Rob didn’t call it a wedding, since Nathan and Minori had already been married officially at city hall, but we recognized it as a Canadian wedding despite not understanding a word of the ceremony. So this is the wedding of Rob and Keiko Witmer’s son, Nathan, who owns the little Farmer’s Café where we’ve been eating in Nayoro.

We discovered today that the guest list and the party had been kept a  secret from Minori. We could so easily have spilled the beans yesterday when we had lunch at the restaurant! As far as she knew, there would be a small simple ceremony at the Dohoku Christian Centre with immediate family in attendance.

Interesting for us to attend a Japanese wedding, even if not typical, and lucky for us to be here on this date, when we could see many of the people we knew in 1992-93. Somewhat deflating, though, when so many appeared not to recognize us. The former minister of Nayoro church and his wife, who had given us such a warm send-off in 1993, don’t appear to remember us at all. Ashizawa-Sensei (the Rev) didn’t give any glimmer of recognition and when I talked to Mrs Ashizawa (with Keiko’s translation help), she couldn’t remember me nor the recipe she taught me, which I have made many times and which I submitted to Jurgen Gothe’s latest cookbook.

The bride did get decked out in a typical Canadian white wedding dress-no hint of Japanese red kimono, or any other colours in between-and the groom wore a shimmery cream tux. Nathan’s family kept the bride closeted away in the room we’ve been using as a bedroom, since “our” kitchen-living area was full of food for the party and the Dohoku Centre cafeteria at the other end of the building was filling with more friends and family than Minori could imagine.

We slipped into the room just before 1:30 and it was standing room only. Shortly after, Rob in his black preaching robes and Nathan in his gleaming tux entered and stood at the front. The bride arrived on her father’s arm and walked down the short aisle, a white tablecloth spread on the floor for her.

We sang “What a friend we have in Jesus” and “The Church’s One Foundation,” heard I Corinthians 13, and listened to Rob preach (all in Japanese, of course). I haven’t had a chance to ask Rob what he preached, but as usual it was interesting to listen to for his intonation, gestures, and obvious enthusiasm. (Kuriko told us yesterday that Rob was suffering from withdrawal for not having been able to preach since April.) Obvious
emotion, too, particularly in the closing lines.

The bride and groom left the room to Mendelssohn’s wedding march, reappearing several minutes later. The room was rearranged to accommodate several tables of sushi and other Japanese delicacies, made in large part by the groom’s siblings Manna and Martin. It’s cantaloupe season (right, Maria?) and both orange and green were in abundance. It’s also blueberry and raspberry season, both of which (from Rob and Keiko’s back yard) decorated the wedding cake.

And there were speeches: from a friend of the bride’s and from a friend of the groom’s. The groom’s siblings sang (accompanied by the groom on his father’s guitar). The groom and a friend sang, although emotion took Nathan by surprise and he missed a few bars.

The whole family showed its emotions today-certainly appropriate to the occasion, if a bit of a surprise for us. Nathan and Martin, in particular, 14 and 11 in ’92-93, had kept their distance from us; perhaps afraid they’d need to use their English, which they seemed to be denying knowledge of at the time. Today, Nathan was quite overcome several times, especially when a young man two years his junior gave a speech and then sang a song he’d written describing what a hero Nathan had been to him as a young boy. In empathy, the bride cried as well, so many tears her false eyelashes came off. But the bride and groom-in true Japanese style-didn’t touch, with an empty chair between–each sitting with tears flowing, sniffling as inconspicuously as they could …but never touching.

Finally, Nathan rose to say a word of thanks (his father whispering to us that he doubted Nathan could get through such a speech). Indeed, it was a challenge, but Nathan persisted and in the end did a fine job (as far as we could tell-everything happening as it did in Japanese).

By 4 p.m., the room had to be cleared to return to its function as a cafeteria for the Dohoku Centre Fukushikai (residence for former mental patients), so the ending, as it often does in Japan, came quickly. The gathering of about 55 people was informed of the deadline; within minutes the room was transformed into a cafeteria and the crowd had dispersed. On their way out, each guest was presented with a bouquet of wild flowers twisted into a newspaper cone.

The bride and groom changed into street clothes and, standing outside, handed out wedding favours-jars of citrus jam made by friends at a local factory. And Minori kept saying, “I’m so happy; I’m so happy!”

Indeed, the surprise had worked very well.

So, it was a simple, home-made wedding, the details planned (so we learned) within the past week once Manna and Martin had arrived from Dubai and Tokyo, respectively. Before that, Nathan was constrained by his desire to keep the guest list and party secret from Minori, from whom he is rarely separated. Sunday, Nathan and Minori return to work in the Farmer’s Cafe. Today’s Saturday closing is the first day the restaurant has been closed in two years. They may dream of taking a honeymoon someday, but not for a while yet.

We stood outside in the pleasant sunshine and visited with a friend of Nathan’s who took ESL classes at Grant MacEwan Community College in Edmonton many years ago and aspires to immigrate to Mongolia.

When we returned to our livingroom, Keiko and Rob were just packing away the last few wedding leftovers and within minutes were following the rest of the guests out of the Dohoku Centre, back to town.

