Pulling on Her Skirt

DATELINE: August 1, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Deanna and are enjoying our new teaching assignment at the Siem Reap Teacher Training College. More students come each day...I think we have about 30 in each class. Mine are spread out on the dusty floor in a U-shape inside the rows of sewing machines that we are not using.

The students arrive early, sweeping the floor and organizing their supplies. They are so happy and excited to see me.

The two young men in the class are very enthusiastic despite being out-numbered. We have begun the tie purse, but new students line up at my desk for the supplies they do not yet have. One tie has holes, so I replace, but not as good.

Their sewing is exquisite. A young woman shows me a sturdy back stitch down from under the pocket so you cannot see any stitching.

Mony goes back and forth between Deanna's class and mine. We can teach, but not explain concepts. So I wait to do "lecture" until Mony can translate. When he walks in the room, I have drawn an example of a meter of fabric with selveges. I want to explain bias and the straight grain of the fabric. The tie they are using for the purse has been cut on the bias.

I suddenly remembered seeing selveges on the edge of a navy uniform skirt. I ask to see the woman's hem to explain selvege. Mony noticed I found an example and came in front of me to see the writing on the selvege. He held the fabric in his hand and called the rest of the class to see her selvege. I hit at his hand to let go of her skirt and he realized that he was pulling on the skirt of a young woman and raising it higher for the other students to see. The class rocked with laughter. Mony put his head down on my arm with embarrassment.

I think they will remember "selvege".

Deanna's Server Not Working

DATELINE: July 31, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Since our arrival in Siem Reap, Deanna's Road Runner has not been in service. Sometimes she can see that you need informaiton from her or that you need her to set dates. She and an excellent IT person have tried everything. They have Skyped to Time Warner Cable, where the problem resides. They were amazed and working on it, but we do not see the results. Sometimes she gets her hopes up and sees a message from you but is unable to reply. She is absolutely beside herself. This is when the United Methodist Conference Lay Leader needs to be setting dates and preparing for fall events.

I think it's God's way of giving her a break and alowing her to give water, education and hope to the people here...and just be with the people we love. An idea, but not a comfort. I have offered that if she can see something from you on her phone or desktop she can respond from my Ipad. Microsoft and Apple. Can they make peace?

I am saddened to hear about the death of Reverend Thomas Morgan, a classmate at Garrett Evangelical Theological Seminary. He had a wonderful spirit. Deanna did get that e-mail and told me about it.

Purple Ink on the Index Finger

DATELINE: July 30, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Cambodia elections were held on Sunday. Polls open 7 to 3 p.m. Everyone must go to their home town to vote, and be pre-registered. Quite difficult for Cambodian people to leave work, and pay for a journey that may be far, far away. Before the election, the newspapers stated that there was a 126 percent voter registration. That tells you something is off at the get go. Our friends tell us that Cambodia may be the most corrupt country in the world. Therefore 18 countries served as signatories. One such country was USA. After voting, each person put their index finger in a plastic bottle of ink. Soon cell phones told how to remove the ink with fingernail polish remover.

Cambodia has a very large population of young voters (because of Pol Pot Regime). They have influenced the vote greatly, but did not overthrow Prime Minister Hun Sen. Many of our young friends supported the Rescue Party. It is a party that calls for change and protecting the environment.

It was exciting to be part of the campaigning. Tuk tuks carried loud speakers and blaring sound systems with music and speeches about the parties. There were rallies and parades. Many people drove by our hotel wearing matching T-shirts and hats. Most were piled on moto bikes, some had vans with banners. Sometimes the roads were closed. On Sunday, some shops and businesses were closed.

Sam stayed up late to watch the polling results. He watched the Cambodia news. The populace of the cities seemed to vote for a new Prime Minister. The rural population voted for continuance. The BBC spent some time reporting. CNN only a little bit. Aljezeera best reporting of the election.

No, You Cannot Say 'bong'

DATELINE: July 26, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

I listen intently to conversations, trying to pick up a few words of the Khmer language. Deanna knows many more words than I. Khmer words have a sort of staccato bling to them, not like English. Sometimes I hear Awnglish, or names of places, or I can read body language. Formal lessons begin next week.

It is very difficult for them to say my name. It comes out "Path" or "Pet" so they call to me, "Teacher", or "Madamme". "Deanna" they can say.

As I listen, I hear them beginning conversations with "bong." I hear them start cell phone conversations, with "bong". And at the Blue Pumpkin (Ice cream-bakery place) the waitress addresses an individual with "Bong" to double check an order. Yesterday I asked, "can I say 'bong'?"

This lead to a larger discussion of pronoun usage. You can only use the term "bong" when you are referring to someone the same age or older than yourself. They tell me, "you cannot say ‘bong’ because it is for someone older than yourself." We begin to inquire about ages of various mothers, grandmothers, elders. We cannot think of anyone who is older than I am in the entire circle of acquaintances. Maybe there is one grandmother at the church who has shaved her head, has red teeth from chewing the betel leaf, and leaves in middle of worship to go somewhere every Sunday.

Rats. One word I can remember and pronounce I cannot use.

Water Blessing

DATELINE: July 26, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Certain members of our group have gone beyond the restaurant level of crossing cultural barriers. We have left the familiarity and comfort of Methodism and delved into the world of Buddhism. We make comparative analysis of the stories of Buddha and Jesus. We participate in worship with our friends as we would do at home during Lent for pulpit exchange and soup suppers. Perhaps today's leap of faith was a longer leap.

And now I am retired so I have to not work so hard at being careful about what you might think or whom you may tell. And so, dear reader, here is a story I have reserved in the past for very trusted friends who would know me well enough to know I am not going off the deep end.

I prepared by wearing clothes that were not clingy or would take a long time to dry. I removed jewelry and did not take a purse. Only small travel bag for a little money. Prem would take us. At the last minute, Sky asked his boss if he could join us. We stopped at a small store that sells things for Water Blessings. Things Monks like in the monastery. Canned milk, candles, things I cannot remember, and a pack of cigarets. (Which I do remember) Into the bag we put also our offerings. The money is used for the monastery and also for building roads and community projects that help the poor.

We respectfully entered the monastery and I carefully copied what my friends are doing. With heads down, we put our hands on a basket that held the offering. The monk was an older man who survived the Khmer Rouge death camps. His eyes were warm and intelligent. He was covered in orange robes. Sitting at his side were two boys that reminded me of altar boys. Under the platform where the monk was seated, a dog lay peacefully asleep. An orange young tabby cat who looked better fed, tip-toed along a rack of freshly washed dishes.

We were directed to a set of stairs next to an orange rain barrel. Sky stripped down to his skivvies because he had to go back to work. In the car, I was thinking phrases like "cleansed by the blood of the lamb". Like "wash me whiter than snow." Like "create in me a clean heart, O God". Like "cleanse me from all unrighteousness." I was saying "create"...when we were asked to take three sips of water from an aluminum bowl with candle wax floating in it. I smelled incense. I could not see the monk, but I knew was behind us. I was shoulder to shoulder with friends. I knew this was between us and a Greater Power but also there was a power between us. I knew I should not drink the water, but like many missionaries before me, I did.

Then as I returned to the prayer, I was hit by the first splash of water and my shudder came out loud. The next splashes fell more gently. I was aware of the prayers behind me. Then we went back to the altar for closing prayer. As I rose to leave, I noticed a cigaret in the corner of the monk's mouth. On the way home, a friend recalled the cigaret and told us it was something rolled into a piece of notebook paper.

Perhaps in all of today's experience of crossing over into another culture, the cigaret was the most difficult to embrace.

Should we allow a cigaret to prevent us receiving a blessing...from any Holy moment?

Deanna had tea waiting for me when I got back to the hotel. It included Schwepp's Tonic water, Ritz crackers and Gouda. I was back in the safety of a non-smoking zone.

I took an anti-diahrrea, a Peptol Bismol and a Cipro to cover my tracks.

