Patiently passing time

Of holding hands and red bouquets
And twilights trimmed in purple haze
And laughing eyes and simple ways
And quiet nights and gentle days with you
- Elvis Presley: 'Memories'

So what's happened since we last connected? Hmm... well, being virtually house-bound, life has not exactly been adventurous, unless you consider negotiating the bathroom on crutches, out-patient visits to hospital or the awaiting of test results to be particularly exciting. But life isn't all about excitement though is it? Thankfully not, because it would make my current state of immobility ever the more frustrating.

The hospital trip last Monday was fine; having a plaster-cast cut off with an angle-grinder is a pretty tense experience but thankfully nothing important was removed in error. I now have a brand-new cast, only this time it is up to my knee and a little more cumbersome, so it's taking some getting used to. At least I can rest my heel down now. I do manage a few forays into the outside world though and managed to go to football with my uncle again last week although did find myself doing some inadvertent break-dancing on the rain-sodden path running up to my front door.

As I write this, I'm looking out of my bedroom window admiring the garden as its many colours change betwixt the sun waving goodbye to the summer through the clouds, and the occasional downpour. The hospital consultant had asked me if I liked football & cricket and that if I did, I was to watch as much of it as possible on TV as I am not to attempt any normal activity for at least another month. Trouble is, I haven't got a telly so this gives my mind an opportunity to exercise itself whilst the rest of me quietly awaits the nod to resume normal service.

Just taking things a day at a time is something I need to learn to do as I can't help but drift off to foreign lands. The familiarity of the UK was admittedly attractive at first but that has tailed off sharply leaving me in a sort of limbo-land. Ideally, the best of both worlds would be the order of the day like many enjoy serving overseas: a season's service then a season's return to maintain relationships. In reality, I'll never own my own place in the UK and this week I have been challenged about making a decision about doing one or the other.

Maybe we all have days wondering if the grass is greener somewhere else but I'm fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to explore this and the grass abroad has often been sun-scorched or non-existent when you compare to how lush it is in the UK. But like the grass, it isn't as cut-and-dried as that - abroad there are stretches of lushness whilst for me, patches of bareness increasingly exist here. I guess I am something of an idealist at heart which is why the verse from Elvis's 'Memories' precedes this episode.

Facebook messages from my Khmer students tug at my heart as does the plight of the Vietnamese. Life itself in Cambodia is an attractive prospect, all things considered. Ministry is one thing but the draw of affordable living is another. Could I overcome some of the issues I experienced last time? Do I need to? Should I return to Siemreap or settle somewhere else? Do I actually need to seek out a church where I 'fit'? Is church involvement a prerequisite anyway?

Maybe I'm having some sort of mid-life crisis or something but if you're merely being patient with the patience of God then there is no crisis - you just wait on Him and He will reveal Himself in His time.

Finally, I am very thankful for the friends I have in my life; despite my independence, I have had to rely on help which has been very much appreciated. Hopefully my reckless driving of the supermarket mobility scooter hasn't put anybody off!

In the eye of the storm

OK you could be fooled into thinking that I'm writing about the rainy season but although I'm not actually writing this from Cambodia, I thought it worthwhile putting down in words the way my life has been unfolding. If you've read my accounts of life in Cambodia you'll recall that there were times when life was a challenge - cultural differences and illness all played their part at some time or other but feedback received upon leaving and since returning from the UK has included the question of when a return to Cambodia can be expected.

Now I know that God uses circumstances to speak to us all and I cannot recall ever feeling so unsettled in the UK. I thought I needed to 'give it a go' here to see if this was where roots were to be laid down and indeed, I was glad for familiarity upon my return to Bournemouth.

But.. it hasn't worked out. Maybe I've changed, maybe Cambodia has given me an improved insight into situations that I know God has called me out of. In the beginning, I just wanted to settle back in the UK but I can't, I wasn't allowed to and I soon I found myself longing for the authenticity, gentleness and friendship of the Khmer people. I remember the time the Cambodian pastor laid his head on my shoulder as he listened intently to something I was telling him; nothing iffy about that, it's just the way they are. The facebook messages addressing me as 'teacher' and hearing tales of the kids enjoying the monsoon rains all compounds the thought of 'what am I doing here?'. Upon returning to the UK I can't help but bring these nations' peoples into comparison, especially when the riots were happening the other week and, amongst other things, when my next-door neighbour had a go when I apparently parked 'on his land'.

