This was easily the best trip of my life, and as someone who was born overseas and is a fairly well traveled Army brat, that really is saying something. My team would attest as they heard me snapping away on my Nikon, I took a LOT of pictures. I didn’t want to forget. I wanted to remember what the streets of Phnom Penh looked like. And I wanted to share the awesome culture and the orphanage and the beautiful children with all of our supporters. However, after the first day, I put down my camera while at the orphanage and just enjoyed living in the moment with the children. Hugging them, teaching them games, carrying bricks with them, enjoying their incredible souls. And mostly laughing and giggling, the language that permeates language barriers.

It is fun to relive the memories through the photos, but there are things that don’t permeate the pictures that I don’t want to forget. First off, the oppressive sticky heat. It hit me like a wall as soon as we stepped off the plane. As a Georgia girl for the last 10 years, I know hot. But this was a different hot, a sweltering, sticky, immediate, HOT. I was sweating like I had never sweated before. It wasn’t pretty, but I got over that quickly. It was just part of life there.

Another shocking constant was the smell on the streets, mostly it was the smell of garbage and gasoline. It was a daily eye opening reminder to me that we were, indeed, in a third world country. One that does not require trash bins, and one where most people could not afford to buy garbage bags or even electricity to refrigerate meat. It was startling, but I totally got used to the smells too. It was even more amazing to come home and see how clean our streets in America really are, and how much food we can get at the grocery store, and how good the air smells. And I have to say, it smells especially good this time of year in Atlanta, with the magnolia and honeysuckle blooming. Or maybe I am just finally appreciating it for the first time?

I also don’t want to forget the Cambodia sunsets, that sadly, I didn’t capture in photos (but maybe my teammates did?). Each night’s sunset was so vivid and beautiful and glorious, it was like the icing on the cake to a beautiful trip. Driving in the van packed with kids on our last night together, I felt a such a rush of pure joy as the children happily sang hymns to us and the sun set in amazing pinks and purples and oranges over the river. A photo doesn’t capture the beauty and heart and love in that moment. We all started singing along and clapping as James sang his gospel rendition of Amazing Grace and the kids squealed with glee and we all needed an encore. It was a night filled with happiness.

There is a bond with my team and those children like no other that I have experienced, at times it is actually hard to be home. We all worked so hard together and bonded with the children laboring literally through blood, sweat and tears. Leaving the precious kids that held tight to us all week was a heartbreak that I was not prepared for and I still wake up each morning and they are the first thing I think about. I hope that doesn’t change. I pray for blessings to befall New Life orphanage and the children to grow into strong Cambodian leaders, with hearts for Jesus, living powerful lives of purpose. I love them so.

Lauren

p.s. The pics I took during the trip can be found at:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/lululsm/collections/72157623952117553/

Our week with the kids in Cambodia from JamSmooth on Vimeo.

I had an hour to amalgamate 5 days worth of video and photos into a movie for the kids. I overcomplicated the task and could’ve done it in iPhoto but heard the word movie so I did it in iMovie. I think it came out pretty good considering the time I had. It was all worth it when I heard the kids laughing at the photos. I hope it gives you some idea of what our time with the kids was like.

Steve Fee – “All Because of Jesus,” from the album Burn For You.

Sitting here in Siem Reap airport sweating and waiting to board our flight to Incheon. As the wheels go up and I get some distance from this laid back country lessons will emerge. Here are three.

You can get back up after a tragedy. Do you truly know the horrors of the Khmer Rouge? If not watch the great film, The Killing Fields, just to get some idea. Did you know that as many as 2 million people were killed during the Pol Pot regime? Did you know that women and children were not spared? The scars remain after 30 years. Cambodia should be way ahead of its present condition but poverty still grips tightly. However this spirit of the Cambodia people is strong, vibrant and content. Drive through Phnom Penh to see the reminders of the past. Look to the eyes and smiles of the Cambodian orphans in Phnom Penh to see a bright future.

You don’t have to rush. The pace of Cambodia is purposefully slow. You see intent in Phnom Penh as traffic flows like blood through your body, complicated but amazing. Things get done here. The construction workers we worked with at the orphanage didn’t seem pressed to meet a deadline. Working deliberately under the blazing Cambodian sun a foundation for these orphans was built.

