Day Ten: Lost in Thailand

4 a.m. - Someone's alarm goes off, abruptly waking me from a deep sleep. Suddenly, I'm wide awake. It's a good thing too, because I need all the time I can get to get ready, since I was too exhausted last night to shower like I planned to do.

We finish packing everything up and we're out of the teamhouse by 5:25. I just hope I didn't forget anything.

Sokla, who has been our tuk-tuk driver this whole time here in Cambodia, is faithfully waiting for us outside, right on time as usual. We pile all of our luggage on two tuk-tuks, and wave goodbye to Lucky and Long, who live at the teamhouse and who have been really hospitable and helpful during our stay.

We arrive at the bus station a short ten minutes later. It is a bittersweet departure - we would love to stay, and spend a whole day with the orphans. But our trip is coming to a close, and we need to meet up with our other group in Bangkok.

Allegedly, the bus ride from Phnom Penh to Bangkok is 12 hours. Yeah, we'll see if that really happens.

People use their horns for different reasons here. In the. U.S., we honk to show our anger at someone for cutting us off in traffic, or to let someone who is about to run into you know that you are there. Here, the horn is used a lot more. It isn't uncommon to hear a car horn every ten seconds or so, in Cambodia. They don't do it out of anger, for the most part. Since the vast majority of intersections have no stop signs or stop lights, when a vehicle is about to enter an intersection, they honk. They also honk when they want to let the person in front of them know that they want to pass them. The rule of the road here basically is the bigger the vehicle, the more people will move out of the way to let them cross the intersection or pass them.

The drive to Bangkok consists of an eight hour bus ride to Poi Pet where we have to get off to walk across the Cambodia / Thailand border. We are supposed to be taking another bus from Poi Pet to Bangkok after we cross the border. As soon as we get off the bus in Poi Pet, a man takes our bus tickets away from us and gives each of us a blue sticker, which we put on our shirts. This makes me a little nervous. I could just picture it: we cross the border into Thailand and attempt to board a bus without our tickets.

"You need a ticket to board," the bus driver would say. "You fell for the blue sticker trick, didn't you?"

It takes us over two hours to cross the border, after waiting in all the lines and showing the officials our passports. It is 4:30. I've been "holding it" for several hours now. I need to find a bathroom immediately. All the blue sticker people congregate together until we are led by some man in a uniform to the bus stop. I ask him if I have time to use the bathroom. He nods and points to where it is. Without paying much attention to my surroundings, I dash to the building he'd pointed to. It costs three baht to use this bathroom.

Now, I've seen some pretty disgusting bathrooms during my stay in Asia. But this one was hands down the grossest, dirtiest, smelliest, most disgusting bathroom I've ever used. When I first enter the bathroom, all eight stalls are occupied. So I wait. I am first in line. Out of nowhere though, this Thai lady and her teenage daughter cut right in front of me in line. I wait till she catches my eye and I give her a look.

"I," I begin, pointing at myself, "was here," I gesture around the room, "FIRST." I hold up my first finger, signifying the number one. Even if she doesn't understand English, my harsh and direct tone lets her know not to mess with me. She nods and gets behind me in line. Her daughter stays in front of me though. Yeah, we'll see about that.

A stall opens up. I push past the girl who'd cut in front of me, preparing to fight her if necessary. I probably outweigh her by about forty pounds. She doesn't try to protest.

If there's one thing I've learned in my somewhat recent past, it's to never let people walk all over you. If you let it happen once, it opens up the opportunity for everyone else to do the same. You have to stand up for yourself or people will take advantage of you for the rest of your life.

So, I enter the stall and latch the door. The floor is flooded with a combination of urine and water. The toilet itself is only about five inches high, and it doesn't flush. There is also no toilet paper. There is only a little faucet to my right that I can use clean myself off (ewwww). I am thoroughly disgusted by this point. Oh, here is the best part. I exit the stall, and go over to the sink to wash my hands. There is no hot water. And there is also no soap. Where is some hand sanitizer when you need it??!?