Alone again in this ground level apartment in a mixed deciduous and pine forest, surrounded by a quiet evening, we are,
Margaret and Marcus
in between

Inside the living room, about 20 senior family members circled the long narrow room to observe the “conversation” between the bride-to-be’s parents and the groom-to-be’s parents, to listen to the clergyman’s intonation of commitment between the parents, long before there was any sign of Marta or Thearith. Thearith appeared first. Coming in from the back of the room, he knelt before his parents in his navy suit with long-sleeved shirt and tie, bowed many times to them and to Marta’s parents. Eventually, Marta appeared, coming in from the kitchen at the front of the room. She looked much older in make-up and a spectacular hairdo. She too bowed to her parents and his, usually in sets of three. 

Marcus and I were standing and sitting outside the living room in a sheltered ante-room to the house, sweltering in the heat, despite a cross breeze. I can’t imagine how hot it was in the living room …with the addition of a camera-man’s lights.

Fortunately, Veery, an LWF Cambodia Community Empowerment Officer from Samaki Meanchey, also attended and was able to help us understand what was happening and who these people were (her mother was among the important guests seated in the living room). 

Eventually the ceremony was complete and brunch was served–as usual a wonderful feast of Khmer dishes (rice, of course; seafood and green mango salad, grilled fish, sour soup, fermented fish and vegetables). There had been an earlier suggestion that Marta’s sisters Molika and Linda could help us with interpretation but with 200 guests at home, they had their hands full. Vannary, Saya (Mr Vannary), Molika, and Linda could be spotted for the next hour dashing from one table to another making sure everyone had food and drink. 

After we were well and truly fed, we managed to talk for a few minutes with fiancée and fiancé. Marta still likes to believe that we’ll come back next year for her wedding. 

Later we were able to hive Vannary, Molika, and Linda off from the crowd and present Vannary with a farewell gift and the girls with some of our household effects–silicone spatulas (an unknown kitchen utensil here), a copy of Canadian Living, a Canadian flag, a bag of toothbrushes, some Japanese curry roux, and a jar of cashew butter. All received with cries of delight. 

And then the time came to say goodbye. Heart-wrenching for all. Tears were shed, even by the newly engaged Marta, who could barely afford to cry with all that make-up. Marcus expressed concern about that and lightened the mood for a minute, but there was still the walk to the tuktuk and a final embrace before we pulled away.

We came home to prepare for the shipping company’s arrival to take charge of two of our suitcases, leaving us one each for the Japan leg. Marcus wants me to describe the Keystone Movers to you, but words fail. We had our two bags packed and ready when they arrived. And by coincidence, Mrs Kim Lay had just arrived to give us a VERY generous gift and so stayed to make sure these young men kept everything above board. In the end, SHE walked away with an information package on the company. 

While they began unpacking Marcus’s bag because of its dimensions, we kept repeating that the bag had to go, too. One of the young men went back to the office to get a bigger box that the suitcase would fit into, so the box of Marcus’s things was unpacked and put in the longer box. With some effort, the empty bag was then stuffed into the box and the box was taped shut. 

A calculator was called for and some figures related to the volume resulted in a decision to repack the box. Well, at least to open it up and remove a few items. 

In the meantime, much the same had happened to my suitcase. Unpacked into one box that was too big, so repacked into a box that was …ooops, too small… just a minute, can we use that box? So eventually, all my things –and my empty suitcase– ended up in another box that we had brought from the office to pack things for Rachel. 

The calculations on this smaller box revealed that it was one kg short of its minimum weight charge. So, we’d have to pay for 16 kg, even if there were only 15 kg in it. Okay, we’ll send our package of important papers (except the travel documents and the health info). Much to our surprise it weighed 1.5 kg! Glad we aren’t lugging that through Japan.

About two hours after ACI’s arrival, both suitcases and their contents (but outside, not inside) were packed into two separate boxes, weighed, and the invoice was calculated: 49.5 kg at $12.54 / kg to Canada, door to door (in our case, Tim’s door). But Someth had told us he’d negotiated $12.40. Another calculation. Okay. It’s still amazing since any other shipping option, by sea or by DHL, was three to four times this price.

We had cringed occasionally as our careful folding and arranging was abandoned to squeeze everything into the boxes. Not to worry: when these boxes, stuffed and taped, arrive at the office …get this… they will all be unpacked, itemized, and repacked! Very carefully, he assures us. VERY carefully. And then, some day next week, they’ll be loaded on a plane and sent to Edmonton.

We barely had time to rest when Boran arrived for our last tuktuk ride to church. A typically musically boisterous service, with a new priest, but at announcement time our departure was shared, much to my surprise. It was very gratifying to have so many people, even some we don’t know, come to say goodbye and wish us well. It was a fine send-off from one of the rich experiences of this adventure. 

For our final restaurant meal, we returned to one of our first fine restaurant meals–to Anise, just down the street from the Golden Gate Hotel where we spent our first days and nights in Phnom Penh.

Back at home, yet another heartfelt farewell from Boran who warmly shook our hands and mustered his best English to “wish [us] happy happy.” 

