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!