Progressive Thoughts

I bought a recycled bike last weekend. As I rode my “new” bike to work Monday morning…I was struck with maybe one of the most obvious realizations I have come up with since returning from the mission field. I’m not in Cambodia anymore.

The distance I ride to work is about the same distance that I would ride my bike to Cambodia Adventist School to teach every morning in Phnom Penh. In Cambodia, riding my bike to work each morning was a feat. Alex and I would dodge potholes, make our way through a four way “intersection” that was more like an eight way, literally hundreds of motos, honking vehicles, and pedestrians. There were times that we would mentally high five each other after making it a block without being run over.  Here, it is easy. It is quiet. On a busy day I pass MAYBE three cars. There might be a crack or two in the sidewalk on the way, but nothing more. I’m not in Cambodia anymore.

When I would arrive to my job in Phnom Penh, by 6:45am I’d be dripping sweat from the heat and my hair could be considered an afro from the humidity and I would always be greeted by a few of my students. “Good morning, Tee-Cha” they would shyly say. When I arrive to my job in College Place, my hands are numb from the morning fog and I cannot feel my ears and I continuously fear they have been frost bitten. Here, I am greeted by my co-workers whom are very pleasant too, but lacking a Khmer accent and tan skin. I’m not in Cambodia anymore.

Transitions are not my thing, which could be considered normal. It has been….strange…transitioning back into what used to be so normal to me. I feel like my hearts has been pulled like salt-water taffy, literally across the world and back again. I am very happy to be home don’t get me wrong, but as to be expected I am missing my students sweet laughter and all of their silly jokes more than anything. I miss having my hands go numb from playing patty-cake each break period. I miss being serenaded with PSY’s Gangnam Style each hour. I miss eating lunch with a bunch of little boys who didn’t know how to speak to me in English, but would always share their rice with me nonetheless. Hearing from my students is still always the highlight of my week now that I am back in Walla Walla.

Whenever I have the chance to talk to other returned SM’s, I always ask the same question. “When does this stretched out feeling go away?” Not to my liking, they always reply with the same answer. “It never really does, Amber.” ……I always bite my tongue and continue on with my day, but all I want to say is “THAT’S HORRIBLE NEWS!! WHY NOT?!” I guess I have realized for quite some time that I am obviously not in Cambodia anymore, but I suppose I have not wanted to admit it to myself until my bike ride to work this last Monday.

I’ve wanted to write one last blog since I have been home…but at the same time I haven’t wanted to “wrap things up” because I will never want to “wrap up” my Cambodian experience. Instead of “moving on” with my life..I rather want to progress.

Looking back, remembering the negative but focusing on the positive, I am thrilled I had the opportunity to spend six months of my life with the most wonderful, hyperactive, sweet, sweet, little children. I knew they brought joy into my life while I was abroad, but it is even more apparent to me now how much those little souls of theirs affected my own. They gave me tenacity, friendship, and purpose. I will forever be grateful of the joy they placed inside of me. I miss them every second, and am so happy that I have the hope to see them once again.

I may not be in Cambodia anymore, but Cambodia will always have a special place in my heart. 

-Amber

One Final Note

It’s incredible to think about to where I’ve been, what I’ve done, and how much I have changed in the last 8 months. 8 weeks ago today, I touched down on American soil, and began the transition from missionary life, to life back in America. I wanted to write one last blog before wrapping this up for good.

            In the last 8 weeks, I sat around Coeur d’ Alene for a while, made a trip down to Santa Barbara to visit my cousin and Loma Linda to visit the nursing school and see some friends, and did a short trip to Walla Walla and Canada. Now I’m back at WWU as a full time student for the last quarter of my sophomore year. Going to class last Monday as a student, for the first time in 9 months, felt so abnormal. The few days since have become more normal and my roommate this quarter is also a returned SM, so we’re going through the transition together.

            Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Cambodia, my kids, and the school. My dorm room is COVERED in pictures from my 6 months overseas and I find myself sitting at my desk just staring at them. The impact that the country and people of Cambodia made on my life is truly remarkable. I know God put me there for reasons far bigger than I can ever comprehend. Though I hope I made an impact there, the mark Cambodia has left on me will never fade.

            I want to thank everyone, once again, who sponsored us, and for the countless thoughts and prayers, letters and packages Amber and I received while we were overseas. We are truly blessed to have so many people that support and care for us, and without you, we could never have done it.

            The 6 months I spent in Phnom Penh, Cambodia taught me more than any other 6 months have ever taught me. The people there that I love and miss so dearly will always hold an irreplaceable spot in my heart. The world has shown and taught me so many new things this year, now it’s time to see what else it has to offer.

Thank you all, again. God bless!

