A Quiet Khmer Day

It is a quiet Khmer day. I am interrupted only by the Tan Kang hotel maids stirring the insidious Cambodian dust around the room, and rearranging the inadequate bedding to make it look smarter, not cleaner. I spend the morning writing, such as I can, with a constantly interrupted internet. 

In time, my hard working, racing, wife returns from guiding her Malaysian Chinese chicks (20+ now) hither and thither across the outskirts of Siem Reap. I board the bus they travelled in, which reminds me not of American and Malaysian school buses, but of the colour of the Beatles’ Yellow Submarine. We head off to Wat Damnak temple to witness the Buddhist monks having dāna (lunch). Daily, early in the morning, the monks exit the temple with covered bowls and satchels. People give either food - in the bowls, or money - in the satchels, to sustain the monks for that day.

We briefly meet Director the Venerable Somnieng Hoeurn, who guides us to where the orange draped monks are sitting, cross legged, waiting patiently for their food. A chanting in Pali begins, first from the monks, then from the visitors offering dāna (which might be translated as giving, offering or alms). The food is distributed. The Venerable hastens off to  get his. We wander from the temple to the Life and Hope Association project set up by the Venerable Somnieng Hoeurn and established in 2005. It started as a singular project - Food for Education, and eventually grew into six.

A fellow Englishman - Clive Butler (Organisational Development Director), and his wife, have taken over the reigns of the sewing project and oversee the language learning side too. The ‘workers’ are having lunch, so we are able to see only resting sewing machines, limp lines of cotton thread and material awaiting loving hands. Those old machines instantly remind me of my mother, and the days she would spend sewing curtains, shirts or her skirts on her Singer treadle sewing machine, at home, in Essex. I sigh. Times change and Clive, his wife and I are a along way away from the London were we born in, both in time and in so many miles. We agree to consider the Life and Hope Association making some of the equipment we normally buy from outside, for the children in the schools Colors of Cambodia helps sponsor. There are cost considerations, but also ethical ones. By working with the Life and Hope Association we could be helping more Cambodians find work - something which in short supply in Cambodia.

It is a pleasant, welcoming, trip to the other side of the river. Sadly to say not all visits to other NGOs are as pleasant, nor as welcoming. In the evening we escort the Malaysian Chinese visitors to a small local orphanage. Siem Reap is full of orphans, and orphanages, some larger, some smaller, but all concerned with children’s welfare. I am looking forward to this walk. I have not been to this particular orphanage before, my wife has. We troop in the dark, balmy, evening by the side of the Siem Reap river, along the dusty road, past the usual sellers of bottled petrol, and past empty, resting,tuk tuks. We walk a little further than any of us thought, guided by the light from my small torch, attached to my house keyring. Eventually we reach the poorly lit orphanage.

We slide back the gate grill. It takes a little effort because of the build up of dust and debris, and enter the small compound. We are immediately confronted by two young, white, women who, evidently, are far from pleased to see us. True we have come outside of the normal visiting hours, but we had to wait for our visitors to use bathroom facilities before marching off with bags laden with goodies for these orphan children. We initially fear that we were being turned away after our walk. Perhaps we would have been, save for the smiles and the evident caring of a young male Khmer, who doubles as both a security guard at night and accountant during the day. Unlike the foreign volunteers, the Khmer (Cambodian) is most welcoming. He allows us to sign the visitors register and motions us to visit with the children. One foreign volunteer seems unhappy with this decision. He stands, folding his arms before him, closed off, unwilling to engage. As we approach the small area where the children are sitting with other foreign volunteers, we notice a lack of interaction between the volunteers and we visitors. The volunteers appear to be holding the children back from coming to greet us. There is no eye contact. 

Nevertheless, and because we are there for the children - not the volunteers, we distribute the toys, gifts and sweets to whoever manages to reach us, and give the rest to the Khmer guard/accountant to distribute later. We stay a short while. Those children who dare interact with us, do so, laughing and playing. As we leave, we ask the one approachable member of staff what the orphanage really needs - he says rice. They always need rice, and perhaps pork, but rice first and foremost. We leave, promising to deliver a bag of rice for the next day.