So what's happened? Well, I've moved house again, I lost my job when the school went into liquidation, I broke my foot in a motorcycle accident and now have an MRI scan to get to the bottom of the headaches I've been having. It's been a nightmare and something's telling me that coming back here was a mistake - but maybe this is how God is speaking to me. I do realise of course that there are people facing far worse situations than I and this is not a 'why me?' message - in fact, why not me? - what makes me exempt from suffering? I'm reminded of the story of Job, a faithful, God-fearing man whose world crashed down around him losing everything he owned and family he loved. But still He praised God and in the end, all was restored unto him and then some.

Now I'm not Job, I don't have the smallest percentage of faithfulness that he possessed but he walked right and that inspires me in these uncertain times. I am reminded of what Jesus has already done for us and that our salvation is a done deal for those who have accepted Him and aspire to do His will in every aspect of their lives.

OK so some things do worry me right now; maybe life isn't as I thought it'd pan out. But I do know that God is in control and I will endeavour to keep that at the forefront of my mind.

A day in the life of an epchai

1 Peter 4:10-11

As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.

This morning I was up at 5am to be at the Vietnamese school where I'd arranged to go out with some of the kids to do what they have to do to support their families - garbage picking or 'epchai'. Than Nguyen and I walked to the 'depot', a collection of houses in a nearby street, where we were soon joined by three of our students, (one more joined us en route) ready to head out onto the busy dusty streets during the Cambodian sunrise to see what we could find.

Grubby but always grinning, the kids skipped off ahead of me with their bags ready to fill with whatever had been left behind. There were five of us, me and the four kids aged between seven & fourteen years old. First we went up to Psa Leu Market and had a rummage around as the traders were unpacking their wares ready to sell; then we made our way back towards the river, crossing open sewers and stopping at intervals to go through rubbish bins by the side of the road. I winced as they fearlessly darted in and out of the traffic as they homed in on more dumped rubbish on the opposite side of the road.

Then, upon returning to the school grounds, we had a game of catch, then football, which we all enjoyed immensely. Of course, that's what we all know that they should've been doing all along, rather than traipsing the streets looking for rubbish for which they receive about $1.50 per day, if they manage to do three shifts.

But who am I to comment? There's not much that can be done to stop the kids having to go out and do this type of work. Their parents are very poor and often illiterate with a poor grasp of the Cambodian language, merely doing what they can to get by. It can't be easy having to exploit your own children just to pay the rent and feed the family. Tragically, there are far worse lengths that parents go to use their children to raise money for which prevention is the key before rescue becomes the only option.

Sadly, at school-leaving age, many are unable to find jobs and so are forced to continue the life of a rubbish picker, a vocation which is looked down upon. As a Christian organisation, we aim educate the kids to give them a chance that they may well go on to achieve something and also assist the families wherever possible.

On Sundays, there are two church services held at the school for the Vietnamese and both youth and adult services are growing in number. The Gospel is shared, hope is extended and lives changed.

One of the leaders is to return to their home nation so I have been asked to stay out here for a further year to continue teaching at the school, learn Vietnamese and to provide administrative support so I will be returning to the UK in May for a brief period before heading back out here. It's going to be quite a responsibility but one that I am ready for.

Thanks for taking time to keep up with all that has been happening out here. Most of all I appreciate your prayers thus far and also for these coming months.

A mission to the south (update)

I know I've written about my 2-week trip already but I've realised that, upon reflection, there's so much more to be shared so here it is again in its entirety!

Two weeks break has enabled me to take in some of the other gems that Cambodia has to offer. From Phnom Penh I journeyed south to the seaside town of Kep, trekking around the national park which I had virtually all to myself. The mountainside provides amazing views of the surrounding coastline and distant bonfires from local villages.

I stayed a night in a bamboo hut on Koh Tonsay (Rabbit Island) which has no motor vehicles and electricity for only a few hours a day. It was good to be able to inform people of the plight of the Vietnamese and the work being done by the CMA in Siemreap.

From there, I took the bus to Kampot which is about 26km along the coast. There was a German guy on the bus who was a little too keen to join me to find a guesthouse in order to share a room to lower costs. Whilst it’s good to help people on the road, I had a gut feeling that this would not be a wise decision and despite repeatedly telling him I was a confirmed lone-traveller, he seemed to get increasingly agitated. I told him that if he had a problem, he knew where to find me but that he’d have to find a room elsewhere. Thankfully, he went on his way and I went off to find a pub with wi-fi so that I could follow the Cherries, which I managed to do.

The next day, I took a 100km bus ride to Sihanoukville which is a coastal town in southern Cambodia that sees many contrasts – from the opulence of the Russians who own significant portions of the area to the long-time Euro ex-pats who, by the look of them, perhaps really should think about going home. And then of course there’s the Khmers whose faces light up when attempts are made to communicate with them in their own language and when you smile and show them respect – that’s what their culture is all about..goodness knows what they must think of ours.