We could only reply, “You, too”
and head for one last sleep 
as M&M in Phnom Penh

At noon we left to come home for lunch. hoping we might eat with Maly, but of course she’d have none of that. She made the most wonderful chicken curry soup with Khmer rice noodles and lots of fresh vegetables: chopped cucumber, sliced green onion, bean sprouts, and the usual mix of green leaves (basil, mint, and others unknown) to be piled on top. Dragonfruit for dessert. We gave instructions for Monday, indicating that we’d be packing some things to ship home on Saturday, and packing the rest into boxes on Sunday for LWF and her to pick up on Monday. She’ll come in on Monday to do one last laundry and then pack the sheets and towels into a box for Rachel’s arrival in September. We then presented our token of appreciation–which left her (and me) speechless for awhile.

To back up for a moment, Maly had stayed late on Tuesday so that she’d be here when we got home from work. Her gift to us was some clothing in traditional Khmer cloth that she’d had tailored for us–a shirt for Marcus and a pantsuit for me. That’s the first time we were speechless!

After heartfelt goodbyes today, we left Maly to make one last trip to our salon. Manicures and pedicures all around, but I decided to get a “shampoo and blowesdry” as the sign says–to dress up for the occasion of our farewell. Somehow she managed to make me look ten years older–I think she had one of the Queen’s hairdos in mind. 

Boran picked us up and tuktuked us back to the apartment to change into party dress and then back to the office for a few hours of clearing up files and — d r u m   r o l l   p l e a s e — the arrival of the first 500 copies of Angkar L: A short history of LWF Cambodia 1979-2007 by Marcus Busch. Ratna was even more excited than Marcus to have this arrive within two hours of our departure! Ratna and I both rushed down with our cameras to see Marcus take the last packages out of the delivery tuktuk. The remaining 1500 on order will arrive next week, but at least we have a dozen to bring home with us. 

And finally the “small farewells” party. Some of you may not be surprised that technology failed us for some time–the projector not cooperating with a planned showing of our photos taken on assignment to the projects. But the rest of the presentations were low-tech, each of us with notes in hand. Sam Inn, the Deputy Representative made a speech that began, “In 1979…” and went on to describe the great strides the Communications Office had made in the past year in getting the story of LWF Cambodia told. Inn presented a certificate of appreciation and a gift from the agency. Before Ratna had a chance, other people interrupted to add what Inn had forgotten. Ruth told everyone about our article in Canada Lutheran. Project Manager Sarun added that he’d had his picture published in LWI, Geneva’s communication tool, because of our very early interview with him. Pauline started to add about the publication of the history and Ratna managed to wave her off. So finally Ratna did get his opportunity, with very kind and encouraging words, about our helpfulness over the year. 

In response, we both made it through our farewell speeches with only short pauses to compose ourselves. Our audience stayed attentive to the end and seemed truly surprised at our emotion. Surprised … and pleased. 

Sadly, Project Managers Bunnath and Sintha, friend Ankara, unendingly helfpul Someth, and most notably our dear friend Vannary were absent. (More about Vannary’s absence later.)

Finally, the group was released from speeches to eat and fell on the eight pizzas, mounds of barbecued meat sticks, and snack foods, in typical LWF Cambodia staff style. 

Earlier, before the party, Phallay had presented us with a hand crocheted doily–one remaining souvenir of a project she had undertaken as a university student in Phnom Penh, to earn her tuition. It will take pride of place at home in Edmonton.

Later at the party, Ratna gave us a small package and when asked, assured us it would NOT be polite to open it. (He did however want to clarify that it was from ALL of his family–all four of them.) Well, I’d already opened the agency gift and admired the woven silk pastoral scene (a large hanging, perhaps 4 feet square) and Pauline had rushed up to explain the scene to me, so she wasn’t insulted that I’d looked!). But, we’ve always depended on Ratna to educate us in Khmer culture.

We stayed out this party, saying goodbye one at a time to staff –some well known, some barely. Departure from Phallay was particularly difficult. 

We said goodbye to the office, already occupied by one new staff person, with another on her way in six weeks.

At home, we opened Ratna’s little box to discover a small Angkor Wat medallion, but more importantly, more friendly sentiments written on the back with the names of each of his family. 

And then we went to bed for a fitful sleep.
M&M still in Phnom Penh

As we wrap up our work with LWF Cambodia, LWF Cambodia begins to unwrap its plans for the next six years with a Country Strategy 2009-2014. Planning, monitoring, and evaluating are constants here and all elements have been called into play this month-for the organization and for us.

Because David would be going on annual leave while we were out of the country, we evaluated our year with him and Ratna on June 19. It seemed pre-emptive, but did help us focus for our final month. We concluded the evening with dinner together, to which Ratna brought his wife, Borann. Borann speaks no English, so the evening must have been long for her, but she smiled beatifically throughout.

Much later (a week before our departure), Borann took another risk and with Ratna invited us into their home for dinner. The two of them spent hours creating a multi-course dinner of deep-fried fish cakes, fresh grilled fish, and traditional fermented fish (somewhat like anchovies) accompanied by pickled vegetables, salad, and a deep-flavoured beef soup and rice. Their two children Sopheak, 7, and Sithisak, 4, ate at their own table and then played quietly. They didn’t understand the significance of M&Ms but quickly accepted the treat, Sopheak with a crystal clear “Thank you” as learned at the Adventist school she attends. Her grade 1 report card tells the story of a very bright young girl.