Orphans showed me what unconditional love looks like. At one point on this trip I was getting a manicure and a massage while the sweat was wiped from my brow. These kids didn’t care or even know to think about judgment. They just knew we came a long way to be with them and they wanted to show their thanks. Pastor Vek and Samoeun told us the kids see us as parents since they have none. What? Their love towards us proves that actions speak so much louder. We shared only a few words of communication together. The love of Christ unites His family and words aren’t even necessary.

Saturday night, six hours after we left Phnom Penh, our minibus pulled up to the T.O. Hotel in Battambang. Though we were all exhausted, you could sense an eager tension vibrating off the three team members who were returning. For Bill, Billy, and James the children who had owned their hearts for years were close enough to feel. When we got to church the next morning, all three were swamped by dozens of hugs.

It was a strange moment to be surrounded by unfamiliar smiles. I caught myself looking for Piching and Polin. They weren’t there.
But Tina and Nat and many others were. They had spent a week being loved on by the Battambang team and yet they were still welcoming to us. I saw again how easy it is to fall in love.

Bill tapped on my shoulder and introduced me to his Cambodian “kids.” There were no words necessary between them as they held onto each other. There was no awkward refamiliarization. They were a family reunited. It was beautiful and heart-wrenching. His daughter couldn’t meet my eyes as she cried. His son tried bravely to smile, but his eyes were pinched. Bill was sniffing with suspicious frequency.
We spent the afternoon at the orphanage. The new and old Battambang teams gave out small gifts and notes and spent the afternoon soaking up each other under a hot Cambodian sun. To say more tears than sweat was shed doesn’t make sense unless you’ve experienced the kind of heat that feels like your skin is scorching from the inside out.

The day ended with thanks and love. Children spoke and the team spoke and you could feel the love like a hand on your head as God was praised.

I thought I was out of tears. I thought I was out of ache. But having left my little ones only the day before, my heart went out to those who had to let go again. I was so glad they got to visit the kids, but you could see how it ripped at them to have only one day.
The guys later said they didn’t know what to do next year now that they have loved ones in both Phnom Penh and Battambang.
I just shook my head. Come back twice? Get a time share? I hear Cambodia is nice in the fall. All I know is that a year looks awfully long from where I sit now in Siem Reap.

I just zipped my suitcase closed. The past three days have been jammed with culture and life and experience. This whole country has an exotic, unapologetic beauty. From the regal Angkor Wat ruins, to the ornate dance of traffic, to the delicate art of bartering in the market, there are things that are just foreign. They are rich and complex and unique.

However, as much as I have loved this country, the moments I will cherish included hard labor with precious children. Thank you so much to all who have made this journey possible. Thank you on behalf of Piching and Polin and thirty-one others for building them a school. Thank you for your prayers. They were answered. God has been glorified in ways both large and small, and in many I have yet to discover. Each of you have left a kiss of blessing on the foreheads of children that this world had written off. You have brought joy to hearts that won’t take it for granted and your continued prayers will shower God’s blessing over them. And, I am quite sure, will cause his blessing to fall upon you as well. To be part of what God is doing is to be blessed. I felt that. Thank you.

Kimberly

Of the various parts of my body I would change if I could, I’ve never wished for longer arms. Until I was walking through the Lucky Burger with two children under each arm and another walking in front, trying to find a way to attach herself to me.  In that moment I would have traded my entire physical wish list for arms that could accommodate them all.

Last night we had a party.  Thirty-three orphans got a double scoop of ice cream and then piled into vans to go to Lucky Burger (picture McD’s meets KFC.) For most of the kids, it was the first time they’d been to a restaurant. Ever.

As we handed out some of the best ice cream I’ve eaten anywhere—thank you Belgian expats—visions of chaos filled my head. I saw food flying, kids running, and general mayhem.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. 

I will never forget the sound of those sweet clear voices singing hymn after hymn as we rode to dinner. There were probably twenty of us in a van the size of a VW bus, and all the way through Phnom Penh, they sang hymns in Cambodian and English. I sang with them, smiled with them, and applauded our God, Maker and Savior of all of us, at the end of each chorus.

At Lucky Burger, the kids clustered around. I had three across from me, one on each side, and one on my lap. When the food came, they started to chatter, but they didn’t touch a bite. They took a few pretend nibbles for the camera—this was an event to be documented—but nobody even snuck a fry. When the last meal was delivered, all the children stood. After a heartfelt prayer, they sang God is So Good, then took their seats to eat.