I hooked up with a French girl so we split tuk-tuk fares whilst trying to find accommodation. The middle beaches are over-crowded and the surrounding area is a tourist ghetto so we headed for Otres beach, with white sand and swaying palms. We found mushroom-shaped bamboo-thatched beach bungalows which even had a dormitory which was her preferred choice of accommodation. I had my own simple bungalow with just a thin mattress, pillow, towel and a hanging wickerwork light.

We chatted on the beach and it was obvious that she lived a hedonistic lifestyle but then that’s what many backpackers are all about: they travel to distant places to party and to be devoid of the cares and responsibilities of back home. She’d been talking about a book she was reading about people who have everything but still have something missing. So I gave her my testimony through which it was revealed to her what that missing something is. She listened intently to the story of how I came to Christ and although her response was one of respectful apathy, I prayed that my words would linger long in her memory and that those seeds, having been initially sown, would then be watered by the continued chain of divine appointment.

Anyway, as I spent the next day or so vomiting for England, I decided to move to another part of Sihanoukville where I could recuperate in the relative luxury of a room with air-conditioning.

I stumbled across a street in town full of bars and westerners who obviously aren’t in Cambodia to visit temples. I heard some of them discussing their previous night’s behaviour and it saddened me: these guys were British, probably retirees, and I thought to myself how sad it is that they don’t know any other way or if they do, choose to not adhere to it. It’s nice to be different from those who come here merely to corrupt and exploit the innocence of the local people.

I heard another Brit in an internet café the other day, shouting in English to try to make himself understood and quite frankly it was utterly embarrassing, everything I hate about Brits abroad; he then upped and left without paying.

At my accommodation, it was a shame though as I went down to reception to discover the normally-playful guesthouse dog lying in a pool of blood. I tried to find out what happened:

Me: “What’s happened to the dog?”
Receptionist: “Someone try to kill him”
Me: “Why ever would anyone want to do that??”
Receptionist: “So they can eat him.”

Well, I did ask.

The next morning I discovered that the dog had since died. I didn’t, however, ask how he was disposed of so I stuck to beans on toast at the guesthouse restaurant just in case.

So anyway, I spent time on the beach this week and Asia is a place where you can get hassled relentlessly on beaches but at Victory beach the Cambodians aren’t as full-on as other places I’ve experienced.

Before long though, I was approached by two young local women, one of whom wanted to deliver the services of manicure and pedicure and the other was selling fried lobster from a large basket carried above her head. Now let’s get this straight, I am not a regular at receiving such pampering but before long I was having my nails clipped and filed (although at times it felt like she was using an angle grinder).

I was being asked the usual questions: “Where your wife?” and “Why you no married?” whilst at the same time refusing the continued sales patter of the lady lobster seller, who couldn’t understand how I’d succumbed to the lure of a manicure whilst not desiring one of her once-fresh fried lobsters.

“Your skin velly bad - my lobster good for your skin” she said. “If you have lobster, your skin get velly good and you find velly nice wife when you go home!”

Even with such a high level of commitment to marketing creativity, I continued to resist and her lobsters remained at the mercy of the mid-day sun and on she went to find some custom.

Still having my nails done (sounds really weird saying that) I was talking to the girl in English and bits of broken Khmer about being a Christian and working with the Vietnamese. She said she was a Buddhist and when I asked her why, she said it was because her parents were. Amazingly, she then asked me why I was a Christian so I was able to tell her about Jesus and why He died, about grace, forgiveness and heaven. As she carried on clipping my nails I went on to share my testimony in part, in a way that I sensed would be relevant to her.

As I told her that Jesus loved her, her response was interesting. She asked how Jesus could love her whilst she didn’t love Him so I told her that He loved her anyway and that He had a plan for her life.

Unfortunately, I didn’t know her name but God does and my prayer is that it is a name that is written in the Book of Life. You know, it is a whole lot easier sharing Jesus when you realize that God is already at work in that person’s life.. and this encounter was God using me the way I’m wired and it is for reasons like this day that I am out here doing what I’m doing.

So, with a tinge of sadness, I left Sihanoukville for Phnom Penh and then back home to Siemreap. It wasn't without incident as the bus had another puncture and we had to stop off at a tyre-fitter's to have the spare put on. The spare, however, was bald and even had a split in it! Thankfully, we made it back OK :0)

Until next time
Dan

CMA - Ministry to the Vietnamese in Cambodia

I just wanted to give you some information about the Christian Missionary Alliance which is the ministry that I work with and the place where I teach English.

The CMA have different ministries worldwide but this one is based in Canada, located here in Cambodia, reaching out to the marginalized Vietnamese population.