Earlier, from June 20 to 28 , we stepped out of this world and into another, through the looking-glass world of Kuala Lumpur and into Bangladesh. Planning for a four-day workshop; monitoring the challenge of my facilitation style beside The Ultimate Trainer; and being faced with Asian-style daily evaluations-nothing confidential, nothing anonymous-presented a particular test! On the last workshop day, we administered our own Canadian-style confidential and anonymous evaluation form and were satisfied with the results.

Participants from four LWF-related country programs (India, Nepal, Bangladesh and Cambodia) made for intriguing interactions and responses in session and fascinating conversations over delicious curries.

Bangladesh measures up at 90% of the square kilometrage of Cambodia, but with about 10 times the population. The capital, Dhaka, teems with people and even the more remote town of Rangpur, with a population of 250,000, feels crowded. We are happy to return to the bright green if sometimes shabby beauty of the former Pearl of the Orient.

Back in the office, we sort through files in paper and on the computer, and there’s one more field trip. With a final visit with IRDEP-Thpong staff, we have now visited twice in each of the six Integrated Rural Development through Empowerment Projects by which LWF Cambodia makes its name.

This visit is different, though. We are not in the IRDEP-Thpong target area, but in the graduated villages of Kandal Province. Just outside the city, but still far off the main roads, we visit Pro Cham Ang village. One of the first LWF Cambodia rural projects-reached when travel was difficult in the country and none of it was done without military accompaniment.

Pro Cham Ang village shows us its impressive Village Bank history: how it has grown from 42 members to 94 members with a capital that grew from 3.5 million riels (USD875) to 38 million riels (USD9,500). We hear of the progress made in deep wells, shallow wells, culverts, latrines, improved school building, non-formal education, and a host of trained volunteers in disaster preparedness, health, and animal husbandry. A provincial government official attends our meeting and speaks highly of the progress the village has made. We are taken for a walk down main street and shown impressive two-storey houses built by former Village Bank members. The village leader, the Village Bank leader, and the provincial official repeat the litany of accomplishments. And in the end…? Despite their undertakings, they all wish LWF Cambodia would return full-time, as they were before, to continue with capacity building. Sometimes “leaving home” feels scary.

On July 4, I participated in interviewing candidates for an Assistant Communications Coordinator to work with Ratna and 12 days later-on our third last day in the office, Chanthon joins us. With Ratna out on a field visit to Battambang, we introduce Chanthon to some of the next challenges for the Communications Office.
In the meantime, Marcus, having spent 13 weeks supervising and mentoring Myriam in her counselling practice, evaluates with her their time together. And then we have lunch-a last opportunity in this time and place, but we hope there will be more meals shared in other times and places with Myriam and Jean-François Frys.

While waiting for Angkar L: A short history of LWF Cambodia 1979 to 2007 to come from the printers (and Chanthon to compile a database for its distribution), Marcus creates a memorial sign for all the Country Representatives who have made LWF Cambodia today’s success story.

There are still more papers to sort through, files to tidy, emails to delete. AND, as Marcus predicted, even in our last days here, there are many firsts.

The timing of our final days coincides with the first anniversary of my brother Manley’s death. As we evaluate our experience here, we know that Manley would have been impressed with the work of LWF Cambodia and particularly how it is accomplished. He would have been impressed that over half the staff of LWF Cambodia live and work in remote villages from Monday to Friday, returning to their families on the weekend and heading back out the next week to uphold the rights of the poor and oppressed.

We too are proud to have been associated with this agency for change. We will say sad farewells Friday after work as the staff gather around us.

As we’ve learned to say in our final days here,
Chum reap leah [goodbye] one last time from Cambodia…

Margaret & Marcus in Phnom Penh

• A month or so ago, Vothana in the next office (so he walked through our office regularly) resigned to take up a more senior position in another NGO.
• Barbara Lund, our Asia Desk contact in the Evangelical Church in America (ELCA), resigned her position and has gone off to run a retreat centre (after years of travelling all over Asia). 
• As you know, David the Country Rep left about two and a half weeks ago on his annual leave and is probably fishing in Wisconsin at the moment. 
• About the same time, Socheat, the cheery receptionist, left to start her own business, so she’s no longer there to be teased by (and to tease back!) Marcus. 
• With Vannary’s brother here from France, she’s taking two weeks annual leave, so she’s not in the office these days.
• (And her Linda is off in Japan on a school trip at the moment.)
• Phallay, who’s been cooking for us every lunch hour for weeks now has also taken annual leave –suddenly– leaving us in the lurch yesterday. 
• When Ruth is off at an all-day meeting, we wonder when she’ll be back. 

So, it cheers us when:

• Seang Eng sends out the invitation to our LWF Cambodia farewell.
• Haruki calls from Hokkaido to check that we’re comfortable buying our train tickets from the airport.
• Members of the Catholic worshipping community email their best wishes. 
• Phallay comes in from annual leave to bring us lunch – even if it is the same day as…
• Jean-François and Myriam have us over for lunch and a rapid-fire visit, grilling Marcus for all they can learn from his professional wisdom.
• Canadian friends and family write emails looking forward to our return.

And it cheers Marcus, in particular, when people in Hokkaido comment on the 30* temperatures there.

