What You Notice

In the past month I have had several visitors. Last week I was visited by a friend I met in India, who is living there but is from the US. She is a journalist who majored in history and is very interested in politics. She would noticed things like infrastructure in different cities. She would ask about the government and why they chose to focus their efforts in some areas rather than others. She wondered what it was that made Cambodian Buddhism so much different than other traditions of Buddhism, and how it had been influenced by Hinduism. She asked well-educated, dynamic questions that I had never been asked before. I loved it! We had long discussions about how our cultures impact us, the history of different countries, and how it all comes together.

It was such a joy, being with her opened my eyes of new way to seeing Cambodia. I realized that her background, interests, and personality all changed how she viewed this amazing country.

A few days after I said goodbye to this friend from India/US, one of my dear childhood friends LexiJo arrived. These two friends are polar opposites, in so many great ways.

Lexi is a creative at heart, drawn to all that glitters. She notices movements, colors, and music. She would point out the blue tinted windows, the colored rooftops, and the lit buildings. Anytime a child or animal would pass by, she couldn't pull herself away. When we drove through the city in a tuktuk, she would be constantly immersed in the world we pass by. Her bright heart blends with this bright country so very well.

I was talking with my roommate about this, about how each of them see the city in ways that mimic their own personal interests. I reminisced on previous visitors and teams and thought about what their eyes were drawn to in Cambodia. My roommate asked what the thing I noticed when I came to Cambodia... I paused for a while, thinking back to that day 6 years ago. I remembered instantly feeling connected to the country, but I couldn't put my finger on why that was.

"It's the people"
She interrupted my thoughts, or maybe came right into them. She told me that  whenever we talk about Cambodia, whenever I come home from a day of work excited or defeated, it is always tied to the people in this culture. And she's right, even as this country is rapidly developing and changing, I am continually drawn in by the spirit of the Cambodian people. Their resilience and kindness brings me new joy each and every day.

So there's three of us- the historian/journalist, the creative, and the bleeding heart. Respectively drawn to the cultural context, the beauty of the city, and the hearts of the people.

And the reality is that for each person who is fortunate enough to visit this fantastic country, there is another lens with which they see it. Cambodia is all things to all people because each one of us is seeing the part of it that brings out our own joys and fears. Somehow it is funny, sad, and beautiful all at the same time. 

Powers and Principalities

I've been thinking a lot lately about justice. What's wrong and what's right? Whose side are we on? And who are we fighting against?

I used to clearly know right and wrong. I could tell you who the good guys and bad guys were.
The pimp? Bad guy
The slave? Good guy
The abuser? Bad guy
The abused? Good guy
The dictator? Bad guy
The refugee? Good guy
On and on it goes, on one side is the victim and on the other is the perpetrator.

Until I realized the one who abused me was also abused.
That pimp who trafficked that child was also trafficked when they were young. 
The bad guys were good guys at some point, now they are desperate for some sort of security, a shred of power that will help them feel safe.

So here we are, in this endless cycle of good people doing bad things and bad people doing good things and who really is the good guy in all of it?

I recently went to these two temples. They are on opposing hillsides, one called Phnom Broh (Man), and the other Phnom Srey (Woman).

We were first led to the temple of the man and so we looked around. It was breathtaking. Filled with ornate paintings and stupahs. Every way you turned there was some new, intricate detail that had been missed before. There were statues and tombs and temples, it was gorgeous. A few monks and laypeople walked around, enjoying the beauty and doing whatever rituals were required.

Then we went to the temple of the woman. There were still a few paintings and buildings, but in contrast to the man's temple it was pathetic. It obviously hadn't been kept up over the years as the other had. The temple of the woman required no fee to enter (as the man's did). And instead of people enjoying it and doing rituals, there were beggers on the steps.

Honestly, it infuriated me. For days I couldn't let go of my frustration at an overt example of women being treated as less than men. But who is there for me to be mad at? The builders? No, they were doing what they had to in order to feed their families. The people visiting the temple? No, they are only going to see that which was placed in front of them. The culture? Maybe, but the culture has made great strides- As my friend said, “at least they have a temple for the woman”.

While I look around and am surrounded with the issues of Cambodia- slavery, homelessness, disease...  I am also hearing about the issues in America- institutional racism, police brutality, and gun violence. It's all too much. There is such great injustice around, once again I look for the villain to be mad at. Is it the police? No, there are good officers who are protecting American citizens. Is it Trump? Not fully, if anything he deserves pity more than anger. Is it white people? Not fully, most white people are working with the culture that was handed to them and are unaware of the systems that keep racism alive.

Once again, the problem is so much bigger than any individual.

There is a verse in the bible that says “we do not fight against flesh and blood, but against powers and principalities”. For the first time in my life, I deeply believe that to be true. Misogyny, racism, superiority- these things are more than any one person. They are about the way power has been distributed, it's the principles we choose to live by rather than fight against.

So how do we fight it? Lately I've been wondering if the key is to stop fighting.

I get so preoccupied with fighting my enemy, that I don't realize they have also been beaten down by injustice. No one chooses to abuse or harm another unless they themselves have been hurt. This abuser, this pimp, this dictator- he/she has been hurt in the same way that they are hurting me and my loved ones. Maybe if I could learn to love them, together we could heal the scars. Maybe we could both learn to stop acting out of our woundedness and to instead seek wholeness.
Maybe Jesus was onto something when he said to love our enemies.

I don't fully know what it looks like yet- for my enemy to be a system rather than the individuals. But something tells me there is more to this than I ever knew.

Short Hellos and Last Goodbyes

Tonight I am going to a friend's house for a "goodbye dinner". This friend is leaving on furlough soon, and by the time she comes back, I will already be in America. So we are going to have dinner together. We are going to talk about the joys of the past and the uncertainty of the future, we will laugh and we will cry. Because all we have left are these fleeting moments.

Last night I met some new friends. When we talked about getting together later, I sadly mentioned that I'll be leaving soon, there isn't much time. So I asked them about their lives and who they were. Each person I meet teaches me something. I may only meet them this one time, so I try to learn all I can about who they are and where they come from. Because all we have left are these fleeting moments.

This transition time of preparing to go back to America has been uncomfortable for me. I feel like I'm starting to not quite fit here, but I also don't fit there. I'm trying to soak up each interaction and feel it fully, before it slips out of my fingers.

And as painful as it is, there's something magical about it. Each moment could be the last of its kind, giving it more value than these words will ever capture. I think I now know what they mean when they say "live as if each day were your last". It's not about having your affairs in order, it's not about making some grand gesture, it's about this moment. If this were your last moment, you'd savor it fully. You'd hold on a little longer in that goodbye hug, and you'd ask a lot more questions when you say hello. Because these goodbyes and hellos, these fleeting moments, are all we have.