I exit the bathroom and begin to walk briskly in the direction that I think I'm supposed to go. I don't recognize any of this. There are little shops all around me, cars, carts, and trucks whizzing past me, and people everywhere. I walk for several blocks, getting more and more panicked as I go. I don't remember having to walk this far from the bus stop to get to the bathroom. I turn around. Still, nothing looks familiar. I consider turning down one of the smaller streets, but then think the better of it. I know the bus station is on this street. I try to think clearly, but all I can think of is the fact that I am lost in a foreign country, with no knowledge of the language or how to get home. Maybe I should go back to the building where I used the bathroom? My group will be looking for me there, eventually. But I am too proud - I have to find the way on my own.

It's hard to think rationally when you're lost. I began plotting out worst-case scenario strategies. If I can't find my group, or if the bus leaves without me, I will find someone who speaks English who can direct me to a bus that will take me to Bangkok, where I will somehow catch my flight on Tuesday on my own. My luggage isn't with me. I only have 20 U.S. dollars on me. At least I have my passport. As I'm walking back the direction from which I came, I notice a median in the road with a small building and some people. There is also a bus near it. This looks vaguely familiar. My eyes scan for something or someone that I recognize. Suddenly, I see Landon and Abraham - I have found my way back! My hands are shaking, and my heart is beating wildly. I'm filled with relief.

The same man who'd pointed to the bathroom tells us it's time to board our next bus. Only it isn't a bus at all. It is a 15 seater van. If it weren't for all of our luggage, the twelve of us passengers would fit more than comfortably. However, we are squeezed in together tightly, with bags on our laps, by our feet, and on either side of us.

Only a few minutes into the ride, the man in front of my seat decides that everyone in the vehicle wants to listen to his music.

Oh you want to play that game, huh?

I whip out my phone and turn on good ole' LMFAO - Party Rock Anthem. I make sure the volume is as high as it can go. I need to send a message to the man in front of me that not everyone wants to listen to his stupid pop music (not that all pop music is stupid; but this particular song was).

The song ends and we all get quiet to see if he's turned off his music yet. He still hasn't. I don't want to piss off everyone in the van more than they probably already are, so I refrain from playing another song. But Mike has a better idea. He turns on Boston's "More Than a Feeling", and plays it all the way through. When it's finished, he says, "Your turn, up front!" gesturing to the man, but the man by this point has more or less gotten the hint. Rather than playing music, he watches a quiet movie for the rest of the ride to Bangkok. Epic win.

I'm convinced that our driver is a maniac. He is swerving through traffic, passing all the other cars, and at times getting up to speeds of probably 100 mph or more. I don't see any speed limit signs, and we don't get pulled over. So I wonder if this road is just a free-for-all. It's a dangerous one though; we pass a really bad car accident on our way. This doesn't slow down our driver, however.

We finally arrive back at K.T. Guest house at 9:30 - 15 hours after we'd left Phnom Penh this morning.



Some things I can't wait to do when I get back to civilization:

1. Eat a Wendy's cheeseburger
2. Give my baby sister a big hug
3. Wear high heels
4. Take a hot shower
5. Curl my hair
6. Sleep in my own bed

Some things I'm not really looking forward to when I get home:

1. Make-up homework for my Post Production class
2. Going back to work right away
3. Opening my mailbox, which is probably overflowing by now
4. Jet lag
5. Snow / cold weather

Day Nine: The Killing Fields

Ahhh…there’s nothing like the feeling of a cold shower to wake you up at six in the morning.

Today is going to be awesome.

We leave the teamhouse at 8:30 a.m. sharp, and take the forty-five minute journey via tuk-tuk to a place called Choeung Ke, or “The Killing Fields”.

The Killing Fields is a place where tens of thousands of Cambodians were killed between 1976 and 1979, during the reign of Pol Pot. They were all buried in mass graves. Men, women, and even young children were all brutally murdered here, for no good reason. Thousands of human skulls are stacked for all to see the atrocity that occurred here. One out of every four people in Cambodia were killed during this time. Everyone here over the age of 40 knows at least a few people that were killed here in the late 70’s. Because of this, basically everyone in this country suffers from post traumatic stress disorder.