-Alex 

Homeward Bound

A year ago, the planning began to set out on this adventure of a lifetime. I could have never predicted what my time in Cambodia was going to be like. Teaching 17+ ESL students and almost 30 high school math students have consumed my life for the last six months. It’s easy to look back on these last months and think the only thing I’ve learned is that I have no interest in being a teacher. The longer I think, and the deeper I look into my experience, I see that the lessons I have learned stretch much farther than my future career.

             I know I have yet to see some of the effects of my work here, and I know other results I will never see, but I’m keeping my eye on what I can see.

The first day of school, Amber and I greeted our girls with a warm “hello girls,” and Liza was quick to say, “I’m not girls, I’m girl.” Now Liza, only 10 years old, speaks more English than any of the other ESL students. I have taught nineteen 9^th graders Pre-Algebra and nine 10^th graders Algebra 1, a task that I never thought was possible. Above all, I have taught Buddhist students about Jesus and his unconditional love. Hearing my students talk about Jesus, heaven, prayer, etc. makes me as proud of a teacher as any.

            These last 6 months have been filled with highs and lows, and has challenged every ounce of my being. I have learned to eat tofu, bananas, and oatmeal nearly everyday; three foods that would have never been found in my diet at home. Amber and my small apartment has doubled as a dryer to hang all of our clothes, and a clay pot for filtering water has become our best friend. I have experienced hours of classes, constantly telling my kids to be quiet and sit down, and hours of classes where I could not be more proud to be their teacher. Through the triumphs and struggles, my relationship with God has been growing every step of the way. My trust in God led me to decide to become a SM over a year ago, led me to Cambodia 6 months ago, and now is leading me back to America.

            Cambodia has become my second home, a place that has etched a permanent place in my heart. The homeless kids on the street with their loud “heeeelllooooo” everyday, numerous drawings from the dorm girls, and the sound of laughter from my students will never be forgotten. I will never forget the time that I spent here, as a part of me will always remain here. God has shown himself here, and my prayer is that he will continue to do so even after I am gone.

            Six months ago, I remember telling people how scared I was to leave America. I never would’ve thought I would be scared to leave this second home of mine, but the familiar feeling I experienced back in August is back.  

We would never have made it this far without the support and prayers from everyone worldwide. Cambodia has been a daily reminder of how blessed I am. It’s now time, however, to end one chapter of my life, and begin writing a new one. My prayer is God will continue to guide me, just as he led me to Cambodia. I have learned lessons and grown in ways that I could have only done here, and for that, I am forever grateful. It’s now time to trust God’s calling that He has new lessons and plans for me elsewhere.

 As I did in my decision to come serve in Cambodia, I’m stepping out in faith. This time, however, I’m homeward bound.

Packing my Bags.

I piled my clothes in a corner of my room all summer long, throwing a modest t-shirt or teacher-esque skirt over every few days. I continued to let the pile grow until it began to topple over, but I still did not want to admit to myself that I would be leaving the comforts of my own home and my own COUNTRY for such a lengthy period of time. My pile grew and grew and grew until the evening before I boarded the plane to Cambodia when I absolutely had to shove my whole pile into my suitcases. I was able to stay in denial until the last possible moment I could.

My situation, now almost six months later, is quite opposite and yet still as I walk around my apartment in Phnom Penh, I think I feel similarly. I could have never imagined one hundredth of an idea of what Alex and I actually have experienced throughout our time here. I have been blessed in more ways than I can count, and at the same time the time these months have been near to the most difficult months of my life.  Through months of prayer, many tears, a lot of laughter, moto accidents, floods, a robbery, English tests, Tuk-Tuk rides, lots of tofu, and a knife wound, God has finally allowed me to come to terms with the fact that it is time to wrap things up in Cambodia.

I remember my thoughts walking into Cambodia Adventist School for the first time. First of all, I questioned what was wrong with my body and why I was constantly wiping sweat from my forehead at 6:45 in the morning. Secondly, I questioned why I ever thought coming to Cambodia was a good idea.

 I sat in the very back corner of the classroom as we had staff worship. As one of the teachers led out in song service, I used the singing as a time to muffle my sobs. I couldn’t hold anything back…I just sat there and cried like a little baby. I imagined the Khmers watching me and wondering what the heck was wrong with the new white girl. I could have been crying over the heat alone, but truthfully I was distraught solely from my own doubts. I have never doubted myself more in my life. I let my mind try to sort out the mess of thoughts that swirled around inside of my head but it was near impossible. I started throwing out words to God about how wrong I was to have ever thought of myself as capable of teaching real. live. children..in a foreign place with foreign people and foreign accents and foreign smells and foreign sounds and foreign feels.

“God, I quit” I said.
…….“Amber, I’m not allowing you to do that” is what I got back.

“God, no really…I’m inadequate for Your calling..”

……”Amber, I designed you for this. Everything I have let you experience in the past has built you up for this.”

“UGHLLKDLKJALJDFSJDFKJA GOD SERIOUSLY!” is what I wanted to say to that, but instead I went into bathroom and got some tissue.