Yes, the whole restaurant stared. And I have rarely been so proud. The love of God flooded the Lucky Burger in a way I’m pretty sure hasn’t happened before.

The next thing I know, Polin has dipped a fry in sauce for me. I took it, of course. You can’t say no when someone offers you their first fry. Then five others were suddenly in front of me, dripping sweet sauce on the table.

These children never stopped giving. It’s not a sacrifice to them, it’s the way they are.

I tried to soak up every moment. To savor the silky softness of Srey Nan’s hair under my palm, the grip of Polin’s arm around my waist and that contented smile she’s developed this week, and Sienghai’s hand clutching my finger at the end of the row, because he’s not pushy enough to get closer but he won’t let go.

Today we stopped for one last visit before boarding a minibus to Battambang. My heart fractured when these little angels started to cry. Piching ducked under the hat I gave him when his long lashes dripped tears. Polin dabbed her eyes on the shirt I left for her. I tried to smile and failed.

I knew this was coming. I knew there would be a last day, a last hug. I knew I’d have to let go.

I just didn’t know how badly it would hurt. My heart aches where a piece of it is missing. It was planted in Phnom Penh this week and has taken root. But that’s the beautiful thing about God’s love. When we give it away, even the ache feels right. I will miss these kids until I see them again, but I know that even in the hurt, we’re all better for it. I was blessed to give love to them and to receive it so generously back. The light in their eyes tells me they were blessed too.  There are seven people from across the globe who are madly in love with them.

It was a week I think will impact all of us in ways not yet discovered. Our lives are inextricably entwined for the better. God is big. He tells big, beautiful stories. He has woven our lives together into something far richer than any would have been without this week.

That’s the only reason it was okay to say goodbye. For now.

We are heading to say our “see you laters”.
Not our “Goodbyes”.
That would make this task even harder. It is definitely looming heavy on our hearts. In our briefing last night none of us wanted to really address today’s events, mostly because there is nothing to make it better. It will be hard, bottom line.
It amazes me even more so this second time that we could bond so much with these little kids in 5 days. In 5 days we have fallen in love in these beautiful kids. Yesterday was icing on the cake. Literally! We worked in the morning finishing the rebar cages then headed back to the hotel. James rushed to put a quick video together that was amazing. We headed back around 4:00pm. We arrived to serve the kids vanilla and chocolate Dutch Ice Cream & cones. Three kids in, we had our first request for both flavors which led to everyone one asking for both. Good thing because we might have over ordered a little!
Because we had so much, we invited the construction guys whom we had worked alongside all week to join us for a cone. They were hesitant at first, kind of like when we first arrived and wanted to just jump right in, but they tentatively walked over and got a cone with the biggest smiles.
We then watched James’s video to a much deserved ovation. The kids love to see themselves on a big screen. Then we headed to Phnom Penh’s version of Mc Donald’s. This was the kids’ first time ever in a restaurant. None of them had ever experienced French fries and cokes. They made us so proud, singing a little song and then praying in Khmer before we ate. Each and every kid was so well behaved that I offered my two little ones to Samouen for proper restaurant behavior. They thoroughly enjoyed the food and the experience and sitting next to us.
After dinner we headed about town, driving around to make the night last a little longer while singing various songs. Rock Steady and Black Eyed Peas’ I Got A Feeling were the biggest hits. There were several tears shed in anticipation of today.
We head to Battambang today after we leave the orphanage. I am so looking forward to seeing the kids of Battambang, but….I do not look forward to saying my “see you laters”.

We are approaching our final workday here at New Life in Phnom Penh.  After a day and a half of hand tying rebar, I’m happy to say we’ve accomplished more than we set out to. I refuse to count the number of beams left to construct, but I think it’s safe to assume that it will take the rest of our work time to finish.

The kids are still faithful little workers, though the musings of childhood pull them away from the task at hand more now than they did that first day. This is great. This is how it should be.

It’s hard to listen to Sreynath joke with Bill across languages and to think of her as an orphan. A “least of these.” She is whole, healthy, and by all appearances happier than most girls her age in the United States. She smiles readily and is not shy. She expects to be loved and so she loves freely.

Polin was timid at first, watching, hoping for a grin. When you give her one, her face breaks into a beautiful smile. She loves to have an arm over her shoulder and if my hands are full will lightly rest her hand on my back or forearm, eager just for that connection.

