Centre of Peace

The orphanage I've been helping out at for the past couple of months with football and English teaching. Their blog -http://geckocry.blogspot.com/

The days are like those long summer evenings you never want to end. The nights are like the end of parties when it starts to die down and you're left with your close friends and just talk into the night. 

The relationships are as warm as the glowing embers of a bonfire. Every time I drive over there it's like being on a rainbow. For I know, at the end there is a pot of gold. After a long day of work, to just go there and chat is just the most wonderful thought. It calms on the days filled with frustrations. It warms me on the days when I'm sad. It fills me with excitement on good days. It's inexplicable. The dreary greyness of the outside world is shut out and the love and warmth of humans is kept in. 

There are problems. The main one being I can't be there all the time, the other being I can't speak more complex Khmer to fully explain concepts or get my idea across. However the kids make concessions and speak simpler for this white foreigner in their midsts. 

I now know how my dad used to feel every Sunday night. When he would take me back home after spending the weekend at his house. It's like leaving a piece of your heart behind. The realisation of how truly alone we are in this universe comes crashing down on your back like a tidal wave. If you're lucky enough to have shared this feeling with another person, you truly care for each other. I have it with all the kids in the centre. 

Sunday mornings have become my favourite part of the week. I get up at 5:30AM make my way to the football field for coaching for 2 hours. Finish that and pack everything up and take it to the centre. Then we all listen to the director/teacher/mother talk and teach with some prayers and songs. It's enlightening and relaxing. Now, I'm not Christian. However I can see the appeal. To come together at the end of the week, sing, joke, laugh, learn, enlighten and pray. The songs and prayers are in Khmer but it adds to the charm as they are beautifully sung. Not like churches in England with old ladies wailing through the hymns.

It's these memories that I cherish. It's these kids I will miss. It's this pot of gold, this corner of the earth, this place that I will miss. However it will always be in my heart when I'm on the other side of the world. 

Link for the blog : https://g.co/kgs/unJw7y

Two years over. Two months left.

How can I begin to explain my relationship with this country? It's a place I now call home. For the past two years, the sights, smells and sounds have filled my senses. Soon these will disappear and be replaced by the modernity of a western country.

When people have visited they have said it smells, it's dirty and so on. For me that's what makes Cambodia, Cambodia. It's what I think endears us all to this country. It's like that scruffy toy we all have somewhere from our childhood. When anyone else looks at it they think it's disgusting, but to the owner it's the most perfect toy in the world. That's how I view this country. Other's coming in might think; look at the rubbish, look at the child, look at that noodle truck in the middle of the pavement, look at the smelly river. They can't understand it. For us, it's Cambodia style. We know it has problems, some much bigger than others. We love it all the same.

Over two years, those problems I am used to and am no longer bothered by. They could drive a little better though and perhaps drink a little less. How can I leave? That is a question I don't know the answer to. It's going to be like a tongue stuck to an icy lamp post. It will be a wrench and it'll hurt a lot. I know I have to. For my prospects to improve and for my future to be more assured I have to leave and study at university. This Greg hates it, however I think future Greg will be very thankful. It's just incredibly difficult to see it now. I want to be here for as long as possible. In fact, I only just booked my ticket yesterday.  The ticket I did book is last the possible date I can be here.

I will have parties and I will have goodbyes. However it's not just those people that I will miss. It's the old lady who sells me my breakfast in the morning, it's the lady who sells me my mangoes, it's the people who make up the background of this place but make it all the richer. The ones who come in and out of our lives but will know something's amiss when the white fella doesn't come anymore. The goodbyes are going to be the hardest part. I have already written about goodbye being the hardest word when I finished at the volunteer school all that time ago. That was a temporary goodbye and I made good on my promise to go back and do it again. This time, for everyone, it is permanent. How do I say goodbye to people that I have made immensely strong connections with. They are from a different culture, different backgrounds,  a different country and speak a different language. How or when did that happen?

I don't want to go.

So for the last two months, I will finish work. I will begin to sell my things. I will begin to prepare myself mentally. I will have parties. I will pack. I will go. This isn't something I want.

How can I leave my volunteer school? They are all so hopeful and filled with life. How can I leave the orphanage? They have taught me so much about life. Truly humbling people. How can I not speak this language I love? It's incredibly complex and interesting. How can I leave my international friends? It's going to be a bubble burster. We all live in this little Cambodia bubble and I have to blow it up.

I don't want to go. However I must prepare for it all the same. 

Link of the day : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9Vh_z9mtv8

Class A Volunteer School

Orphanage Day Out

Orphanage Football Team - I coach them.