Twenty Six

back in the olden day of 1997, sketchers and overalls were in style.

i, in my seventh grade glory, did not own any overalls.  this was nearly purely out of choice, though, as i (quite rightly, looking back on pictures now) refused to purchase or wear those abominations of jeans and buckles.

the same thing was repeated with capri pants.  except i eventually gave in and bought some of those.

they're pretty comfortable, you know.

and so.  remember a few years ago, when "twenty five things about yourself" was all the rage on the fbook?

i'm sure it surprises you to no end (no end at all, in fact, if you know me at all) that i refused to join in.

but then. OH but then.  then i attended a week long conference in phnom penh covering many a topics that i feel somewhat very acquainted with, and thusly, for my sanity, i did then let my mind wander.

you know how these things are.  

and therefore, wander my mind did, until it created this here little list about birthdays and memories and happy things.  

twenty six memories, to be exact, all of which would be improved if i had with me one little blue photo album full of pictures from the past.  so, do please visit this here post again in two years, after i've been able to scan and upload said pictures. you know, just wait for october 2013. no bigs.

hokay, so. without further ado.

ONE

once upon a time, i was a bad ass little three year old. i loved winnie the pooh and tigger too. well, mainly tigger.  (i found pooh a bit slow.)  so, my bad ass mother bought me (made me?!) a delicious, chocolate tigger-bouncing-on-his-tail cake.  all for me.

TWO

at same said birthday, still being the bad ass i am, i got one of the best birthday gifts ever.  a plastic fisher price cassette player that included a MICROPHONE. i know.  i used that baby all through my primary school years, singing along to "colors of the wind" and "i just can't wait to be king."  sadly though, those videos will never surface because a) my parent's didn't own a video camera when i was a kid and b) i'll never be featured on "behind the music."

THREE

continuing in the theme of how awesome i was as a young girl, i can vividly recall having a large number of playmates over for my fifth birthday. i wore a frilly pink dress, and i spent the majority of the party stealing m&ms from my own m&m themed birthday table.

and yes, it did take me an additional twenty years to bring this story up to my mother, who kindly informed me that i wasn't stealing, as it was my birthday party and they were on the table for me.

also, they knew i was taking them.

FOUR

things you should know about me include the very simple fact that in my family, birthdays are a big. friggin. deal.  all people get at least one week, thus, their birthday week, and an entire day, if not weekend, devoted to just things they want.  birthdays are time to eat what you want and do what you want (as long as your room is clean, of course.) 

FIVE

in the same vein, in my family, you get two special birthday dinners for your birthday. one home made and one at the restaurant of your choice.  my home made meal was always pigs in a blanket. (so classy!)

SIX

people like to surprise me for my birthday. i really like this.  my first ever surprise birthday happened when i was seven (or eight?) when my mom and brother showed up to the halloween celebration at my day care (happening, of course, on my birthday, october 30) with a pinata and cake!  my nearly-teen brother took great care to look quite pained to have to be entertaining such young kids, but somehow didn't look so sad when he got to eat cake and laugh at us while he controlled the pinata.

SEVEN

continuing with the surprise theme, i got my second surprise party when i turned fourteen.  i had just finished performing at a veteran's day celebration with my drill/dance team (i was just that cool in junior high, didn't you know?) when my bestest friends were waiting for me at my house, having led me quite down the wrong path.  they had each told me they couldn't do anything that night and i was feeling quite low- until they led me on a scavenger hunt for my birthday gifts in my own house and gave me perhaps the best birthday of my teen years.  

EIGHT

my most recent surprise came when i turned 22.  my first year of teaching, topher took me out around baltimore for the day, only for me to return to a surprise with my favorite baltimore people and lots of fun.  i may have also bic-shaved topher's head. after a surprising number of glasses of wine, i'll add.

NINE

so, clearly, my birthday is the day before halloween.  there is nothing better than sharing your birthday with candy. and dressing up.  one of the best parts of my childhood was my birthday, because so many years involved celebrating my birthday while trick or treating with my friends.

it was awesome.