Decathecting from Cambodia
we are
M&M in Phnom Penh

Besides 2,500 staff and 2,000 volunteers, there’s the RDRS guesthouse in Dhaka where we were warmly welcomed and generously fed, and then there’s the North Bengal Institute where “warm welcome” is hardly adequate to describe our reception. There must be a secret to such sweet watermelon juice, but Aslam’s not telling. There’s nothing Aslam wouldn’t do to make our stay comfortable. A former chef, Aslam is better suited to the public life, but knows all the secrets of a good kitchen.

We’d had a big breakfast in Dhaka and stopped en route for a snack, so on arrival at 3:30 Aslam had prepared “a small lunch”-rice, curried fish, curried chicken, stir-fried potatoes and greens, mixed vegetables, and fresh mango. We’re expected back for dinner in four hours.

Accommodation is very comfortable: a good sized room with twin beds, a TV, a heated shower, and the only in-room internet connection(!). And not forgetting anything, a vase for the stems of flowers we were presented on arrival.

We’re most anxious to see the training room and once again Aslam is ahead of us. The room is set; the bottled water is at the ready; the candy dishes will be filled within minutes. Is there anything else we need?
Vuthy would rather not have the tables and chairs set this way, but I’m happy with the U-shape. Vuthy wants the extra tables taken away, but Aslam and I would like room for guests at the opening ceremonies. Vuthy wants the curtains pulled, but Marcus likes the tropical view. We knew this before, but here’s further evidence that our styles are different!

The next morning shows it in spades! Vuthy is the quintessential effervescent Trainer. There’s no energizer he doesn’t know and he moves the participants through their paces. He sets up daily teams to attend to energizers, daily evaluation, and daily summary, something we aren’t familiar with, but obviously the participants are. (These daily teams take an unexpected half-hour bite from the beginning and end of each day.)

Before the first team is launched on its opening energizer, Marcus pulls us back to the agenda. He’s to begin the day with icebreaker introductions-a great technique learned in a CUSO session and carried around the world for the past 17 years. Marcus begins with an easy one: line up by height, shortest to tallest. The trick is giving our height-half know it in feet and inches and the rest in metric, so both answers are allowed. Even so, places have to be switched as we round the circle.

Marcus’s next challenge is for us to line up alphabetically by family name. This bumps into cultural traditions as well as demonstrates uncertainty with the English alphabet. Some young adults in caste-based societies (India and Nepal) are no longer using their father’s or husband’s “title” (as they call it) because it indicates caste and they are trying to develop a more open society. Some Bangladeshis appear to go by their surname; and of course the Cambodians name family first and then given name. Our nametags identify us as “Margaret” and “Marcus” so that confuses those looking for Bs and Ss. This time as we round the circle, L ends up before most of the Ks(?).

This also provides opportunity to listen to accents in a non-threatening way. The Indian, Nepali, and Bangladeshi accents are quite similar. And, I find, more familiar to our ears than the Cambodian accent. South Asian refugees and immigrants have brought that lilting English to Canada.

And so begins our four-day workshop on communications and rights-based advocacy with the four LWF country programs in Asia, cooperating under a network called AZEECON.

There are many challenges in the four days, not the least of which is a result of poor communication between the facilitators. Yikes! AND me having to follow the Ultimate Trainer who has upstaged me with his talent AND content on Day One!

We’ve spent a lot of time analyzing what happened and today’s theory is that Asians learn by rote and train in a related way. The questions asked indicate the right answer. “Which is better then, the rights-based approach or the needs-based approach?” My “nominal group technique” sets up situations in which there is no right answer. I had to explain a task repeatedly, until I couldn’t believe the requests for clarification.
The workshop was saved by a field visit on Wednesday although jeopardized somewhat by an assignment from me to create a communications tool for an issue requiring advocacy after visiting an appointed stakeholder group (youth, women, village development committee, local government representatives). Thursday morning, after Marcus’s debriefing exercise for the field trip, the teams presented their communication tools. I evaluated the tools first on communications merit and then Vuthy spoke to the advocacy effectiveness. (This time, I think I stole some of his thunder!)

As usual, we are greatly impressed by the staff of LWF-this time sampling India, Nepal, and Bangladesh. The India program is about a year ahead of Cambodia in the localization process. Enthusiastic, dedicated, and full of good humour, the participants are a delight to meet and Marcus grills them over meals so that we learn as much as we can about each country.

And so today, we have followed the rail lines and power lines (another indication that we’re in a former British colony: infrastructure) back across the flood plain to Dhaka by van. The traffic is unnerving, particularly for the front-seat passenger. The highway (at one point crossing the Jamama River on a 5-km toll bridge) is bordered by rice paddies-no surprise, but even the Cambodians note the variety of other crops-long beans and other unfamiliar green vegetables, taro and other root crops, pumpkins, banana, bamboo, and jute. Using crop rotation, the fields provide three crops a year throughout the country’s six seasons.

Back at the RDRS Dhaka guesthouse, we have eight hours to wait until our 1:20 am flight to Kuala Lumpur. I’ve chosen to stay here and write rather than shop. And I’ve written just the smallest appetizer for the amazing meal that it was!

We hope your appetite is whetted to hear more about Bangladesh.

