I have been putting off writing this for about ten days now. But today I tried to recall a conversation from the orphanage and it was a little hazy. So it's time I started the debrief, before I forget important details of what was the most profound experience of my life.
My five weeks volunteering at Hope for Cambodian Children in Battambang, central Cambodia, were intense. Everyday myself and partner-in-crime Vin would feel the most extreme range of emotions including elation, fun, frustration, anger, happiness, fear and sadness. All in one big melting pot of emotion!
Vin described it perfectly when he said it was like being given a piece of chocolate cake, tasting its chocolatey goodness and then WHAM! You get punched in the face. Some days there would be lots of chocolate cake and others, well suffice to say, lugging our heavy bruised hearts home after a punch-in-the-face day was tough.
It felt somewhat hypocritical, particularly on bad days, to head back to our small resort hotel and relax in the pool or our air-conditioned bungalow (which the cleaners made up daily with fresh flowers on our pillows). At least it did initially, but we soon realised that the orphanage would literally take everything we had energy wise. So unwinding in the evenings was our chance to get ourselves together again so we could tackle the next day! (As well as the emotional and mental toil, the daily temperature was between 40 and 45 degrees so we were physically exhausted).
It's funny now reading over notes from week one as my outlook obviously changed considerably. But that doesn't make them any less valid I suppose, so below is what I was thinking very early on. I'm not sure how appropriate it is to judge first impressions of an orphanage, but naturally any place in reality is never quite as you imagined. So with that in mind...
Friday 9 April
Vin got the chance to spend some time with two of the disabled children, Sovan and Sreyleak. Watching him do an impromptu examination of Sreyleak and her badly disabled body just about broke my heart, and his. But on the positive side he thinks he can really help them and has lots of ideas. Still it's hard to see a little girl like Sreyleak struggle to master her limbs. It's almost like her body is fighting from the inside and her mind doesn't understand why. The look in her eyes is almost confusion. Suffice to say I think we're in for a roller coaster of emotions over the next few weeks.
Phil has asked me to assist with sponsorship by reviewing the process and helping to update the kids' biographies. I'm pretty excited. In the past the Board (in Aus) has had staff interview the kids using a long and repetitive survey, which I'll bet was quite intimidating. From any childs perspective if it looks and smells like a test - then it probably is! So it's hard to imagine these particular kids opening up to someone with a clipboard and endless list of questions. As a consequence most of the bios read like carbon copies and give you very little insight into their personalities. Step one - burn the questionaire!!
Monday 12 April
Then there's Sreynit, who I've nicknamed Monkey because she latches to your back and stays there. She is only marginally bigger than the twins so I nearly fell over when I learned she's actually six. Monkey was brought to HfCC only a month ago from the Provincial Hospital, where she cared for her mother who lay dying of AIDS. Her mother was abusive and eventually hospital staff called the Centre and she eventually came home with them. Monkey's eye (below) is apparently the result of her mother using a knife to remove an abcess, which was pretty tough to hear.
But she has the BEST giggle - it is honestly the most amazing sound in the world. In fact Vin gives her whizzy dizzys all day long just to keep hearing it. (Punch in the face, chocolate cake). Like a dozen other kids at the Centre Monkey is HIV positive, which is something we are trying to get used to. A little guy cut his lip today and as I walked him over to the Nurse he wanted to be picked up. But he was covered in blood so I couldn't!
About half the kids and most of the staff have returned to their villages for the Khmer New Years holiday. (Some kids still have a parent or family members outside the Centre, and it's important for them to still be known within their community in case they ever return there to live). So Vin and I, plus two carers and two volunteers will be looking after about 65 kids next week. Apparently one of the New Years traditions is water fights, so we're on the hunt for water bombs and pistols. I fear the kids will go a little nuts... but with a nurse on duty we should be ok!