tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42402385411058157802024-03-13T05:08:05.533-07:00Cook-ing in CambodiaRachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-43976352612276609282009-07-15T20:44:00.000-07:002009-07-15T22:47:26.320-07:00Do the hustle<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/Sl69unbinwI/AAAAAAAAALU/dGIp4cRwYBU/s1600-h/DSC05400.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358929215173598978" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/Sl69unbinwI/AAAAAAAAALU/dGIp4cRwYBU/s400/DSC05400.JPG" /></a><br /><div></div>Oh so corny but I couldn't resist using this title for this blog. I feel like I am doing the Cambodian hustle; the race around Phnom Penh to pick up stuff, drop off stuff and tie up those straggling ends of my life here.<br /><br />Right now, I am running around but it still feels so surreal. As I flag down a moto driver to take me to the market, negotiate the price, put on my helmet and hop on for the ride, I am reminded that I won't be doing this again any time soon. The basic details and tasks of life are changing. How frightening, but hopefully fantastic as well.<br /><br />Overall, in my tired, emotional daze, I feel richly blessed by this year, in a way I can't describe right now. In relationships, experiences, travel and work, I have been welcomed and taught by amazing people and places. For all that, I am grateful. What comes next I am not sure of but I suspect this experience will continue to unfold even after I have left Cambodia. Let's hope so.<br /><br />So we close with another favorite quote by Rainer Maria Rilke. It kind of perfectly sums up everything.<br /><br />"Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer." <br /><br />The more I see, the more I wonder, the less I know. What a mystery and blessing that is. Thank God!Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-88324236364223795312009-07-07T03:20:00.000-07:002009-07-07T03:43:22.718-07:00A village<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SlMlYU018YI/AAAAAAAAAK8/09CMfrLlmyw/s1600-h/DSC05457.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355665481711088002" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SlMlYU018YI/AAAAAAAAAK8/09CMfrLlmyw/s400/DSC05457.JPG" /></a> <div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SlMjbfe8gMI/AAAAAAAAAK0/kH-TWGhp834/s1600-h/Sign.jpg"></a></div><div>This sign says you are in Kroviek village. Its a tiny community at the base of a few small mountains, way way off the main roads. I visited Kroviek in March to talk with villagers about their history and experiences with LWF Cambodia.</div><div></div><br /><div>One of the things I love about LWF Cambodia is the way it approaches development. It isn't one project, a school or a road. It is everything, farms, finance, food security, health, sanitation, education and more. To see it first hand over the past 10 months has been humbling and hopeful. This <a href="http://www.lwfcam.org.kh/pdf/others/village_profile_web.pdf"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">little project</span></a> paints a picture of how it all works.<br /></div><br /><div></div>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-16560041192279010262009-06-29T17:58:00.000-07:002009-06-29T18:36:30.444-07:00Favorite Things<div align="justify"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SklpWTj2WtI/AAAAAAAAAKs/scfHx2Pisy4/s1600-h/DSC_0088.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352925464035220178" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SklpWTj2WtI/AAAAAAAAAKs/scfHx2Pisy4/s400/DSC_0088.JPG" /></a><br />One of the things I will miss about Cambodia is that even if you have a less than exciting day, your still in Cambodia with little surprises around every corner.<br /><br />It rained heavily yesterday afternoon so I wasn't alarmed that the concrete courtyard of my house was flooded with about four inches of water when I got home from work. Luckily, the rain had ended about an hour before so the water was not murky. I paused, watching the little bubbles popping up through the cracks in the concrete, took off my shoes and rolled up my pants (white leather flip flops don't do well with sandy water). The little girl who lives down stairs at my house ran inside to get a big red bucket and I was trying to figure out if she would attempt to float me through the water with it.<br /><br />Then something moved on the roof of the small warehouse next to our house. <em>Stupid horny cat</em>, I thought, guessing this was the creature whose yowling makes me cringe. But then I noticed its unusually long tail. And long limbs. And face. It was a small, pale monkey! I have never seen a monkey anywhere in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Phnom</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Penh</span> besides Wat <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Phnom</span> park and, though my land lady said there were monkeys near the house, I was pretty surprised.<br /><br />I started pointing at the monkey frantically as it crawled between the wooden openings of the roof. The land lady's husband, in only his plaid boxer/short things, plodded out into the water and looked up too. Unfortunately, the monkey was gone by then and I didn't know how to communicate that in Khmer. So I shrugged and waded over to the stairs to my porch. By then Alida (little girl) was back with the bucket and gave it to her dad and pointed at me. I tried to say I didn't need it but he came over to me on the stairs. And then he poured water from the bucket over my feet with a joking, "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Oooh</span>!"<br /><br />I laughed, said thanks and headed inside with a warm fuzzy feeling. This place and the people here continue to amaze me. </div>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-90570680951223260792009-06-08T00:15:00.000-07:002009-06-25T19:04:54.967-07:00Glitter and Glamour<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344859549390294114" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SizBcR_DTGI/AAAAAAAAAKM/zZ6dHoaByL4/s400/DSC_0124.JPG" /><br />I have a theory that when it comes to glamour, no one does it better than Cambodians. This was confirmed at the wedding of Martha, my coworker Savannary's eldest daughter. Vannary, Martha and the family were kind enough to invite me to watch the many ceremonies that make up a Cambodian wedding.