There are two Vietnamese staff, Kim and Than Nguyen: Kim manages the projects and Than Nguyen is both pastor and teacher. There are projects here in the Siemreap area, a school which is here in town and a church (below) which is actually on a floating barge on the Tonle Sap lake which is about an hour's drive and boat trip away.

The Vietnamese have been in Cambodia for many centuries and are truly exiled and on the edge of society. They are amongst the poorest of the poor here and their lives are a daily struggle for survival. I think this is one of the reasons why I enjoy my work with them because they don't have any rights to education or land-ownership and seem truly grateful for that which you aim to do for them.

The people cannot return to Vietnam because they are not recognized by the Vietnamese government as they have no such identification. They originally came to Cambodia to fish the Tonle Sap lake and they actually live on the lake itself in floating villages. Many tourists here go on excursions to visit the floating villages as they are seen as an attraction but when I went there with Kim, there was nothing attractive about it. OK, the surroundings of the lake are beautiful but the lives of the people are truly pitiful and I felt sad that people make money out of selling boat trips to visit this impoverished people group.

They struggle to make a living; the unique tide patterns of the lake mean that its depth changes quite radically and the fishermen often have to move their families to where the most abundant source of fish is found. Many don't have the money to buy drinking water and so drink the water from the lake which is, as you can imagine, used for a whole manner of things. Even after boiling, its muddy content merely conceals a whole range of water-borne diseases.

However, their daily battle to survive has brought many to Christ although many find trusting in Him for their daily needs difficult. You can teach the people about hygiene and healthy eating but the problem is that they are too poor to invest in these lifestyles - bottled water and vegetables are costly staples and Than Nguyen struggles to meet the needs of the church, even as she loads her motorbike up with as much water and vegetables as she can carry.

One of the other problems faced by Kim and Than Nguyen is of families willing to sell their children to gangs promising them work in the 'coffee shops' of Phnom Penh - from the outside these establishments look innocent enough but they are merely a front for brothels. Once tipped off that there is a real possibility of a family being lead this way, they do all they can to educate them in order to keep the child at home. However, the lure of employment in this manner is often too strong to keep them in the family.

An example of this was one of the girls that attends the church on the lake who was actually told by her parents that she would be sold in order to pay off a gambling debt. Apparently the figure they would receive would be around $500 - I can't imagine what it must be like to have to consider selling one's own child into imminent abuse.

As a reward for good behaviour and diligent learning, the students are given tokens in class that they can save up and then, at the end of the week, they are allowed into the school storeroom (photo above) where they can redeem the tokens they've earned for bags of rice, shampoo, drinks, toothpaste, clothing, shoes and school books.

The kids who come to the school often lead difficult lives as they combine studying with their 'ep chai' duties of scouring the streets looking for rubbish to sell on (photos below). They are used as a source of income by their parents who often run up large debts gambling, which is rife in these poor communities. Sadly, I've heard stories of the children being beaten at home and one child whose prostitute mother actually tried to drown her before a neighbour stepped in to save her life. Many of the Vietnamese can't get good jobs and scrape a living doing what they can to make ends meet.

Than Nguyen (pictured here) works hard for these people; her love for them shines through even when she has to deal with difficult situations at the lake or when the kids at the school misbehave. I also tutor her in English as she has expressed a wish to be able to share the ministry's needs with Western visitors out here; this is enjoyable and her confidence and fluency is improving. She has needed assistance for a while now and thankfully, Kim has found a Vietnamese lady who will be joining us in February but more help is still required.

Until next time..

With every blessing,
Dan

Wild in the country

I have had to make some changes to my schedule which will now free me up to do something a bit more practical. I'm enjoying my time here despite the challenges that I've had over recent weeks and am glad that God is not only doing a work through me but also in me. I enjoy teaching but have learned that it's OK as long as I'm left to get on with doing just that – teaching. That's what I enjoy about the Vietnamese ministry, the fact that you feel appreciated in what can otherwise feel like a totally alien environment. They seemingly have long-term plans for me there but I can't stick my neck out that far yet. I just want to follow how God is leading me, what he is showing me about my strengths and limitations and then maybe I'll be able to see the great beyond.

Got checked out of my guest house – again. I don't know how they do it, as they know I'm long-term but there you go, another one of those communication misunderstandings. Packed my bags and then unpacked them again.

I was riding along on my mountain bike here in town when a tuk-tuk overtook (see what I did there?) whose two Cambodian female passengers in brightly-coloured hats were smiling, waving and trying to talk to me in Khmer. Trouble is, as I was frantically trying to remember how to reply to them in Khmer, I lost concentration and wobbled off the road, onto the 'pavement' and nearly fell off – much to the delight of the girls in the tuk-tuk, who disappeared, laughing into the distance.