Donnabad,
Margaret and Marcus, back in Phnom Penh

Our travels to Bangladesh have taken us through Malaysia. Yesterday we had 8 and a half hours between arrival and departure in Kuala Lumpur (KL). Rather than sit in the airport, we were determined to go into the city and Ruth had said it was an easy trip in to the “twin towers” —in 1997 (but since surpassed), the highest building in the world. The five other delegates from LWF Cambodia agreed to go with us. So with big tall Papa Duck at the fore, the five little ducklings lined up, Mother Duck counting regularly at the rear, and headed out into the big city.

It was easier than Ruth thought, since there’s an airport Ekspres train that took us into Sentral Station, where we changed to the LRT for five stops to the Petronas Towers. Getting on and off the trains was always an anxious time when there’s seven people involved, but we made it. No sooner did we arrive at the Towers than we found the food fare in the complex of four contiguous malls–not just KFC (we have one of those in Phnom Penh now), but Pizza Hut, A&W, Chili’s, Haagen Dazs, and Starbucks were among the familiar names. After reviving, we seven set a time to meet again at our original entrance to the malls and the two of us headed out to explore on our own. 

The Petronas Towers are the jewel in the Kuala Lumpur Convention Centre (KLCC) area of the city. All very upscale, all very polished. There are no plastic bags littering the gutters; there are no beggars here. There are plenty of foreigners (and we only recognize the Caucasians). This does not look like the developing world and indeed that’s one of the key points made in the Towers’ orientation centre — they want this to contribute to their status as a “developed nation”. 

Marcus was particularly disappointed that we were too late to get in on a tour of the building, in particular the skybridge between the towers at the 41st and 42nd floors.

There is poverty in Malaysia. There certainly is corruption in government. We just didn’t see it yesterday. Instead we saw the foyer of a concert hall in the base of the towers; we saw GAP, Prada, and Esprit Kids stores in the malls. (We even found Dockers with 34″ inseams! Marcus is so relieved.) 

We also got new nose pads for our glasses and I bought a new watchband. Yes, we could have got the same in Phnom Penh for a fraction of the cost, but the one eyeglass place I’d tried in PP didn’t have the right size and the last watchband I bought in PP lasted six months. Besides the convenience of doing this in one place when there were no other pressures on our time. 

After circumnavigating the buildings, and exploring the ground floors, we walked around the park, part of the way on the cinder jogging path, in the shade of huge indigenous trees (certainly more than 10 years old, so you can imagine the cost of planting them), and finally stopped to enjoy the elaborate dancing fountains in a manmade lake.

We found a restaurant where I could continue to watch the fountain for our fourth light meal of the day before gathering our ducklings back together for the LRT and train ride back to the airport. We were back in plenty of time.  

Filling in more time (the others ate), we eventually passed through security, learning from others’ mistakes what needed to be put through the x-ray machines and how, only to discover that we had to go through x-ray again at the gate. This time we knew for sure what to put in the baskets. How did those other people get here who were sent back time and again to remove their cell phones from their pockets?? Marcus dared to ask why there were two security checks. Well, the first one is to enter the secure area and the second to enter the gate. He tried again when presenting his boarding pass and was told the first one is to enter the secure area and the second to enter the gate. Don’t know if that’s a language or culture barrier!

Once on board the Airbus 330, we discovered that 14E and 14F –which had been great seats on the 737 from PP to KL– were the middle two seats in the centre rank of four! Fortunately, there was enough space that the fellow on Marcus’s right left after take-off and we moved over to have an aisle seat. Just in time for meal #5. This time for a Bangla meal of curried veg and lamb koftas, giving us a clear indication of meals to come. We think we were the only Caucasians on the entire flight (maybe 275 seats?) and perhaps in the whole city today!

But more about that later….
Now we’re here in Dhaka, capital of Bangladesh, with a population of 10+ million (a few million shy of the total population of Cambodia). 

We’ve passed through a very different world and returned to the developing world (down several steps from Cambodia).

Still enjoying the adventure,

we are
M&M out of KL

Ten months with LWF Cambodia. Incredibly, that leaves only one more month before our departure from the organization on 18 July. These days, we are much more conscious of time speeding by.

A month ago, we were showing Joanne and Glenn our world; this past Sunday (15 June) we were talking to them via Skype as they celebrated Mom and Dad Busch’s 60th wedding anniversary in Kelowna.

But back on 23 May-Royal Ploughing Day, Vannary’s youngest daughter, Linda, helped Joanne and Glenn and the two of us understand the display of royal pomp and the King’s cows’ predictions of a good rice harvest this coming year.

Rice planting may be aided by an early and hard rainy season. Our landlady, Mrs Kim Lay, says the river is rising more quickly this year. The pattern of a daily downpour has returned. While the temperature may have dropped several degrees, the humidity is rising.

Rice is so important to this culture. Most Cambodians eat it at every meal; Phallay feeds it to us with every lunch. We’re pleased to announce that on the cusp of our last month, we ate rice for the first time in a Cambodian home.

We were graciously, generously, and enthusiastic-ally welcomed into the heart of Vannary’s family. The eldest daughter, Marta, arrived just in time for dinner, with her young man, Thearith-soon to be fiancé (date of engagement TBA, perhaps July). Daughters Molika and Linda, however, had been in the kitchen, preparing dish after dish for our arrival. Marcus kept wanting to take a photograph of the dining table laden with food, but Vannary would say, “Wait, wait, there’s another dish!”