<br /><div><br /><div align="justify">The wedding started on Sunday with a blessing by monks and offerings and continued Monday with the fruit procession and more ceremonies. All the ceremonies take place in the front room of the bride's house, which is emptied of funiture and then bedazzled with red and gold ribbons and flowers. Relatives come to witness and take part in the different steps. The rituals included "hair cutting," feeding each other in bed, offerings to the parents and blessings by those in attendance. And for each one there were different outfits! Marta wore at least eight different traditional costumes (that I saw). Each step was filmed and photographed with such tenacity that the camera men were kind of like hired paparazzi.</div><br /><div>The wedding concluded with dinner and dancing at Chenla theater for about 980 guests. I have to admit, I was a bit tired after just attending all the events. I gotta have respect for Vannary and her family for organizing everything and hosting so many people. I remember hearing people comment on huge, extravagant weddings in the U.S. and I think I can safely say that those don't hold a candle to the kind of weddings that go down here.</div><br /><div>Watching all the little steps in the process of Martha and Teathe's wedding, I was awed by how long it takes and how everyone is involved. It really is a gathering of family to support and bless this new union. In one particular rite, the bride and groom bent over golden cushions and held an ornate sword. Friends and family, starting with the parents, tied red strings from a bowl of flower petals and water around their wrists and blessed the couple. They also put money between their hands and the sword. It reminded me a little bit of the dollar dance that you see at some weddings in the States....but with more meaning and glam.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344859221370543426" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SizBJMBDHUI/AAAAAAAAAKE/Jczt2_U09AQ/s400/DSC_0074.JPG" /></div><span style="font-size:85%;">Ready for their blessing.</span><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344862902394418354" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SizEfc5h9LI/AAAAAAAAAKk/iuE2DkKvpTU/s400/DSC_0105.JPG" /> <span style="font-size:85%;">Relatives throw flowers after the blessing ceremony.</span>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-78616874651248434502009-06-02T23:24:00.000-07:002009-06-02T23:41:04.732-07:00Done riding elephants<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342985459015799378" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SiYY93S20lI/AAAAAAAAAJs/J2dPR39DgVg/s400/M-Falls.JPG" /><br /><div>Summary of May's trip to magically Mondulkiri:</div><br /><br /><div>lots of green space</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>lots of rain, lightning and house-shaking thunder</div><br /><br /><div>lots of bugs</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>many water falls</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>many hours in the car</div><br /><br /><div>good food</div><br /><br /><div>good friends</div><br /><div></div><div>And I am done riding elephants after four hours on top of a giant purring, tree munching one.</div><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342986093491736610" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SiYZiy5tUCI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/tUb1zVMBF6c/s400/M-Elephant+2.JPG" />Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-22353449223833417792009-06-01T01:52:00.001-07:002009-06-01T02:05:13.868-07:00Pomp and Circumstance Shout out<div align="justify"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SiOXFPdRLaI/AAAAAAAAAJk/xivxfpp128I/s1600-h/Braden.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342279699295972770" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SiOXFPdRLaI/AAAAAAAAAJk/xivxfpp128I/s400/Braden.jpg" /></a> Congratulations to Braden Cook on graduating from high school tomorrow! I received a scrolly, orange and black announcement and this dashing photo today. Of course, I had to show it off around the office. Coworkers expressed congratulations and some concluded that Brady and I look nothing a like. I told them, “Wait until my mother is here next week.”<br /><br />While trying to describe my relationship to him in Khmer I accidentally called him my son (goan proh). I corrected myself but the slip made me think how much I miss him. I have admit to feeling a little maternal about my siblings, especially the youngest, but that is pretty typical of us fretting, older sister types.<br /><br />Joking about family resemblance and mixed Khmer nouns aside, I am really, really proud of my little brother. He rocks and I can’t wait to see what shenanigans and adventures await him. </div>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-65937066206431099382009-05-27T18:15:00.000-07:002009-06-29T18:14:39.322-07:00Every day is a winding roadLesson learned today:<br /><br />Raid does not kill maggots.Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-6098068417753958682009-05-11T01:10:00.000-07:002009-05-21T20:29:28.505-07:00On the road again<div align="justify"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SgffOH3WRPI/AAAAAAAAAJc/tHSKK170U8U/s1600-h/Kroviek+Road.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334477717365998834" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SgffOH3WRPI/AAAAAAAAAJc/tHSKK170U8U/s400/Kroviek+Road.jpg" /></a><br />I know, cliche title but couldn't resist it as I will be spending at least ten hours in a mini bus tomorrow. This week marks holiday # 3,432,233 and # 3,432,234 of my time in Cambodia. Just kidding. But really, it will be my 20th and 21st official holiday.<br /><br />And what, you may ask, is the occasion. Tomorrow, in addition to being the birthday of my awesome sister, is also Royal Plow Day. This event is somewhat similar to groundhog's day but with oxen instead of rodent. Three royal oxen plow a symbolic circle in front of the National Museum and are then offered seven bowls of water, rice, corn, sesame seed, beans, grass and rice wine. Whatever the oxen eat is the crop that will prosper in the coming year.<br /><br />Royal Plow Day precedes a three day holiday for the King's Birthday. Rather than stick around and watch the oxen plow, I am headed off to Mondulkiri, an eastern province bordering Vietnam. I am looking forward to beautiful water falls and elephant rides. However, I am not so excited about the bus ride, which could become tricky if it rains.<br /><br />Besides literally being on the road to Mondulkiri, I find myself on the road in a more figurative way too. Though I have two months left in Cambodia, I can feel the pull of transition at my heel, like the current when you wade into a river. At night, I dream of being in U.S. amoung family and friends, either shocked to be there or nagged by the feeling that I should still be in Cambodia. I wake up startled but releaved to be in my wooden house and listen to the whir of the fan and the sounds of the neighborhood.