TEN

every year on my birthday, my mother would wake me up at six twelve am, when i was born, with hot chocolate.  we'd spend the first few minutes of my new year cuddled up together on my bed, enjoying the dark, cold, idaho air and some delicious warm drinks.

ELEVEN

i am not much of a cake girl. i love to bake it, but come my birthday, i'd rather have ice cream.  if you're going to give me cake, make it butter yellow with chocolate icing. nothing better.  or, give me a really good cheesecake.  for many years, my mom would make my favorite cheesecake and serve it up for my friends and i each year.

TWELVE

i celebrated my sixteenth birthday in two distinct ways.  i woke up on my sixteenth birthday, at six twelve am as always, to my same cup of hot chocolate and one new addition.  a baseball tee with a giant 16 on the front.  a new tee shirt, courtesy of cindy, just for me to wear on my sixteenth birthday.  wear it i did, for just long enough to get a picture snapped.

THIRTEEN

for my sixteenth, my mother also set up an evening for my friends and i at a local theater doing a "haunted dinner" type show.  it was pretty fantastic.  kind of the best way to celebrate your sweet sixteen. 

FOURTEEN

going back to the surprise theme, i turned eighteen freshman year of college.  one of my roommates had just broken her leg and i was expecting a simple dinner out with friends. little did i know my mom had sent some money and instructions to my friends to make my birthday - my first away from home -  as awesome as possible.  and awesome it was- involving a surprise pinata in our dorm floor's lounge full of candy and UNDERWEAR. plus cheesecake.

i know.

FIFTEEN

i spent my fifteenth birthday surrounded by my bestest high school friends.  just some coca-cola, fresh snow, and cheesecake. what's better?

SIXTEEN

let's talk for a second about a birthday memory with the adorable girl in the foreground of the above picture, in green. katie.  my oldest friend.  i still remember the very first birthday of hers i attended.  we made our own jewelry with clay, and her mom- my second mother- still loves to remind me that i was such an overwhelming ball of energy at ten that she questioned her sanity in having me over again.  eep.

SEVENTEEN

remember how i said that birthdays are a huge deal for me and my family?  the same is not exactly true of chris.  they're important, mind you, just not THE BIG FRIGGIN DEAL like they are in mine. 

EIGHTEEN

the above statement, though, has not diminished the importance topher has placed on birthdays since we met.  for our first together, he surprised me with tickets to a great play at the kennedy center and dinner on the amazing rooftop restaurant at the center.  we don't have a picture, but it probably looked something like this when we were dressed up:

NINETEEN

i turned twenty while we studied abroad, and topher flew from beijing to rome to spend the week (you know, the birthday week) with me. 

TWENTY

very few exciting things happened when i turned twenty one.  i believe this to be because by the time i turned twenty one, everyone had been there for quite a while.  

it was kinda sad.

TWENTY ONE

however. my uncle did gift me the most beautiful opal (my birth stone) and diamond gold ring for my birthday. thank you godfather uncle.

TWENTY TWO

on that note, though, we did celebrate topher's 21st in style.  involving beer pong, and a drink for every year he had been alive.

this one photo is enough to tell you how that day went. suffice it to say, it was good fun.

TWENTY THREE

we celebrated my twenty third birthday by eating dinner with friends at an amazing italian restaurant (wherein i found out that one of my bestest friends was returning to the DC area!) and then having said friends stay at our house.  we proceeded to stay up quite late, drinking and generally having fun.  which wouldn't have been a problem if it hadn't been for these gems taking place the next morning, bright and early:

still, engagement photos are a pretty amazing birthday memory.

TWENTY FOUR

for my twenty-fourth birthday, topher surprised me with a night at an amazing resort/hotel in a nearby coastal town.  he had such connections that we even got our personal arrival gift to celebrate my birthday:

TWENTY FIVE

what's better than a winery tour with an amazing friend?