Speaking of gathering at the table, for the past several months we’ve been serving as Eucharistic ministers (communion assistants) at mass. It’s an honour and a privilege to serve in this way, to participate in the liturgy and to feel part of this community of faith. Marcus is scheduled to serve on Saturday 19 July at our last opportunity to worship with this congregation.

Food is always a good way for us to connect with people and it’s one of our successful entry points with Phallay and Ratna. This week, Marcus delivered two of his dill-pickled eggs to Ratna (who returned the empty jars with a pair of his delectable avocados). The dill was a flavour Ratna was not familiar with.

LWF Cambodia currently sets its annual priorities based on the “Country Strategy 2003 to 2008.” As the Country Strategy approaches its finish line, a 10-member Final Evaluation Team assembled this month under the guidance of Australian Type A consultant, Jan Cossar. She propelled the team through an incredible schedule over four weeks, gathering, analyzing, reporting data, and making recommendations for the next six-year strategy. We hadn’t anticipated hearing the results of the evaluation, but dropped in last week at the beginning of a three-day workshop to include staff leadership in the process and …stayed to the end.

The Final Evaluation Team included staff, government representatives, partners, and donors, including Chey Mattner, from Australian Lutheran World Service. Chey had visited LWF Cambodia earlier this year and granted us permission to use some of his photographs of Cambodian faces.

Tired at the end of the Final Evaluation, Chey came for dinner with us on his last night in Phnom Penh. Not surprisingly for those of you in the PP Visitors’ Club, although Maly’s departure was no more than 10 minutes after Chey’s arrival, he couldn’t get over what wonderful service she provides.

Although Mrs Kim Lay had spilled the beans to Maly about our departure, we were so sad to deliver to Maly her end-of-service notice.

With the results of the Final Evaluation of the 2003 to 2008 Country Strategy, LWF Cambodia prepares for 2009 to 2014. This week another two days are lifted from our schedule as we sit in yet another hotel conference centre to craft vision, mission, goals, and objectives and consider organizational structure and budgeting for the coming years. This time, the deliberations are in Khmer. David, Marcus and I huddle at one table to hear Sambaddh translate and we compare our thoughts, particularly on the words and grammar of the suggested texts.

This is one of our last opportunities to work with David. Friday we fly to Bangladesh and Saturday David flies home to Wisconsin for home leave.

David’s family left without him last week, but he’ll soon join Beth, Jonathan and Michal in Rice Lake, Wisconsin, for the summer. This time at the end of their home leave, David and Beth will return alone. Jonathan will be starting his third year of university and Michal her first.

Making our final month all the more exciting (and shorter!), we fly to Bangladesh on Friday to offer a four-day workshop on communications strategic planning in conjunction with Vuthy and his topic, rights-based advocacy.

Trying not to think of sad farewells, but leaning toward our good friends in Hokkaido and Honshu, we are
M&M in Phnom Penh

We hadn’t planned on this and hadn’t been invited, but since we got a glimpse of the agenda and began to grasp the significance of the end of the LWF Cambodia Country Strategy 2003 to 2008, we thought we might join in.

Yesterday, we began our day by assembling a mock-up of Marcus’s History of LWF Cambodia. Mock-up in hand, we headed out to a recommended printing house. They needed time to think about it, so we left it with them and headed off to the Cambodiana Hotel–hotel of the infamous buffet lunches. 

We thought we’d cherry-pick sessions at the workshop–maybe hear about some of the most significant changes accomplished over the six years of the Country Strategy; sit in on something about the accompaniment program (post-graduation) in Kandal and Takeo provinces; maybe listen to some discussion of how all this will shape the Country Strategy for 2009 to 2014. After one session, we were hooked. We arrived in the conference room this morning and got a workshop package, a nametag, and an invitation to tonight’s celebratory dinner. 

Now, we’ve just arrived home from dinner on a boat on the Mekong, followed by the inevitable…dancing to loud music. No LWF Cambodia celebration would be complete without it. 

So, much overfed, we head to bed and will be up and out a bit earlier than usual for the third and final day of the “LWF Cambodia End of Country Strategy 2003-08 Evaluation Workshop.”

More stories to follow, but for now, 
good night!

Margaret (and Marcus, too)

Seven years ago at this time, we looked back eight years before that to compare our Japanese and Mauritanian adventures. Recently, I happened to find the 9th month report from Mauritania on my computer and we’re amused to find the comparisons we made then. 

Our entire assignment in Nayoro was only eight months in duration. It ended in March with the end of the 1992-93 school year so our departure coincided with graduation ceremonies. We spent the next four months travelling through Southeast Asia (except Cambodia) and Australia, circling the Pacific. 

We worked until the end of June 2001 in Nouakchott, creating assignments beyond Communications to fill out the time, and then left the desert for seven weeks in green and rainy Europe. 

Six and a half weeks from now, we’ll wrap up our assignments here. We will need to set priorities and finish what we can, leaving other tasks for Ratna and Rachel Cook (from Idaho, our ELCA-sponsored successor) to pick up on in the coming months. With the month remaining before our one-year airline ticket draws us back to Edmonton, we’ll revisit that first placement in Nayoro (as well as visit friends in Asahikawa and Yaizu). 

