Wherever you go, go with all your heart: Part 1

For the first time I have fretted over what to say in a post. I have so many photos, but they still don't capture the whole experience. Never the less, I shall try to share my heart.

Nearly four weeks ago, we made our first trip out to the provinces. I had no idea what to expect, and therefore was dealing with the yucky thing you call anxiety. Yeah, I know it's a weakness, but unfortunately I'm human. Although I'm striving to grow in my faith when it comes to worrying about the unknown, it sometimes rears its ugly head. Back to my anxiety issues: packing for a trip to a foreign place in a foreign land where I'll be meeting foreign people who do not speak English... So, do I pack food? If so, what kind of food? Do we have a place to sleep? If so, is it safe? What essential oils should I take in the first aid kit? Will we be able to purchase food if they don't have any? What if... and how do we know... and, well, um, excuse me, but I think I need to breath into a paper bag...

Okay, so I was freaking out in an annoying way, but this is where Bradley is so good for me. He just smiled, hugged me, and let me know everything would be okay. We weren't going to starve, although we'd most likely eat less than normal, and then he gently reminded me to hand it over to God. The next morning, we took care of some last minute details before packing up the car for our travels.

Our sleeping pads, sleeping bag liners, mosquito net

hammock, and BioLite stove ready for their fist trip

in this new, temporary homeland of ours.

These two guys make a great team in so many ways.

The Edwards purchased an SUV for our trips out of the

city to both allow us more direct travel, as well as to save

money on the bus fare and tuk tuk expenses that would

quickly add up over several months.

Some of my favorite peeps.

Loaded up and ready to go. This whole packing up

the car thing is just too much for Penny.

We had one stop we had to make before leaving town: the print shop. Jonathan needed to pick up the pamphlets for our bible studies, and as there were only 10 to print, he had decided to pick them up on our way out of town. Well, printing here isn't quite the same as in the states. For 10 pamphlets, front and back, 5 full pages, folded, we waited for nearly an hour. So, we decided to entertain ourselves while we waited...

Have you seen this man?

Evie + popsicle = entertainment

Entertainment = clean up

Finally, we were on our way. In response to Jonathan's apology for the wait, I'd almost said, "everything happens for a reason," but opted to just assure him that none of us were in a hurry. Since we had a later start, as well as a printer hold up, traffic reared it's ugly face as we puttered through the streets of Phnom Penh.

No, this is not a truck. It's a moto, pulling a trailer.

Beautiful.

I'm in awe of the various means of transportation.

The natives (as well as the foreigners) were growing restless as dinner time approached. Since we had not heard from the family we were visiting with that night, we decided to pull off for some food. We passed up 2 restaurants on our side of the road, before stopping at our eating destination, on the opposite side of the road. Bradley and this older gentleman engaged in an "I think I know you" stare off, until Jonathan walked up, also recognizing the gentleman, and said the name of a Cambodian town. The man's eyes lit up, and immediately hand-shaking, embracing, and laughing were shared. Apparently, the guys had been trying to contact this man, with no success, and here he was, randomly... or maybe not so randomly. I'll let you decide. Before you make your decision, you might want to know a few more facts:

1) This gentleman's family owns this restaurant, and he just happened to be visiting this Wednesday.  He lives 4-5 hours away from this rest stop. Yes, 4 to 5 hours in another direction.

2) There were several eatery options, and somehow we chose this one, that none of us have ever heard of before.

3) Jonathan's phone had accidentally turned off, preventing us from receiving a call from the family that was cooking and waiting for us to eat dinner. If we'd received their call, we would have kept driving to our destination, without stopping.

To continue, Vanny (pronounced "Waun-ee"), our translator and friend {more about him later}, was able to get his information which will allow us to visit and study with him and the others in his area.

Exchanging information.

He was so sweet and excited. He just kept walking

around the table, smiling and patting the guys.

Dinner is served.

This soup was everybody's favorite. Yum!

Oh! I almost forgot: our first rest stop bathroom experience. Bradley and I both wish we were in the room with certain people (Carli and Timothy being 2 of them), in order to see their reaction to these photos. Love you Timo. Love you Car-Car. ;o)

Not too different from a gas station restroom, right?

The pot-shaped dish is floating in the "flush" water.

After you figure out how to use the toilet bowl, you

scoop up some water and pour it into the porcelain

bowl. Yes, that is the color of the water in the toilet,

and not anything else. Oh, and if you remembered

to bring your toilet paper (none is provided), then

you can deposit it in the trash basket.