TWENTY SIX

i'm reserving this space for the memory that is sure to come this saturday as i celebrate with my unparalleled new friends in the capital of my new home.

also, i had written "best birthday presents" for this number, and i decided that's just narcissistic of me.

as if a list of twenty six of my own birthday memories isn't.

i'm still hitting publish.

cheers to friday and to birthdays around the world!

On Being Closer to 30, Part 1

The other day, I was wasting time on my computer, browsing some old photos. Chris saw said old photos over my shoulder- photos from five years ago, when I first got my very first incarnation of the macbook and discovered the joy that is photobooth.

His comment? "Wow, you look so young!"

Which had me wondering if I really, you know, do I REALLY look all that older, five years later?

Do I? 

Shockingly, yes.

Dammit.

Which I discovered in vain, looking upon attempted photo after attempted photo on my now five-year-old (that's nearly 30 in computer years, you know) macbook. You know, I did try to recreate above photos, JUST for research purposes, of course.

You're welcome, of course.  What a face, I know.

Because, dammit again, come Sunday I'm going to be closer to 30 than 20.  I'll have jumped the hump to my nearly-late-twenties. I'll be six and twenty years aged.

My lord.

And to top it off, I found two grey hairs today. TWO. What the hell is happening to my world?

time to think

Overall, it’s been a fulfilling and rewarding (albeit challenging) three months thus far.

(You know, there are very few things more rewarding then feeling the sweet drip of warm sweat down your back…when you wake up…while you eat…while you shower.)

I kid, I kid.

As we’ve settled in to our permanent home, there has been a good deal of time given over to thinking.

Lots of time to hang laundry inside when it rains.

Thinking about why two usually sane mid-twenties newlyweds would choose to uproot their lives and do something as completely crazy as move double-digit-thousands of miles away from our home, dog-child, families and great jobs. 

Thinking about how much we’re missing being here.

When we got married, Topher and I were among the first of our friends to get married. We did have a few friends who were recently married, on the same trajectory as us- you know, get married, find a happy place to settle for a while, get a dog, think about “when” for kids.

Now, here we are, nearly two years later, and with ample thinking time has come the small worries.

Just how much are we missing? 

This hit home when one of my best friends from college (who, funnily enough, caught the bouquet at my wedding) did get engaged a few weeks ago.  I’ve been internally excited about this happening, and before we left, I told Chris that I’d be so sad if we missed this specific person’s engagement and wedding.

And now we will.

And when a brain goes down this path, you can’t help but think of all the others things we’re missing.

Another pair of married friends just had their first child.  We didn’t get to take them over a lasagna to welcome the little fella, and we’ll never get to join them at some fast food joint with the little guy wrapped tightly to stave off any crying.  Hell, by the time we get back, we’ll be able to go to a real restaurant with these awesome people and their son because he’ll be old enough to entertain himself in a public place by that time.

Le sigh.

Beyond the real moments that we’re already missing, there are the silly ones that don’t seem to matter until you don’t have the option of actually having them.

Like a five year college reunion.

Who really WANTS to go that?  Honestly? Beyond the chance of good finger goods and free wine, does anyone actually lament the missing of a school reunion?

Good lord. I need help. And how!

And baby goats. Always good.

And then there’s a last, lingering fear that I don’t want to put into words, but I will, dang it.  I had an amazing job with amazing people before we up and decided to move out of the country.  At my lowest, saddest moments, I can’t help but wonder: am I setting myself back, career wise, by being here?  My co-workers that I love so much will have two additional years at our amazing organization under their belts when I come back.  And I won’t.

I don’t regret being here. I don’t regret renting our house, having my parents adopt our dog for two years, leaving behind a job I enjoyed immensely.

I don’t regret, for one second, being a Peace Corps Volunteer.

