the mountain of gems

It’s finally time to say good-bye to Ratanakiri, to Banlung, to the UWS house and to everything that has been my home for the last five months. Waves of nostalgia wash over me as I go through last times and good-byes.

It’s been a heavy last few weeks. We had to do creative arts teacher training with the teachers from all our schools. Gilly gave the four of us responsibility for a workshop each - Music, Drawing, Modeling and Drama. I did music and got very over excited and over complicated the whole thing and so ended up getting through about half of what I had planned. But it was a lot of fun, and I think the teachers really enjoyed it. By the end, I managed to get three groups of teachers all to perform a Cambodian pop song with home made instruments and singing, which was enough to make me smiling and satisfied.

making paper instruments

pop singing

Vera's drawing workshop - proportion

sport

We also went to Jong for two nights, the four girls, Gilly and Sitha. Jong is the village furthest away from Banlung and the school has had lots of problems with attendace. Nevertheless, the children showed up, not only from 7-11am two days in a row, but also in the afternoon as well. Gilly took charge and the rest of us followed her. We played lots of sport and did drawing with the kids based around a story that we brought with us. We also took out loads of logic games, which Ingvill and I taught the kids how to use, and which they were completely enthralled by. In the afternoon we made cat puppets. Sitha read the children the story, and then Gilly asked if anyone wanted to make a puppet. Only two children said yes. However, by the end of the two hour session, every child bar one boy had made a puppet and they all took them home happily. There was a lovely moment when one of the fathers showed up to watch and asked if he could make a cat too. It’s one thing to know that before UWS these villages had no education, but another to see the joy with which this father took part in the lesson, having never had such an opportunity before. Then, when we had taken a photo of all the kids with their puppets and sent them home, the one boy who had refused to make one stayed behind looking tearful and asked to make one too, so we sat down and went through the steps with him and his face lit up slowly, until he skipped off to the village clutching his creation. The whole trip made me realise that what Gilly expected of us was no more than what we had been already doing in the schools before. I can’t help thinking though, that it would have been nice to know what was expected of us before we started, not at the end! All in all, the trip, what with sleeping under the stars and watching the sunset to the soundtrack of Sitha’s guitar, and washing by the well with the village women, was a wonderful final team project.

Sitha telling the story

Helping the littlest with his pupper

the father joining in

all the cats

We had evaluations with Chris yesterday and I seems as though the four of us all had very similar points to make. We all said that time in the villages should be shorter, that there should be more teaching time and that there needed to be more serious thought put into the project’s structure in general, among other smaller points. I don’t know whether any of our points were taken on board, or how much will have changed when new people come from Atlantic College in September, but the information is there, whether it is used or not. As far as I’m concerned, we made the most of what we had; being Guinea pigs for the project was bound to have both upsides and downsides and more than anything it would have helped to have had more planning in place before we got there. But there was no way of knowing whether what we did would work until we did it. And what we did was, I think, good for the kids, even if it’s had no lasting impact on the schools’ futures.

So it’s good bye to Banlung, and on to Phnom Penh at 6am in the morning. Leaving behind the town that, as Vera said when we first arrived, is like an abandoned house that people are lovingly squatting in. I will miss feeling at home here and I will miss the lake and the friendly people and the schools and the red Ratanakiri dust. But it’s on to the last month of my trip, I can’t have come all this way without seeing more of Cambodia than just this little, littered, red, jungled corner.

in the market

banlung and the red dust

UWS house