I have , however, got back onto more of an even keel and this week I've been helping one of the local tuk-tuk drivers set up a website and blog to help him with his business. I also ate dinner with the guest house staff, who say that I'm part of their family – but again, I looked on rather squeamishly as the owner tucked into his duck embryo. Oh, and deep-fried snake is being sold again at the stall down the road. Some people reckon the locusts are nice but you have to remove the legs before consumption as they are razor sharp.

Met with another guy called Danny who is a friend from church here in Siemreap. Originally from the USA, he's a very interesting guy who, through his home church, has pioneered sustainable bee-keeping projects here in Cambodia and I joined him on a visit to the countryside to see one of the projects he helped to set up.

It was an early start and we set out on his motorbike (as my dirtbike is still at the mechanics) and headed out towards Angkor Wat. On the way we passed through some beautiful traditional villages and stopped off to sample some pure palm juice and palm sugar which we saw being boiled down from its juice form. It's a good system whereby a pipe runs right down the palm tree and the juice is collected at the bottom. There's various things they can do with it and they sell the palm sugar wrapped in small packets of bamboo.

Sat on the metal rack on the back of the bike was doing my backside no good at all but a welcome break was had when we stopped off again to have a quick look at one of the ruined temples, which was very similar to the main Angkor temple.

We also saw some decaying artillery guns left in the bush from the civil war. It is worth noting that you shouldn't go off the beaten track in Cambodia as it is still one of the most heavily landmined countries in the world. In the week, I bought a book from a guy in town who has to make money to feed his family by selling books on Cambodian history - he lost both his arms in a land-mine explosion and it really brings it home to you when you encounter the victims in person and there are so many of them here in town.

Nevertheless, we got back on the bike and continued on our way along the bumpy, dusty country roads – until we came to an abrupt halt – puncture! We managed to limp to the Cambodian village-version of Kwik Fit and soon the bike had its rear wheel removed and the flip-flop attired mechanic was removing a twisted nail from the tyre and busily burning the inner-tube to make it maleable enough to repair.

It was at this point that my stomach started rumbling; I had been warned that the ingestion of palm juice can cause some to experience diarrhea but as it was so soon after I'd had it, surely it couldn't be that - or could it? Anyway, I didn't have time to ponder where it had come from; all I knew was that I had to find a toilet pronto and people here in these villages don't usually have toilets but anyway, after a bit of negotiation by Danny (who is fluent in Khmer) I soon found myself in a shed at the bottom of someone's garden, making use of their Asian squat-toilet.

Anyway, you really don't want to know any more detail other than to say that about an hour later I resurfaced and gingerly made my way back to Kwik Fit where they'd managed a temporary repair to the bike. Unfortunately though, it was too risky for me to continue the journey on the back of the trailbike - no, not because of my diarrhea, but because the weight of two people would be too much for the tyre to handle.

So, I took a ride on the back of Danny's colleague's bike and we arrived at the guy's house in the heat of the midday sun and it wasn't long before we were all trooping off into the Cambodian bush to search for nesting bees. Following our Khmer expert, we tramped through boggy ground, seeing flora and fauna that I had never seen before and then we'd dart off into the bush to look for sites where bees had made their homes. I even had the opportunity to sample some bush tucker for myself, drinking the sterile fluid from a carnivorous plant.

We saw a couple of places where bees had been previously and saw where the honey had been harvested and then I was urged to remain quiet as we darted off in another direction. We stopped, and there it was in the middle of the bush – a large honeycomb with thousands of bees on it – so amazing to see it within a tree in its natural environment. We were all crouched down, marveling at this sight when suddenly some of the bees started coming for us..

Our Khmer leader quickly lit a fistful of sticks he had in his hand (the smoke keeps the bees away) and we quickly followed him, legging it through the bush trying to find our way back to the path. We made it, but so did the pursuing bees and we were all soon frantically trying to swat them away from us. One of them flew up my t-shirt and the guide had them on his shirt, all over his hat and everywhere. By this time though, the smoke was doing the trick and the bees were soon far behind us. Thankfully, no-one got stung. They were scary looking things too.

We eventually made it back into town where we stopped off for a bag of sugarcane juice. It was a really good day and you'll be relieved to hear that my stomach has settled down nicely.

Again, thank you for reading my blog and for being a part of my journey.

With every blessing until next time,
Dan

Trepidation? What trepidation?