Our tickets have been scheduled for the last flights home from Seoul–Seoul to Vancouver, Vancouver to Kelowna, Kelowna to Edmonton (via Calgary)–and we’ve paid the carbon offset for them. 

We were just talking recently about all the different ways our three placements might be compared: work, accommodation, food, culture, transportation, climate, geography, religion, sanitation, hospitality, technology, ease of living, flora and fauna, hosts, recreation, tourist opportunities. 

The bests: the presentation, quality, and flavours of food in Japan;  the beach in Nouakchott; the ease of settling in in Cambodia.

The challenges: the most demanding language in Japan;  the most poverty in Mauritania; the worst driving conditions in Cambodia.

Seven years ago, we quoted Kathleen Norris (Dakota: A spiritual geography, 2001): “These places demand that you give up any notion of dominance or control. In these places you wait, and the places mold you.” Rob, our guide and mentor in Japan, had advertised for anyone open to experiencing the helplessness of living in a foreign culture. It was our first experience of immersion in helplessness. Learning to wait was a particular challenge in Mauritania. Here in Cambodia, the first challenge was to slow down and let the heat set the pace. 

In Nayoro, the noon-time siren set all the dogs barking. Other than the rats in the walls, I can’t recall noting other wildlife. In Nouakchott, a city inhabited by former nomads, herds of camels stood waiting, donkeys dragged carts, and goats wandered at will. On any given day in Phnom Penh, we might see Sambo, the Wat Phnom elephant, out for his daily constitutional; the fruit bats swooping back to the tree between us and the Wat; and the Wat Phnom monkeys making nuisances of themselves. In fact, one monkey had to be subdued by an M16 last week after attacking several people. The Wat Phnom monkey troop appears to be growing at leaps and bounds and newspaper reports often threaten that they will be removed or reduced in numbers.  

As time passed, the junta in Burma seemed to be prodded into action. But wait… now the whole country seems to have slipped off the media’s radar. What have you heard lately? Relief agencies seem to have found various ways to begin the much needed work. David Mueller has put our names out there as possibilities, but other Asian Lutherans are picking up the tasks and perhaps even slipping in. David is spending four days in Bangkok this week trying to sort out details for LWF’s role in rehabilitation, if not relief. We doubt we’ll be called on.

David will return tomorrow evening, just in time to read over the PowerPoint presentation I created for him to present to the Club of Cambodian Journalists. With the Club, Ratna has organized a Journalists’ Rural Development Writing Contest, which will be launched on Friday morning. My job is to get PowerPoint’s Presenter View working for David to be able to read his script and control the slides from the podium. It hasn’t worked for him before, so I hope I can succeed at that. 

Preparing the PowerPoint stole time away from formatting Marcus’s history. Today I managed to drop in several charts and graphs, so progress has been made. This may not be the best time to be learning a new page layout program, but I’m sure it will come in handy in the future. 

I’ve been editing letters for David and stories on disaster risk management for Phallay in and around these other assignments. Marcus has updated the visitor information handout and has now turned his attention to the numerous forms used throughout the organization. Now that our Communications Policies and Guidelines have received official approval, we can confidently insist on standardizing the forms. Marcus has also started to draft letters of reference for Boran and Maly, another step closer to that final day. 

While we carry on with work, happy to check off our accomplishments one by one, Phallay insists on feeding us every day. We try to reciprocate, but she’ll have none of it. We suggest restaurants and she prevaricates; we suggest home and she says it’s too hot. She says it’s better to eat home-cooked food at the office. When we ask why she should feed us every day, she says, “Why not?” It’s hard to argue with her. Every day at noon, she appears with her “keep warm” pot stacked with rice and chicken curry or stir-fried beef and tomato or peppery beef and lotus root. Phallay insists she’s not a good cook, but we come away satisfied every day! So, now, we’re often eating rice twice a day. 

At the moment, we’re also eating jack-fruit every day, which is a little more frequent than we prefer. But if you’ve ever seen a jack-fruit, you’ll know that this could go on for a very long time! Beautiful colour, jack-fruit (INside); interesting texture, but just that hint of durian we shy away from! 

This week Maly introduced us to custard apples (aka sweet sop). Another interesting taste and texture sensation. As Marcus likes to remind me, even on our last day here we’ll likely be experiencing things for the first time. 

Tonight as I type and Marcus writes in his diary, the power has gone off. This happens sporadically. it just means that Marcus has to go down to Mrs Kim Lay and use an old French expression from Mauritania: “le current est coupé!” Unfortunately, Mr Kim Lay is visiting in France at the moment, but still Mrs Kim Lay can usually get things done. Except this time. She reports that she has three lines coming in from the city and one of them has been cut. Which explains why Mrs Kim Lay has power, our next-door neighbour has power, the stairwell has power, but the park is in darkness. Happily–as Glenn discovered last month–the only power in our apartment is in the air conditioning unit in the guest bedroom. Alhamdoulilahi! Another Mauritanian expression for “thanks be to God” which also translates in this case to “we can sleep tonight!” Mrs Kim Lay suggests it may take several hours to be reconnected. 

This means I can’t send this to you tonight, but be assured that we were thinking of all of you and sent our greetings. The subject of the email is in Khmer, Hassaniya, and Japanese–typical greetings for welcome or hello.

24 hours later, we are back on the power grid, and this message comes flying out to you,

Margaret and Marcus