Teach about Peach Perch

DATELINE: July 26, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

We wondered how many of our students could read or write. I found the idea of the peace purse in a book in the U.S.A. They called it the "Artsy Clutch". I noticed the fabric was canvas drop cloth with lining of just about anything that was interesting. Then you add a pony tail holder and interesting button for the closure. I did have canvas fabric donated from Emily after she covered her entire ceiling with Menard's drop cloth for a magic-show-birthday event. People donated interesting one-of-a- kind buttons. The book suggested that you could paint on the canvas with fabric paints or use magic markers to make a design. I made the jump to Khmer writing which the people liked from Cloth Book Project. Or if the student could not write, they could make a picture.

In the U.S.A., I made two examples of the peace purse. One was on a pillow ticking fabric that allowed for writing on lines and the other was on the canvas drop cloth. I wrote a little story about myself and family in the U.S.A. I encouraged the class to write their idea first on a piece of paper, then we would write on the fabric. A woman in the class who usually acts as a leader seemed to be lacking confidence in her writing. She had her brother write on the fabric. It was not good. Smeared all over on one side and a large mark on the other. And brother only come to visit. Now gone.

I asked Mony to translate. Can she write? Yes, she could, but she did not think it was good. I said, "it does not matter if it is good, but if it is from you like a present. Your idea from your mind, your heart."

Deanna suggested that perhaps the students did not understand the concept of peace purse. At the next class, I invented a small drama to teach about peace. I pretended to pick a fight with Mony, putting up my fists and making a face. Then I said "opposite of peace." Then Mony got it. He went off on a tangent about Khmer Rouge time and Pol Pot.

I told them "many people in U.S A. feel sad about Khmer Rouge Regime. They remember about war. When they see your purse from Cambodia they will remember and think about you." Mony translated. Big discussion followed. They liked.

They wrote stories. They showed each other their “peach perch.” They wrote Khmer alphabet. Write, sew, press, show teachers. Teacher like. They like. Okay, good. Sa'at. (Beautiful).

Slipping from One Culture into Another

DATELINE: July 25, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

It's like walking from room to room but not as obvious. I love it and I crave it and it is more difficult to do in my hometown.

Our multi-cultural experience became more obvious when we ate at the Weiner Schnitzel Restaurant in Siem Reap, Cambodia, on a dark, rainy night. Sam had individual meat loaves with gravy and mashed potatoes. Deanna had a kind of sumptuous goulash with spaetzel, and I had deep fried cauliflower, which I did not know was Austrian. Brave Prem, our driver and translator, was dubbed most brave for ordering sausage and sauerkraut with mashed potatoes. We were in a former Khmer restaurant with tiled walls. There was a Khmer flag on the wall with an Austrian flag under it. The labels on the beer were written in Israeli. We could see the Khmer cooks (women) on the second floor in a loft painted lime green with cartoon fish decals. Our host introduced himself as being from Vienna. The food was quite a leap from our routine rice with stuff on it. We were painfully full. When we got back to the hotel, Sam wrote a review on Trip Advisor. He had promised our host that he would.

Next: a brat fry. Stay tuned

Bump Speed and Other Observations on the Way to Bos Kralanh Village

DATELINE: July 25, 2013
PATRICIA E LYON

As the Toyota slowly moves across the wet red sand, we are met by a truck with giant Asian teeth. I cannot tell if the grill is smiling at us or growling. It up tips slightly to the left and then down again. Its wide tires mush one end of a dirt pile that was dropped off to create a "speed bump" for a nearby school. Everyone should slow down and watch for children. Mony grins, "The driver makes the bump speed better now for us to cross." By tomorrow, the bump speed will be almost flat. Perhaps someone will bring more sand for the bump speed.

At the edge of town, we are in a sort of industrial area. We drive by open buildings with green corrugated tin roofs covering lumber, furniture, cement and industrial things. These are mixed in with tailors, snack stands, and wobbly tables holding petrol in recycled soda bottles. The splashed Toyota weaves around trucks, makeshift wagons and carts, moto bikes, bicycles, and many dogs. I see a little boy, smaller than one of my grandsons, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and baggy pants. His head is nearly covered by a holely straw hat. He is the commander in charge of a troupe of ambling scrawny white cows. I don't know how he and the cows can make it through the traffic. This will be how he spends the entire day. My grandsons will be playing at the pool, being read stories or reading stories, taking naps, eating when they are hungry, doing assigned short-term chores, and if they are good, using a tablet like me or having other "screen time". I wonder how God thinks about when he sees all the children.

After class, I see a large gray water buffalo (which I love) sitting next to a small black dog. Their backs are to me. They are sitting up, as though in chairs. They look like a scene from Madagascar or Ice Age. They appear to 1) be very good friends, and 2) both be very curious about something. What do they see? I continue to wonder.

Cats and Rats and Elephants

DATELINE: July 21, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Following a certain rat incident, which I had better not tell you about, Sky took us by tuk tuk to the Soup Dragon Restaurant. Not far from our hotel.

We climbed the steps in the French colonial building to a perch near the edge so we could watch everything happening below. Deanna ordered fried tofu in tomato sauce. Sam got something like pad thai but with more tomato sauce. I thought I was getting a cup cake with vegetables inside, but wondered if I got the pancake with vegetables inside instead. All plates were decorated with a carrot that was cut into some kind of wonderful design that I do not know how to do. We had ice lemon juice.

We observed that the once quiet and dark streets of Siem Reap were now packed with dazed tourists, buses, tuk tuks, Lexus, Land Rovers and tour guides. A giant screen TV played a continuous loop, advertising a light show about Khmer history. Neon signs lit the way. The drums of Apsara dancers competed with the rest of the noise. This used to be low tourist season.

At my feet were two Asian cats. Thin. Long. Every bone showing. Golden eyes bulging. One great with child (or many). Despite Deanna's disapproval, I fed her some of my (sorry kitty) vegetarian meal. She stood up on her hind legs and took it politely with her paws. She declined the tofu. I whispered words of comfort and assurance to her as we left.

Oh, the elephants? Deanna and Sam are going to Phnom Penh for meetings, and there are always elephants going up and down the busiest streets. I do not know why.

Meetings are about: Projects at K School, Khnar Thmei Church projects, students and graduation celebration, mosquito nets, check in with Cambodia Methodist Center, and more to follow.

Daffodil Flower Class

DATELINE: July 21, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

We offered one morning class at Khnar Thmei Village in the Methodist Church. Tony mentioned many children would come to the class. (Oh Dear). What if 30 or more children showed up in bare feet with needles, pins and clippers all around? As it turned out, there were small children but also older children and adults. One mother held a tiny toddler in her lap as she sewed. As I went over to see her project, the little girl screamed in fear and cried. I scared her! Big blonde woman with glasses. Very scary.

Later, I looked up at Tony and Deanna and we noticed together the joy of sewing. You could hear a pin drop, literally, in this case. The class lasted three hours for some. Beautiful yellow flowers, fabric donated from a Presbyterian woman in Vernon, and a woman who is a friend of a friend in Delafield.

After worship yesterday, Mr. and Mrs. Sok came up to have a look at the flower I was wearing. They liked. They want also for Bos Kralanh Village. After a meeting, we went on a search through the market for certain yellow fabrics. Difficult to find, but when we the right person saw the example, she knew. She knew. What an adventure.

P.S. Before worship, I found only one needle and one pin on the floor from the day before. And it was not in someone's foot!

Sound Like Her Husband Name Fried Bull Frog

DATELINE: July 21, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

or, "The Kabop of Peace"

After dealing with the oohing and ahhing and not okay of strawberry purses, it was time to see about homework. Silence. To finally fill in the gap, I said, "did you forget?" Mony translated. More quiet. Deanna said, "what is the problem?"

Not knowing if the women can write I pointed to the whiteboard and reminded, "you can do name? Draw picture?" Translate.