Ok, so that story is kind of a downer. Sorry. But it is a huge part of Cambodia’s history.

Bones people have found around the fields:


All of these holes represent mass graves that have been dug up:


We see all these teeth on the ground:


This is a leaf from a big palm tree-looking plant. The leaves are razor sharp. They used to slit the throats of the people to kill them with these leaves:




Pile of skulls:


Clothes of the bodies in the graves are rising up to the surface:


Today is day nine out of twelve of our trip. This trip is wrapping up and coming to an end. It will be over before we know it. Thinking about this makes me sad, because I love this place and the people in it. I want to just love and take care of all of the children here that don’t have a family. But I know that this is just not possible to do.

Our next adventure is the Russian Market. It is a big, indoor market with hundreds of shops in it. There are clothes, shoes, scares, jewelry, food, purses, souvenirs, etc. – basically everything you could ever need. We go our separate ways and track down our kill. I find some awesome souvenirs and we meet up after a few hours. Everyone walks away with at least a couple of souvenirs – success!





Now we’re thirsty and hot. We round the corner and hit up Sophea, a cheap restaurant that has incredible smoothies. If you ever get the chance to try an Orange-Banana-Passion Fruit-Pineapple Juice smoothie…do it.

And now, it is time for the moment we’ve all been waiting for. It is four p.m. The sun is poised low in the sky, getting ready to set in a couple of hours. The time lapse shot: it is happening now.

Landon, Abraham, and I pile into the tuk-tuk. The rest of the group stays behind (their loss). We have already picked out the location. It looks like this:



Yeah, you know you’re jealous.

The time lapse turns out AMAZING. Better than I ever thought possible. While the camera is running, a group of kids come over and start playing close to where the camera is shooting. I do what has to be done, to prevent them from ruining my precious shot. Instinctively, my iPhone comes out of my pocket. I motion for the kids to come over. All I can think of is it’s a good thing I have Angry Birds on here.



This distracts the kids for a good, long while. Although there is countless Angry Birds merchandise all over Cambodia, I doubt these kids have ever actually played the game. I show them how to play and then let them take over. One boy takes it in his hands, and the others watch as he plays. At first, he doesn’t understand how to work the catapult, but he catches on quickly. By the time we leave, he’s already beaten like 13 levels.

Once we get back the rest of the group piles back into our tuk-tuk and we are taken to Mike’s Burgers, which we have been told serves the best burgers in the world.

They’re really good. In-N-Out is still better though.

Landon has to spit out four of five pieces of hamburger, because they “weren’t chewable”. I guess it’s probably hard for restaurants to find good quality meat here in Cambodia, since they pretty much always keep the tendons and fat in the hamburger meat when they prepare it.

When we return to the teamhouse, we pack up all our stuff and get it all ready to be out of here early tomorrow morning. We have a LONG bus ride to Bangkok tomorrow…

Day Eight: Last Day at the Orphanage

It is 5:50 a.m. I sit on the roof of our teamhouse, waiting for the sun to rise. It is still dark, but I am beginning to see some pink on the horizon. I see a man out jogging. I hear the putter of the tuk-tuks, scooters, and dirt bikes on the streets below. The city is just beginning to wake. A rooster crows to my left. It's so peaceful at this hour, when no one is around. Ten minutes later, the city seems to have woken, and bustles around, becoming increasingly noisy.

I'm up on the roof trying to get a time lapse of the sunrise over Phnom Penh. It doesn't work. I'll have to catch the sunset tonight.

Judah is organizing and building a farm in one of the rural areas of Phnom Penh. Today, we visit the farm to get some shots of it for the documentary. The documentary is on human trafficking and child prostitution, but we want to include what Judah is doing to help. The farm is there to provide more of an income to provide for the orphans, as well as to help feed the orphans.









Next, we eat a quick lunch then make our way back to the orphanage. We set up the shot and then everyone clears out except for Judah and Landon. We'd decided last night that this would probably help the people we're interviewing feel more comfortable opening up.