Funny as I look back to the time when I had just arrived out here and there was a just tinge of trepidation (well, probably a bit more than a tinge) about how things would pan out... and there was me going on about stepping out in faith. I knew this was what I had to do and I knew that I could step out in faith and trust that everything would fall into place. Admittedly, there is the odd day of challenge, but one cannot deny that the His plan is undoubtedly unfolding as it should.

Have thankfully moved back into the original guest house and now have a different room which I'm told is mine for keeps; I even have a warm shower which is a bonus although it isn't essential.

The area within the grounds of the guest house has a lot of greenery, palm trees and a few seated areas to chill out in the shade. Exotic creatures can be heard and the other day I saw a colourful butterfly the size of a small bird. The inside of the guest house is decorated with traditional Khmer art and typical Indochinese-style wooden furniture.

My ground-floor room has a small TV, a fridge, a bamboo clothes rail, an en suite bathroom and the all-important ceiling fan. The windows look out towards the eating area, have metal grilles and slideable mosquito screens. It has a tiled floor and the room gets cleaned once a day, usually while I'm out teaching, so very convenient. It's modest and it has all I need.

The other day I pulled up on my loaned 100cc Honda Dream motorbike and was promptly invited over to the outdoor table of the owner's family who were eating. They beckoned me to sit down and I understood that they wanted to offer me some Khmer food. “OK”, I said and an array of various types of veg and small dishes of spices were shuffled before me. Then the owner's mother placed an egg in front of me, to which I thought, “OK, at least they aren't trying to feed me deep-fried snake or anything.”

How wrong I was.

She took a teaspoon and knocked the top off the egg and there it was inside: duck embryo. It was one of the grossest things I have ever seen and I made my excuses and left the table feeling decidedly ill. There was an Australian woman at the table who, in French, politely declined their offer too (French is still occasionally spoken here).

I've had some very positive feedback from the ministries where I teach, which is what I need as I'm the type who needs reassurance that what I aim to do is well received. However, the heat is an issue and keeping oneself protected and cool is essential. I've just added another Khmer student to my schedule; he is a former monk whose brother is a Christian and we are studying conversational English and some simple Bible verses with him as he has been asking me a lot of questions. Please pray for him, his name is Gurt.

Another of my students in the evening class, Sen, is a former officer in the Cambodian army who fought the Khmer Rouge in the civil war here. When he went into the army his studies were put on hold and he now works as a tour guide and actually speaks English well but is keen to improve and is one of my best students. The older generation here have many stories to tell.

I've found a cheap eatery in town and I was there on Saturday night, sat at one of the outside tables to see the world as it passes by. A man pushing his elderly father in a wheelchair approached me; the elderly man was a blind amputee and I was overcome with empathy for them, especially as it reminded me of when I used to take my mum out in her wheelchair. The difference here is that the people need to eat and clothe themselves as there's no social security system, something we in the west can often take for granted. I handed them some Cambodian money and I prayed for them as they went on their way.

The Vietnamese school closes for a couple of weeks in January and I'm hoping to take time off and explore some of Cambodia, especially the Killing Fields in Phnom Penh so that I can understand more of what happened during the genocide here. I do need to find someone to cover for me at the evening class so if anyone fancies coming over to help me out, let me know!

Despite what Bing Crosby says, it doesn't feel a lot like Christmas out here but in church, it does. We've been singing carols and studying Luke chapter two, the birth of Jesus, God's gift to mankind. In verse 8 we learn of the shepherds' visitation by the angels who told the good news, that a Saviour was born in Bethlehem.
And what did the shepherds do? They took action! They went to Bethlehem and witnessed the Lord Jesus for themselves. So as we're thinking about gifts this season, maybe we can remember that Jesus is the greatest gift of them all. He has given everything for us, so how are we presenting ourselves as a gift to Him?

GIFT:
Give your life to Him
Invest your life for Him (time, talent, treasure, testimony)
Face the future with Him
Tell others about Him

You see, HE is the reason for the season.

Until next time..

A day in the life

I write this in the restaurant area of the guest house, looking across at my room with a strange feeling because someone else is now staying in it. I don't know how the staff here managed to do it but I have had to vacate and go and stay at the guest house over the road because they somehow double-booked it. Apparently I can move back here tomorrow but I'll have a different room; it has been a pain because these couple of days have been very busy and having to pack and unpack my bags again is a hassle I could've done without. But that's the way it goes sometimes and you just have to roll with it.

However, days like today remind me of how important it is to take notice when God is tapping you on the shoulder and reminding you that it is time to take a step in a different direction of your journey. That's what it felt like for me over the months preceding the trip out here: despite the pull of a comfort zone of sorts, He was clear about what I had to do and circumstantially everything was pointing towards coming out here. Today has been part of what all this is about, in allowing God to use me just as I am and although I didn't realise it at the time (as it is all part of a normal day) it has dawned on me that I am bang in the middle of where He wants me to be and what He wants me to do.