Then the first woman pulled out her lined paper. She had written a very long autobiography. Precise dates, location, marital status (her husband is in the class), on and on. Then much gratefulness about teachers come to her village. The writing was exquisite. The Khmer learn to write on a kind of graph paper to assure the precise size and direction of each letter. I asked, "it is good? Do you like?" Everyone raised their hands. They like. Is good. Then more students gave Mony their papers. Something was lost in the translation as Mony read the next story. He struggled with names of villages far away. Then he said, "sound like her husband name Fried Bull Frog.". Uproarious laughter and correction.

Less shyness followed as women brought forth their homework. One ran home on her moto bike because a relative could write better, or so she said. They selected their fabric and pens to make the purse at home. They wanted to be able to think and be careful about the writing. The suspense is killing me. I cannot wait for class to see what they will bring to show us.

As we left, Mony said one of the women had thrown up four times before class but wanted to come. She had also four sick kids at home ages 3-11. What do you think about that?

Not Your Neighborhood Wal Mart, Not Shop the Pig

DATELINE: July 17, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

I crave it and I fear it. I am lost in it but still want to go, and will go with any excuse. Phsa Chas and Phsa Leu, Old Market, New Market.

I always wish I was wearing boots instead of sandals. The floor is uneven, wet cement. If someone did a lab test on it they would find years of old decay, various species of urine, blood, vomit, vegetable and fruit juice and things I cannot even imagine. And the smells! Intentionally decaying fish called Khmer cheese, innards, meat with flies, exotic fruits and vegetables, dogs, cats, small children, and cases of brightly lit jewelry sparkling next to chickens being chopped. Women seated at a sewing machine sewing fine lace are mixed in with things fresh from the farmyard, forest, or garden. People are eating at counters and just drop their napkins and banana peels on the floor.

I much prefer this to the air con malls with ice cream and pizza and imitation McDonalds.

We stand at the counter of "Button Place" where the temperature is about 103 degrees with no breeze to wait our turn. People try to pass behind me and the aisle is so narrow we have to take turns. When I can turn around, I see yards and yards of fabric stacked and hanging in an area the size of my powder room. Mostly sheer tricot. Velcro? Yes! Have! We do not know the Khmer word so we bring samples.

As I come out into the light to the busy street, I see a dead mouse and something else kicked into the door way. A brief "yuk" and sad for mouse, then keep calm and carry on.

For Pat and Deanna, it's better than Disney.

Greetings from Siem Reap, Cambodia

DATELINE: July 17, 2013
Patricia E Lyon


Deanna and I have adjusted well to our new environment and are busy teaching at Bos Kralanh Village: "Strawberry Purse" (Kabob') The men and women are such eager learners. One has never used a sewing machine before. They sew, they smile, they rip out, they start again. Soon we will have a "party" with small packets of strawberry jam and crackers. Deanna will be the cashier and pay them for good product we hope Wisconsin people will buy. Tomorrow we start "Peace Purse" with Khmer writing. We will practice on paper first.

This afternoon we have meeting at Khnar Thmei Village regarding first aid training, English class, and daffodil flower for sewists.

Sam arrives tonight from Texas. He is our much needed techie. He will also try and find a better path for delivery of mosquito nets. Everyone is waiting for Sam to teach and fix computers.

Deanna and I have been walking between two rooms for the past two nights and mornings. One room no have AC. We thought we could survive it and were already asleep when a contingency of men: manager, sub-manager, ventillation expert and I don't know who else absolutely insisted we move to a new room because this was a full service hotel. It was an eloquent and convincing speech. Reluctantly, we moved toilet paper, tooth brushes, electronic equipment, passports, etc. across the hall to our new room. We were wearing very odd sleeping clothes that have been in Mr. Mony's duffle bag for years. New room have AC but cold water and CNN without sound. For 2 days we have one neat and tidy cold room and one room full of teaching supplies and mess that is a sauna. Many people going in and out. Perhaps today we will be back to just one very messy room that is constantly in process.

I have been in somewhat of an emotional turmoil knowing that the father of my children died this past week and I was not there to comfort them and their children. But they are very capable and I really could not be there for them if I was in Wisconsin. AWKWARD at best. I have been flooded with memories and find comfort in being very busy and with good friends.

Please keep us in your prayers. Teacher Pat

A Sea of Teachers-in-training before Me

DATELINE: July 30, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

The young men and women arrived 15 minutes before class was to start. At first, they just peeked in the windows and doors. Then they ventured inside. I wondered if I should start early, but then we decided to wait until a few more came. They sat on the floor. It was somewhat difficult for the young women wearing navy wrap skirts made from men's suiting. Both the young men and the young women wore long-sleeved pale blue shirts. Around their necks were long ribbons with photo i.d's.

I had all my lesson plans printed on the green board with white chalk. Mony came in and out, because he was also translating for Deanna teaching English in a far building. Makara, one of the directors at the school came in to translate and sew at the same time. She also happens to be Mony's sister, and daughter of Marath, director of Kessararam Primary School. It's all connected.

This was our first day to teach at Siem Reap Teachers Training College. It began as a 2 year program, now changing to a four year program.

I prepared all my projects for hand sewing because I did not know someone had already bought them 10 sewing machines.

I was a little worried that they might be disappointed in the projects. Instead, they asked to skip the break to keep sewing. Then they asked if they could stay a third hour to keep sewing. I said I could not, because I did not bring a third project. We finished pin cushion for safety and two yo yos. Tomorrow tie purse.

They like. They all came up to the front of the class and bowed to me with hands touching each other and pointed fingers. In perfect English they thanked me. A teacher's dream.

A torrential rain fell off and on during class. As we left, buckets came down. Mony tried to move the car closer, but he managed to park under a downspout. A very strong car wash. A student held a flowered umbrella for us. We took Prem to his car. He rolled up his pants to open the iron gate by the road. When we arrived at the hotel, Kosahl had made 4 desserts from tapioca. One had palm sugar sauce. One had coconut milk. One was baked in a fire like bratwurst. One was steamed. We ate all. All, all, all. The rains kept coming and we did not care. I miss my family and friends, but all I can think is "wish you were Here". Really.

A Spider in the Squat Toilet

DATELINE: July 30, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

I went to fill the squirt bottles for ironing today. The nearest bathroom was locked. (Not working) Mony showed me another one, farther away. I opened the door to the toilet. It was a squat toilet with a plastic pan and a tank next to it. As I set down my back pack and faced the door, I noticed a spider the size of my hand. It was brown with fuzzy legs. Once at Socheata Hotel, Deanna and I had such a spider in our room. This time, I did not call for help.

The spider and I both minded our own business.

Later, I showed Mony the spider. He just looked at it.

What Is In Madamme Pat's Suitcase

DATELINE: September 3, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

The Excel Queen spent much of our last day doing statistics and loving every moment of it. She is the EXCEL evangelist. She inventoried every staple, pin, paper clip, book, etc. and on and on in the stay-in-Cambodia duffel bag.

Then she asked, "How many items do you think the Women's Development Association in Hope sewed this year?

I guessed over 300 items.

No

556!

Peace purses, strawberry purses, envelope purses, ring cases, 2 wine gift bags and one tie purse with computers on it.

Before I left, Mr. Sok and some of the villagers prayed that people in the U.S.A would buy the the items in the suitcases so they can develop a micro business. He has a dream that there will be a 2-room traditional building on the cowpath near the cashew nut tree where the women can sew and sell their wares.

The prayers of a righteous man availeth much.

The Royal Sendoff

DATELINE: September 3, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

All week the staff was inquiring about our time of departure. Numerous fond words and cell phone pictures were offered. Yesterday, THE DAY, Mony, the greatest packer of suitcases ever worked on our five suitcases. There is a sixth giant duffel bag that he keeps at his mother's house with things we use every year: sewing items, 2 lamps, clothes, plastic hangers, maps, etc. This year there were an additional 3 empty water bottle boxes filled to the brim with my clothes for next time and whatever else I could not fit into my suitcases. Mr. Sok would keep that in storage in the attic buying room of his house. After we left, Mony would get to sleep in our Air Con Room and reap the harvest of all the shampoo, snacks, and other stuff he could not take home. His wife would get my empty purse because I was carrying a new silk one home.