Sometimes I have to remind myself of that.  I know you’re maybe not supposed to say that out loud, but I don’t give a sack of hoots. Sometimes, three months in, when I’m still figuring all of this out and am constantly reminded of all that I am missing, I have to step back and remember: I do not regret joining the Peace Corps, moving to Cambodia, and becoming a Teacher Trainer Volunteer.  I do not regret living with my amazing husband, meeting amazing people, both Khmer and American, and beginning to acquire a small understanding of this amazing new culture and way of life.

I do lament all the things I am missing and will miss.  I lament missing a wedding I’ve been looking forward to for a long time. I lament missing the early years of our friends’ babies.  I lament all the things I don’t know that I’ll miss, that I inevitably will.

But I also know how much more regret I’d be left with if I weren’t here, on this adventure, gaining all that I have and all that still awaits me.  There is nothing like the Peace Corps when you seek to gain cross-cultural skills, learn a new language, and truly understand compassion that pervades the human race.  Being here is giving me invaluable tools of skill exchange- I am taking all that I’ve learned about good teaching, spreading that knowledge to talented people, and learning more about education in Cambodia.

And every part of this experience will be applicable and vital for my career, and my life, when I return.

And sometimes, you just need to write that down and come back and read it, when you’re bound to feel that way again. 

And how.

Photo Challenge: Cambodian Sunsets Un-Altered

I really enjoyed this next set of photographs, even when attempting (and succeeding!) at long exposures and silhouettes.  All photos of sunsets in my new home are completely un-edited by me.

day twelve and fifteen

sunsets and silhouettes

photo credit here goes to my darling husband, who suggested that i go capture the sunset by the water near our house, but volunteered to go when i was too lazy.  at the last minute, i asked him to capture his bike as well, but with the flash off so as to capture the silhouette.  i love this image because in the three short months we've been here, some of my favorite moments have happened while riding our bikes home from class or studying and being completely stunned into silence at the beauty of the sunset surrounding us.

day thirteen

me and thirteen things

 attempt one. me with thirteen grains of rice.  rice is our life here, and even though we now cook for ourselves, we've chosen to still cook khmer food (much to the chagrin of our fellow volunteers, me thinks.)  rice not visible, so i moved on to the next attempt.

 they were incredibly and surprisingly heavy.

life in cambodia. me with thirteen coconuts. chris loves to drink these, but they are too sweet (pa'aim) for me. look closely and you can see my arms straining!

day fourteen

eyes

my favorite eyes in the world. so freaking blue. can our children PLEASE get these eyes?

day sixteen

long exposure

each provincial town i've been to (all three of them) have many traffic circles around a monument.  this is our monument, all lit up at night.  the light streaks are of motos, a constant in my life.

one last shot of our sunset.

A Treatise on our "Job"

Now that we’re official volunteers, it’s high time to discuss just what our actual job descriptions are for the next twenty-four months.

First, we’re volunteers. Simple, eh?

We take that to mean our biggest priority is to learn as much as possible about our community and do our damndest to leave it better off, fulfilling their needs and wants.

Technically speaking though, Chris and I both came in as ETTT (English Teaching and Teacher Training) trainees, which is a part of the larger TEFL program in Peace Corps. 

We now both embody one half of this acronym, respectively. Chris is an English teacher at the local high school, and I am assigned to a Regional Teacher Training center. There are six total RTTCs in Cambodia.  PC Cambodia is piloting a Teacher Training program this year, but I’m not a part of the direct pilot.  (In the new system, there are two volunteers at one training center, and while one stays and does typical duties- teaching classes, working with trainees- the other travels to nearby provinces and sets up workshops and trainings for current English teachers and likely their Peace Corps counterparts (volunteers.)  Many of the other volunteers that are at RTTCs have some experience either teaching in Cambodia or working with children, and we have a great group.) My job is to train the soon-to-be English teachers at my Training Center in methodology and general English skills. 

Beyond that, it’s up to us.  We could volunteer with nearby NGOs (and there are a hearty few in our provincial town), try to work with other branches of the government wanting assistance, or simply spend all of our time with our students and fellow teachers, meeting their needs.

