too much hairspray

Two weeks in the new village, Tackok Charai. It’s like a whole other world compared to Rock. Driven straight to the door of the school, we were dropped off and left within minutes, to fend for ourselves. Sitha’s brother, our translator, let us into the ghost of a classroom that was our new home. It was dark and the windows were jammed from having been closed for so long. There were tables pushed up against the walls and planks of wood everywhere and a thick layer of termite-residue wood-chippings and dust all over every surface. So Vera and I sent the teacher to the village to find two brushes and arranged the tables and swept everywhere. Then we were shown around the village. Unlike Rock, which was spread out along one long “road”, Tackok Charai is nuclear. Immediately after crossing the bridge into the village, you are surrounded by houses, with fires around them and pigs and chickens and geese pottering in between the stilts. There is a community hall where the school teachers sleep and as we passed, a group of children were sat under a tree, holding the front paws of a puppy and a kitten, and forcing them to fight each other. We met the chief, an old man who welcomed us very kindly and who looked like the wise turtle in Kung Fu Panda.

We were all ready to start from scratch, having the children avoid us for the first few weeks before realizing that just because we’re white, that doesn’t mean we’re dangerous. But these kids are completely different to those in Rock. Maybe because the school is older, so the kids are more used to seeing Western people. The throw themselves into everything we do with them. On the first day we played a copying game, getting them to chant funny noises and do silly actions and they have asked us to do it with them every day since. Their confidence, however is sometimes not so great, because it means they spend every afternoon, until it gets dark, around the school, the younger ones playing ball or drawing while we read and the older boys playing volleyball. Though it’s nice that they want to be there, the constant company gets a little wearing.

We wrote a story for the children, of a prince who goes in search of the perfect girl, (we actually stole it from AC camp, where it was told to our first-years before we sent them to bed) and had it translated and then asked them to illustrate it. The younger kids all drew houses and castles, so we had to forbid the older ones from drawing either of those. Still, we managed to compile a proper, bound, story book that we have given to the teacher to read to the children.

Last week, we were joined in the village by two guys working for another NGO who were looking to put proper water piping and sanitation in the villages. They were great company and entertained us with badminton and cards. One was from Sri Lanka, so we learnt all about the civil war there, while the other was Khmer and so kept bringing us new food to try from the villagers. It was just nice to have some english speaking company.


We went to Sitha’s sister’s wedding. We all got traditional Khmer costumes made especially and it was an experience to say the least. Weddings in Cambodia last for two days and we were invited to the second day. It began at 6am, in a rented house, empty except for the main room, which was full to bursting with golden bowls of fruit, meat, beer and whiskey, and wreaths of flowers. From there, the fruit was then carried by the guests, two by two, to the house of the bride, with the groom at the head of the procession. Then the bride came out of the house to greet him, wearing matching orange, and covered in bangles and necklaces and sporting the biggest tiara I have ever seen, and we watch the groom start in happy amazement at at beautiful she looked. They were then taken to change costumes, which they did five times over the course of the day, each time a different colour, always matching, ending up, by the end of the evening, both in white. Then we ate breakfast and watch some more ceremonies, all including the bride, the groom, and/or their parents. In between serious ceremonies, were a man and woman who sang and told jokes, making fun of the bride and groom and their families and attendants. One ceremony required the parents of the couple to roll tobacco in banana leaves. Another had every other couple in the room, including Iain and Bella, and Sitha and his wife, to go and stand behind the bride and groom and pretend to cut and comb their hair. We then left just before lunch, in time to get our hair and make-up done for the evening party. There, I couldn't stop smiling. The food was incredible, and after we had eaten, the bride and groom entered for the first dance, watched by well over 500 people. Then Sitha came over and handed us each one of his Khmer friends to dance with, and we didn’t stop dancing until we left. The highlight of the day was seeing Sitha, with his youngest girl in arm, climbing onto the stage with a mic and singing, with perfection. I also found out that the wedding had been arranged, in a “we’re your parents and we like his parents, so what about it”  kind of way. But they had been school mates for years and seemed perfectly happy, if not a little exhausted by the event.

traditional Khmer costume

three months down the line: how you're REALLY meant to ride in the back of a 4x4

proper food

Enter bride and groom

EVERYONE THROW THINGS AT THEM!!

Feeding each other fruit

Khmer dancing

Two new girls have come to join the project for a few weeks, one who is my first year from AC. The other three girls have all left on various christmas travels, but I am staying here for christmas with Gilly, Bella and Iain. We’ll see how that goes, I’m sure it will include a lot of funny anecdotes. Xanthe, my AC first year, and I went to the water falls today. We walked to the market and got a moot for the trip. Our driver was Lim, he spoke no english, but was very pleased to take photos as we swam and giggled like a little girl when Xanthe took a photo of him. It’s been good to talk to someone from AC, and have a bit of time out of the villages. Bring on Christmas.

Kachanh Waterfall

Lim, the moto driver

first time in three months that I've shivered from the cold