About 5:00 p.m. I had a meltdown. I always keep the copies of my flight arrangements in the desk drawer in a plastic folder. I had seen it in the morning, now, no have. Deanna had an extra copy that probably would have been okay. Mony came to the room. He had just had his Toyota cleaned inside and out. When I explained my dilemma, he ran out the door, leaving it open. The cleaner woman and rest of the staff was immediately on it. They began by going through the garbage. Oh no! It was about 115 degrees outside. I felt terrible. Then he began to go through our incredibly engineered suitcases. Deanna set them aside for weighing thus revealing my lost papers!. They had slipped under the suitcase!

Mony told us that the managers were accompanying The Princesses to the airport and that he would come to the room before 9:00 p.m.for suitcases. Sure enough, Mony and another guy arrived just as Deanna and I could rest for a few moments. Then the good-byes began, but not really, because they were all coming to the airport to see us off!

Mr. T and Tiara (the managers), their two children, the grandmother or aunt, who accompanies the children were in the truck with the giant suitcases. "GM" the General Manager was in the front seat with Mony. Kosahl climbed into the back seat with us. When we arrived at the airport Mr. Kosahl called his wife so she could say good-bye too. Khmer people do not hug, they bow. But they hugged. All hugging and hugging. Then Deanna and I carted our luggage inside. We weighed in at just ounces around the 50 pound limit for each of the 5 suitcases.

After loading and passport checking, we had to follow a young man outside to an office to pay the baggage fee of $200.00 for the third bag, so we walked by our entourage again. And again on the way out of the office. It took forever because the credit card machine was not working and he accidently charged me $2.00 instead of $200.00 and had to get a manager to undo and re-do it. Which would have been nice.

It is the custom of our Khmer friends waving good-bye to wait outside at the window because they can see when we have made it through security and offer a final good-bye wave. After the final wave, we only had a few minutes until boarding.

Did I mention that today we gave out 24 tips to the staff?

The Women's Development Association in Hope was getting ready to surprise us...

DATELINE: August 30, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

...when we were trying to surprise them!

They were sweeping off the tiles in front of Mr. Sok’s house. Where were the moto bikes and the old bed frame? Tables were being set up. Red plastic chairs were tucked under the table. A lace tablecloth fluttered down. We unloaded soft drinks, cookies and fresh fruit.

It didn’t take us long to see that there was a plan. Other guests were introduced: in-laws, cute babies and a hungry passer-by. Mr. Sok had printed a program which included the prayer. Bowls of rice, chicken, morning glory and a mango condiment for fish floated onto the table. We brought small containers of strawberry jam and rice cakes because of strawberry purses. A large fish on a platter was set down in front of me. He looked at me with his round eye, but I ate a piece of him anyway. Mony put the wing of a small fowl on my plate but I tried to cover it up with the fish skin. A certain friend caught me at it and suggested I put it back on the platter.

Just as the fruit, tea and cookies arrived, heads turned to see a Land Cruiser coming up the cow path. (Quite a cruise.) The guests told us it was an official of the commune. An official in charge of nine villages-Cambodian Peoples Party. I assumed he had been invited, but evidently, he just showed up and happened to find a party. I offered theh official the strawberry and peace purses and he examined them thoroughly (as though Deanna, Mony and I had not already done so.)

Mr. Sok shared his cream that there would be a two room building next to the cashew nut tree where women could sew and have a small shop. One of his sons is a tour guide and explained that tourists are asking for time in the countryside. They could be served a light repast, enjoy the bird in a cage in the tree, the dogs, chickens, cows and lush rice fields. Then they could see what the Women’s Development Association in Hope were making in their workshop.

The Women's Development Association in Hope began its formal time of presentations. There was a very fancy letter, which we need to get translated, then presents! Mony, Deanna and I opened pretty boxes and found kramos. Deanna’s scarf and my scarf were bright pink/coral. Mony bragged that he got two colors: orange and green. Deanna and I opened our second packages. Teal nail poish and royal blue nail polish. Pictures, pictures, pictures.

Then I brought out the cellophane bags tied up in a ribbon. Two labeled for men and the rest for women. The men got cloth-covered notebooks and deodorant instead of make-up and jewelry. The women received rummage-esque jewelry, sewing notions, toiletries, more strawberry jam markers, face masks and make-up.

Soon the babies and women were all wearing jewelry. Mrs. Sok graciously allowed herself to be plopped into a chair and have a makeover. She also received some wild sun glasses with white leopard print on the bows. More pictures, hugs and tears.

And I could feel the pull, time to go back but wanting to stay.

It was a lot like the Rankin lawn picnics.

The Impression

DATELINE: August 29, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Deanna and I walked on Thnou Street, dodging tuk tuks, parked moto bikes, garbage, massage brochure-givers, land cruisers, bicycles, dogs and much, much more. To my left, I was aware of a Caucasian boy with a short hair cut who looked like one of my grandsons. He was with his family.

In the same moment, he and I both noticed a Khmer man sitting in the street, selling books from a box hung around his neck. The man had no legs and stump arms. He was most likely one of the many Cambodian land mine victims. Perhaps as a child, he was bringing home the family cow and set off a device planted during the Vietnam War.

I watched the boy’s face. I witnessed a transformation. He had been a tourist who used his summer vacation to visit a World Heritage Site. Now, he has become a man who looked poverty in the face. Maybe he will want to make a difference. At any rate, he will never be the same.

I long for my grandsons to come to Cambodia some day.

I'm not Oprah and this isn't Switzerland, but...

DATELINE: August 29, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Deanna and I brought up the idea of a field trip with the Bos Kralanh Women’s Development Association in Hope. We presented the idea of visiting an NGO shop that helped physically handicapped people from polio and the gift shop in the National Museum. Our project manager shop was determined that shopkeepers would not welcome our group because they would know that Khmer people only come to look and not buy. We would be taking up their valuable time that should be used for real customers. We had just seen the Oprah incident and found this to be rather alarming. But Deanna and I were quite sure this would not be the case. We had already visited the shops.

On the day of the field trip, we arrived in advance of the moto bike brigade to explain that we were a small NGO and wanted our sewists to be inspired by the equality of their shop and see how it was set up.

The NGO “Ganesha” graciously provided bottles of water. The lead person spent quite an amount of time explaining how they try a new design and then fail many times until they get it just right. (Like us.) Then someone copies their idea and they have to start all over again.

The sewists were enrapt. The shopkeeper invited us to come back or call at any time. They wanted to help. Deanna and I bought more. We hand delivered a thank you note.

At the museum shop, I went inside and told one of the shopkeepers that our group was about to arrive and they might be a little shy. She met us at the door and introduced everyone to the shop. She ended up telling Deanna about her conversion to Christianity.

We saw the same items made by Ganesha were much more expensive at the museum shop. Our group took note. While Deanna and I were trying to decide which purse with pearls and pleats, I nearly shoplifted by accident and one of the women asked me in a friendly way about one of the purses in my bag. Oh, dear. I did buy two very interesting purses to use as guides for ideas for next year to make in Cambodia and take to the U.S.A. My credit card was accepted. It was the first time I tried it out in Cambodia. You must call your credit card company when you anticipate travel or the computer will take note of your unusual location and your card will be declined. Which is a good thing.

We continued our field trip to our favorite Khnmer restaurant. Yummy. I had dried fish with rice and watermelon. (Not mixed.) We all shared and tasted.

The next day we agreed that Cambodia is developing in a healthy way of helping each other and partnerships. At least this was our very positive experience.

A post script

DATELINE: August 28, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

This is not the ordinary pattern for me, but I went from 8:00 a.m. when I left the hotel until 4:00 p.m. when I returned without “voiding.” I did not have to go into the forest. Deanna: same, same.