(Stop gagging Lana.)

Okay, I thought this was pretty ingenious of them.

A chop stick serves as your privacy lock. As long

as they don't use these in the restaurant, I believe

this is a brilliant MacGyver moment.

Our final stop for the evening was at the home of brother Song Seng. Since they had made us dinner, we managed to stuff more food down our gullets - I'm not quite sure how though. (Gabriel was very confused why we were eating dinner again.) It was nearly 9 o'clock at this point, which is late here, and we were all weary from travel. The Song family graciously opened their upper room to all of us for the night. Mosquito nets and sleeping gear were unpacked, while we took turns using the one restroom before heading to bed. As it was hot and still all night, I had a difficult time sleeping. There were 9 of us, with only 1 fan, and we therefore opted to let the Edwards and Chans have the airflow, for the sake of the kiddos and expectant mommy Sopiak. There's nothing like a hot night, lying in a tight mesh tent, with no airflow, fully clothed, next to a husband who is a natural furnace when he sleeps. {Insert "Good Times" theme song here.} Every time I'd fall asleep, I woke up sweating, feeling as though I couldn't breath - and I'm usually the cold natured one in the group. Ugh! I was so miserable (and a little melodramatic by this point), that I threw malaria caution to the wind, and went to sit on the concrete porch. After nodding off a few times, I woke Bradley to ask him if we could move our bug hut outdoors. He reluctantly agreed. Poor Bradley. Although it was still hot, at least there was a slight movement in the air outside. Sleep finally came, and I was very grateful.

This was our view the next morning.

Our home away from home.

This is actually J&M's bug hut, but with 3 children

we think they'd be slightly uncomfortable using this.

So, they opt to use the larger mosquito net.

Inside the barn where the Edwards and Chans slept.

Bradley enjoying his mosquito net hammock.
Thank you Wilson family!!!

Stairway to our "campsite."

View from our "camping" area, down into the dining area.

The dining area, from downstairs.

The bathroom. Notice the creative toothbrush holder. ;o)

Water "tub." No, you do not bathe in this. You use

the water from it to "shower" yourself...

...and to flush this.

Believe it or not, the toilet being on the floor was

much easier to use than the one at the rest stop.

Bradley sporting his ultra garment before we get

down to bathing.

The kids had it made. TV. Pillows. And sweet

Marie only an inch away, ready to feed or serve

however necessary.

Thursday we headed over to study with a very sweet and intelligent group of godly-minded folks, who seem to have an honest desire to serve the Lord to the best of their ability.

Visiting with this group after the study.

The leader of this group lives here, in the worship

building, with his wife, as well as 4 of his 7 children.

He and his wife are teaching the younger children to

speak Thai, as he hopes the younger ones will be able

to share the gospel with his 3 older children, who are

working in Thailand, and do not believe in Jesus.

Front entrance.

Sopiak, Vanny's wife, being all cute and pregnant.

As I said, I have a lot of photographs, and I'm going to let the photos speak for themselves.  I hope you enjoy the visual experience.

The older lady in this group was so precious. She so earnestly wanted to share her thoughts with Marissa and I, and with Vanny's help was able to do so for a short while. He was then pulled away for more study with the guys, and we were left just smiling and nodding as this women diligently conveyed her wisdom in a language we were trying, but failing to understand. My hope is to be able to actually benefit from her words on one of our future trips. Sister Song is the gracious lady in the middle, who opened her home and kitchen to all of us, and then hoped her kindness would entitle her to keep Penelope when we left. Unfortunately for her, J&M are slightly fond of their youngest bundle of joy. ;o) We pulled out of their driveway early Friday morning, with Penny, ready for our next destination, an hour down the road. Already, I'm looking forward to our next visit with these new friends. Lord willing, each time we'll be able to bond a little more, spiritually and verbally. The Lord, along with this giving bunch, supplied all of our needs, and then some. We came with our hearts open, and they received us in the same manner. Although Confucius is credited with the title of this post, I thank God for yet again proving His awesome power to provide for our needs in this new and strange land.

Betty Crockett: Cooking in a new Frontier

Due to a lack of internet, I've been off the virtual grid, but am now thankfully settled in with my sometimes spotty-but-oh-so-wonderful wifi. Yay! So, being unable to blog for several weeks, I have a lot of catching up to do, in a sense. I have a few posts ready in my head, but am taking my time to make sure they come out exactly as I intend.

Food.

It's great.

It's a necessity.

Eating it is delightful.

Cooking it can be enjoyable.

