august 31

Rithy gave me a ride home from school (pronounced sa-la in khmer) on his motorcycle, and I felt just like the asian version of Che Guevara (Ernesto) in motorcycle diaries, the wind in my hair, the territory up ahead yet to be explored. There are cows and chickens free in the city streets. Phnom Penh isn’t very big, but it’s very easy to get lost in. It’s crowded and sweaty and hectic, dangerous, and there is the always difficult language barrier. It rained all afternoon, and when I looked off my balcony, Rithy was playing badminton in funny short track shorts and a muscle tank. He reminds me of my uncles in the Philippines (Jesse and Jeanry), laugh, belly, and all.

Last night Fay and Tim took us out to eat at Chi Cha, it's an Indian restaurant downtown, where the SM's last year would get delivery from everyweek. It's $2 U.S. for a 5 course meal. You mostly can eat a fairly large meal for around a $1. At Chi Cha, I ordered chicken curry for $.90. But my favorite part is the fruit. The marketplaces are full of rows of fresh fruit for very cheap. And you can get fresh fruit shakes for a couple thousand reil (4000 reil is $1 U.S). I just thought I'd mention the food, because when I talked to Brian, that was the first question he asked. So, yes, it's good! Ha. I miss you friends!

I set up my classroom today. It is still a mess! I now have only Sunday to do all of my lesson plans. I want to be a good teacher. I wish I could say I had the time to be one.

dinner on the mekhong river (Left: Heather, Kim, Rithy / Right: Liz, me, Janice, Jephone)

august 30

Today i am sitting in a makeshift 3 day excel class, in a crowded hot room with ancient computers, filled with cambodians that i cannot understand, they hit my back, pull my arms in every direction, "help me katrina," they say, thick with accent, then they talk so loud and fast in khmer to one another, and then again, to you, in broken english. i listen closely with stern concentration to make sense of their few english words. i am american. so american. today i just sat there and laughed, and laughed, and could not stop. look where i am. look at my situations. look at my arms being pulled out of their sockets! (and this is only a workshop for teachers, the students haven't even come yet!) i'm halfway across the world. not just for leisure travel, for vacation, but work. i'm living here. i'm out of my mind. ecstatic. insane. stressed. and i'm happy. really. i am. praise God.

august 29

The traffic in asia has always, from my previous and present experiences, been chaotic. Beyond chaotic. Dangerous. Deadly? To the average american, I'd say driving is definitely not safe. You don't have lanes, signs, rules, regulations, and the few traffic lights they installed, nobody stops at. If you do stop, traffic will run into you from behind. No, it is not wise or safe to follow the rules. Some people have cars, some have bikes, but most ride on motorcycles. You can ride on the back of a "moto" (what they call it), for about $.25. Even though their driving is so crazy, they don't have more accidents than we do in the U.S. It is okay to have someone else drive you here. But today, I rode my bike to school. There is a 5 way stop, I turn uphill, and cars, motos, trucks, bikes, they came at me from every direction. Everyone is stopped and honking, and I just get off my bike as I am cornered in traffic and starting to tip over on my bike (that is too big for me, as the previous owner was a Caucasian male volunteer from last year who was at least over 6 ft. A group of young local boys laughed at me, point, wave at me. I am going to die. Will I ever get used to this? Should I get used to this?

Yesterday, JC took us to town. We went by the Mekhong River, and there was Buddhist religious festival in front of the palace. The air was thick and smoky from burned incense they kept inside cracked coconuts. They waved lotus flowers in the air, and took turns standing crammed into a small room where the spirit inhabited. Young boys nearby sold small sparrows that you could buy to set free, while hundreds of families and sad-eyed children sat on plastic mats with their food. They were also selling food by the river, fruit, eggs, fish cakes, even snails. JC bought us some boiled corn, and we ate it by the riverside.

I'm hoping to get my schedule and books sometime today. I still haven't recieved it. I will have 31 students (in my 1st grade homeroom) all on my own, not to mention 22 in 8th grade math.

Please keep me in your prayers, as you are in mine.