<br /><br />I wonder who I will be after this experience. My identity here is built on being an expat, an NGO worker, a mission personnel, a friend to those I have met in Cambodia. I am still who I was when I left, a daughter, a girlfriend, a sister, a friend. I am also totally different. People are always encouraging you to take the road less traveled. But no one tells you what to do after that. Guess that's the point. </div>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-51637168938606622532009-04-20T03:01:00.000-07:002009-04-20T03:28:22.311-07:00Little April Showers<div align="justify"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SexN8IkDp5I/AAAAAAAAAIE/pVh9ocINyC4/s1600-h/rain.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326718154758662034" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SexN8IkDp5I/AAAAAAAAAIE/pVh9ocINyC4/s400/rain.jpg" /></a>April is the hottest month in Cambodia. Meaning 100 degrees, humidity, buckets of sweat, multiple showers a day, dust everywhere and trees heavy with gorgeous yellow blossoms. However, April is coming with an unseasonal twist this year, heavy rains.<br /><br />The communications office of LWF Cambodia moved last month from upstairs to a room adjacent to the main building. Today we are experiencing rain in our new office for the first time.<br /><br />It starts with Chanthorn noticing the ominous signs of rain outside. Ratna agrees it will rain. Then I ask if we have a tin roof. Oh yes we do.<br /><br />It starts with a few random plinks, like someone is throwing rocks up there. Within seconds it escalates to hammering and pounding. The thunder is rolling and the sound is almost like machine gun sound effects from a movie or soda can full of pebbles I used to shake at my dog but neither really captures it. Though we have to shout over it to be heard, I love the sound. There is nothing quite like it. </div>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-16644243898334297962009-04-04T20:50:00.000-07:002009-04-04T21:00:40.681-07:00Messages<div style="text-align: justify;">There is a saying in Cambodia. Men are like gold, once tarnished they can be polished to regain their luster. Women, on the hand, are like white cloth; once soiled they are stained forever. This duality exists all over the world to various degrees and it is deeply ingrained in the culture here. Women out late at night can be arrested on charges of prostitution even if they are just out to get milk for their children. Visiting brothels is normal and acceptable for young men but for a young woman to have a boyfriend is inappropriate.<br /><br />This saying's message is painfully apparent. Women are not worth much. One misstep can ruin their lives and reputations. This attitude radiates into many areas of life. Violence against women is wide spread and rapists can get off the hook by paying the families of their often shockingly young victims. Visiting a rural village last week, the women said domestic violence is a problem for all of the families. One woman was raising her three children on her own. Her husband drank and was not "right in the head." He takes out his frustration on her and the family. And there are so few resources for her, or for him, to change this pattern.<br /><br />I have been come more aware of this the longer I am here. And the more I see it, the angrier and sadder I get. So over the last four months, it has been a huge blessing to be involved in something that sends an alternative message. The Vagina Monologues.<br /><br />I have loved the play since I saw it in Missoula but never had the opportunity to participate. Begin here, in Phnom Penh, meeting with a group of awe-inspiring women to talk about that which is taboo, to embrace it and celebrate it, has been incredible. The Vagina Monologues is part of a wider movement called V-Day to end violence against girls and women. At face value, the play is hilarious and heartbreaking. But as it has grown into a global movement, the Monologues have become a tool for change. So far, our little performance has raised over $5,000 for Women Peacemakers, a Cambodian organization that teaches rural villagers ways to confront domestic violence.<br /><br />Here in Cambodia the cast has been all expats (not for lack of trying to recruit Cambodians). But I hope that as the play is performed year after year, more Cambodian women will become involved. This year, it opened each night with the Messenger Band, an all female Cambodian protest band. These women truly amaze me. Their songs speak out about women's rights, factory worker's rights and the need for men and women to work together for a harmonious life. Hopefully, their message can slowly change people's thoughts on rights and gender.<br /><br />Well I need to go get ready for our last performance. If you haven't seen the Vagina Monologues yet, I encourage you to look for a performance near you next year on Valentine's Day. Together, we can change the message.<br /><br />Check out www.vday.org for more information on V-Day!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SdgspH5U8cI/AAAAAAAAAH8/9FwHfvECe6g/s1600-h/The%2BVagina%2BMonologues.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SdgspH5U8cI/AAAAAAAAAH8/9FwHfvECe6g/s400/The%2BVagina%2BMonologues.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321052044743995842" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-7071079985582746652009-03-19T23:15:00.000-07:002009-03-20T02:57:53.185-07:00Adventures of a Peep<div align="justify"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315151986906931650" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/ScM2kjrMocI/AAAAAAAAAGk/kVbbvQMG_0I/s320/DSC05332.JPG" /> Once upon a time, packed snugly in a box, a group of peeps traveled from Idaho to Cambodia. It was a long journey across the Pacific Ocean to get to Phnom Penh.<br /><br />After they arrived, most of the peeps were content to sit in the box, waiting to be devoured. But one little peep was curious. It wanted to see Cambodia. So it hoped out of the box and ventured into the LWF office.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315153297479837746" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/ScM3w18IKDI/AAAAAAAAAGs/OLj9yrlQm4o/s200/DSC05334.JPG" /><br />The little peep quickly made friends around the office. Vutha held it...<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315155204460325362" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/ScM5f1_tKfI/AAAAAAAAAG0/OzDvk5fOFk4/s200/DSC05335.JPG" /> Panha gave it a kiss....