cambodians actually do, they leave us feeling like we'd be of better use giving eye power.
Mostly, we could be found transporting a huge mound each of rocks and sand from one end of the school compound to the other. Mounds don't transport themselves, nor did we have anti-gravity force fields to help us. Hence it was time to put in some muscle, one basket-/groundsheet-full at a time. [We did wonder why they didn't deposit the materials closer to the building site earlier on, but I guess it gave us things to do that we couldn't go wrong at. Efficiency got thrown out the unbuilt windows of course -- it could've been 1 truck trip vs a thousand human trips.] When one uses pure strength like this, ahh up goes the appetite. So I ate double of what I usually eat over those work days (and went back to normal over R&R).
Aside from the heavy lifting there were the more skill-based bits such as digging out the ground. Yes, digging and evicting many earthworms along the way. But if you're picturing a circular hole in the ground that's not really it... The ground plan looked more like a grid of squares and rectangles -- shapes which take skill and precision to carve out of the ground. Our first taste of digging went like this: one villager armed with a changkul first dug out perfect square outlines, and we were supposed to clear the dirt from within this outline up (or should I say down) to a certain depth. Well let's just say that some of those squares didn't remain squares for much longer, and who knows what kinds of shapes resulted when we started in those areas without outline guides. I found that while I had the strength to remove fairly sizeable scoops of ground, I couldn't do it for long in quick succession, especially not with great accuracy (aiming is not easy!!!). So once in a while, a villager (probably amused or impatient to the limit) would take over and get the job done in quadruple speed. Essentially, we were the unskilled labour, coz unfortunately uni didn't teach us to use changkuls and shovels.
After the ground was dug deep enough, all the heavy stuff we'd been carrying (except the children) was mixed within these holes, leaving solid cement foundations once dry. [The gross thing was that while the cement was hardening overnight, all the residing earthworms chionged up to the surface for air. And that was where we found lots of them next morning -- dead on the concrete.] Then it was time to put up the concrete pillars! Those must've been the heaviest things I've helped carry in my life -- so heavy that when you're putting in the muscle it doesn't seem like you're playing a part in supporting the weight, something like pressing against a ceiling. But obviously, let go at everyone else's peril. And I wasn't even at the heavy (guys') end! In case you're wondering how: thick, sturdy branches as handles for dozens of hands along with rubber tires as slings. Could be real wrist- and back-busters if one wasn't careful.
As mentioned, when in Cambodia for all parts work done add equal parts rest. Action relaxation. My tendency to fidget surfaced when the time came to chill and hence I was always happy to take extended walks around the village... or find someone/thing to play with.
Play
I hadn't interacted with children in a long time, not to mention a school-load of them. To the kids, everything could be played with -- the mound of sand, empty bottles, a gigantic blue tarp, ... us. It was Christmas day. There was to be a Christmas party for all the villagers in the night but the kids had come in early to play. For the better part of the afternoon, all of us would've been carrying at least one kid on our backs at some point in time. At their command we would run and chase our fellow horses so that our riders could tickle each other/us. The kids also seemed to greatly enjoy aerial manoeuvres courtesy of our muscles. Spinning, throwing, swinging -- the school grounds was transformed into a theme park full of human rides and kids screaming in delight. The kids weighed 15-25kg btw, so talk about working out!
Most of us had our "favourite kid" or else had become a kid's favourite person. The younger kids just wanted to play and run around, and seeing them happy made me happy to exchange my physical energy for their enjoyment. But my favourite kid was this 12-year-old girl who was quiet and reserved compared to other kids -- kinda like myself. It was the our second last day at the school and I was sitting under the shade stoning, when she came along to sit beside me. From then on she stuck with me, playing with me and giving me tiny bouquets of rainbow flowers picked from all over the village. Though small, these were really very beautiful. At the end of the second last day, she asked, "tomorrow?" and I was able to reply "tomorrow" although I knew it would be the last.