This morning I was so humbled by the Vietnamese youngsters in the morning class. They are really coming along well with their alphabet, numbers and basic vocabulary although it is a bit repetitive teaching 2-3 classes pretty much the same thing. We start and end the classes with a short prayer and then out they all troop, one by one saying “goodbye teacher!” and “see you tomorrow!” But what really got me today was that as they were walking out, a couple of them grabbed my hand and kissed it. It was one of those life moments that I'll never forget, such a simple but heartfelt gesture of appreciation. I know I've said this before but it is an honour playing a part in their education.

After teaching the kids, I have a short break then I have one-to-one tutoring with Wing who is the Vietnamese teacher at the school. She speaks broken English but with time and encouragement, she is actually a lot better than she gives herself credit for. Today she shared how God has answered her prayer that she would be able to study English with a foreigner as she had been unable to afford to go to an international school back in Vietnam. She said that it can be frustrating for her because they sometimes have mission teams from Canada, the USA and Europe visiting and she is unable to answer their questions and share the kids' stories but now she says that she is happy that she'll be able to communicate well with them.

It has been a bit problematic getting to the church for the evening class; the church has a couple of tuk-tuk drivers but they're not always available and as it would take about an hour to cycle there, one of the students has been kindly picking me up on her motorbike on her way there. Well, when she arrives, she gets off the bike and says: “teacher, you ride!” so I move my small backpack round to the front and climb onto the bike while she sits side-saddle on the back, which is a normal way for a woman to ride pillion in Asia.

Admittedly I didn't have a helmet and neither did she but I was wearing a straw hat which I may as well have exchanged for a paper bag, the use it would have been in the event of an accident. So off we went and were just chatting as we rode along when suddenly she shouts: “Teacher, STOP, POLICE!”

And there they were, the boys in brown, parked up on their motorbikes on the roadside, gesturing for us to pull over. So we pulled in; I got off the bike and started talking to them in my smattering of Khmer but I soon ran out of steam as I didn't understand a word he was saying in response to me. At least he hadn't been drinking (well, I don't think so). Anyway, my faithful student spoke to him and it transpired that she was breaking the law for not wearing a helmet and would have to pay a 'fine' so she handed him some cash and we were then allowed on our way. Oddly enough, he didn't have any problem with me so evidently it must be OK to wear a straw hat whilst riding a motorcycle over here. The fine? Oh, it was about 50p.

I taught the lesson which was mainly a Bible study on 1 Peter 3:4 which went well and they grasped the idea of inner beauty taking precedence over outer appearance. It did rain though, then the mozzies came out in force plus the neighbours were still noisily renovating their property which made speaking and listening difficult.
At the end of the lesson, Pastor Timothy arrived and he gave me the temporary use of a motorbike (and helmet) on which to get to and from the church so I now have motorised transport which is appreciated. It is an older machine and I feel a bit like Coco the Clown riding it as it has a comedy horn on it and when I press the various switches I expect it to squirt water in my eyes or something.

Nevertheless, I am very grateful.

Strictly Khmer Dancing

Reimund, from the Faroe Islands, whose English class I have taken over, married a local girl in a village wedding here. Starting at 7am with a fruit-carrying procession the colourful ceremony itself included worship songs, gospel message and the blessing plus a tradition which requires the bride and groom to wash the feet of their respective mothers and fathers -in- law. Close family descended upon Angkor Wat for the wedding photos followed by a meal and party at a large hotel venue later in the evening.

It was here that I experienced Cambodian dancing for the first time which I have to say that the wedding party from the Faroes had been excelling at (well sort of – a lot of arm-waving anyway). I'd only wandered off to find the gents toilet but on the way I was dragged onto the dance floor by some err.. let's say rather enthusiastic locals and before I knew it, I was participating in what can only be described as a sort of freestyle swimming motion with Bollywood hand movements whilst all following each around the dancefloor in a big circle. I managed a few circuits of the dance floor before realising what a prat I looked.

I have met many people out here, people with amazing stories of intervention, healing and of salvation. Some have been out here for years, others are more short-term. I heard one tale of some workers who were at one time going into the villages in Burma near to the border with Thailand. The atmosphere had felt very dark and heavy as the local witch doctors had not been happy about their visit and so the team moved on. Whilst traversing a river at the base of some mountains, the team felt something happening and there then followed what could only be described as a massive tremor during which everything around them shook violently for a few moments and then nothing.. complete peace. Although very shaken by this, the team moved on to the next village.