<br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315155209826978354" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/ScM5gJ_NyjI/AAAAAAAAAG8/QI2PKziNjis/s200/DSC05336.JPG" /><br />and Borin gave it a ride on his moto.<br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315155209747597922" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/ScM5gJsSimI/AAAAAAAAAHE/OYwTdvpdkUM/s200/DSC05339.JPG" /><br />After hanging out in the office, the peep ventured outside. It took a tuk tuk to the market...<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315159774248002658" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/ScM9p1x_ZGI/AAAAAAAAAHU/tUKNtu47FsM/s200/DSC05348.JPG" /><br /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">And got some lunch.</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315159761467226882" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/ScM9pGK0OwI/AAAAAAAAAHM/wN2rW-RW8Os/s200/DSC05346.JPG" /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">The peep returned to the office and contemplated its future. Go back to the US and face massive falls in candy sales as economic crisis deepens, be eaten by a sugar-loving communications consultant or run away and melt in the Cambodia heat. Poor peep.</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Fortunately, the peep happened to have amazing computer skills. So it put them to use and started work on projects for LWF Cambodia!</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315159783508248786" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/ScM9qYRziNI/AAAAAAAAAHk/FEWLMwx3Gjg/s200/DSC05352.JPG" /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">And so the peep lived happily ever after in the LWF office with its new friends (including Sokny).</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315159786247934658" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/ScM9qie_0sI/AAAAAAAAAHs/3uh9P5EHiZY/s200/DSC05349.JPG" /> </div><div align="justify"></div>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-86111069951839874572009-03-05T18:02:00.000-08:002009-03-05T18:57:59.137-08:00InDesign makes my world go roundI am a design nerd. I love fonts (except for Comic Sans, which is evil). I have a habit of pointed out which ones are used in billboards, programs and movie trailers. Adobe InDesign and I have a long term relationship. In the last year, I have spent more time with this program than with my family.<br /><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">At last, all that nerdiness has been put to good use. Presenting the baby of the Communications Unit, conceived by many hours with InDesign, several weeks of visiting the countryside and a lot of editing. The LWF Cambodia 2008 Annual Report. Ta dah!</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="center">Check out the full report at </div><div align="center"><a href="http://www.lwfcam.org.kh/index.php?page=annual_reports">http://www.lwfcam.org.kh/index.php?page=annual_reports</a> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 283px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309902629778284082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SbCQTwfY3jI/AAAAAAAAAGc/HWoEwQ79iAA/s400/Cover_Page_01.jpg" />Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-87188544157918527172009-03-04T02:05:00.000-08:002009-03-05T02:28:06.293-08:00If you wanna be my songsa<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/Sa9qpFdvrWI/AAAAAAAAAGE/M5KTm1cXmYw/s1600-h/DSC_0142.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 266px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309579739767221602" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/Sa9qpFdvrWI/AAAAAAAAAGE/M5KTm1cXmYw/s400/DSC_0142.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />So for the past three and a half weeks, I was blessed to have Nathan visiting me here in Cambodia (thus my absence from communications with friends, family, etc.) It was so amazing to have him here with me, to walk to the<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/Sa9iDNvqvjI/AAAAAAAAAEE/twehz31c8AU/s1600-h/DSC_0317.JPG"></a> Russian Market with him, hear him give a tuk tuk driver directions in Khmer (after a few lessons) and just spend time together.<br /><br />Last night he boarded a plane for Seoul and as I type this he is probably curled up on a bench at in that spaceship of an airport. Though I felt ridiculously sad at times yesterday, today I feel grateful for his visit and hopeful that we will see each other again back in the US in July (ticket prices willing). Because I am a fan of list, here are the highlights of Nathan’s visit.<br /><br />Fish mas<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/Sa9o4TufdeI/AAAAAAAAAFk/34BaYLF6YvI/s1600-h/DSC_0331.JPG"></a>sage: Oh yeah, it’s weird. You put your feet in a pool of little fish and watch as they form a sock of wriggling tails and fins in a mad dash to eat the dead skin off your feet. Nathan tried this out at the night market in Siem Reap and then requested I join him for another round the next night. For a person with ticklish feet, the first 5 minutes of this are torture. We grimaces and squealed like preteen girls at a Hannah Montana concert as the little mouths ni<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/Sa9lnGHWMyI/AAAAAAAAAFE/aiNSydeXgFQ/s1600-h/DSC_0357.JPG"></a>bbled away.<br /><br />Sunrise at Angkor Wat on Valentine’s Day.<br /><br />Eating:<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/Sa9mPqz-7ZI/AAAAAAAAAFM/1r9JO8Wqj0U/s1600-h/DSC_0317.JPG"></a> All day, every day. Phat Thai on Ko San Road in Bangkok, a wedding feast in Phnom Penh and a giant meal with my lovely coworker Vannary and her family on a river boat cruise. Also, I must not forget to include the massive Costco bag of candy and the giant jar of Jelly Bellys brought by Nathan I am rapidly devouring.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>Ko Chang: An laid back little island of the coast of Thailand where we stayed in a 1970s looking mini cabin on the beach and snorkeled with the puffer fish. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/Sa9iCWe52oI/AAAAAAAAADs/P0mF8fatw2w/s1600-h/DSC_0053.JPG"></a><br /><br />Wedding picture: Now we did not get married. But for our third anniversary, I “treated” Nathan to a Khmer style photo session. For him, it entailed white pants, purple shirt, a Titanic style "Heart of the Ocean" necklace and a touch of pink, shimmery lip gloss. Unfortunately for me it was 45 minutes of intense make-up application (complete with little pieces of plastic tape to make my eye creases bigger), hair styling and general bedazzlement. The result is the hilarious picture above.