I guess what made my goodbye easier was that it happened early, and it was a very solid one. At the end of our final day at the school, we happened to be in a pretty weird position physically. Like we were told to say goodbye to the kids and go settle whatever before heading off, but we were standing deep within the compound, far from the gates. I dunno if you can imagine it, but I really wasn't sure how any sort of goodbye could be definite with a mob of increasingly clingy kids standing between us and the exit. So while some of us were milling awkwardly around waiting for the others to pull away, esp those more acquainted with the younger ones, she just stood a distance away, looking at me. I didn't really know what to do, but I raised my arms and she ran forward to give me one final hug. Then she asked once again, "tomorrow?", to which I replied, "next time". I'm not sure what she understood by that, but I know that she knew we weren't going to be meeting the next day. In any case she turned and walked all the way across the field, out of the gates and in the direction of her house. Not once did she look back. All this, while the younger kids and some of our group had burst into tears at prospect of impending separation.
Insights
What does it mean to be content and to be happy? These children clearly don't have all the gadgets and toys that we grew up with. You see them happy and wonder how they could be happy when they have so little, so much less than we do? But then if we swapped lives, If I went to live in the Cambodian countryside instead and one of the kids took my place in the bustling city, who says we'd both be happy. I'd probably die of boredom and the kid would be dealt the stress and hustle no village kid would ever have to face where they come from. Happiness cannot be transacted but I guess it can be cultivated. We can't just buy another life, but by recognising what we have in our own, we can be happy too. In the city we have sooo much, and maybe it's because we know that there's so much more that we could have, that we lose sight of the things that are enough. Now that I've had this experience, maybe next time I start to "crave more", I'll think back on what it means for me to be contented. I'll think back and remember those kids who have everything they know, and who know everything they have.
As for my interactions with that particular girl, I still don't really know what to make of it. Why she enjoyed my company so much, to pull me by the hand everywhere and give me all those beautiful flowers... Maybe she took pity on me sitting alone and stoning from being too tired haha. Or maybe she and I weren't all that different, if you look past age, skin colour, and language. It's rare that I don't know what to learn from "interesting" or somewhat impactful experiences. At the end of the day, I enjoyed my time at the school and that girl was a major part of it. I don't know if I'll ever see this girl again, and although I didn't cry at the school grounds I did tear a little on the bus ride back while looking at the flowers wilting in my cap. But I strongly believe that we don't meet people by accident in life; paths cross for good reasons. Ah I think I get it now. My time with this girl taught me to live in the moment. Yes it was fleeting, and in the end I couldn't save the souvenirs she gave me, but I enjoyed it, all of the 1.5 days that we were friends. Maybe that's all that matters.
Everything else
I went on this trip knowing about a handful out of the 18 other people. This was the first time I'd travelled with people who weren't already my friends or family. It wasn't really a conscious decision, but I spent most times hopping around different groups instead of sticking to the people I already knew. And it also helped that we'd pair up to carry sand/rocks/water, so those hundreds of up-and-down trips really were good opportunities for conversations with different people. Then tired alr, so use long bus rides for recharging. It seems that one thing that's changed about me in 2016 was that I wasn't really scared of going out there and getting to know new people anymore. I'm still a real introvert; interacting with big groups of new people intimidates and tires me. So it really was my fortune to go on a trip with people who were welcoming and kind, and who treated me as one of them. [I will never forget the time I got tickled until I fell off the bed xD]
R&R was nice. Suddenly it was 2017, and we were consuming alcohol as usual. I remember making a mental note that sometimes, decisions can be arrived at faster with two-way communication, rather than waiting around for the bosses to make the call and getting increasingly frustrated. Next day, or more like a few hours later, we were up to catch the sunrise at Angkor Wat. [Yes, the temples also looked nice and climbable.]
It's not easy to imagine how manual labour with a group of people I hardly knew could be considered a fun travel plan. Then again, I wasn't just looking to have fun, and the stories that the others told me before the trip thoroughly convinced me that it'd be a meaningful way to spend both Christmas and the New Year. All I had to do was go and experience something new.
I guess one of my strengths is that whenever I set out to enjoy something, I usually do :)
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| Angkor Wat, 1st Jan 2017. Dawn of the New Year! |