Why? It’s like that here. TMI or interesting?

Wow...I cannot explain...

DATELINE: August 28, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

…but I will try. The music in church Sunday at Khnar Thei Village was so wonderful that I just crave it when I am away. You have never heard “Nothing But the Blood of Jesus” and other such Victorian hymns sound like they do at the Khnar Thmei Methodist Church. The music is still in my head: Deanna’s new (used) Yamaha keyboard, Thro (like a violin), drum, tambourine and guitar, and bold singing in Khmer/English.

After a wonderful sermon which I kind of understood, I retold the story of the Last Supper which managed to include King Jayavarman. I asked who would betray Jesus? They knew.

Then Pastor Sokha and I took the dainty white cloth from the elements. It was really inexpensive white lining but passed for exquisite organdy. When he took the wooden lid off the tiny communion cups I was amazed at the color of the grape juice…lavender. The bread was a wonderful fresh baguette. We stood in a large circle and Pastor and I passed the bread and wine around. We ran out of baguette after me, the last person, so I had a little extra.

After worship, everybody knew what to do and who was riding with whom.

Mony had shopped Saturday and the car was full. He managed to add an orange cooler filled with ice and some fresh fruit to fit in the car.

The road to the picnic site was quite a challenge for the weighted Toyota. We wove around and through puddles of unknown depth and contents. We were surrounded by blue butterflies that I had never seen before. After some negotiations, we parked and all the students appeared to carry the food.

Deanna and I had barely made it down the branch/dirt ladder to the picnic mats on the lake when we noticed people were already setting up the meal. They knew what to do.

Deanna spoke about the program and how happy we were to see all the families there. This is the first year that some of the more shy parents came to the celebration. A card was passed around which became more like a year book. Su Ahn is a natural at making sure stuff like that gets done.

Mony purchased fish, chicken and rice from local vendors. It used to worry me a little but now I dive in. Mony had managed to find neon magenta dragon fruit. I had never seen it before. So beautiful and sumptuous.

Some of us flopped into hammocks. Others gracefully put on swim clothes while wrapped in sarongs. We took pictures of people floating in inner tubes and splashing. The rain showers made no difference to people in the water or out of the water.

Then the wet ones began to come in and put on dry clothes. Sopheap was honored for completing four years at the University of Southeast Asia. She took the card as her gift…from all thirty-one that attended the second annual graduation party.

Next year there will be five graduates! I can’t wait.

Like A Rare Butterfly or A Precious Brooch

DATELINE: August 23, 2013
Patriciwa E Lyon

Mony and I began our last session at the Siem Reap Teacher Training College at noon today. At ten minutes to twelve, the floor was already covered with dark blue skirts. There were three young men in navy trousers and blue shirts in the back row. I began to arrange the scissors, clippers, thread and cotton rectangles on the two front tables.

Mony said, “I think today more students.” I worried that I might not have enough supplies. I poured the rice into plastic containers with cut-up water bottles for filling the pin cushions. Then I took out the envelope of donated sewing needles. Each needle was woven into a piece of scrap paper. The students had arranged themselves on the floor in a perfect crossword puzzle grid. They looked at me expectantly.

I visited with them a little bit as Mony translated. They smiled. I asked them if they had seen some of the things the other students had made. Yes, they had.

Mony counted 32 students. I had them move the sewing machines up against the walls.

Without words, I signaled with my hands to make the rows even more straight because more students walked in bowing politely with hands folded together. I referred to the words I had written on the board. Upon request, Mony translated the words into Khmer: button, thread, scissors, clippers, needle, pin, pin cushion. They want to know. I motioned one row at a time to come forward and get their supplies. Such a hard decision to make about the cotton rectangle, jelly beans from the inside of a vest I bought at a rummage sale at Waupun UMC? Christmas material donated by a certain friend of a friend in Delafield? A piece looking to escape my attic? Then I asked them to move one more time to find a sewing partner.

They were very intent on sewing. The room was still. Every needle had been taken from the table, just enough. Next to each student was an open notebook. The page was divided with a ruler-guided line. English on one side, Khmer on the other. They had listed all the words on the board.

After their rectangles were decorated with a button and filled with rice, they whip-stitched them shut. Then they came forward to get 6 pins apiece. (People had donated.) They selected two circles of cotton for yoyo class on Monday. They did not want to stop.

They sat for some time, holding the completed pin cushions on one hand or shyly showing them to me. Three automatically began to sweep up the rice and thread. As the Toyota pulled out, I saw them standing outside the classroom holding their pin cushions like rare butterflies or precious brooches. I wondered with Deanna if they had ever had an art class or been able to make something they could keep.

Every day I am reminded that I am still far removed from the poverty that engulfs them. They are bright and beautiful and gifted. When they are sent out as teachers, some will face between 50 and 60 children in classrooms without electricity. They will shape Cambodia’s future.

How Turning 68 Has Its Upside

DATELINE: August 22, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

We had just freshened up when Mr. Kosal, the hotel chef, knocked on our door. He was wearing a new red striped shirt. He said, “Pat, we are having a party for you. Come downstairs.”

Wow. The new outdoor dining area was set with table cloths and linen napkins. In the dim light, I saw a barbecue bucket with coals and smelled wonderful kabobs. More dishes appeared. All kinds of sauces, chopsticks, table wear, glasses and platters of wonderful things appeared before me.

More and more people appeared. The entire hotel staff. Over 20 people and some of their families. Deanna began taking pictures. An orange cooler was opened to reveal Angkor Beer, lychee juice and some kind of wine cooler things called SPY, two colors, one for man and one for woman. Sky brought me a shirt he had made with folding riel paper money. Then he brought me a drink in a fancy glass containing Bailey’s Irish Cream and Kailua. My name was printed on the drink somehow. It was decorated with a frangipani flower which grew near the pool. Yummy.

I dipped lettuce, vegetables, pork and I do not know and rice that stayed in a rectangle into the sauce. I ate the kabobs. Kosal showed me how to do all this. There were platters of fish that had been marinated in salt and cooked on the grill. They still had their heads. Kosal put it on the plate and told me not to eat the skin and scales.

Then the lights went out. I thought maybe the electricity went out, but no. Mony and Kosal had arranged for the lights to go out as the cake was brought in. It was a cake like no other. It was frosted in some kind of egg white fluff with pastel colors. It said “Happy Birthday, Madamme Pat.” There was a giant pink rose next to a large pretty (if you will) chicken. Two candles kept getting blown out by the flame. One was a “6” and one was an “8”. Then they sang an Asian version of Happy Birthday. The son of Tiera and Mr. T, the managers, stuck his finger in the frosting. I put frosting on chopsticks for him and his sister. Then they were whisked away.

Mr. Kosal’s wife from Battambang called to me to wish me happy birthday. Cone hats were passed out. More pictures. More food. My number 7 grandson emails to me, “Cookie Grandma, what kind of cake do you want when you come home?”

I do not know. Maybe angel food with strawberries on top?

Today I tried on some clothes at the home of my tailor. They were all too small!

My Exotic Surprise Birthday

DATELINE: August 22, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

We moved through our busy day of errands and classes gracefully. While in the 1991 Toyota, Mony was often on the phone. I did not think too much about it because some of it was about making arrangements and schedule changes. A large group of Koreans are visiting the Teacher’s Training College so our classes have been shortened in length. On Thursday, classes would be cancelled. As we exited through the iron gate of the school, 400 student teachers were in the open air auditorium wearing new pastel shirts of aqua, yellow and melon. Four were on the stage vying for two chairs. The students were having a blast.

As Bos Kralanh we offered the idea of a field trip for Thursday. I will write more about that later, then we went to the old market for more errands. Somewhere in the day, Mony asked me about the year I was born. I am born in the year of the chicken.

Deanna wanted to take me to the Elephant Bar at the Grand Hotel for my birthday. As Mony dropped us off, he broke down and told me that the staff was having a party for me at the hotel and we should hurry back!