<br /><br />Of course the trip wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Protesters in Thailand made for a tricky ride to the airport, we got “lost” among the Bangkok’s mega-malls, I lost it a few times in negotiations with tuk tuks and the heat and sickness paralyzed Nathan on several occasions. But nothing stopped the visit from being wonderful and inspiring. I am left remember lines of the poem that has become our relationship anthem since I accepted this position in Cambodia.<br /><br />here is the deepest secret nobody knows<br />(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud<br />and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows<br />higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)<br />and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart<br /><br />i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/Sa9iCDGjXYI/AAAAAAAAADk/WbeBDB3VDxM/s1600-h/DSC_0001.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309570273025154434" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/Sa9iCDGjXYI/AAAAAAAAADk/WbeBDB3VDxM/s200/DSC_0001.JPG" /></a>P.S.<br />Songsa is Khmer for boyfriend</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-22461998549720014812009-01-27T06:49:00.000-08:002010-03-07T21:34:04.300-08:00This is why I'm hotOh the cold season in Cambodia. What a tease! A few weeks of blissfully cool weather (in the high 70s) and then it is all snatched away. I was enjoying sleeping under a blanket at night without a fan and wearing hoodies to work in the morning. But then, on Friday, I sat on the back of a moto on the way home from work and caught myself pouting as I began to sweat. Good-bye blanket, farewell hoodies.<br /><br />But this entry is about more than me whining about the heat. I am hot not only because of my proximity to the equator. Oh no. I am also hot because of my Space Crown. That's right, my Space Crown, my trusty helmet. Purchased in my first week here, this ever so stylish headgear made of foam and plastic has been my constant companion. I bought it with help from my old tuk tuk driver. He pointed to it and said, " This is made in Thailand. Good." Pointing to some cheaper options he said, "Those are made in Cambodia" and shook his head. So it was settled.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SX8gHCz9lXI/AAAAAAAAADU/tC5nWaDhpMw/s1600-h/DSC_0234.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 168px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SX8gHCz9lXI/AAAAAAAAADU/tC5nWaDhpMw/s200/DSC_0234.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295986992196982130" border="0" /></a><br />This type of helmet is most often styled by Cambodian macho men, astronauts, Darth Vader or, in my case, the incredibly safety conscious. With a drop down visor and chin coverage, this baby may make me look like a bobble head doll but at least I feel safe...ish.<br /><br /><br />Number of Space Crowns: 1<br />Days until Nathan arrives: 8Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-90043196185158990082008-12-31T02:13:00.001-08:002009-01-28T21:10:52.976-08:00Sue Sadi Chnum Timy!Happy New Year to you in Khmer! What a mind boggling year it has been. Graduation, moving from Montana to Alaska to Cambodia (with Idaho and Chicago in between, coming to work with LWF Cambodia. I think a little part of me is still reeling from all the change. 2008 was a difficult, exciting and humbling year for me. I feel much older now but at the same time keenly aware of how young I am in many regards. <br /><br />Through all the changes and new experiences of the past year, there were wonderful people to help me grapple with it all. To avoid turning this into the “Oscar acceptance speech” blog post, I won’t name everyone. Still, I am so thankful to everyone who made life great and taught me new things and since this is the time of year for lists, here are few of my lessons learned in 08. <br /><br />Firefly Catching: thanks to Carolyn and other orientation friends for teaching me to capture this fascinating bugs for the first time<br /><br />Bear Dodging at Sarah Palin’s: warning the Governor’s house in Juneau attracts furry friends, check around the corner before proceeding in front of the house, going around back should be sufficient to avoid any bears<br /><br />How Not to Whale Watch: not in a small, aluminum boat while distracted on the phone so you scream when the whale spouts a few feet from the bow (much gratitude to Nathan the extreme fisherman for bearing with me) <br /><br />Khmer Dancing: the shuffle steps and “lotus” blossom hand gestures were tricky at first for someone more accustom to hip-hop and rock n’ roll but with the right teachers (i.e. my colleagues) dancing in Cambodia is hilarious fun<br /><br />Niyee Pisa Khmai (Speaking Khmer): Ok, so I haven’t learned how to speak Khmer super well, but I can get around and I’ve learned more about a foreign language in a month and half of lessons than two trimesters of Spanish taught me<br /><br />Cooking in Cambodia: despite missteps like oily French Toast, salty oatmeal and spicy cookies, I am getting closer to mastering a basic stir fry and being able to feed myself, fist pound to Carrie for her guidance and willingness to eat my mistakes<br /><br />So that about wraps up a sampling of what this year taught me. Above all those things though, I have found that people who will love you and support you, no matter how far you are apart or what you are doing, are invaluable. And I am blessed with many of those people. <br /><br />As my coworker Sokny reminded me, “I think you are lucky to have so many friends here.”Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-11997546303221895792008-12-10T22:59:00.000-08:002008-12-10T23:59:04.415-08:00Ommmmm Bak tick a ta ba do baTitle song reference number two, any guesses?<br />Aside from the lyrics to a '90s song, the title of this entry also contains the Khmer words for uncooked rice: om bak (those of you who speak Khmer can debate my spelling of the word if you pronounce it differently). Om bak is also the name for a popular snack available around harvest time. It is made in a three step process and tastes best right after you make it. While in Kampong Chhang province two weeks ago, I got to help make om bak - much to my delight and the entertainment of the ladies who showed me. Here's what I learned about making om bak:<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278426126842088594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SUC8mJeQTJI/AAAAAAAAAC0/zGDRqh1ALug/s320/DSC04420.JPG" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Step One:</strong> Put a cup or more of unhusked, raw dry rice into a pot. Heat the pot over a fire. Don't add anything to the rice. The rice will start popping and crackling. Cook until all/most of the rice has popped.