Once I've finished helping set up the shot, I go inside to hang out with the orphans. One girl is holding a baby wearing nothing but a diaper who looks to be about 18 months old. The baby is crying, and the girl is frustrated. I walk in, just as she shakes her slightly in exasperation and exclaims, "Stop crying!" .

"Can I take her?" I ask as I hold out my arms. She nods and gives her to me. The baby's name is Deborah, and she actually isn't a baby at all. She's four years old, and she has something like cerebral palsy. She can't walk or talk, she isn't pottytrained, and she is tiny. As soon as I pick her up, she stops crying. I hold her for what seems like no time at all, until the girl takes Deborah back from me.

I look around and I see a girl, whose name escapes me. She's sitting against the wall, and there are tears in her eyes. I sit next to her and wrap my arms around her.

"Why are you sad?" I ask her. She doesn't answer. She doesn't even look up. I don't think she understands me, or if she does, she doesn't know enough English to express herself. We sit there for a while, my arms wrapped around her. Kids need so much love, and these ones just don't seem to get enough of it. Another baby girl is writhing on the floor, crying. She is sleepy. I pick her up and she falls asleep on my lap. Then Henn, a boy of thirteen, comes over and sits down next to me. Now I am surrounded by kids. I could die happy right now.


















We stay at the orphanage for maybe an hour, then make our plans to leave. I could have stayed the rest of the day, but there are more things to do. I still haven't seen the Vietnamese floating village yet with my own eyes. Also, it is imperative that I get a time lapse of the sunset tonight!!!! Every night this week, I've tried to do it, but something always gets in the way.

We board a boat. It has two stories: a lower level, and the deck. I am determined to get some sun while I'm here, to prove that I was actually here. It works. I get an awesome farmers tan from sitting up there. Well I suppose this farmers tan got started today on the farm, then got more prevalent on my right side when we were riding in the tuk-tuks. Now I just have to even it out. We float by the floating village. There are kids, buck-naked, jumping in the river and playing. Many are pulling in their giant nets to gather up their catch for the day. Others just stay inside their tiny covered boats, where they live, to stay cool.

According to Judah, this right here is a brothel:


It is getting close to sunset. Mike knows how important this shot is to me, so he rushes everyone back to the tuk-tuks so we can hurry and get home.

In spite of our best efforts to hurry, the sun sets on our way home. The time lapse is postponed. Again.

We go out to eat dinner at another internet cafe, then head home. Landon comes into the girls' room and we all participate in one of our very interesting conversations.

Day Seven: I Recognize that Pile of Garbage

Part I:

I'd crashed in my bed last night fully clothed again, hat on and all. That was around ten pm. I wake up at five a.m. I'm not tired anymore, so I get out my laptop and start writing some more. Allie wakes up two hours later, at seven a.m. and showers first. As of tomorrow, I will officially be out of clean clothes. We'd been promised that there would be a laundry service here, but just like everything else we were told before we came here, this too was a falsehood. I have to take matters into my own hands.

I step into the shower, fully clothed. I turn the metal knob to the left and water begins to spurt out of the shower head. We don't get warm water here. It isn't ice cold, but it definitely is cooler than what I'd call luke-warm. It feels even colder on your skin when you're fully dressed. I feel like I'm having an impromptu water fight....with myself.



8:20 a.m: Breakfast at Jars of Clay. We're becoming regulars at this place. They have the best milkshakes and stuffed croissant sandwiches. And free Wi-fi, which is always a plus. The guys finish up quickly and take off. They're going back to The Building to see if they'll have more luck with interviewing some of the people there without us girls getting in the way.

We go back to our air conditioned room at the team house to work on asset management (organizing our footage and photos), better interview questions (the ones we've been using haven't extracted the right information from the interviewees), and scripting the documentary. Compared to the rest of the trip, today feels like kind of a lazy day. I am grateful for this break, until the guys come back and share with us what we've missed. After the building, they passed a Vietnamese floating village and took some incredible shots of it, like the one below.