Cooking it here, not as pleasurable.

For the first 3 weeks of our stay in Phnom Penh, continental breakfasts, restaurants, and cafes were the norm. We had no kitchen, and therefore I had no concern for cooking. The closest we came to cooking was boiling water for ramen noodles, which we did occasionally to save money. Then our hotel stay came to an end, and suddenly I had to figure out how to provide food for myself and Bradley. While in the states, I had looked forward to the daily market trips, and learning new recipes. However, I had not considered the language barrier. I guess I thought that somehow I'd magically be able to speak Khmer fluently enough to ease in and out of the psar (market, pronounced "pasaw" with a nasal, throaty inflection at the end), without any issues. This grasp of the foreign tongue would also, somehow, enable me to whip up amazing Khmer meals. Then I would present them to the many guests I was hosting, while they all applauded my amazing and skillful talents. My husband would sit nearby, smiling proudly, chest puffed, because his wife, and his wife alone was able to overcome cultural and language barriers in a single bound. Believe it or not, that's not quite how it's gone for me. Instead, the scene looks a little less super hero like, and little more like I need the rescuing. Picture burnt coconut. Think of half cooked chicken. Envision a cup of shrimp, I peeled myself, somehow shrinking to less than a 1/4 cup, once fried. Imagine beans that have cooked all day, yet are still too hard to eat for dinner. Visualize sad, wilted lettuce leaves that had dreamed of being a part of a grandiose salad. You can have all of this and more if you join us at Ballard's Busted, Bombed Out, & Burnt Brews. Yeah. It feels that bad sometimes. Maybe I am over dramatizing the situation just a little, but for crying out loud! How would you feel if you'd been cooking for over 15 years, 10 of those years as a wife, and then all of sudden you find yourself incapable of properly using a skillet? Being an over analyst, I've decided my issues are the following:

1) I have developed a slight fear of the markets: they see me coming, and they think white skin = money.

2) I have inconveniently become insecure with what little Khmer I do know: for some reason the excessive laughing and mocking from the locals isn't exactly boosting my confidence level.

3) I am unfamiliar with over half of the vegetables, fruits, and even some meats: this does not lend itself to easily throwing a meal together.

4) I do not have an oven or even a standard kitchen: not only am I figuring out what to do with new ingredients, I'm trying to figure out how to use my new and different space.

So, to sum it up: I have no idea what I'm doing.

On the flip side, I have new kitchen gadgets that I only dreamed of owning in the states. My bread machine is a dream come true for this American, now living in a land that rarely recognizes the word "flour" in their own language. 

With this said, I have had one flop, and one almost flop. The bread machine came with no instruction manual, and so the first time I used it, I was truly winging it with the assembly. Bradley was away for several hours that day, and I was so excited to have fresh baked bread upon his return. {In case you don't know my husband, it is an understatement to say the man loves baked goods. I've never worried myself over whether he'd remain faithful to me, but if he ever leaves me, I'll know it is because he had to choose between me and an apple fritter.} Like a child, I kept peeking in the small oven window of the bread machine, eager for the outcome that would guarantee my nomination for "best wife" of the year. After 2 hours, it still looked like a clump of dough-like matter, but once Bradley came home, I refrained from hovering over my new toy, in the hopes he'd have no clue until his surprise was fully baked. Well, apparently there is this thing called a dough/kneading hook that comes with bread machines. Without a manual, or even a picture of it on the box, this amateur had spent nearly 4 hours baking bread that was neither mixed nor kneaded. Yeah, I was a little sore, and needless to say, Bradley's hopes and dreams were temporarily crushed. Thankfully, I have successfully baked 1 loaf of wheat bread, 1 loaf of challah, and 1 passion fruit pound cake since this incident. Fascinating to think that a tool smaller than 3 squared inches can make such a huge difference in ingredients yielding either despair or utter happiness. Then today I attempted to make banana-passion fruit bread, and I learned that you are unable to stop the machine once you hit the "start" button. I tried everything, including searching the web for a solution. With some machines you can press the stop button, as long as it's before the baking process. My machine is not one of those machines. She's special. Unfortunately. No worries though, I didn't let the machine win. After a lengthy lecture, which I feel brought about some remorse and regret on her part, I was able to save the bread dough through refrigeration. Once the machine finished it's 1 hour and 27 minute cycle, I was then able to begin baking my loaf. It just happens that after all of my baking was finished, I figured out that unplugging the machine for 30 minutes allowed it to reprogram. Good information for any future mishaps.

