for mommsies again - sweetie leeee-za leeee-za (aliza)

October 1, 2007

I cannot sleep and I wish I knew why. Obviously and unfortunately, you follow yourself wherever you go. And I realize that the same issues I still needed to sort out with myself at home have followed me all the way to Cambodia. Making the decision to change the situations of my life was probably the first step, and has probably changed parts of me (like my outlook on life) but I find myself still to be the messy, eccentric girl who procrastinates, worries easily, can often be absent minded and irresponsible, and still refuses to learn from her mistake(s) of not keeping her big mouth shut. Oh, what can I do? But cry, and try (harder), and pray!

Today, I was flipping Ly Chard over backwards from the bench to the bed (he lives next door to me), and his body slipped from my weak arms, and he bounced from the mattress to a crack between the next mattress, and his head smacked the cement floor. His eyes got all glassy and his smile faded and he just laid there limp, and I panicked. I laid him in the middle of the mattress, kissing him continually, “Somtoh! Somtoh! Somtoh!” (“sorry” in Khmer) I cried repeatedly, rubbing his hair, kissing his head. “Does it hurt? Does it feel hot? Do you feel a bump? Are you mad? Do you still like me? Should I go get ice?” I asked, and he just stared at the ceiling blankly, saying softly, "yes, yes, i don't know, no, yes, i don't know...". I got him an ice pack, and I held him in my arms, as the ice pack dripped onto his bare skin. He shivered and looked up at me, and I kissed him again, and realized that I love my students like they are my own (flesh and blood).

Aliza is the youngest student in the dorm, 6 years old. Her father visits quite often (every couple of weeks), but I've never met her mother, and certain situations have made me doubt she still has (or ever had) one to care for her. I sometimes think it would be incredibly hard to live away from home at 6 years old, perhaps unhealthy, as dorm students wake up at 5:30am every morning to do chores and have worship, and its very systematic and almost militant (is that the right word? my english is rapidly getting worse...) But the other kids do more than just befriend each other, and while I often see them standing between classrooms bored, playing in the dirty rain puddles (like what do they do trapped on the school campus, all the time?), I see a wonderful dorm family who is warm and accomodating. I think she's okay. Just the other day during break, Aliza crawled up on my lap with her timid, apologetic smile, "Teacher," she said, she pointed to herself and then me, "Mommy!" I joked and tipped her back into my arms and rocked her, sang her a little lullaby and kissed her head, we both laughed. And that friday night she fell asleep in vespers on my arm, and I woke her up and carried her to the dorm after prayer, and she held me close. Again, I love these kids, they need me, and I need them too.

Next weekend is Liz’s birthday, and Phil should now be getting time off, and is going to come visit me (or so he says)! Phil – please come to school with me a day, I want you to meet my children and let them love you. I know they will.

ps. I also have october 10-15 off of school as well....so that time wouldn't be, err, un-ideal either, yo le? (understand?)