</span><br /><br /><p> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278428033002439346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SUC-VGeTArI/AAAAAAAAAC8/3tg_TfBD9Eo/s320/DSC04432.JPG" border="0" /> <span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Step Two:</strong> Pour the freshly cooked rive into a giant mortar and immediately begin pounding it with a giant, wooden stick. This step works best with three people, two pounding and one using a thin, pointed stick to stir up the rice between poundings. At this step, it is also good to invite a foreigner to join in and laugh as she - not realizing how heavy it is - struggles to lift the big stick. Be warned, the om bak won't be crushed very fast this way if the your foreign guest is weak.</span></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278431675996343186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SUDBpJrui5I/AAAAAAAAADE/_KbWMlYA7fY/s320/DSC04451.JPG" border="0" /><strong> </strong><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Step Three</strong>: After the rice has been sufficiently flattened, put it on a large, flat basket. To remove the bits of husk, gently toss the rice by flopping the basket towards you with gentle motions. Though this sounds simple, it can be difficult for first timers to accomplish without losing the good bits too.</span><br /><p>After completing all three step, you'll have a snack that is delightfully crunchy and chewy. Enjoy with caution, according to Ratna one handful of om bak equals one plate of cooked rice. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278436694344521330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 144px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SUDGNQfK1nI/AAAAAAAAADM/3TCZHXTEP4Q/s200/om+bok.jpg" border="0" /></p>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-51763737571139741392008-11-30T18:39:00.000-08:002008-11-30T19:14:48.503-08:00Call to what?On Friday morning, soon after I hit the snooze and declined to go running with Carrie, I heard a sound very similar to the call to prayer. In my half sleep I thought, <em>that's nice</em>. Then I remembered there are no mosques in my neighborhood. In fact, I have only seen mosques near the river on the outskirts of town. By then the music was louder and closer than before.<br /><br />About this time I was feeling not so happy about the music (it was 5:45) and then I remembered the pink and yellow tent set up just a few houses down from us. Oh no, it's a wedding.<br /><br />Since the cool season started (temperatures are in the mid 70s to low 80s) so have the weddings. They start out early in the morning at the bride's house and part of any wedding in Cambodia is some really loud music. The tents sometimes cause traffic chaos and the music is sure to be heard round the block. The music in question is a hybrid of singing/chanting reminiscent of the call to prayer and someone rocking out on a xylophone. <br /><br />My slight bitterness towards the music was mitigated when I left for work just in time to see the wedding procession shuffling along to the tunes. The groom led the way with a giant floral arrangement spilling over his arms, while the guests followed him in pairs looking as if they were about to board Noah's ark bearing gifts. Each person carried a silver tray with some food item wrapped in cellophane and ribbon. Fruit and vegetables all passed by. One man even balanced a fresh leg and haunch of pork on his tray. Two young men jumped off their motos just in time to hop on the end of the line clutching trays with small pyramids of Tiger Beer.<br /><br />Moral of the story: So what if the music is loud, wedding season only comes once a year.<br /><br />P.S.<br />I am bad and have no pictures of this event either so here is the link to a friend's blog if you are wondering, <em>Just what do those pink tents look like?</em><br /><a href="http://fatherseyes86.blogspot.com/2008/11/of-wedding-tents-and-funeral-music.html">http://fatherseyes86.blogspot.com/2008/11/of-wedding-tents-and-funeral-music.html</a>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-60912597550089541012008-11-25T22:15:00.000-08:002010-03-07T21:33:01.921-08:00I ate a cricket and I liked itHehehe, sorry I couldn't resist the title. You will probably only understand the song reference if you are under 30 and living in the US. To all others, I apologize.<br /><br />Last week was four days for province visits with the communications team. On Thursday, Ratna and I visited a brick making group in the evening. After an interview, we watched them make bricks using concrete, sand and one mold. Obviously, having only one mold means it takes a bit of time to make a couple bricks in the yard.<br /><br />While we watched the men scoop the sand mix into the mold, one of the LWF project staff walked over from the house carrying a bowl. Something in me knew this bowl was not the usual fruit or ambok (more on ambok to come). Sure enough, the bowl was filled with crickets but not the little kind. No, these were the crickets as long as my little finger. She held out the bowl to me. I smiled (as I often do here) and took one.<br /><br />For a moment, I am sure my expression was 100% culturally insensitive as I looked into the crickets little black eyes and he looked back at me. A little shiver of panic in my brain said, "Ahhh! Crickets are not for eating." Luckily, that tiny spasm was overcome by a voice saying, "Stop being rude and eat it you pansy!" And into my mouth went the cricket.<br /><br />Now while I won't say I loved the cricket, it was actually good. Like salty, extra crunchy and sometimes chewy sunflower seeds. At first it was weird to feel the shape of the bug but once you start chewing, it is not bad at all. I even at a few more and Ratna took a picture of me eating one. I am not sure if eating a cricket means I am ready for one of the giant fried spiders here but I am one step closer to giving it a try. <br /><br />Number of Provinces Visited: 5<br />Number of Crickets Eaten: 5Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-23818463289925980912008-11-17T01:40:00.000-08:002008-11-17T02:04:34.499-08:00A series of fortunate unfortunate eventsOver the past two months, I have had the wonderful chance to visit four of LWF Cambodia's projects in the provinces. This where the majority of LWF's work happens, in the rural areas of the country.<br /><br /><div align="justify">I will post some fast facts about Cambodia when I have more time. For now, I would like to share about a particularly special trip. In the first week of November, Ratna (my bos<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SSE9s6ZOhFI/AAAAAAAAACA/000jS61BDtw/s1600-h/DSC_0003.