Last Thursday all the students and I went to the only water park in Cambodia, located just south of Phnom Penh. To say the park was unsafe would be an understatement; this was one of the most hazardous operations I’ve ever seen. Kids piled down water slides ten at a time as ‘lifeguards’ (actually young kids who looked like they’d been pulled off the street the day before) stood by unconcerned. I was shocked that the day netted no casualties. And to top it off, one of our motos got a flat tire, so we had the privilege of walking it down the dusty dirt path towards civilization. All in a day’s work.
On Sunday, I joined a group that meets to run in rural areas outside of Phnom Penh, after hearing about the group from a friend. I was not quite prepared for the adventure that awaited me. About fifteen of us stood in the back of a truck that ferried us about 40 km south of Phnom Penh, and when we got out, the landscape made it far from evident that we were anywhere near the city. We proceeded to take a 13 km run through rice paddies and past straw huts, all the while drawing the attention of local kids, who goggled at us in a manner that suggested that some of them might have never seen a foreigner before. Because our course took us through water obstacles like streams and rice paddies, I left my camera behind, but as I emerged onto a particular rice paddy, I cursed my earlier decision. A stunning rainbow, smeared across the black expanse of sky, framed a lone farmer (fully decked out in the stereotypical conical hat that I know you’re envisioning as you read this) crouched among endless stretches of rice stalks, harvesting his bounty. So much for my one chance at photographic fame.
Cambodia is said to be the most heavily mined nation on the planet, and as I bounded over the terrain, at many points in the run I was fairly confident that I was about to step on a land mine, despite the assurances to the contrary by my new Khmer friend who claimed to be familiar with the area. As evening drew near, we reached Saang Phnom, a Buddhist temple and pagoda perched on a hill and towering over the surrounding countryside. The vantage point offered a spectacular view of the scenic landscape we had just traversed and validated our efforts throughout the lengthy run.
Besides risking my life at water parks and in rice paddies, I have continued to teach English, computer skills, and leadership skills classes. I am in the process of meeting individually with each of the scholarship students with whom I am working most closely, disseminating materials developed in partnership with the Center for Creative Leadership, and my interactions with these students continue to be fascinating and thought-provoking.
On Sunday, I joined a group that meets to run in rural areas outside of Phnom Penh, after hearing about the group from a friend. I was not quite prepared for the adventure that awaited me. About fifteen of us stood in the back of a truck that ferried us about 40 km south of Phnom Penh, and when we got out, the landscape made it far from evident that we were anywhere near the city. We proceeded to take a 13 km run through rice paddies and past straw huts, all the while drawing the attention of local kids, who goggled at us in a manner that suggested that some of them might have never seen a foreigner before. Because our course took us through water obstacles like streams and rice paddies, I left my camera behind, but as I emerged onto a particular rice paddy, I cursed my earlier decision. A stunning rainbow, smeared across the black expanse of sky, framed a lone farmer (fully decked out in the stereotypical conical hat that I know you’re envisioning as you read this) crouched among endless stretches of rice stalks, harvesting his bounty. So much for my one chance at photographic fame.
Cambodia is said to be the most heavily mined nation on the planet, and as I bounded over the terrain, at many points in the run I was fairly confident that I was about to step on a land mine, despite the assurances to the contrary by my new Khmer friend who claimed to be familiar with the area. As evening drew near, we reached Saang Phnom, a Buddhist temple and pagoda perched on a hill and towering over the surrounding countryside. The vantage point offered a spectacular view of the scenic landscape we had just traversed and validated our efforts throughout the lengthy run.
Besides risking my life at water parks and in rice paddies, I have continued to teach English, computer skills, and leadership skills classes. I am in the process of meeting individually with each of the scholarship students with whom I am working most closely, disseminating materials developed in partnership with the Center for Creative Leadership, and my interactions with these students continue to be fascinating and thought-provoking.
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