Monday, August 30, 2010

Dear Cambodia,

I want to thank a moment to thank you for all you’ve taught me over the last year. 

It’s impossible to enumerate all the various lessons, but I know this much is true: I will never be the same.

You’ve taught me humility and patience, things I was never good at in the States (and honestly, I’ve still got a long way to go in these areas).  You’ve taught me to go with the flow—whether the flow leads to a funeral, a wedding, or an afternoon in my hammock.  You’ve taught me the difference between want and need, and then again what true needs are.  You’ve taught me to love without reservation or condition, and you’ve taught me forgiveness down to the atomic level (not just that surface forgiveness I’ve been used to).

I want to thank you for your generosity—for a place that has been ravaged not only by my own country, but by its own people, you have given me so much.  Your people are a testament to the grace and goodness that I know resides in each and every person on this planet, if they allow it to grow.  Your people have written their names indelibly on my heart.

I want to thank you for allowing me the space and time to learn how much my family back in America means to me, both blood and chosen, and for giving me the room to love them as I love your own people.  I also want to thank you for allowing me this experience and the sure knowledge that comes with it; that I was created to ease suffering and be the compassion that is lacking in this world. 

I only hope I can do half of what you’ve done for me.  Forgive me if in my imperfection and eagerness I make a few mistakes along the way.  Just know I’m doing my best.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Rain, Rain, Don’t Go Away—we need you this dry and dusty day!

I’m sitting in my hotel room watching an epic thunderstorm rage outside, and I can hear children laughing and playing in the street below.  It’s nights like these that I am amazed at my life, and that I’ve ended up where I am. 

Being in the Peace Corps has been a lifelong dream for me—since 4th grade, at least, and now here I am, a real live Peace Corps Volunteer, loving the monsoon season in the country that has become my second home.  I hear the squeals of the kids below and I know they’re down there, swimming in the street and dancing around naked while the rain falls and the thunder crashes.  I hear their happiness and I think of all the things they don’t have, and don’t know they don’t have.  I hear their laughter and my heart melts, because I know that right now, in this moment, this is where I am meant to be, and their laughter won’t always be the soundtrack to my life. 

Rain has always been a good thing for me—it clears my head and washes away the cobwebs, helps me see what is important and what can be let go.  To the people of Cambodia rain is just as important, as the rainy season is off to a late start and the rice farmers are worried about crops.  In a way, whether we need to think straight or feed our families, the rain here does the same thing for all of us—it offers hope. 

I don’t know what the future holds for me, or for Cambodia, but I do know there’s an abundance of hope.  And that, my friends, is something that I, and this country, could use a lot more of.  So I’ll welcome the rain, and the children’s laughter, and let it remind me of all that is and all that could be.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Rockin' in the free world.

One thing that being sick with Dengue has afforded me is a greater awareness of sensation. The rash you get (or at least the rash I got) covered my entire body, from the soles of my feet to the tippy top of my head, and made me very aware of EVERYTHING that touched any tiny little part of my skin.

I slept for about 9 hours this afternoon, then forced myself to eat (I'm not hungry AT ALL, but the doc says I have to eat to get better). While I was waiting for my food to arrive, I sat on the bed in my hotel room and just rocked back and forth, noticing the way the air moved against my skin. It was very comforting. I really enjoyed just rocking back and forth in the quietness of my room, feeling my skin move and stretch...when my food arrived I was actually a little disappointed that I had to stop and answer the door.

After I ate, I rocked a little more and now that I feel all sorts of blissed out, I'm going to go back to sleep and attempt to kick this Dengue's butt in my dreams. And if that doesn't work...well....I can always rock some more.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Down with the Dengue

In my last post I wrote about how I was sick on my birthday, and how for the umpteenth year in a row my birthday pretty much sucked.  Well, shortly after I wrote that I found out that I wasn’t just laid up with some random cold, but with Dengue Fever. 

Dengue is a mosquito born illness for which there is no treatment or cure.  Its symptoms include a fever, a headache and pain in the eyes, a rash, muscle aches and pains that make it feel like your bones are breaking from the inside out, and an overwhelming desire to sleep.  Because of the bone pain, Dengue is sometimes called Bonebreak fever.  I will attest to the fact that it really does feel like your  bones are breaking. 

My fever at one point went up to 104.5, and even with meds and ice packs the lowest it went for a week was down to 100F.  I can’t tell you how miserable it is to have a fever that high when you’re in a tropical country!  It’s horrible not being able to feel warm when you’re nearly on the equator!

Already it is two weeks since my birthday, and I am starting to notice some improvement in my health—the fever left a last week, and the rash is gone, thank God, but I’m still so incredibly tired and every time I cough or move I get pains through my body.  I do have to say, that rash is something I would NEVER wish on my worst enemy.  It felt like my entire body was being ravaged by fire ants, twenty-four hours a day.  And it covered my entire body. 

Now that I’m on the mend, I’m looking forward to getting back to my village soon.  I haven’t seen my host family in two weeks and I miss them a lot.  I’m still sleeping an inordinate amount of time, but even if I’m sleeping, it will be nice to be back with my family.  The best part, I think, will be getting to hug my mom and snuggle with her while she checks my hair for lice and ticks.  It sounds so backwater, I know, but it’s the simplest little things here that remind me that I’m loved. 

Also, something I have to think about is whether I want to keep doing this.  The doctor today encouraged me to think about going home.  The fact of the matter is, each time you get dengue it gets worse and every time gets you one step closer to having hemorrhagic fever, which can cause all kinds of lovely bleeding.  The doc pointed out that I’ve been a very sick woman here in Cambodia, and it just seems like I can’t catch a break.  I know that I don’t want to go home—I am doing what I love to do, and what I believe is my purpose at this time in my life.  I also know, though, that there’s only so much abuse my body can take without impacting my ability to do good things in the future. 

I have very wise parents and friends, and they’ve all taught me that making important decisions while you’re sick/impaired/etc, is not a good idea, so for now the decision goes on the back burner.  When I’m well, and that may be another month yet, I’ll start to think about the big picture and whether or not continuing here is in my best interest. 

Until then, love and blessings from Cambodia.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

And this year for my birthday…

Ever since my 16th birthday, when I spent the day at the ICU with my grandma, who was dying of lung cancer, my birthdays have sucked.  With two exceptions, they have sucked royally.

And this year is no different.

August 6, some of the K4 trainees came to my house for their Kampuchea Adventure.  I think they had a good time….I HOPE they did, anyway.  We kept it really low key and I gave them a chance to relax and just NOT do training stuff for a few days (not to mention the fact that my bones really hurt and I didn’t want to do stuff), and then I fed them spaghetti and macaroni and cheese—things I craved a LOT during training.  When they left on the morning of the 8th, I felt not so great but figured it was just fatigue from the new exercise class I’d started with my mom combined with the extra effort of playing hostess and translator all weekend.

BUT sometime in the middle of the night between the 8th and 9th I woke up with a fever of 103 (SURPRISE!!!) that wouldn’t go down below 100 no matter what medicine, or how much I took.  I also had a really nasty cough.  Three and a half days later, with no relief from the fever AT ALL (and one of the docs here saying, “just eat some soup, you’ll be fine.”) my host mom forced me to lay down with a block of ice on my head and one on my chest.  That helped a little, but by that time I was in so much pain that anything touching my skin made me sob uncontrollably.  

Today is August 12, my 27th birthday, and now on top of all the other stuff I’ve already written, I’m dealing with the fact that I have probably coughed my way into a hernia.  OH JOY. 

I don’t know what I will be doing for my birthday next year, but I’m guessing whatever it is will be great compared to this one.