Hell, we could pretty much do anything besides open our own tuk-tuk business (because, you know, we can’t drive motorcycles here) as long as it’s benefitting the community and our majority of time is spent at our schools.

Hokay, so. You’ve now been briefed on our highly detailed and strictly defined job descriptions. Just how is it panning out, thus far?

Oh, panning out and how!

We just spent our first full week at site, and it was at times incredibly stimulating and exciting, and at others…freeing.

On Monday, we both showed up, at seven a.m., ready to meet our potential counterparts (the host country nationals we can collaborate, teach and generally work with at our schools) and see what life is like in classrooms in our respective schools.  While Chris dove right into observing the myriad of English teachers at his school- exactly as Peace Corps recommends- I discovered that the day was a pajoom day- or a day full of meetings. 

So, I attended one three-hour meeting in the morning and one two-hour meeting in the afternoon.  I was incredibly excited because I also met three of the five English trainers at my RTTC, and all are genuinely nice guys.  All of the teachers were given their schedule this day, but it wasn’t until Tuesday that I was able to successfully track down the majority of classes and times.

On Tuesday, I met a fourth English teacher, and he invited me to teach his two-hour afternoon class.  I politely said I’d love to come and watch and meet the trainees, but later on he texted me that he wouldn’t be needing my help teaching that day…

However, I was also able to speak with a counterpart I am incredibly excited to work with, and invite him to attend a week-long conference about a new TEFL curriculum/ system here that is happening in just a few weeks.  I also snagged the teaching times for this trainer and another trainer, and was able to let them know that I’d love to start teaching with them.

And then I was informed that classes wouldn’t actually begin until next week, because of a big test that happened Saturday.  So I spent the remaining days of the week showing up for an hour or so just to “angoi laing” (“sit play”), which simply means hanging out with other trainers and administrators at my school.  I think I’m slowly beginning to understand more of the jokes being made around me…except when they’re about me?!

On an even more successful note, Chris and I ventured to the market a number of times, and even spent some time getting to know the people at the post office on Thursday as we mailed some post cards for a fellow Volunteer in our province.  It was one of the best experiences thus far- we simply sat and chatted in Khmer for thirty minutes, and about all of the topics I know!  For example, we discussed our ages, marital status, that we don’t have kids, that we are volunteers, teachers, where we teach, that we like Khmer food and cook it for ourselves, and all about the members of our family- both in Cambodia AND in America.  It was truly perfect- all the things we had learned for seven weeks in PST really paid off!  Thanks PC Cambodia!

The flip side of this though is all of the down time.  We spent a portion of our days simply sitting in our new home, either making food, or organizing the information we had received that morning about schedules, or composing life-altering blog posts like this one.  At times, I’ve had to fight the feeling that I’m doing something wrong by having down time and remind myself it’s not supposed to be crazy hectic yet- IT’S THE FIRST WEEK!

And so, that is our current life in a nutshell.  As you read this, I’m likely teaching soon-to-be teachers or something like it for the first time in this country and I may be rewarding myself with a Coca Cola afterward for doing so with a smile on my face.

Cheers, and go grab yourself a little sweet reward- it’s Monday, after all.

Pre Service Training: The Path to Becoming a Volunteer

Here I sit, on the other side of nine weeks of acclimating to Cambodia, fondly referred to as “Pre Service Training.” PST is a required element of all Peace Corps posts, and is generally just like watching tennis: you either love it and could do it anytime, anywhere OR you freaking hate it and one more second spent watching tennis (er…in PST) is one more moment where you just want to tear your eyeballs out with your bare hands.

Luckily, Chris and I both fell in the former camp, and thoroughly enjoyed PST. 

(Now, watching tennis, that’s a whole other topic. Don’t get me started.)