The Grand Hotel is the oldest hotel in Siem Reap built during the French colonial period. We were met at the door by several staff members wearing various types of elegant uniforms, white suits and outfit I cannot describe except it was capped with a spiked helmet.

We considered the lengthy menu. Then we ordered breaded deep fried goat cheese and chicken satay with peanut dipping sauce. We were also surprised by fabulous fried banana chips seasoned with yummy black pepper. There were small clusters of crunchy rice flavored with turmeric. (Deanna thought.)

Then we meandered through the elegant and out of our price range gift shops. I bought an elegant bag made of strips of silk, Perhaps I can use it for a pattern for the sewists next trip, Then we grabbed a tuk tuk back to a more middle class neighborhood.

Toilet in the forest

DATELINE: August 19, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Plans are well under way for a celebration for our education scholarship graduates for Sunday. Last year Deanna held the first graduation party at the West Baray. It is a beautiful picnic spot with sheltered areas with mats and hammocks. It is on the site of an ancient human-made lake with boat ride to the remains of a temple on an island. Not far from Siem Reap. You can go by moto bike. You can buy souvenirs, roast chicken, rice and other snacks. We visit together and honor our two graduates.

Channy from a first year of foundational study to qualify for the year-long course of culinary arts at Paul Debrule School and Sopheap from 4 years with bachelor's degree from University of Southeast Asia. Those still in school and their families are invited to attend. They like. We like. It will be held Sunday, after church.

We were talking about details and groceries in the car after class. That was when I inquired, “Is there toilet at West Baray?” And Mony replied.

Guess I will use the one at church before we leave.

What happens in Mr. Sok's attic...

DATELINE: August 19, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

...does not stay in Mr. Sok’s attic.

Deanna, Mony and I climbed the steep cement stairs to Mr. Sok’s attic. It is a large space with shuttered windows. I looked around and saw a small cupboard and a bed covered by mosquito net. We were seated on a woven mat on the dark wooden floor. The others were still downstairs sewing. From the door, we looked down on a beautiful rice field, the shower house, sleeping dogs, moto bikes and tall sugar palms. We carried a green (“money green”) zipper bag with Angkor Wat Temple embroidered on it. We had stopped at the Money Exchange before we came so we could pay each person in cash.

Deanna carried a carbon receipt book that cost us fifty cents and a hot pink ledger book.

One by one we opened the large plastic bgs that contained the precious pieces each person had made over the past weeks. Peace purses, strawberry purses, envelope purses, satin and lace jewelry cases, and bracelets made from the narrow end of donated ties. We inspect. Pocket not reinforced. Not okay. Snap thread not matching. Send back. On and on. One by one the sewist is called to the attic and we gently point out: “Yes, O.K.” or “Not yet. Fix.” They know.

They wrote their names in Khmer on the Building Cambodia business card and put it inside their product. We counted out the cash and gave it to them. We signed the receipt; they signed the receipt. Mrs. Sok brought us water and adjusted the fans. One hour for each person.

This is the beginning of our micro-business. We need you and your contacts to complete the circle.

The space next to my bed is again filled with plastic bags of beautiful things. Airline allowance: 2 bags 50 lbs. each. Hmmmmmmmm.

What happens in Mr. Sok's attic...

DATEINE: August 19, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

...does not stay in Mr. Sok’s attic.

Deanna, Mony and I climbed the steep cement stairs to Mr. Sok’s

Full Disclosure "Yes, come, but I should tell you...

DATELINE: August 19, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

…what happened to Madamme Deanna today.” The Lay Leader of the Wisconsin Conference United Methodist Church was locked out of her classroom today, so she moved next door to me (the sewing classroom). It was comforting to me, because Mony was interpreting for her today and I was winging it. We both had great classes and then dashed off to Bos Kralanh Village for an exercise in matching embellishments with colors of lace and satin. They liked.

Then Mony, whose stomach was not good, dropped us at the hotel. I gave him Equate Pepto-Bismol. Then we grabbed a tuk tuk to the Old Market and enjoyed Mexican food and people watching. On to errands, the aromatic food section of the Old Market and trying to walk by the bazaar without attention deficit of purses and jewelry. (Oh, Madamme, you want scarf? I give you cheap price,) OMG.

On to our friends at the night market who have elephant pashimas waiting. We buy the pashimas but binge on bracelets, more earrings, etc. We both wilt suddenly and get a tuk tuk. We drag our packages up the steep stairs rather than taking the elevator. We eat chocolate, drink soda and juice and revive.

Only after watching TV and while typing in her notepad does Deanna tell me what happened right next to me in her English class.

I heard no screams. BUT…as she reached into her metal cupboard for a box of chalk, a giant spider jumped on her hand. It was as big as her hand and it was heavy. It jumped on and it jumped off. It was the sister of the spider I saw in the toilet. (OK I made that part up.) Her comment was “just be aware.”

Still wanna come?

up to you

DATELINE: August 19,2013
Patricia E Lyon

I think often of all of you who are considering coming to Cambodia. Perhaps God is nudging you to help in a developing country or for some unexplained reason you just want to come.

While it is fresh in my mind I will list some of the ideas I see for you.

Teach a workshop(s) on self defense or Tae Kwon Do. Teaching stations at Khnar Thmei Methodist Church, Siem Reap Teacher Training College, New Riverside Hotel.

Provide lessons or classes in beading. Many beads available in the market.

Provide a Vacation Bible School type experience for children at Khnar Thmei Methodist Church Saturdays or daily for short times. Up to you. Cokesbury or Westminster, etc. will have resources.

Come and buy paint and brushes and paint the church at Khnar Thmei inside and out. Church people will assist if you get them started.

While wearing sturdy gloves, carefully cut and roll up the rusty old barbed wire fence around the Methodist church at Khnar Thmei Village. People will help you. Take it to a recycling place. I worry about the children who play and swim there now. Tetanus.

From where you live track down the appropriate *4-H* representative and see if you can get them to get started in Cambodia. They have done great work in agriculture in South Korea. If 4-H is already in Cambodia, click “reply” and we would like to meet with them.

Teach English here. Levels from beginning to TOEFL.

Be an extra pair of hands to help us. And help us take first aid supplies and sewing items back and forth in our suitcase.

Computer technology is greatly appreciated.

Another idea from home. Establish a website for Building Cambodia Inc.

Sponsor a student for a year: tuition, books and uniforms are $500. Paul Debrule School for hotel, tourism and culinary arts is $660 for a one-year certificate.

And for a certain veterinarian, just near our hotel is the office of a veterinarian. Good place to start.

The Siem Reap Teacher Training College has an agricultural department. We will check it out if you are interested.

There are reputable hospitals here who would appreciate medical help. Close by are centers for physical therapy.

When Deanna and I get back home we will have the beautiful things that the Bos Kralanh sewists have made. Please buy the items we bring back. The money goes to clean water wells, education scholarships for Cambodian people and development projects.

The Temples of Angkor Wat are spectacular. They are just the beginning of the many fascinating things you will see in Cambodia. But the most wonderful gift to you from God are the people of Cambodia. Think about it.

Click reply if you want to talk to us about this.

Four to a desk

DATELINE: August 11 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Before Sam went back to Texas, he gave Deanna the money to provide desks for the Khnar Thmei Methodist children’s building. The money was given by the Hutto United Methodist Church of Texas.

We drove up and down the road to find place where make desks for children. We found a place where they make things from metal. Too hard to describe, but I took pictures. Sam had been researching designs for children's desks in Phnom Penh and Siem Reap. Sam made a down payment.

On Saturday, while Deanna and I were in Mr. Sok’s attic, the make desk company kept calling Mony about the delivery to Khnar Thmei church. Earlier in the week, when some of the order was ready, we went to look. We sat in the desks. A little girl sat in the desk. We took pictures. Mony said this place make many desks like this. Good for water, children write, last long time. Mony was busy setting up the new zig-zag sewing machine at Mr. Sok's house in Bos Kralanh Village when the delivery was made, so he called Tony to lead the delivery person to the church. On the way home from Bos Kralanh Village, we went to Khnar Thmei to inspect. Very exciting!

