"Are you happy??"

Valerie and I just returned from a weekend retreat, which took us to the Mondelkiri province in East Cambodia near the border with Vietnam. We went on this retreat with Valerie's school, where 200 staff members on 4 buses journied to this little province known for its waterfalls, mounatins, and hill tribes. Valerie and I jumped at the opportunity to get out of the busy city of Phnom Penh and see more of what the countryside of Cambodia looked like for the long weekend we had due to women's day. Little did we know that a retreat with a bunch of Khmers would immerse us so deeply in the culture, and provide us with so many interesting stories and amusing experiences. All weekend, we were constantly asked "Are you happy??" The answer was always yes, but what I really wanted to say was, "Yes, but I'm also hot, nauseous, uncomfortable, exhausted, confused..."

Valerie and I sat at the back of a large greyhound bus, and immediately noticed that we were the only westerners. We had no idea what was in store for us for the next 3 days, but we knew it was going to be an adventure as soon as one of the teachers grabbed a microphone and didn't stop talking for the next 9 hours. He spoke only in khmer, and alternated between telling stories, jokes, and singing songs. Sometimes other people would stand up and sing a song A Cappella. At one point someone brought out a megaphone, which produced a call and answer session. They asked us to join in and sing a song, but val and I refused. Val toyed with the idea of singing Toni Braxton's "Unbreak my Heart" but we decided against it. We left at 5 am in the morning, but didn't arrive until 4 pm that afternoon, due to two hour-long meal breaks, and many other "pee pee and poo poo breaks" (as one lady called it) which consisted of everyone walking out into an open field to relieve themself. On one of these breaks I got out to use the bathroom, but I was extremely nervous because it is in this part of the region where there are thousands of landmines left over from the Americans during the Vientam war. I couldn't decide which was worse... peeing in sight of 200 Cambodians or taking a chance with the landmines.

We arrived to our hotel, and moved into our room which we shared with 2 other teachers. They spoke good english, but we still had to speak slowly and carefully with them. They were very nice, always sharing food and asking us questions about where we came from. It was a learning experience to sleep so closely with them, and we discovered many differences in culture. We received several confused looks when we didnt eat a full breakfast of rice and pork every morning, or when we didn't shower 4 times a day, as they did. Our roommates seemed to be very concerned about us waking up in the morning. We were required to meet on the bus at 7 am, after having eaten breakfast, so Val and I set our alarm for 6:15. Our roommates woke up at 5:30, and asked us every 10 minutes whether we were going to wake up, yet. Our frustration continued when we were ready to go by 7 am, but due to the many pictures being photographed and excursions to breakfast, we didn't end up leaving until 8 am. Val and I had no idea what the itinerary or schedule was for the weekend, so we relied on several of the teachers to shuffle us around. Everyone was always concerned about our well-being: "Have you eaten breakfast?" "Did you sleep well?" "Did you have a bath?" "Don't miss the bus!" and "Are you happy??"

Eating meals was a stressful experience, but we relied on a few other teachers who kind of took us under their wing. They spoke great english, and I learned many interesting things about cambodian culture and history through long conversations with them. For meals, these four teachers always sat with us, ordered for us, and told us exactly how much to pay. Even after they helped us, we survived only by eating rice, bread, bananas and pringles. The alternatives were not pretty. By the end of the weekend, we had eaten (or more correctly, nibbled at): boar meat, boar skin (thick and chewy....), deer meat, questionable beef, chicken with its head and claws still attached, cow liver (we also had the option here of eating cow lung, stomach, and intestines, but we refused), a giant spider (tarantula-sized), fried bugs, sticky rice in a bamboo shoot, sugar cane, and few other treats that our friends offered to us. It was a culinary adventure, and I'm sure you won't blame us for the fact that as soon as we got back home, we ordered pizza immediately.

The province was beautiful. We visited a few waterfalls that were spectacular even now, in the dry season. We drove to the top of a "mountain", which was really more of a hill but offered a beautiful view of the countryside. I learned that Cambodia used to be over 75% forest, but now due to de-forestation it is reduced to under 40%. They've lost their native species of rhino, and they're close to losing most of their tigers. This area was impacted hard from the Vietnam War, and the Cambodian civil war where it was a major strong-hold for the Khmer Rouge. We also got some upclose looks at the native people here, who still travel between villages by elephants. They look extremely poor, and their houses are both picturesque and shockingly simple. To get to all of these remote and desolate destinations, we took the huge passenger bus. It was a little comical, driving along a dusty and bumpy road through the wilderness, over tiny bridges and through villages made of straw houses, in our huge 18-wheel buses. There was a thick red dust on everything (literally, you could wipe it off of the clothes and the seats in front of you), and Val and I even put on the surgical masks that Cambodians often wear, to avoid swollowing massive amounts of the red dirt. I still have a coat on my feet that will take a few more scrubings to get rid of. I'm sure we looked dirty, sweaty and very unkempt, but it seemed that everyone wanted a picture with us. We were constantly being pulled around to be in a photograph, and were asked by total strangers whether they could take a picture with us. There were times where we would just unload the buses to take photos next to a non-descript tree or building. After this weekend, I think Val and I could appear in as many as 30 different family albums, where they will be shown to friends and family, accompanied with the saying "These were those weird foriegners who came to the province with us."

Sunday night there was a party, and Val and I joined in the fun of drinking and dancing. The dancing was all in khmer, and we learned how to do the traditional dance of moving your wrists, as you shuffle in a circle with the group around the dance floor. Just so you know, it's not about your wrists, it's about your feet. Val and I were exhausted after a full day of intense tourism, and we both fell asleep at the table waiting for the party to be over.

The experience was definitely unique and interesting, and although at times I wanted to shout, "What is going on!??!?" I really enjoyed having a closer look at Cambodian culture.