This was the final product from what I call
Banana Bread with Passion Fruit. Add a
little butter...scrumptious!

Next in my kitchen of goodies is the product I never knew I needed, but will now have a difficult time living without: my rice cooker and steamer. 

The white bowl is for steaming. You add water to

the steaming unit, and the veggies or meat to the

steaming bowl. For rice, you remove this bowl,

and add the rice and water to the steaming unit.

This little beauty not only simplifies cooking rice, it allows you to steam broccoli, carrots, and other veggies in 30 minutes or less. The only hiccup I've had with it, is remembering to start the cooker on time. I'm accustomed to creating a meal in the states with everything at my fingertips, and I had gotten to the point of timing things pretty well, for the most part. We have to rinse the rice until the water runs clear, and then you add it with twice as much water to the cooker. Press the "cook" button down, and you're done. A half hour later you simply fluff the rice, and you're ready to serve. I think this was the first week that I remembered to have the rice steaming before I began cooking, to ensure I served a hot meal at a decent hour. Yay for me! Now if I can only get everything else down. ;o) On Tuesdays I use this baby to steam veggies for our ramen lunches. I store the extra in tupperware for Wednesday's and Thursday's lunches. Our schedules are too full on these days to allow time for a meal that takes longer than 15 minutes. I layer our bowls with the veggies, ramen noodles, ramen packet seasonings, and top them off with boiling water. The hot water ensures the veggies are hot enough for satisfaction. After our trip to the province (pictures and post coming soon), one of our new favorite lunch options Friday through Monday is fried egg over rice with soy sauce and sweet chili sauce. It's yummy, quite filling, and gives you enough energy to make it through until dinner....usually. Sometimes you just have to have a fruit or chip snack.

I'm hoping to purchase a small baking sheet in order to make better use of my new toaster oven! This and my crockpot are my "oven."

Yes, you're getting a little sneak peek into what
the kitchenette looks like, but just a peek.

In the states, Bradley and I tried to come up with an excuse to purchase one of these, but never felt justified. Well, when it and the cost of a crockpot are less than half the cost of an oven, and you have no space/hookup capabilities for an oven, it's a no brainer. There's an attachment that came with it that supposedly allows us to roast a chicken, and this small appliance came with an instruction manual. Unfortunately it is all in Khmer. So, I'll be surfing the net to hopefully discover how to use this new contraption. I'm just praying I don't blow us up during my first roasting attempt. *nervous chuckle*

Finally, there's my new juicer! This was the item I was most excited to purchase in a land filled with new and exotic fruits. However, I've yet to use it. Bradley has used it twice. I have plans to use it, but only once I conquer the world of cooking here. Kind of need food more than fruit juice. Lame, but true. It will also help if I can purchase a blender, as several juicer recipes call for both. Until then I'll just smile at it and think, "someday..." *sigh*

Frustration takes hold quite often in my kitchenette, but I try to remind myself that as long as we're fed, I've done my job. It may not be the best meal I've ever made, but it's nutrients (does charred fish sauce and soy sauce count as nutritious?). So, if you have any meal ideas you want to share in the comments or on my Facebook post, I would welcome any suggestions! Just remember, I don't have the option of packaged and pre-made items, and am limited to milk and butter as my only dairy options. A lot of the crockpot and general recipes I've found online require quite a few items I don't have available. So, any recipes from scratch would be greatly appreciated. Let 'er rip Loneapron. ;o)

This is proof that I can cook something
delicious and beautiful.

Once again, I find myself grateful for my health, and what knowledge I do have about cooking. Had my mother not taught me the basics, I'd be utterly lost in the  kitchen here. One plus is that in America I was near the bottom of the totem pole with baking, but here I'm practically an expert! As I continue to explore this wild frontier with strange foods and unique preparatory items, I can only hope to glorify God with every meal I create... even if it doesn't yield a pleasing and savory aroma. Ha! In our daily reading, I was encouraged by Ecclesiastes 9:10. So, I'll continue improving my culinary skills, as I strive to be the best I can be while serving Him. 

Betty Crockett signing off saying, "remember the a la mode!"