On Sunday morning, just at the last hymn the delivery truck came back to bring the other 8 desks. The children had been piled on the first 8 desks delivered Saturday afternoon four to a seat for Sunday School. Oh, so much excitement! New desks, new well fence, clean yard, new Yanmaha keyboard and adjustable stand!

Today we ordered 2 giant whiteboards for the wall of the children’s building. Deanna and I got a ream of paper, colored pencils and markers and whiteboard erasers. Spirits are high.

The desk builders did not expect payment on delivery. They said okay just bring when you have time!!!!!

The rag woman

DATELINE: August 9 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Mony drove us to class on Highway 6. We went through a red light. (A common occurrence). As we slowly moved forward, I heard a child’s bicycle horn and turned toward a woman pulling a large cart, like a farm trailer. She held a bar in each hand but stopped now and then to squeeze the bulb that made the squeak. The trailer was filled with folded cardboard boxes, plastic bottles and cans. She was wearing a heavy long-sleeved black shirt. Her hair was covered with a cap and a scarf. She was collecting recyclables, a convenience for businesses and a source of income for her.

I thought “What an easy life I have had, I have not had to pull a heavy wagon to earn money to buy rice and take care of my children.”

My second thought was of the story by Walter Wangerin, Jr., called “The Rag Man.” I was introduced to the Lenten story by Bishop Sharon Zimmerman Rader. The idea is that the “Rag Man” takes the rag of your sorrow or wounded-ness and replaces it with a new clean cloth and new life. But in taking on your old rags, his own life is diminished.

I see things in Cambodia that I take for granted on the opposite side of the world. When I am tired and feel myself thinking selfish thoughts, I am reminded how blessed I am that the Cambodian people share their lives with me.

A man looked at me funny yesterday

DATELINE: August 9 2013
Patricia E Lyon

He had a curious smile on his face. I smiled back. I was eating my chicken with rice soup, watermelon, dragon fruit and fried rice for breakfast. It took me a while but then I realized he was looking at the large flower I had pinned on to my shirt for the next class. It was made of three shades of bronze scraps from monk robes.

I just saw the same man again. In one hand he balanced a plate of fried egg, fried rice, banana and pineapple. In the other hand he held his quasi IPad with the screen showing his skyped colleague. They were both talking loudly. I tried not to listen or look. They were speaking in one of the many Asian languages I do not know.

Deanna is still missing class today although now she can use phone and Notebook if you contact her at deanna@buildingcambodia.org. She and Mony have cough, no voice and general not good. Last night we “googled” the drugs Mony gets her at the pharmacy for six dollars. At least you can google them. Hmmmmmm

Teaching 28 students to sew...

DATELINE; August 8 2013
Patricia E Lyon

on the floor. I start a second class of students today at the Siem Reap Provincial Teacher’s Training School. I arrive 15 minutes early to arrange materials and write on the green board. The students from my last class come by and peek in the windows and doors. I put my hands around theirs or wave and tell them I miss them already. They say, “same, same.”

Alas, twenty new students have already arrived and arranged themselves in two neat rows. They watch me closely. They look a little worried. I try to smile to reassure them. At 12:00 noon (your midnight), I begin to talk. Mony translates: I ask them about their homes. They are from the countryside. I tell them I used to teach small children. I used to live in a rural area like the students. More students trickle in, apologizing. Everyone chooses a sewing partner. They come forward, one row at a time to select a fabric rectangle, a button and a needle. On the “desk”, I have clippers and thread. I point to phrases on the green board. Two projects today: pin cushion and yoyo.

I briefly speak of classroom management and safety of children. Mony and I explain each step of the pin cushion. I invite one young woman to come forward to show how she has knotted her thread. They see the picture on the green board. I climb around them in my long skirt and bare feet to see if the stitches are small enough so that the grains of rice will not fall out of the pin cushion. I pick up each folded rectangle to examine. We stop to show shank button. I climb around the students to show them the button with the pin through the first stitches. Now they know.

Then I tell Mony, “Please tell them only four people to the table at a time to put rice in the pin cushion. Next time I look maybe 10 or 12 people scooping rice. Lost in translation?

I feel sweat trickling down my back. The students are doing overcast stitches to close their pin cushions. I tip-toe next door to observe the Apsara dance lesson. Oh, I want to be in this class, too. I run back to start yoyo. Mony and I look at each one. Stitches too close, too far from edge. A young woman masters yoyo and says “cute.” She likes.

By the second yoyo they have all attained yoyo cuteness. They pitch in to clean up and stop by the teacher: “See you tomorrow, Teacher.”

I hoist up my back pack and the empty plastic box that held the rice. I climb in the 1991 white Toyota.

Back at the hotel, my roommate is recovering from a cold. Mony gave her medicine from the pharmacy. She has been eating gallons of chicken soup. So much better.
Mony picks up our passport extensions, diet Coke, mints for Deanna and crackers I'm about to eat with Laughing Cow Cheese. Pre-tea time snack.

A Christmas tree made with crystal beads

DATELINE: August 6 2013
Patricia E Lyon

I invited each student to bring their purse to me. We sat side by side on chairs in front of the green board. Mr. Ora had told us he wanted us to interact with the students. I thought one-on-one would be good. A slender young teacher-in-training approached shyly, holding her finished purse. She had worked on it four days. The purse had begun as a wide polyester tie with peach, brown and cream stripes. Her sewing was exquisite. Her stitches were tiny, almost invisible. I examined her work carefully, inside and out. The pocket had been reinforced. The kabob was carefully pressed. I had laid out about 30 of the 200 brooches and other decorations that I brought from the USA. We looked at the desk in front of us. We held up several pins to the tab of her purse.

She said “Christmas tree”. The crystals picked up the colors in her purse.

I remembered this pin. I think it was in a clear plastic zipper case from the Vernon Presbyterian Church. I said, “This pin came from a teacher in the USA. She will be very happy that you have it.” She folded her hands and bowed her head.

Thank you, J.G. You just made a teacher happy on the opposite side of the world.

The flip flop is on the other foot

DATELE: August 5 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Two smart-ass teachers have been teaching English for 13 years. Now they are students because we asked, “Please, can you teach us Khmer?”

I teach sewing at 8:00 am. Deanna teaches English at 9:00am. A Khmer teacher teaches us Khmer at 10:00 am. This is my reaction to our first Khmer class. “oh, my God.” Teaching two USA women over 60 how to speak and write and read Khmer? There are 23 vowels. There are 32 consonants.

Today we drew and pronounced the first 5 vowels. You also can simulate this experience. Here is a language lesson for you not available on Rosetta Stone. Also cheaper.

In a tiny grid, draw a backwards printed lower case “r”. That is “srah ah”. Okay?

In a tiny grid, draw a teardrop with the narrow end on your right. The fat end can be up higher. This is srah ae”.

Now draw the tear drop with a small vertical line on the right narrow end. Looks like a whale? “Srah ei” (like eye).

Now draw the whale with a tiny circle as a tail on the right narrow end. This is “srah uh”. Sounds like being hit in the stomach.

Last one: Make two short lines on the tail of your whale. This is “srah eau”. Start out saying the name “Earl” but leave off the “l” and make a sound like my grandson not being able to say his “l’s”.

You now know how Deanna and I spent our morning. Now it’s your turn. Congratulations on learning the first five Khmer vowels.

Satin and lace spread out on the floor

DELINE: August 4 2013
Patricia E Lyon

The dogs no longer bark when we arrive at the home of Mr. Sok, Bos Kralanh Village. It was so quiet. I did not know all the women were inside already sewing. I gave Mr. Sok an enlarged picture of his youngest son that Suzanne and I used for presentations. The family was thrilled.