Let's see if I can remember this correctly. During the Vietnam war, Vietnam and Cambodia were at odds with each other. Some of the Vietnamese, however, sided with the Cambodians. So those Vietnamese were kicked out. But, Cambodians didn't want any Vietnamese living on Cambodia soil. So now they all live on house boats on a river. I thought that was pretty interesting.

While the guys had been gone, we'd also done some exploring of the teamhouse. We couldn't believe what we'd found - a washing machine! I could have died of happiness, knowing that we could have clean clothes for the rest of the trip. (The clothes I'd washed this morning in the shower were still pretty smelly.)

At three p.m., we have an interview scheduled with Randy, the boys' house leader.

He doesn't show.

He'd made some excuse to some other people as to why he can't make it, who came and told us. Of course, we know that the real reason is that, just as was the case with Holly's girls, he doesn't want to feel like he's exploiting any of those kids. Man, these people don't make it easy to work with them. We decide to ditch this organization and move on to a different one who will actually appreciate what we're trying to do for them.

Part II: My Favorite Part of the Day

It is five o'clock. We have some interviews scheduled over at Judah's orphanage. We take a tuk-tuk about 5 kilometers and pull up at a very colorful gate that had been undoubtedly painted by the kids. The moment we arrive, we are greeted by dozens of little tiny smiling faces. Before we can even exit the tuk-tuk, they're climbing all over on it, on us. They're smiling and saying, "Hello!" and hugging us. The youngest is only about a year old, and the oldest is in his teens. They're all orphans. The average age, from what I can see, looks to be about five, or maybe seven. Whatever the actual age, they're all very young. I start snapping pictures, and they LOVE it. Every time I take one, they all run over to me and gather around as I show them the picture. Then they run back and pose again. I take a few hundred pictures, then decide to go help my team, who is already filming an interview.

As usual, no one wants to open up. No one wants to admit they were a prostitute. It is shameful here, and people don't like to talk about it. We decide to move indoors for some more privacy. We interview Nalan, one of the leaders here at the orphanage, who was sold into prostitution at the age of six, and wasn't rescued from street life until the age of sixteen. It is a hard story to hear, and difficult for her to share. She starts to cry as she delves into some more of the details of life on the streets. My heart breaks for what some of these people have to go through.

We all give Nalan a hug. We just have to; she looks like she needs so much love. They all do. We schedule a time to return tomorrow afternoon for some interviews with more people, and then depart the orphanage. All the kids give us hugs and climb all over us before we leave. I can't help but love every single one of them.











3rd World Skateboard:




This is Joo; she's the one I want to take home most:


All thee kids are fascinated with our cameras:


Our tuk-tuk takes us back to our teamhouse. We set out in search of a place to eat. Mike wants "street food", or food from a street vendor. We walk all over the place, and no one seems to be able to make up their minds. I finally decide that I would rather eat at The Coffee House, across the street from Jars of Clay. So, we split up. Us girls eat at The Coffee House, and the boys will keep looking for something new to try.

We finish at nine p.m. We hadn't eaten much. The three of us begin walking in the general direction of our teamhouse, not paying full attention to exactly where we are or where we need to turn. I think we all had been counting on each other to lead the way. The problem with this place is, everything looks the same. It's all these narrow streets with crumbling sidewalks and rusty gates in front of each house. We're totally lost. None of us have kept track of how far we've been walking, or where we turned or where supposed to turn. Suddenly--

"I recognize that pile of garbage!" Allie exclaims.

So we find our way home, using an apparently unique pile of garbage as a landmark.

Once we arrive, we realize the guys have the only key, and we are locked out of the house. Oh, and we have NO idea where the guys are. Great.

We can't just stand the on the street like a bunch of hookers...so we begrudgingly make our way to Water of Life.

"We're locked out," we tell them. "Do you guys have a spare key?" Lon finds one for us and walks us back. Lon is a local, but he speaks almost like an American, with only a slight accent. He says five years ago, he couldn't speak a single word of English. Now he's completely fluent. This is amazing to me.