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269560880798794834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SSE9s6ZOhFI/AAAAAAAAACA/000jS61BDtw/s200/DSC_0003.JPG" border="0" /></a>s) and I headed to Battambang province four and half hours away from Phnom Penh. It was the tail end of the rainy season. While areas of Phnom Penh have been submerged by nasty water and floods, I have been lucky enough to escape most the season's harsher effects (minus a large leak in my roof that floods my closet). The rain has dramatic effects in the provinces as well. Pothole, bump roads become muddy, jarring slip and slides. As evidenced by this picture. Despite the best efforts, our car went off the road twice. Fortunately, people were quick to jump into the mud behind the Jeep and push.</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><br />After our off road adventures, I assumed we wouldn't be doing any more mucking around. However, our first planned activity was accompanying a community forestry group as they marched to their forest to check its boundaries and monitor illegal encroachments. The march was ten miles total, half through knee-deep waters in flooded rice fields. I had to admire the dedication of the group as we wade through the fields and forded chest-deep rivers. (Note: The villagers and LWF staff told me this is an unusual activity for the rainy season so please don't get the idea that people in the country side here love to run around in flooded rice fields.)<br /><br />So here we are, me in my poncho from Vietnam, clutching my camera and following along. Thankfully, the Community <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SSE_zKGr3iI/AAAAAAAAACI/Q6db7kX06-w/s1600-h/DSC03679.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269563187118464546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 147px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SSE_zKGr3iI/AAAAAAAAACI/Q6db7kX06-w/s320/DSC03679.JPG" border="0" /></a>Empowerment Officers lead me along when the water was too deep and carried my camera across the river for me. The experience was unpredictable and amazing.Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-65701976459245345742008-10-22T19:59:00.000-07:002008-10-22T21:35:17.137-07:00On Sihanouk's shores<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SP_6DXl0yiI/AAAAAAAAABw/k2JA7_-TNBw/s1600-h/DSC_0237.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260197825571244578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SP_6DXl0yiI/AAAAAAAAABw/k2JA7_-TNBw/s400/DSC_0237.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify">This post is long overdue (as the staff workshop actually happened in the second week of October). But hey, to be cliche, better late than never.<br /><br />Every LWF Cambodia staff rounds up for a workshop to discuss plans for the next year, spend time together and recognize the achievements of the organization. This year, about 260 people attended the workshop, including me. The workshop was held in Sihanoukville, Cambodia's largest beach town. Though the water probably wasn't the best for swimming, the sky was incredible.<br /><br />I am the only volunteer with LWF Cambodia and was the only new foreign face<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SP_4mKg_naI/AAAAAAAAABo/NrARrKdZI4U/s1600-h/DSC03249.JPG"></a> a<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SP_8txz0MiI/AAAAAAAAAB4/yaEes_fp6h0/s1600-h/DSC03249.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260200753187009058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 209px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 131px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SP_8txz0MiI/AAAAAAAAAB4/yaEes_fp6h0/s320/DSC03249.JPG" border="0" /></a>t the retreat. I am amazed by how large the staff is! Though I felt like a bit of an odd duck at first, my Phnom Penh coworkers and some new friends were quick to include me in the fun and games of the retreat. I learned that volleyball is a pretty big deal at the retreat. Teams from the project sites and the main office faced off in the prickly grass despite the afternoon heat. Unfortunately, the Phnom Penh office was defeated in the first round again this year.<br /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">The highlight of the retreat was definetly the dancing at the end. Though my traditional Khmer dancing skills are non-existant, my collegues were wonderfully willing to coach me along. I will never master the bendy-hand dance move so popular here but I think I can shuffle along decently to the steps :)</div><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-43682671499787775632008-10-12T01:41:00.000-07:002008-11-26T17:04:36.272-08:00Vietnam<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SPG5YXpDpJI/AAAAAAAAABQ/lJqEWSH-STU/s1600-h/DSC_0095.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256186068432299154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SPG5YXpDpJI/AAAAAAAAABQ/lJqEWSH-STU/s320/DSC_0095.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SPG5LTuUjEI/AAAAAAAAABI/FZui0AtxxLI/s1600-h/DSC_0013.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256185844042337346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SPG5LTuUjEI/AAAAAAAAABI/FZui0AtxxLI/s320/DSC_0013.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SPG4oLss6dI/AAAAAAAAAA4/oQ8snjQMTg0/s1600-h/Desktop+Moutnains.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256185240592640466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-gu5w4MMIig/SPG4oLss6dI/AAAAAAAAAA4/oQ8snjQMTg0/s320/Desktop+Moutnains.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">Hanoi, Ha Long Bay and Sapa all in nine days! Crazy travel but a lot of fun. Here are some photos of a wonderful trip with old and new friends. </div>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-6798326651147720582008-09-24T22:10:00.000-07:002010-03-07T21:31:38.735-08:00The chirper in the wallIn this sometimes bewildering environment, I appreciate the small successes more and more. I am thankful for the tiny kindnesses and interactions that make Cambodia beautiful. Even odd and mildly annoying surprises increase my affection for this place.<br /><br />One such quirky event took place last night in my apartment. When Carrie and I sit in the living room and chat in the evening, a squeaking noise from the wall punctuates our conversation. The noise is not quite a gecko chirp but not exactly a bird twirp. Dubbed, "the chirper in the wall," the rustling, talkative creature seemed to be voicing its opinion. I thought it was a bat, Carrie guessed a mouse or bird.