Then I began to look around. Some were making strawberry purses. Some were working on the tiny jewelry cases. I counted. Mr. Sok had made 21! Each one a different color, tied up in a ribbon. Oh, so lovely, and their own color combinations. The Khmer have a different color palette than ours. I went around and ooohed and aaahed. Then I spied many strawberry purses hanging on the wall. I asked if they were the work of the woman at a machine. She pointed to the other side of the room. She was pointing to Mrs. Sok! For three years she did not sew with us, only watching. She said it was her eyes. I put my hand on her arm and she pointed to her eyes and I hugged her. I still do not quite understand. But I think she was also lacking in self-confidence, and now she tackled the strawberry purse! Wow!

Next week we do quality control and buy the purses. How will I ever get them in my suitcase?

A day of miracles

DATELINE: August 4 2013
Patricia E Lyon

Mony, the project manager, had worked with Tony at Khnar Thmei Church to get the work day started before we arrived. The old fence around the well was already disassembled. Old rotted boards were neatly stacked away from the well area. College students (girls) were digging holes for new posts. Little children were running and fetching as requested. Pastor had the hammer and looked like crucifixion nails. Mony and pastor measured; they used fish lines measuring tape and old transfusion tubes that you buy at a lumber place. I have been looking for them for purse handles. Who knew?

Su Ahn on the non-glamour task of dradging the drainage ditch from the well's concrete drainage channel out to the greater yard. I swept the children’s building and noted it was time for new whiteboards. One was ripped off down to the wood peeling, and the other had seen its better days.

Deanna and I prepared a list of things still needed. She quietly asked Mony if she could take his car into town. He looked at her, astonished, and said “No!” Thank God.

By the time we finished the list, little kids had finished what we wanted to do anyway! So Deanna and I began digging around the well with very interesting tools. We pulled the roots, trying to stay out of the way of the post people. A spindly mango tree began to tip over. The pastor, in a sports hat and Lancome shirt hollered, “Take it out! Take it out!” People began to pull and the entire tree was dragged off. Su Ahn raked up grass, weeds and roots. We put them in the new garbage baskets from the noodle/basket village on the way to Banteay Srei Temple and the Aki Ra Landmine Museum.

We were all wearing neon orange work gloves. We sweat into them and had to hold our arms up from time to time to let the sweat run out. From time to time we commented on the wonderful team work of the Khmer. I wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, and at the last moment, used an Off towelette on my hair. Do not try this at home.

About noon, Prem came in the white Toyota to take me to Bos Kralanh Village for sewing project. Deanna continued with the church work day which was a huge success.

The most strange and wonderful Saturday night of my life

DATELINE: August 4 2013
Patricia E Lyon

We returned from a miraculous day in the villages dehydrated, ravenous and pleasantly exhausted. Deanna drank 3 cans of stuff from the tiny refrigerator. Then we had cheese and crackers. I don’t know why we were hungry, because at Khnar Thmei we had yummy treats of steamed sticky rice around various fruit wrapped in banana leaves.

After showering with various gels, we made dinner plans. We called downstairs for one order of fish and chips. We share. (not the shower). The fish are fresh water fish. Makes our Friday nights in Wisconsin seem pretty dried out and greasy at the same time, if you know what I mean.

Then we began searching through our TV options. We couldn’t get into the Catherine Heigel thing. I was busy counting and sorting for next week’s classes all over my bed and floor. Then we found Dr. Seuss’ Lorax.

But the best, the most wonderful thing came as a surprise. For a couple hours we watched a Russian variety show without subtitles. The emcees were: a man that looked like Liberace in a sequined suit, a larger version of Cher, and a Drag Queen with a mirrored helmet with a star on top. He/She was wearing goggle glasses, a lot of make up and large yellow orthopedic shoes. Deanna said it was a drag queen gone awry. There was an older, distinguished woman who seemed to be providing more thoughtful commentaries. We liked her the most but we don’t know what she said.
The audience was seated at round tables with what looked like tall glasses of beer in front of them. The level in the glasses never changed. The entertainers would be seated at the tables after their performance wearing something else.

There was jazz, near opera, romance traditional folk, and we do not know. Our favorite was a group in the most incredible costumes that looked very Uzbekistaniesque. We are still confused by the soloist whose back-up singers wore short flight attendant outfits and stilettos.

Finally we couldn’t take the not knowing any more and resorted to the Star Channel in English. We watched a program called “Nail Files” about a shallow woman in L.A. who has a nail polishing business like Jersey-licious. Brainless and could not be compared to the Russian variety show.

Little things mean a lot

DATELINE: August 2 2013
Patricia E Lyon

We are told by friends that we are staying in a four-star hotel. Maybe different idea about stars. We stay because our friends are here, and they help us accomplish many things for the vulnerable people of Cambodia.

One thing that worries us is a constant shortage of toilet paper. Because we stay a long time, our room cleaning does not occur until late in the day. The hotel is in very high demand, even though this is not high tourist season. (or so they say) Often tourists are turned away because there is no vacancy. The room cleaners are very busy.

Deanna and I often seek out the room cleaners or just take from their stash when we run out of TP. The toilet paper roll itself is very small, half glued together. Quality not good. But we are aware that the governments in Southeast Asia have no-cut laws in an attempt to save the forests. Paper is precious. Yesterday Deanna had an “aha” moment when she realized another reason we run out is because we are two women staying in the room and men do not use as much.

We often supplement with the good-for-nothing tiny tissue napkin things that they provide in the room. One roommate is often calling for help to the other, “Please, can you hand me the tissues?” We are glad when an arm bends around the bathroom door to provide. Yesterday when we came back from class needing to relieve ourselves in a hurry there was a Post-It Note on the new box of good-for-nothing tissues. It said, “Sorry it’s don't have.”

Due to assertiveness training many years ago today is a big day for us. When we go to buy yogurt and Cola Light we will also buy toilet paper from the western market. It only took us a month to reach this decision. We try to be careful about expenditures, but really?!

A Perspective

DATELINE: August 1 2013
Patrica E Lyon

It has occurred to me that I write as inspired and may not be reporting an accurate picture of what we are doing here. Since our arrival, much has been accomplished by what people from Wisconsin have sent with us and by our humble efforts.
Purchased building materials to repair and clean around the well at Knar Thmei Village Methodist Church. New sign will be made. Work day Saturday for clean up and repair of “pews.” Bought work gloves, woven baskets for garbage, hammer, saw and nails. Ordered the building of desks for desk/tables for 32 children in wood building at Khnar Thmei.

Repaired and purchased new computers at Bos Kralanh Village, Kessararam Primary School, Khnar Thmei Village.

Bought new zig zag sewing machine for Bos Kralanh Village with maintenance/repair kit and supplies, attachments to make buttonholes. Purchased ironing boards and irons, scissors, thread, clippers, pins and needles for Siem Reap Teacher Training College...beautiful shears and pinking shears sharpened at Nancy’s Notions and given to sewists at Bos Kralanh Village. Introduced four sewing projects at Bos Kralanh Village to teach quality control and concepts of design and marketing. We will buy excellent products and sell in USA (to you and your organization).

Today one of our students on scholarship at Paul Debrule School for Culinary Arts graduates. Only one seat is available for family so we could not attend. But we know the student and the attending relative will be thrilled and thanking God beyond our imagination.

Friendships made and strengthened. English and Khmer language taught and learned.
Created fellowship and holy time by organizing sewing/craft experience for intergenerational groups.

Sam and Deanna met with DHL in Phnom Penh to correct and change process for importing of mosquito nets from Chnnai, India to Siem Reap City. Deanna and Sam met with Country Director of Methodist Center in Phnom Penh to maintain our relationship.

Did further work to complete forms to become a 501(c)(3) organization for tax exempt status.

Made peace with a country once victimized by U.S. bombings and policies.

And much, much, much more.

Wait until Deanna starts wells and pig pens!