March 15

Chard moved away (my student who used to live next door, pictured above), last weekend, after his uncle, Rithy, became so furious at the expulsion of his nephew Som Oun (Chard’s older brother), resulting in his resignation as assistant dean, and his general hatred/resentment towards anyone foreign to Cambodia. I don’t really understand the man, who once used to tell me daily I was beautiful, giving me looks that filled me with a shivering discomfort and slew of misgivings, adding comments like, “I am old, but I still like the young girl.” Last year he taught all of the Bible classes for High School at CAS, and now, I am unsure of his title. Out of his mouth often come disagreeable, peculiar, irreverent comments; and his actions are equally frustrating and discouraging, sucking me dry of compassion. He now refuses to look me in the eye, to even listen to me speak, yet he seems to bleed a generous amount of fan-following charisma, enough to make benevolent Khmer women beg to marry him. I don't understand this. Life is not just. What goes around does not always come around. More often than not, it doesn't (seem to). But this will never change. I wish I understood, or that something could be said, or exist, so that I may.

Yet, it wasn’t more than 3 days later, when Chard, during break time, pulls 5000 reil out of his shirt pocket, “I save the money so I can come visit you. Teacher, I wait after school and go home with you, okay?" He doesn’t buy a snack during break time to pay for the motodope. That afternoon, I had to work late, but Liz took him home to our apartment, I arrived to him sitting in the desk, watching a movie on Liz’s computer, turns around and faces me with a grin as wide as a jack-o-latern. There’s no one sweeter than him. Nobody who loves me quite like my Chard. ♥