A day in the life of me: Laundry Day

Although we're beginning to fall into some type of routine, the only day that has been consistent for more than 2 weeks now, is Wednesday, our laundry day. After the first load of laundry, I knew I would have to devote a whole day to the chore. Otherwise, I would either end up feeling frustrated that I accomplished nothing else, or I would grow weary trying to tackle this chore several times throughout the week. Early on, Bradley and I quickly discovered that if we didn't set 1 or 2 goals for the day, we were spent and undone by the close of it. If you don't choose a goal or two, then you'll soon find yourself pulled in different directions, unsure of what to do first. On the flip side, if you try to undertake more than 2 goals, you'll find yourself extremely frustrated and unaccomplished because here everything takes longer. Traffic, poorly marked roads, well-meant, but misguided help, along with other factors all contribute either to a lesson in patience or a minor melt down. It's your choice. Unfortunately we've made the wrong choice a few times, but thankfully we have the blessing of a warm, somewhat comfortable bed where we can recoup, and then arise to make the right choice: patience. This brings us to Wednesdays. Besides preparing meals, and a short break here or there with Laura Ingalls (I feel it's appropriate to watch Little House on the Prairie, as I'm tapping into my pioneer woman spirit for this task), I wash, hang, and fold all day. Before moving here we'd planned on having a washing machine. We'd looked at some small machines, that would work for us, but once we rented our flat, we realized that we neither had the space, nor the ability to host one. Plus, getting  it up the stairs would have been well, possibly impossible. So, we had to shift our thinking a little. We started shopping around for a different type of washing machine. If you ever find yourself in Cambodia, here I offer my experience in how to know if you have a good quality machine. 

First, you have to test the "hot water" setting,

and don't forget to add the detergent.

Although Bradley has assembled the hot water heater

we purchased, our flat does not have enough electricity

to use it for more than 8 seconds before the breaker trips.

We're hoping to find a solar powered battery or car battery

to charge the water heater since a certain pansy in our

home does not care for her cold showers.

Next, we have to wait for the hot water to fill 

the washing bin... one kettle's worth at a time.

Yes, this part does take a while, which is why I don't

wash everything with hot water. Our towels, sheets,

and extra dirty clothes are the only items that get

the boiling water treatment. I finish Filling up with

cool water to ensure that I don't burn myself while

"warshin', wish-a-wash, warshin', tingle-tangle-tingle

wish-a-wash, warshin'." You have to do something to

stay intrigued while doing laundry prairie style. ;o)

Then we add the clothes to be washed.

It's important to be sure the agitator in the "machine"

is working appropriately, or the clothes will stay dirty.

Here I use my fish style washboard to agitate the

clothing, but Bradley has now made me a wooden

laundry stirring paddle that works wonderfully!

Then I use my WWII persona to scrub the tar out

of the article at hand. Dunk, scrub, dunk, scrub. 

There's a message true and glad for the sinful and sad

"wring" it out! "Wring" it out!

It will give them courage new, it will help them to be true

"wring" it out! "Wring" it out!

Yes, I think of this song every time I do this part.

Then I fluff the item, as I learned after the first time,

if I don't, it will stay wrinkled until the next wash. 

Yummy!

Rinse cycle.

A good machine agitates during this cycle as well.

Dunk, dunk, dunk, and wring it out again. 

Fluff again, and put in the basket with the other

rinsed clothing, before the final cycle. 

The dry cycle works best when it's not raining.

We can also hang them inside, but it takes them longer

to dry since less breeze comes through the windows. 

Okay, well, I hope I've helped you in determining what makes a good washing machine. I thank God for my functioning hands, running water, working electricity, hot water kettle, and natural drying elements. Laundry day may be different in Cambodia, but it's still a blessing to have clean clothes for these temporary bodies. I do miss the fluffy feeling of fresh, warm clothes out of the dryer, but washing my entire wardrobe by hand leaves me feeling worthy of a good night's rest at the end of the day. May your fluff and fold warm your bodies and homes!

Longing to hug my friend...

I cannot do a regular post, as if nothing has happened. One of my dearest friends has just lost her son. She never had the joy of bringing her baby home. She never had the excitement of watching him crawl or take his first steps. For months she and her husband lived their entire parenthood inside a hospital room. Although I am certain anger, frustration, and confusion haunted them regularly, they shined as a beacon of faith during an agonizing trial. Now they have the heart ache of going home to an empty nursery. I know what it's like to clean out a baby's room that will never be used, but I don't know what it is like to perform such a task after having struggled everyday for your child's life, for nearly a year. I cannot pretend to fully comprehend their grief, but I hope they can know that somewhere in the city of Phnom Penh, their is a soul hurting and crying with them. I love you Lish, and I thank you and Shuan for your amazing example. My constant prayer is for His arms of comfort to wrap around you as you mourn your loss. Roscoe's body may be at rest, but his spirit and his influence will live on forever. Thank you for sharing your precious son with us.