He unlocks our gate and lets us in. I can't wait to climb into bed and sleep for a looong time. My head hits the pillow and soon, I am fast asleep...

"Creeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaakkkk," I wake up to the bone-chilling sound of our fan turning from side to side. My eyes open. It is HOT IN HERE. Two things about our room: there is a fan, and there is an air conditioning. So far, we haven't been using the fan at ALL because of the noise it makes. It's literally like nails on a chalkboard. I clumsily climb down from my bunk bed and locate the air conditioning remote. I fumble around with it and try to turn it on. It doesn't come on. I try all the buttons. No luck. Uuuuuughh! It is So. Damn. Hot. I give up on getting any sleep for the rest of the night, annoyed that the A/C won't work. Then, fifteen minutes before I'm planning on waking up, Allie wakes up and pushes the "Power" button on the remote, just like I did before. The air comes on.

Seriously??!?!?!?

Day Six: Misunderstandings and Miscommunications.

Today is the long awaited day in which we get to meet with the orphans; or the girls who have been rescued from the sex trade. We leave Landon, Mike, and Abraham behind. We're told that the girls will open up more if there are no boys there. We tour the girls' house, then sit down in their common room. They are having bible study. We read Psalms 25, then all the girls take turns bearing their testimony. I can't believe how strong these girls are. They have so much hope. So much love. They've all been through so much, and overcome so much. I am amazed by their strength.

Where we're sitting at the girls' house is COVERED in ants. Little tiny baby ones. They are all over my chair. Soon, they are all over ME. But I can't do or say anything because everyone else sitting in that room probably has just as many ants all over them. Be strong, Jessica.

Our plan is to interview the girls and find out their stories. Simple enough, right? We had been assured before we ever left the U.S that this would be possible. We turn the conversation to the subject of the documentary. We ask Holly, the girls' house leader, if we can ask the girls some questions about their past. She nixes that idea immediately. She also tells us no pictures and no video, to protect the girls. It's as if they think we're exploiting them or something. The thing is, she told us last night that it would be fine to film them, to talk to them, and to ask them questions. Now we're finding out that we're not allowed to interview ANY of the girls. Why are we even here?!!?! After I think about it for a while, I realize that Holly tricked us, or lured us into coming over by promising us an interview. Then once she had us there, they bore their testimonies and shared with us their Christian beliefs, then encouraged us to share as well. They were trying to help us "find Jesus". Tricky bastards.

Today is the hottest day of the trip so far: 93° F and 74% humidity. We are all drenched in sweat. I don't think there is a square inch of my body that does not have at least some sweat on it. There are also mosquitoes everywhere. I haven't quite been eaten alive yet, but in spite of my best efforts to prevent mosquito bites, they still happen.

We thank Holly and the girls, and exit the premises. We need to go pow-wow with the guys. There is silence for the first 30 seconds of our walk. We're all waiting to be out of earshot of Holly's place. The moment we are, the three of us start ranting at once.

"--Why are we even here?!?--"

"--I'm going to KILL Judah--"

"--Is it too late to change the subject of our documentary?--"

"--They PROMISED us that we could interview the girls!--"

"--So, be basically came all this way for nothing!--"

"--Let's just go home now, since no one will let us accomplish anything."

We're discouraged because all we've gotten so far on this trip is B-roll footage. We basically only have two more days after today to get the footage we need. Then we meet up in Thailand with the other group that we came here with. We feel the day is wasted. We round the corner, still ranting to each other, and run into Mike and the other guys. We start all over again on our rant, telling him what happened and what we weren't able to get. We vent to him all our frustrations about the footage we still don't have, and won't be able to get. So far, this documentary is going to suck. It will be nothing but a tour of Cambodia, with a lot of shots of just the street out of the back of the tuk-tuks. LAME.

Mike listens patiently, the sets off to go resolve some of our issues. We need to talk to Randy, who is in charge of the orphanages, to see if he won't change his mind about the interviews. We also have an interview with Rin, a very charismatic and talented 30 year old Cambodian who is a teacher and mentor at the boys' orphanage. He speaks English well, and he is willing to be interviewed about his past.

