I’ve been meaning to write to you for a while now, but am lacking both words and internet connection. The only times I am able to get online are during work hours or when I am at a cafe or a friend’s house. Soon, though, I will be getting my own internet. Be patient with me, please.
I’ve only been in Cambodia for a week, but already there is a sense of “home” that can be felt. I know Cambodia will never fully be home, though. Home is the street I grew up on and the faces that watched me become who I am. Home is where familiarity is not just a matter of head knowledge, but something known to the heart. While Cambodia surely has a piece of my heart, there is nothing quite as lovely to me as sitting with the my family and dearest friends in my parents’ backyard with white christmas lights strung through the bushes and music playing on the radio and laughter echoing between the trees.
The great thing is, Cambodia is bringing its own version of nights like back home. Saturday (or was it Sunday?) the visiting team, Derek & Hiatt, Ty & Jen, and myself all went to a little hut restaurant down the road. We sat in a hut that was built out over a little cliff that went down to the river. The breeze was blowing just right, the temperature wasn’t too hot, and our large group had a lot of talking and laughing going on. I leaned back against the railing and watched as these people around me simply enjoyed each others’ company.
This is what home feels like to me.
Cambodia is starting to feel little bit like “home.”
My apartment is starting to feel like a home to me, too. I have rattan shelves where I have put my clothes, thus creating a sort of “closet space” in my living room, along with rattan furniture borrowed from another apartment (the owner of the furniture is gone). My moto is parked in the space between my closet and the front door, and I have the air con, a wall fan, and a strategically placed oscillating fan all angled towards me while I sleep. I sleep good.
My pantry is perpetually empty, save for some awful tasting oatmeal, a can of peas & carrots, and some granola bars. My fridge has water, soy milk, dried mango (sort of like beef jerky, except mango), water, leftover BBQ chicken pizza, water, juice, and more water. Eventually I’ll probably add eggs to the collection, but not until I get a hot plate to cook all my food on.
My apartment is your typical one-room apartment. I even have a bathroom/shower combination complete with running water, though the water pressure is less than desirable, but it evens out because I don’t have hot water which means I can take ice cold showers when it is 390F outside. I am in love with the water temperature — it’s actually almost literally perfect, in my opinion.
I don’t have much else to report on. I am writing this at 9pm and I am exhausted after a long day of… sitting in an office. The heat counts, right? And I’m still allowed to claim jet lag for another week, right?
I am going to bed now. Thank you for loving me. I covet your prayers and words of encouragement, and am so thankful for the people that you are. I know I’ve said it before, and it may sound like a cliche, but I truly couldn’t be here without friends like you.
I’ll post again when I have something interesting to say.