Rasmey is one of the older boys and he works hard with his little brothers. There is no repulsion for the younger kids, no rebellion, just a patient, diligent worker.  He is quiet, but he is steady. He is growing into a good man.

When we set down our tools for the day, half the team jumped into the lake with some of the kids. They laughed and squealed at the cannon balls and can openers. It was the perfect end to a sweaty day.  I stood there with a camera, trying to capture that moment—the smell of Mali flowers, the promise of relief from the heat, the high giggles of tiny voices, and the peace following a day well spent.

I had Polin under one arm, and felt a brush against the other. Piching glanced up furtively, and then brushed his forehead against my arm again. Being an eleven year old boy, he immediately stepped away, so I wouldn’t pick up on the action.

This little preteen, who can strut with the best of them, wanted desperately to be held. I reached around him and tugged him close, fully expecting an embarrassed grin. Instead, he tucked his head into my side and gripped me with the significant strength of his narrow arms. The moment struck me like a branding iron, leaving a hot bright glow that I pray will not fade. I just about came undone.

For the next ten minutes, as the swimmers climbed up from among the lily pads in the tepid Cambodian lake, Piching leaned into me, and I patted his head, rubbed his forehead, squeezed his shoulder. I wanted him to know, if only for a moment, a mother’s love. I haven’t had children, but for those moments, I was his mother. I knew what it was like to want nothing more than to protect a tiny soul and lavish love on a tiny heart.

Before we left, he and Polin gathered a handful of big tropical flowers covered in tiny tropical ants and tucked them up into my hair. It was a sweet gesture, and worth a few crawlies in my braid…though I pray God killed them all on my behalf.

I will not yet think about leaving. Why borrow trouble?  But I will say this.

If there were a chance to take these kids from the orphanage and bring them home with me, I wouldn’t do it.

I’d want to, but I wouldn’t. It would be entirely selfish on my part.

They are loved by wonderful parents and learning how to be a truer family than many related by blood. While they may crave affection, I hope I can ease that in some small way. But the love of God is always sufficient and that is so obvious in their eyes. They may have wants like the rest of us, but all their needs are met.

They know love. They know grace. They know hope.

May God guard that knowledge in them and in me. Because if we can truly exemplify Him, we cannot help but change the world.

Power tools are non existent on the job site. If something needs to be done, you do it by hand and human strength. Intense, backbreaking, extreme heat and humidity filled the past 3 days. I busted up 3 concrete pipes remaining from a previous structure. We’ve moved lots of dirt, laid and carried hundreds of bricks and twisted hundreds of ties around many rods of rebar.

Through all the hard work the love and affection of the children fuel our endurance. They treat serving us like we are kings and queens. It’s an honor for them to serve us. These little girls are grinning as they get the chance to wipe the sweat from our faces. As we break from the hot sun they massage our backs. When we try to do something nice for them they politely refuse.

I thought this last year and again this year. Their love is the purest manifestation of Christ’s love for us. Their love is pure and unconditional. They don’t care what we look like. They don’t judge us.

The work is hard and the heat is intense, but serving these kids and our Father makes it all worth it.

There are some skills I’ve picked up in the last few days that I never expected.

I’ve learned to tie rebar, I’ve used a hoe—aka chop-shop—to dig trenches, and I’m about to lay some brick.  Mason’s union, here I come! I’ve eaten at least three fruits for which I don’t know the name and I’ve sweated in two days more than the sum total of my life to this point.

As marvelous as all that has been, it is nothing compared to the gifts I’ve discovered.

There is still on this earth an innocence that defies life experience. It fills the gap-toothed smile of Heang as he works, shoulder to waist with me all afternoon.

There is still unconditional love.  It is the shy grin of Pony, a waif of a girl, who is thrilled to do her part by dabbing wet cloths over my face and arms.

There is the visible strength of God woven through the cords of a life, frayed but not broken by trials inflicted by evil. It is in the motherly hand of Samoeun, a survivor of the Pol Pot regime, a faithful daughter of Christ, and a gentle mother to more than sixty.

I’ve been here less than a week, and I’ve been changed forever. Not merely by the verdant beauty of the countryside, not by the eclectic, mad bustle of unregulated traffic (though my prayer life is better for that experience), not even by the sheer awakening of a life experience so foreign from my own.