His father abandoned him when he was very young, and his mother died a few years later. He was taken into the home of some relatives, but they abused him and made him feel worthless. He ran away and lived out on the streets, turning to a life of gambling and cheating, stealing, and prostituting himself for money. Male prostitutes here aren't like what you might think. Women don't pay them for sex. It is the men who take advantage of their services. I won't go into detail.

The whole interview is cinematic gold. Success.

This is Rin:


We interview Solomon, another local with a similar story. He doesn't speak English as well as Rin, and he isn't as open about certain aspects of his past, but it is still footage we can use. Another success.

Today isn't totally wasted after all. In fact, we got more done today than we have so far on this trip. We go eat dinner at a Thai restaurant. They serve yellow water there. I decide to be brave and try it. It tastes exactly like popcorn flavored jelly beans.



Mike orders a plate of what looks like testicles of some animal. No, thank you. He assures me it's delicious. Nah, I'm good. Now everyone at the table is staring at me, waiting for me to try one. Fine. I'll cave to peer pressure. I take one and put it in my mouth, chewing slowly. It's pretty good. Tastes like sausage.

We then make our way to Jars of Clay, the internet cafe, for some desserts and free Wi-fi. Mike is happy with how the day turned out, in spite of our stumbling blocks. He pays for all of our desserts. We are all in an especially good mood tonight. We're all laughing and joking and teasing each other. This is the best mood anyone has been in this whole trip. Before this trip, we were okay friends. In my case, I didn't know anyone except Mike before Fall Semester began. This trip has forced us to all get to know each other on a deeper level, and now we're like a family. We've seen each other's grumpy sides, but we still like each other. We've had to share some tight spaces. We've squeezed in uncomfortably close to each other when the situation called for it. We've been there for each other on bumpy bus rides, when we're tired and we need a shoulder to rest our head on. We know way too much about each other at this point, but it only makes me like everyone more.

Stairs that lead to nowhere:


Girls from Children of Hope orphanage sitting on a shelf outside their bedroom:


Kids at school, writing in Khmer:




Some observations of Cambodia:

- Maximum capacity of a scooter: five people.

- Maximum capacity of a small sized tuk-tuk: As many as are willing to pile on each others' laps, or up to 8. Just know that the more you pile in, the slower the tuk-tuk will go. Ours yesterday could only go about 15 mph.

- All the staircases here are incredibly steep, and each stair is really narrow. I have to turn my feet sideways as I walk down the stairs, because my big, giant American foot is too big for each stair. Landon made the point that it is because they don't have the luxury of laying out a ton of room for a regular sized staircase. Everything basically has to go straight up.

- There are dogs everywhere, just roaming the streets. You get used to how it is in America, where everyone keeps their dogs indoors, behind a fence, or on a leash. If you did that here, people would think you were crazy.

- Everyone wears hot pink, all the time--even the guys. Especially the guys. Giant buildings here are painted completely hot pink. Pink is everywhere. I love this country. Why can't it be like that in the U.S.?

- Everyone wears shorts and flip flops here. Even the construction workers. I saw one construction worker today in a tank top, shorts, and flip flops, with a giant beanie looking thing covering his face, with eye holes cut out. He was welding something. Someone needs to come over here and teach these people about safety.

- These people have nothing, but they smile all the time. I think these people are happier with their nothing than we are with our everything.


Smells of Cambodia:

- Dog
- Human feces
- Incense
- Dog
- Thai food that has been sitting out for several days
- Human feces

I've also picked up on some Khmer (pronounced K'my):

Thank you: akun
Hello: sosadai
Good luck: sosabai
Sorry/Excuse me: sumto
Goodbye: lehi
No: atay

(Note: The spellings are probably way off, but google translate doesn't translate to Khmer, so I couldn't look up proper spelling.)

Day Five:

It is a new day. We are awoken at 8:15 a.m. Mike and Judah have left to go check out a potential location to shoot at. We get ready for the day and then offload our files onto our hard drives. It takes us a while - the hard drives are getting full. Finally, we're ready by ten a.m. Abraham meets us downstairs and the five of us set out to find breakfast.

