On saying goodbye to puppies and kings, how towels are like duck tape, and a new standard for beauty

Dear friends and family,

Tragic news! Pippin the puppy is gone, just like that. No ceremony, no goodbye. A neighbour came by, put him in a plastic bag, and walked away. Who will be next? Milka (the chocolate coloured puppy), or Barrie (named for the playwright because he loves to play)? My host mother must have seen the horror on my face because she quickly reassured me “we give one puppy to friend.” I tried to tell myself that he is probably happy in his new home. Since no one here treats animals like pets, maybe I shouldn’t get in the habit of it either, but I can’t help it! I have named the household cat Alacrity; you should see the way she moves when she is chasing lizards in the rafters! The male dog is named Twitchy because he has this perpetually- reoccurring back spasm that causes his whole body to twitch about once a second. This is really annoying, especially when he is under the table and starts rubbing against your leg. Ugh. The mother dog is named Lily. The cat at the office is Joy. My supervisor was very amused to learn that I had named his cat.

My 11 year old host sister saw me watching Tangled on my computer one day, and now constantly asks to watch it. I am glad that I have something to share with her, and honestly, it is better than watching the Korean dramas that are on TV. Speaking of TV, regular programming has return to the television after a week of special broadcasting.  Last week, the King Father of Cambodia died. The country deeply feels this loss, and this past week has been a time of mourning. On television, they showed hours and hours of processions, mourning, speeches, monks chanting, important people from around the world offering their condolences, etc. I’m not sure if it would have been more or less boring to watch if I could understand what they were all saying. Just to give some background about the significance of this figure, he was crowned King in the 40’s when Cambodia was still a French colony. It is believed that the French selected him from among possible candidates because they believed he would be the most malleable and easy to control. However, King Norodom Sihanouk led his country to a peaceful independence from France after gathering support from nations around the world. As such, he is referred to as the father of Cambodia. He was a dynamic, influential, and clever leader. He made the decision to abdicate after a few years to lead a political party which gave him more real power and sway in the country’s politics. Some people claim one of his most important achievements was to keep the country out of Vietnam War for as long as he did. However, Norodom Sihanouk was ousted, and then watched his country descend into war and the terrible Pol Pot years, to be crowned king once more as stability returned. He reigned until 2004 when he abdicated due to poor health, replaced by his son who is still without heir. He King Father was 89 when he passed away. Many wonder now what will happen to the monarchy and unity in Cambodia now that he is gone. They say to can see the face of the old king when you look at the moon.

If Norodom Sihanouk was the father of their nation as Sir John A was ours; their Angkor Wat temple our maple leaf; then the kroma is to Cambodians what duck tape is to Canadians. I was given a kroma for the first time yesterday. That I now have one officially shows that I have spent time in Cambodia. Long before Douglas Adams ever said “you’ve got to know where your towel is”, Cambodians were proving the wisdom of this truth in their daily lives. Now, it is not fair to call a kroma a towel, for it is certainly much much more than a mere towel. It is a piece of checkered cloth, usually red, whose uses are endless. A headscarf to keep the sun off your head when working outdoors (can be tied several ways), a cloth to wipe down the table or remove rice from the fingers of messy kids, women wear it when they go to bathe, often men will wear only a kroma wrapped around their waist in the heat of the afternoon, a scarf to keep the sun off your skin when you drive a moto, and the list grows as long as the creativity of the owner.

But even though I now have a kroma scarf like all Cambodians and FEEL more like I belong, I still stick out in a crowd. How many of you like to be the centre of attention? How many of you know that I do NOT like to be the centre of attention? I thought I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. As one of only 2 foreigners in this village, I get a lot of “hello!”s  and comments about how pretty I am. What I was not expecting was everyone to say how much they love my nose. I know enough now to know when people are talking about me, and not 5 minutes go by after being in a new group of people before someone invariably comments on how beautiful my nose is. Now, to be honest, I’ve never really liked my nose, the size of which I blame on my Mennonite heritage. Not that it has ever been that big of an issue for me… God made me just the way I am, it’s the beauty of the heart that matters, and all that… but everyone has SOMETHING about themselves they wish was different, right? It got me thinking though, why is it that I don’t particularly like my nose? The longer I am here, the more it is obvious that I got that message from society. We’d like to think that there is a universal standard for beauty… that we have the “right” standard, so we don’t have to feel like we are just trying to fit in and please people when we try to stay super skinny, or keep our hair from showing grey, or spend way too much money getting our nails done. Now, I’m not here to get into a debate about natural/instinctive preferences, biology, psychology, and all that. Why do I not find beauty spots on the face with one long hair growing out of it attractive (while some Cambodians do)? Why is it that they love my nose?  Now, maybe they just ‘pick’ on my nose because, let’s face it, they can’t comment on my height, nor is the colour of my hair very striking. But it still raises the question: Where does our standard for beauty come from and should we put as much importance on it as we do? How can we have a change of perspective to really KNOW in our hearts that it is the beauty inside that matters. How can we begin to see people through God’s eyes, without this habit of comparing ourselves with others, and compare others with ourselves?

Before I go for today, let me share with you a verse I came across while reading Hebrews this last week. It doesn’t really have any particular relevance to what I’ve been talking about, but it is just so amazing that I feel the need to share it. Listen to these words of truth:

“So God has given us both his promise and his oath. These two things are unchangeable because it is impossible for God to lie. Therefore we who have fled to him for refuge can take new courage, for we can hold on to his promise with confidence. This confidence is like a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. It leads us through the curtain of heaven into God’s inner sanctuary.” Heb 6:18-19.

Yours truly,

Rebecca

Another NGO came to visit ODOV and learn about the work we are doing, as well as some technical skills.

 

Another glorious sunset!