Throughout the nine week process of adjusting to the weather, studying the language every day, learning the realities of Cambodian classrooms, and getting used to be in a completely different cultural situation, I constantly had to remind myself that the real work begins when we become official volunteers. During PST, you have a schedule created for you- you have somewhere to be, something to do.  You have people responsible for ensuring that you at least try to learn to speak Khmer for three or more hours a day.  You have a built in support system in the form of 20+ other Americans in your training site, and you can meet any one of those Americans at any moment of the day inside the glorified gas station that has become your sanctuary (SANCTUARY!) due to air conditioning and the promise of ice cream bars and cold Coca Cola.  If you’re bored on a Sunday, you can bet that a fellow trainee will be up for some volleyball, or a bike ride, or has a Cambodia host sister that will paint your nails for you.  At the end of training, there is a language exam meant to give you a baseline of your skills and encourage you to study and practice more to fully integrate in our new country.

I loved and relished in every one of these realities during PST.

On the flip side, I know that some of my fellow trainees felt stifled by the scheduling of our time, by the requirement that we learn the language, actually try to use it on a daily basis (?) and pass a language exam to show our competence, and completely freaked out by the general atmosphere of training.  Many a times did I hear other trainees speak longingly of “when we’re volunteers.”

And I can’t help but ask, doesn’t the hard part begin NOW, now that we’re volunteers? Now that we don’t have a host country national willing at any moment to help us arrange a ride in a tuk-tuk for a fair price, to help us remember how to say “I don’t like dried fish stuffed with pig intestine, thank you,” or to simply help us figure out what our host grandmother meant when she said “hey-oh-way?” (For the record, it’s one way of asking if you’re hungry or not.)

Granted, I’ll admit that the freshman-dorm-like atmosphere that PST took on at times was frustrating, and I did have to remind myself that for many of my fellow trainees, this was their first step after college, and didn’t I have many of the same fears and remarks and attitudes in my first six months in TFA, teaching middle schoolers?

Of course I did.

And whether you’re 21, or 26, or 46, PST is a gauntlet you just have to survive- whether you flourish, perish, or complain the entire time is entirely up to your maturity, frame of mind, and desire to succeed.  I’m happy to say that Chris and I survived and lived to swear in. We both passed our language exam, and can pretty successfully navigate situations that were terrifying two short months ago, like going to the pagoda, or ordering food, or just chit-chatting with the ladies in the market.

Here’s to the next two years, and “finally being a volunteer.”

On the merging of blogs

I have been out of the United States for nearly 12 weeks, and I am beginning to question my sanity in keeping two separate blogs for my "life" and my "life in Cambodia."

I thought having a separate "travel" blog was good because I could write about specific travel type issues and thoughts and leave this blog for my daily ramblings.  It worked well as we went through the application process, but now...

Now, my daily ramblings ARE travel issues and thoughts.  It's getting...tiring maintaining two blogs and I have wracked my brain all this week trying to brainstorm separate topics for my travel blog and here.

So I need your help. Is it a good idea to keep the separate blogs? Should I simply merge them, and then be able to update things more frequently here?

I'd love your opinion!

Also, if you're on Google reader, hop over to my site because I spent a bit of time (and money, as we buy internet per KB here) on updating the design a bit. I bought the image off istock right before we left- I had credits expiring- and finally used it.  It's a nod to my former wedding life.

Happy Friday- I'm off to bed!

Update:
thank you all a ton for your thoughts!  consider it merged and i am already feeling a bit saner! you all rock.

fotos, days 7-11, cambodian sweat featured

we continue the parade of not so great fotos, featuring my mac's photobooth this time!  for some reason, i'm thinking using the photobooth app isn't what the original creators had in mind when they created this lovely little challenge- but in cambodia, you do what you do to get it done. you know?

day seven

fruit

pineapple, how i love thee, i could just count the ways! this week, topher made my favorite combo here in cambodia- stir fried pineapple and beef.  it's so delicious with some garlic and onion.  in khmer, pineapple is "plia minoah." go ahead and call it that!