This is our first real glimpse of Phnom Penh. Yesterday doesn't count because what we saw of the city was under the cover of darkness. We have no idea where we're going. You can't just walk into any restaurant here; the food can't always be trusted. And since we know virtually none of the language, we need to make sure we find a place where they speak or understand at least some English. We circle the block and make our way back to our teamhouse for directions. There, we meet Ping, a local boy of thirteen, wearing a preppy blue shirt and some matching plaid shorts, who offers to be our guide. He takes us to Jars of Clay, a restaurant affiliated with Judah's organization. There, we partake in the best food I've had thus far in our journey.

Water of Life is the name of the orphanage we visit first. We meet Nita, who loves getting her picture taken. She cuddles up to me as we look at the pictures I've taken of her.

I want to take her home with me.

We leave the orphanage in a tuk-tuk and it drops us off about ten blocks from the restaurant where we plan on eating. The first block, we meet several kids carrying baskets, selling some merchandise.

"You buy? Only three for one dollah," one boy offers, looking at me. I tell him no, thank you. He asks again. And again. We start walking away, and he follows us. The whole time, he is talking.

"You buy, three for one dollah. You buy. One dollah, for three."

No matter how many times I tell him no, and no matter how far from his store we walk, he keeps following me and asking me to buy from him. Well, as long as he is here, I decide to strike up a conversation with him.

"What's your name?"

"Ching."

"How old are you, Ching?"

"Ten."

"You speak pretty good English."

"Yes, because I go to school."

"Oh yeah? What grade are you in?"

"3."

He is cute. I could take this one home with me too. He finally breaks me down.

"Okayyy, what are you selling?" I finally ask. He knew when he first saw me the sucker that I am. I find a bracelet that I like in his basket and realize at the same time that my smallest bill is a $10. He doesn't have change. I apologize and start walking again. He follows us all ten blocks to the restaurant. I snap a picture him from behind - if he knew I'd taken the photo, he would expect me to pay him for it.



We eat lunch at a place called Sugar and Spice cafe. It is a restaurant that helps girls and boys get out of prostitution. All the workers there are young people that have been rescued out of prostitution. We make a group decision to go back there and interview some of the girls.

Part II: The Building

We set out for a place called "The Building". Even the title sounds ominous. The place itself is even more ominous than it sounds. The Building is a place full of children and young women who sell their bodies for money, that all the locals seem to know about. We get in our tuk-tuk and tell the driver, "The Building," and he knows exactly where to go. This is the building:



We climb the first set of stairs and start making our way down a long, dark hallway. It smells of dog and piss. I can't see my hand in front of my face. At times I get the feeling that there is someone standing against the wall as I pass, watching me. I keep walking and try to stay with the group. A group of old ladies sitting on the floor are gambling and giving us the stink-eye.



Judah talks to a lot of the people we pass in the halls, asking if there are any girls here that sell their bodies that are willing to be interviewed. An old woman lets us in her house and is willing to talk to us, but doesn't admit any knowledge about the prostitution that goes on here.



We search around some more, and talk to a few people, but the general consensus is that because of Chinese New Year, everyone is away, visiting their families. We get back in the tuk-tuk and head back home.

There is a lot of traffic. While we're stopped behind a line of cars, a girl that couldn't be older than seven or eight approaches our tuk-tuk from the sidewalk. She looks at Judah and offers "yum-yum". Yum-yum is what they call oral sex. Words can't express the sadness that I am filled with when I look into her eyes. She is so young, so innocent. She doesn't know that what she is doing is bad. Her parents tell her that this is what she needs to do to help support the family. If I met those parents, I would probably murder them.

We return to Water of Life, where the boys stay. All the girls and boys are there for worship. Accompanied by the piano, everyone sings Christian songs and takes turns reading from the Bible. Nita, a little tiny girl with big brown eyes, cuddles with me on my lap.



Then I find out Nita has TB. Crap. I probably have it now.