Photos will come soon.

august 27

I've finally received clarity on my duties as a missionary. It was our first day of teacher training. I am teaching the 1st grade. I am the home room teacher, so I teach all the subjects, except for the one period a day, where I will be teaching 8th grade math. I even teach music. The kids speak little to no English, but we are known as an all-english (international) school, we uphold this reputation and the rules are that we never speak Khmer on campus, only English. How will I communicate with my students? I ask myself this, with no answers.... but I am excited. Oddly. I'm ecstatic. We recieve the textbooks for our classes tomorrow, most of the classes don't have teacher's editions. I have 4 days to do all of my lesson plans, and I will hand in yearly, quarterly, weekly, and daily lesson plans, just in case someone needs to fill in for me. I have 4 days to get creative. I am nervous. Yes. A little.

Heather and I walked to an internet cafe at the marketplace, Psa Jaa (? i can't remember). More will come later, but I thought I'd share pictures.

august 25

At 6:30pm, we hear the “Noodle Seller” walk by from inside the Rogers’ house, he plays percussion on what sounds like a hollow wooden instrument. Phnom Penh is an interesting city, and because that adjective is horribly vague, I’ll say that it is magical, wonderful, destructed, poor, corrupt, where happiness and pain boils, bakes, fries in every street cart on every street corner in the city, where love and hate breathe the same air. It’s not extraordinary or particularly beautiful, yet it has life, laughter, poverty, beautiful, simple people; a city that compels you, excites you, depresses you: a perfect catalyst for discomfort and movement. Just what I said I had been looking for.

I live in an apartment at the steeple of the church, with two girls, my friend Liz from Walla Walla, and another girl I just met from Union, named Heather. We go up three flights of stairs, the last an iron spiral staircase, and we have the most beautiful balcony, where you can watch the stars if you wake up at 4am, like I did this morning, and then again just before 6am with Liz, where we watched the sunrise (which I took a picture of it, you can see it above). The Khmer's take this peaceful luxury for granted now, as I told a fellow staff at lunch of our experience and he replies, "does the sun not rise in U.S.?" We live across from Khmer mansions, we're told all the money to build them comes from corruption.



Liz and I (pictured above in our apartment) befriended a couple from Burma, who spent the last 5 years teaching in Seoul, Korea. 3 weeks ago they went to Thailand, did a week of prep, a week later (2 weeks ago) got married, went on their honeymoon all through Thailand, and then right after that, came here to Cambodia. The wife, Kimberly, has a youthful energy that is real and relevant, a laugh that is warm, funny, genuine, and inclusive. She's gutsy and dynamic, and says things (at our sabbath potluck) like, "westerners eat so quietly and stay in the same place, I like to eat and laugh and talk and keep eating. I feel like I'm eating at my own funeral." And when you laugh, she puts her finger over her lips, "sssshhh!" she says with a smile as wide as a jack-o-lantern. The husband is named Benjamin, and has black-rimmed glasses and silly jokes and funny commentary. He plays guitar and piano, and is genuinely nice. I am glad I have met them. It makes these transitions seem easier and more fun.

I miss you guys all, so tremendously much. Mom and dad. I hope to call you soon. Love you always and forever.

august 18

Hi. I thought it proper to introduce myself.

I'm Trina, and I'm going to Phnom Penh (pronounced pA-NOM pen), Cambodia (leaving in 4 days), where I'll be living with two other girls in the steeple of the church. I'll be teaching English, just blocks from downtown, no car, but I've been told that I'm going to be given a bike, If I wish to ride it, to transport me from place to place. My apartment (in the steeple of the church), is a couple blocks from the school, and I was told today, from a friend of a previous employee, that there is a high risk of running over wild chickens in the street. While I hope I don't, details like this excite me.

I'm silly and non-confrontational, I'd like to think of myself as flexible, accomodating, but am often stubborn. I'd actually say that both are true, as I am a walking contradiction, in desperate need of God's grace. I also like to be right, noticed, and needed. I'm a comfortable, complacent 19 year old, and while I'm not getting any younger, and only delving further into the responsibilities and complexities of life and adulthood, I've taken my head out of clouds for long enough to realize when action is necessary for change and self-betterment. I thought it was time to do something about it. As a result, I took this opportunity.

I'm a lover of art, music, creativity, innovation, ingenuity. I like good food, books, films and conversations of substance, love all that is well-designed, aesthetically pleasing in a way that is stimulating, original, and unique. Writing is how I make sense of things. I'm a hard worker. A worry-er.

Naive in the way that I always wants to assume the best in people.

Be my friend, and keep me in your prayers.
For I promise to do the same, whether you comply or not.

I'll write often.