day eight

a bad habit

i contemplated taking a picture of my battered cuticles, but photos never do them justice. so here is a photo of me that probably strikes you as quite normal.  and therein lies the issue. i have a terrible, no good, very bad habit of making ridiculous faces in photos.  i just can't smile nicely. there is some terrible urge that gurgles up in my belly to my face that shrieks "don't make just any face- don't you dare smile! smirk, or open that huge mouth, or look awkward. just dammit, don't smile!" thusly, i end up with 900 photos of me doing this face. you're welcome, future children.

day nine

someone i love

now just look at that handsome fella!  i have so many photos of this crazy kid, but his passport photos just seemed more appropriate, us living in cambodia and all.  take a gander at that sweet kid on the left- that's my darling husband at the ripe age of seventeen.  the right passport is our official peace corps passport, with a photo taken just in april of this year.  i just love the look of terror/kind of terrifying look on topher's face in his first passport.  just lights my fire, ya know?

day ten

childhood memory

ok. serious moment here.  from age ten to nineteen, i had the stirrings of obsessive-compulsive disorder.  for example, i had to only use white or tan or yellow towels.  getting out of the shower, i had to lightly kick the side of the tub ten times with each foot before getting out.  i had to turn the light on one-two-three times (because odd numbers are lucky, and evens just cancel any of the luck out.) i had to make my bed the same way before school or else i'd have a bad day.

which brings us to the hair ties.  this is the last remnant of my OCD.  to this day, i still have some weird belief in odd numbers being "better" or "luckier" (but the caveat is two or ten. ten is my number from sports/life, and two just seems so happy like a pair of mates in love, eh?!), so i still have to maintain three, five, or seven hair ties on my wrist at all times.  five is preferred, seven is next best, and three is just ok.  in this photo i have four on- because the fifth is in my hair.  this is completely fine, as long as the the hair tie safely returns to my wrist post-ponytail.

now, as you might imagine, this has led to many an interesting moments in recent adult years.  many friends (mainly women) have come to notice that i wear hair ties at all times, and thus will sometimes ask me to borrow (use/keep) a hair tie.  i love being of use and helpful, and i truly gladly hand over a spare hair tie. however, i then, covertly, remove another hair tie to ensure i have that odd number.  i also sometimes have a spare in my purse just for these moments, because i really do love sharing the hair ties! i just have to honor this last strange OCD tendency.

also, you get a picture of my weirdness because, really, what childhood memory do i have access to in cambodia to photograph?! exactly.

day eleven

something blue

and this here is the blue spoon i just used to eat some nutella.  i got it from a gas station mart here in my town, and i loved it for it's wonderful usefulness spooning chocolatey-hazelnut deliciousness out of the jar for me. thank you, blue spoon. thank you.

The Canon Almost DSLR SX40- Here at Amazon. 

and on a final note, here is a photo of the almost-dslr i wished i had saved up to purchase prior to the move to cambodia.  did you know my birthday is in eighteen days? and did you know you can in no way afford a camera like this, nor get it safely shipped to you while serving as a volunteer in this here country? le sigh.  i enjoy from afar and dream of the day two years from now when i can really ask husband for this lovely little item.  it's just the perfect little gateway camera to a real dslr, don't you think?!

that gets me thinking i should do a 'when i turn twenty eight out of the peace corps birthday wishlist' post. i've never done one of those little wish list posts before, but this could the perfect time to start...

thoughts, comments or reactions?

Joining the October Photography Challenge...from 11,000 Miles Away!

I had a good internet source and an hour to spare today and I got the chance to catch up on many of my favorite blogs!  In perusing these said blogs, I found the October 2011 Photography Challenge from my fellow bee alum at Our Wired Lives and I said "I may live in Southeast Asia with my crappy point and shoot, but dammit, I'm in!"

You know, a week late.

But still. I'm in!  And here are my first six photos, in which I cheat a little bit because they're mainly from the last month or so, but from photo seven on, they will all be from the correct day!