<br /><br />So last night, Carrie was making delicious soup and Mel came over for dinner. As I grabbed my keys to unlock the orange gate for her, I looked back toward the kitchen and saw something dart in through the open window (we don't have screens). It was a mouse with the longest tail I have ever seen! It scurried over to the kitchen and helped itself to the water in one of our ant traps (plastic bowls of water under the legs of the cabinet to keep ants out of food).<br /><br />I gasped and pointed out the bold invader to Carrie, who sighed and reached for a broom. After letting Mel in and warning her of the drama in the kitchen, I picked up my camera to record the saga. Carrie, broom in one hand, large green bowl in the other, was trying to coax the mouse out from behind the cabinet where it had hidden. However, Carrie's efforts were only amounting to her petting the mouse with the broom. I began snapping away until Carrie, flustered by the clever mouse, pled, "This is not a documentary!" and handed me the broom. By then the alleged chirper lay rather floppily on the floor, perhaps playing dead or perhaps crippled by the broom.<br /><br />With broom and feather duster, we scooped the mouse into the bowl. Carrie bravely carried the mouse to the back deck and unceremoniously dumped it into the concrete backyard. We all felt a little sorry for the chirper, who may have become perished in the fall or scampered away to drink from our ant traps another day. However, the chirping in the wall continues. Perhaps the chirper left a family behind or perhaps it is another pest entirely.<br /><br />I realize this rather long story may not exactly be inspirational to readers. But in some weird way, it reminds me of adventures to be had. When I think about the adventure of living in Cambodia, this Mark Twain quote comes to mind.<br /><br />"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”<br /><br />I doubt Mark Twain had catching mice along with the trade winds in mind. But I think it is a reminder that despite the possibilities of pain and loss, taking the risk rewards us in the end. Even in little ways, like the comical chatter or the chirper in the wall.Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-81326268961455296672008-09-12T01:09:00.000-07:002010-03-07T21:30:45.413-08:00Greetings from a skyscraper less cityToday, if all goes well, I move out of the Golden Gate Hotel and into my home in Phnom Penh. Hopefully, but doubtful, the rain will be merciful and light while I move.<br /><br />I know the observations (and generalizations) I will make have been made by many before me. Though my impressions may be unoriginal, I remember all the people I met in churches who said they wished they could see it here and wanted to know what it’s like, what people eat, how they travel. So I will share what I see, recognizing that my view is tinted by my biases, upbringing, education and countless other factors. This is my disclaimer.<br /><br /> OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO<br /><br />Phnom Penh is a world apart from my fuzzy memories of my visit three years ago. The streets are choked with glossy new cars wearing large stickers proclaiming, “Land Cruiser” or “Lexus” lumbering along side motorbikes and tuk tusk. Huge mansions sit behind high walls and coils of razor wire. A handful of supermarkets and western style grocery stores have sprung up, though only the rich and the expat can afford to frequent them. A new gym opens up near Independence Monument and charges over a hundred dollars a month. A skyscraper less city will soon be home to “Golden Tower 42,” a high rise boasting a mall, pool, gym and apartments built by a Korean firm. <br /><br />Amongst all the building and money, many struggle. Inflation and low wages has driven thousands women to seek jobs outside the garment industry. Street children run together in the rain without shoes, pulling their paper thin shirts over their heads, exposing paper thin bodies. A development firm purchased Boeung Kak, the largest lake in Phnom Penh, and is filling it with sand, driving hundreds of people from their homes and livelihoods. Profit and investment have not flowed equal in the city or out into the country side.<br /><br />This is what I observe from the surface of the city, from the newspapers and the sights. For now I can only imagine the hundreds of stories, influences and players beneath it.<br /><br /> OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO<br /><br />As I mentioned before, I am in a period of constant readjustment. After ten days in the “safety” of an air conditioned, internet and cable supplied hotel, it is time to really move to Phnom Penh. My new home is at traditional wooden house located in a Khmer neighborhood. Carrie, my fabulous roommate, is a Mennonite volunteer handicraft designer and business advisor who has lived in Phnom Penh for a year. Carrie is my favorite part of this new living arrangement, followed by the lovely apartment itself and the two fluffy, wiggling puppies of the landlords. The hole in the ceiling and the lack of screens in the windows are less than exciting, but as my new friend Chris assured me today, there isn’t a house here without something quirky to it.<br /><br />The first week here was the hardest of my life for sure. However, the Lutheran World Federation Office here is full of wonderful people I look forward to knowing better as the year progresses. The world of the expatriate is alien and amazing to this woman from Idaho Falls. I am endlessly grateful for all the support and advice I have been blessed with from family, friends and strangers. Until next time, you are all in my heart and prayers.Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4240238541105815780.post-13178461195007811442008-08-27T23:02:00.000-07:002010-03-07T21:28:55.783-08:00First ThoughtsSo here goes my first blog post (with a sentence I am sure has started off thousands of other blogs). <br /><p>i carry your heart with me(i carry it in<br />my heart)i am never without it(anywhere<br />i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done<br />by only me is your doing,my darling)<br />i fear<br />no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want<br />no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)<br />and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant<br />and whatever a sun will always sing is you<br /><br />here is the deepest secret nobody knows<br />(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud<br />and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows<br />higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)<br />and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart<br /><br />i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)</p> <p><b>ee cummings</b></p>Rachel Cookhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12398263638784549030noreply@blogger.com0