I’ve been indelibly marked by my Savior in a way I’ve never known before. These children who are timidly anxious for a hug are eager to work hard in the heat. They know we’ve come to build a schoolhouse for them, and yet the hardest thing I have done so far is try to convince Piching to give me my tools back. He insists on doing the work himself, and does it well and without rest. I’ve been through a number of tasks as I look for ways to be helpful without my chop-chop.  They love freely, serve joyfully, and live simply. There is so little clutter in their lives, and so strong a witness of Christ from their ‘parents’, that I suppose it shouldn’t be a wonder that they radiate Him.  But, to see Christ smile will always be wondrous, I think.  I bet it was stunning when He walked the earth, and it remains lovely today.

I could write forever and not capture the essence of that. I think that’s just how God is. He must be experienced.  And here, in a Cambodian orphanage, I am doing that.  God is not closer here than anywhere else in the world, but He is very present. His breath means a new life for the children who come here. His power is at work in their nation. His love is evident in their hearts.

In these few days, my God has revealed Himself as bigger than ever before. Not just because it’s amazing to know He’s everywhere in the world. But to know how much of Him one life can hold awes me.

I will leave a little broken I think, with a piece of me forever in the outskirts of Phnom Penh.  But I welcome that. May God break what confines me so I may be open for more of Him.

Our first full day in Cambodia was exhausting, adventurous and lots of fun. We had Cambodian breakfast which consisted of noodles and tea. Then we set out for the Choeung Ek Genocidal Center also known as, “the killing fields.”

The killing fields are a sacred place. In 1980 after the fall of the Khmer Rouge regime, thousands of bodies were unearthed. Women and children were not spared. In the museum it said the children were killed so that they could not take out revenge for killing their parents.

Imagine being able to tour the sacred grounds of the holocaust in Germany with a survivor. We were extremely fortunate to have Samoeun Taing, Pastor Vek’s wife, walking the grounds. She told us stories of how she and Vek escaped twice from the Khmer Rouge. By the way, you can read Vek and Samoeun’s story of survival in the book, Ordeal in Cambodia.

Samoeun described their days of survival saying, “Every day is Monday.” Meaning, there were no days off. Each day they had to pray for food and that God would protect them.

Samoeun showed us the killing tree. This was a tree used to kill infants, smashing their heads and bodies against it. One path was roped off and you could see bones emerging from the soil. The sign said that bones still rise to the top after 30 years.

In the center of the killing fields is a huge memorial filled with the skulls of the victims. This memorial shocks and humbles. It’s difficult for me to understand how someone could do this to their own people.

We left the killing fields and headed to the orphanage, as our leader JB aptly put it, “from a place of death to a place of life.” We spent time surveying the job site where we’ll be working. Then we spent time playing games with the kids. Rian and I had a fun game of keep away going. Then I played catch with another kid. The pure joy that you see in these children is refreshing.

We ate lunch at Friends. Friends restaurant takes kids off the street, gives them jobs and training on running a business. The food was outstanding.

We said goodbyes to our other team as they headed to Batdambang. Then our team went to the king’s palace and national museum. Honestly the museum was a bit lackluster. The buildings themselves are ornate structures, extraordinary to look at and inside are filled with Buddhas, many many Buddhas.

Back to the hotel for a break then we went walking the streets of Phnom Penh. New Life Church, our partner over here, is just around the corner from our hotel. So we walked there. Our guide and translator Phillip happened to be there and came out to greet us. He gave us a tour of the church. Then Phillip mentioned that the college service was starting at 5:15. He asked if we’d like to attend and speak to the group. Since I am a Toastmaster I was glad they asked me to speak.

After some singing in Khmer, I was invited to the stage to speak. This is an experience I can cross of the bucket list, speaking through a translator. As we sang I thought what I’d say. Bill, our leader, suggested I talk about why we were there and our experiences last year. I tied that in with the idea of service and how as followers of Christ, we’re called to service no matter where we are, in Atlanta or Cambodia.

I’d say a few sentences and then my translator would repeat back what I said in Khmer. At one point I joked, after a long phrase, “Did I really say all that?” To which my team laughed but none of the Cambodians did. I guess it was lost in translation.

Leaving church we went to eat at Khmer Surin. Our team was so very tired. The traveling, walking and playing finally caught up to us. We were falling out right at the dinner table.

That’s the first day and it was so great. Today I’m looking forward to attending New Life Church and meeting more folks. Later we’re heading back to the orphanage.

Thanks again for all your prayers. God is at work here in Cambodia!