Day One: A Self Portrait

Two: What you wore today

Granted, this is from a few weeks ago.  However, it in essence captures how I spend the professional part of my day- in a Khmer skirt, called a sampot, and a shirt I had made for me here in Cambodia.

Three: Clouds

A view of clouds from the back window of our training home.

Four: Something Green

And pink!

Five: From a High Angle

New friends from the inside of an elevator in Phnom Penh

Six: Low Angle

My first "frozen" drink ever in this country. A Pina Colada!

I'm excited to see what else friends in the challenge have taken!

Official & Have Awesome Shirt to Prove It!

A week ago, 59 Americans starved for cheese, air conditioning and anything but rice descended upon Phnom Penh for five days of fun and our official Swearing In as Peace Corps Volunteers!

Though the days were marked with great trainings, the real focus (sorry PC Cambodia!) had to be the food. Fellow trainees and I had been planning these five days of western food with great care. Priorities included Mexican, Italian, good breakfasts, cheesecake and in general all types of food that we won’t get for two months after we move to permanent site.

Eating delicious western food!

With our goals aligned, we pursued these ends to great success.  Some (ahem, Chris) may have suffered the ill effects every single morning of dairy products on their system, while others were quite able to eat a pizza, and then a cheeseburger, and then a chocolate and caramel tart and wake up refreshed and ready for more come daylight. Sorry husband! J So worth it though, no?

CHEESE!

After four days of cheese and more cheese, the time arrived for our official swear in as volunteers.  For the momentous occasion, fellow trainee friends and I had “wedding shirts” made.  These special occasion shirts are a bright or white color and made of the most uncomfortable polyester fabric imaginable, and covered in sequins and all manner of sparkle.

You know you want a shirt just like these!

They are, put simply, awesome.

So donned in these beautiful, albeit uncomfortable Khmer clothes, we took our solemn oath and became the official fifth group of Peace Corps Volunteers to enter Cambodia.  You can read an official news report here! I’m famous!

After one more day in Phnom Penh (and a few more meals centered around, what else, cheese), we backed our bags and bussed it to our new permanent home. 

I haven’t dived deeply into our permanent home due to a desire to play it safe, but know that we’re in the same province in which we did our training, living in the provincial town. Because I work in analogies, imagine this:

• A province is to Cambodia as a state is to America.
• A provincial town is to Cambodia as a state capital is to America.
• A district town is to Cambodia as a “larger” town is to America.

We live in a provincial town, though of the 25+  provinces in Cambodia, our provincial town is not the largest, nor the most modern or populated.  It IS the most populated, modern city in our province, but many other provinces- like Siem Reap, where Angkor Wat is, or Battambang, also in the North, near Thailand- have much larger provincial towns, with commodities similar to Phnom Penh.  Commodities meaning western food, access to reliable travel out of Cambodia and the like.  Our new home has two small universities, a teacher training center (where I work), two high schools, many primary schools, and one “western” food restaurant- called GFC, where you can buy fried chicken, fries, and something resembling pizza and burgers (though the pizza apparently has no cheese and comes with small shrimp. Hrmmm...)

But the kicker of permanent site is our home. Our abode is nothing like either of us expected when we joined the Peace Corps.  As a married couple, the amazing Peace Corps staff works incredibly hard to ensure we have a small semblance of privacy.  They worked wonders for us.  

We are living in a small home on the same land as our host family’s home. Yes, we have a separate home/building all to ourselves.  This gorgeous home has a gas stove, “running” water (we still bucket flush, but WOAH! A shower head!), a refrigerator and even a washing machine.  

We also have a small room for guests with a separate bed, and our own common room space with a small television.  

In PC, there’s a term for this- “Posh Corps.” It took Chris and I a few days to adjust to the guilt we felt settling over us when we visited our home a few weeks back.  But now, we’re reminded that everyone’s situation is different, we appreciate our good fortune, and are looking forward to many visitors, Peace Corps and family alike in our guest room!

*You can read this post, plus another one at my Travel Blog at www.marshmellowtravels.blogspot.com