Sylvia's Journal

In the parking lot of the hotel is a camper with stickers from various Latin American countries, and France. It is inhabited by a French family, consisting of a dentist, his wife and their two children in their early teens. They are on a four-year around the world tour, homeschooling the kids and exposing them, quite literally, to the world. After their dinner in the restaurant they retreat into their camper which is surrounded by a crowd of locals who stand or sit on their haunches around the vehicle. You can see them wondering in their mind what this is all about. I am given a business card with the family’s website. We talk in French. He apologizes for being a little behind in his postings. That makes at least two of us writing about our adventures in Cambodia. They’re leaving for Vietnam tomorrow.

We’re off early to get to Chumkaliu on time. The restaurant isn’t even open and I wait between the sleeping bodies of the receptionists and guards, lying on stretchers around me. I use the time to fill up my inbox, which takes awhile. The breakfast we ordered isn’t ready at 6:15 AM as promised and we have it packed up because we have to leave. Leonard drives us, claxonning loudly through clusters of motorbikes, kids walking and biking to school and dogs.

When we arrive many people are already there. Half of them have already been exposed to what we are going to teach them in one of the three events we have done so far – some, including the big chief from the province have now been part of the introductory session three times. For the facilitation team it is their fourth time.

We go through the usual opening protocol which I now know by heart: the highest chief is called to take his seat at the front table – applause accompanies him. The table is decked out with a baby blue satin skirt and pink rosettes at the corners, a flower arrangement next to the microphone in front of him. Then Naomi’s name is called (Dr. Naomi) and she moves in position, applause again, and then it’s my turn, applause. Naomi is asked each time to say a few words before the official opening by the chief. The microphone has an echo that reverberates around the small room. It reminds me of the chocolate salesperson at the Topsfield Fair who uses his microphone to gather a crowd. I fail to convince my team to put the microphone away since it they have convinced themselves that they cannot be heard in the back. I suggest they check rather than assume but after four tries I give up. And then, suddenly, they stop using the microphone, after I stop pushing. Something about yielding.

I am getting a bit distracted about my flight back to Boston because I discovered, rather late, that I am routed from Bangkok via Dubai to Amsterdam while there is a direct flight out of Bangkok to Amsterdam that will save me half a day and a two hour wait in the middle of the night in Dubai. It’s a little detail I missed in the hurried last-minute travel arrangement before I left Boston on January 9. In the meantime I learn from the head office that the travel agency that issued the ticket has gone out of business and my request is not an emergency. I decide to send an email SOS to Axel to see what he can do – it’s in his own interest as he would get me back half a day earlier and slightly less exhausted.

For lunch we go to a local restaurant; lunch was already ordered and shows up instantly: spicy beef that makes our eyes water and ginger-fried fish. Naomi has brought a can of vegetarian beans (including a can opener) and a can of Pringles which she offers to everyone. I pass and indulge in the dishes put in front of us. There is much joking about the junk food but some try.

After lunch we start with the Cambodian version of Simon Says; here it is Angel Says. There is much laughing. The enthusiasm, anywhere in the world, for such games tells me that adult don’t get to play silly games as much as they would like. For some reason in workshops it is OK to do this.

The rest of the day proceeds exactly according to plan. I am letting go, shedding tasks one by one. They are being picked up by Leonard and the team; the freedom this creates makes me yawn and I realize how tired I am. I run the feedback session for the last time and hand the baton over to Leonard and urge everyone to take notes throughout the day and do what I have been doing till now. This leads to a conversation about status and how to get feedback to people who are higher in status. The positive feedback is easy but the suggestions for improvement are a little bit trickier. I ask the senior staff if they can make requests for getting feedback. They say they want it. I suspect it will remain difficult.

We drive the 60 kilometers back, us in the ADRA pick up and several of the facilitators on their motor bikes – it takes them over an hour each way.