The months from that moment until now have been so surreal to me. I can say with complete sincerity that God is responsible for carrying me this far. Some days go by and I feel like it is a miracle in itself that I am still standing after a day in my classroom, and other moments have been so close to perfection that I can see with clarity the ways that God is working here.

Two weeks ago, my students had no clue of heaven, but yesterday one of my little boys looked at me and said, “Tee-cha, even if you can not come back to Cambodia, I know that I will see you in heaven”. I made him shake my hand and promise that he meant it. God is working His way into these kids, and it’s a beautiful thing to watch. Knowing that Alex and I have been a part of  the process is one of the most amazing feelings in the world. However, at the same time I have to remember that there is only so much God designed for me to do here.

Here’s the big news: mainly for health and safety reasons, it is now my time to think about starting my pile and packing my bags over. Again, I get to feel like I did this past summer before leaving America: anxious, stressed, and in denial. Now, Cambodia has become my home. Cambodia holds so many memories of obstacles overcome, so many precious faces that will forever be burnt into a special place in my heart, so many moments of clarity with God. I would be lying if I said that I was not afraid to leave this place behind. As I look down at my now healing wound, I promise myself that I won’t. I just simply will not leave this place behind.

Cambodia will forever be a part of me. Cambodia has quite literally left its mark on me, right on my left thigh. I promise myself that when I look at my scar, instead of thinking of the pain that once was there, I will think of all of the beauty this place offered me. I will think of my sweet students, the ones who wanted me to stay forever. I will think of how selfless and giving some of these people have proved themselves to be. I will think of the way it felt to see my Buddhist student walk into church for the first time in her life, because she wanted to be like her teachers. I will remember how God helped me accomplish something that from day one, I never thought was possible. Then, after thinking about all of those things and more, I will pray.

 I will pray for Cambodia for the rest of my life, because this place has changed me. I will never be able to fully express how much this experience has meant to me, and I will never be able to fully express how much love I still want to give. Still, God’s sent His signs. I have to trust He has a different plan now.

With that said, America, I’m coming home. 

God Moments

Though most days seem like a constant uphill battle, there are moments that make the climb so much easier.

Last week, one of my students told me that he wanted to come to church. He is one of my students that moved out of ESL, into his homeroom, and his homeroom teacher thought it would help his English, as everything is translated between English and Khmer. His younger sister is one of my favorite girls in ESL and I told her that she should come along too. The conversation I was having with Liza sparked another one of my little girls attention and soon I had convinced them both to promise me they would come to church on Saturday.

All year long I have been trying to convince my ESL students to come to church. Out of the now 17 students, one is Adventist, one is Christian, and 15 are Buddhist. The one Adventist girl is the only one who comes to church every week; she lives in the dorm and attendance is required. Friday rolled around and I reminded the two girls, Liza and Boramey, that they had promised to come to church the next morning, even though I guessed neither one would show.

The next day as I was sitting in church, I looked out the door to see Liza and her brother Panha walking by the side doors of the church. Seeing her walk past, shyly smiling at me warmed my heart. For the first time in 6 months, one of our Buddhist students had come to church, something that I’ve been hoping for every Sabbath since I got here. Liza came and sat with Amber and I during church, and though she complained about the sermon being too long and that it was too hot, I could not have been happier.

Back at school, Liza told the whole class that she had gone to “cha’s church” over the weekend. Amber got up front and asked if anyone would pray. Today, instead of the normal “he will,” “she will,” and “I can’t teeecha,” six hands flew up, and they were being serious. In astonishment, I listened as my youngest boy proceeded to pray the most precious prayer, not in even Khmer, but in his very broken English. I could not wipe the smile off my face as one student after another prayed, all students that are Buddhist, and I far as I know, have never prayed out loud before.

I left them to have morality class with Amber and I went to teach Pre-Algebra. When I returned, Amber told the class to tell me what they had learned in morality. Fully expecting they didn’t understand enough of the lesson to remember anything, I was shocked as I watched a dozen hands shoot up. “Jesus went to his Father’s house and taught teacher instead of teacher teach him,” one boy said. “When you say sorry Jesus when bad, he erase what you did bad, and no more remember,” another said. For one of the first times I can think of, they remembered, and understood, what they had learned less than an hour before, and could tell me all about it, in ENGLISH! This might seem like the smallest of steps, but in my ESL class, this is huge.

There are days where I feel like I have made absolutely no progress with these kids, than there are moments like these, moments where I could not be more proud, that help me see the progress that they have been making these past months.

Students who, in August, didn’t know what a prayer request was and had just heard the name of Jesus for the very first time, are now telling me all about Bible stories they learned in class, praying out loud and are coming to church on Sabbath. 

What more can I ask for? God is working here, even if I can’t always see it.

-Alex