Upon arrival they were welcomed and they stayed and talked with the locals in their huts. They noticed a young boy hiding behind a tree who had been listening in as they talked. Later on, as they left the village, the boy came up to them and spoke - he told them that he lived in the last village where the witch doctors were. He told them that he'd listened and had accepted Jesus Christ but that the shamen had been furious about this and told how they had put a curse on the team and that they'd arranged that they would be killed as they left the village. He went on:

“I followed you out of our village but I knew that as they'd cursed you, I knew that something was going to happen. As you crossed the river at the base of that mountain, everything started to violently shake and I thought that this was it, that we were all about to die. But then I looked up and as the ground beneath me shook, I saw something bright and powerful reach down from the sky and suddenly everything was still. I knew that it was divine; I knew that we'd been saved”.

There have been recent reports of healings through prayer too; one lady in a village with a problematic broken shoulder was prayed for and regained full movement. Another, whose hand had been in some way deformed, was able to move it again. Whilst I was in this particular village though, a young man had just died after a long battle with a degenerative illness. His wife had left him too because of this and although it was a sad story it was one of salvation as he had accepted Jesus Christ after burning the idols he had set before him all of his life. He had become angry that they had not offered any solution to the illness that had gripped him but the pastor of the church where I teach had been one of the few who had visited him and prayed for him in the time running up to when God called him home.

I also had a purely-by-chance conversation with a Khmer guy who told me an amazing story: He said that he was orphaned at the age of one when the Khmer Rouge murdered his parents. He was then raised by an aunt as a Buddhist and then went on to become an actual monk. Fifteen years ago, he was visiting Angkor Wat in his orange robes (which many monks do and they can be seen at many of the pagodas here in town) when someone shared with him the concept of grace and of God's love and plan for his life which as a Buddhist, he had no comprehension of.

Attracted by this revelation, he started attending a local Khmer church and is now working as a local tour guide and has a ministry to local Khmers, leading many to the Lord. Amazingly, Christians have been be invited into the pagodas so that people can learn about the gospel; this nation is searching and those of us that are here to love these people, will hopefully get a glimpse of the love that God has for them.

To me, this is a prime example of what God is doing amongst the people here; they have an openness that I've not experienced before and seemingly a dissatisfaction with their thinly-veiled religiosity. At home, we have the Alpha Course to help people wrestle with the essential questions of life but out here, most, due to buddhism, are open for the truth to be taught. Many people respond and give their lives to Christ but it can take a long while for the roots of the spiritism in their lives to die away. In Phnom Penh however, the young people that move there to study, tend to leave their religious activity behind when they leave their villages and enter into a secular city lifestyle. So when they have a God-encounter, the deep-rooted ancestor-worship is no longer the barrier that it can be for the dwellers of more rural areas.

I have learned so much in this initial month; it has been hard getting to know the ex-pats already settled here but I'm hoping for opportunities to bless them instead of waiting for them to welcome me. It must be hard seeing people come and go – to build friendships only for that person to leave for their home country, so I do now understand. I want to continue to grow, to become bolder but to also just continue to be me, the way that I have been created, using the gifts that God has given me.

Three Nights in Bangkok

Why should I lack faith to fulfill my calling knowing that God has allotted to me a measure of faith? Romans 12v3


12 hours is a long time to spend in transit awaiting a connecting flight; next time, I'll take more care to check the departure time! Still, it enabled time to follow the Cherries playing at Brentford, albeit via the internet terminals at Abu Dhabi airport. They are free though even if you do have to remain standing to use them.


The flight to Abu Dhabi was 7 hours, which mainly consisted of elbow-wrestling with the tobacco-smelling bloke in the adjacent seat, who had a tendency to find something to moan about and mainly wanted to know why he was singled out to be searched. “Do I look like a terrorist?” he asked. I looked at him, smiled politely and thought to myself: 'I'm not going to answer that'.


Another 7 hour flight later and I arrived in Bangkok, at the ultra-modern Suvarnabhumi airport. I took the downtown shuttle bus to Hua Lamphong (which is where the main Bangkok railway station is). My guesthouse isn't that far from the station but I caught a taxi as I was pretty tired by that point. Note to self: Bangkok taxi drivers may have newer and more roadworthy vehicles these days but that still doesn't mean that they now actually have a clue where they're going. He got us lost, tried the old “you want massage? You want boom-boom?” line and still wanted more than the agreed fare. Of course, I assertively declined and by now my calm demeanour was seriously being put to the test.


What is a 10 minute walk turned into a one hour sightseeing trip around Bangkok but I got here eventually (about 9.30pm) and then after checking into the guesthouse, got into an interesting conversation on post-modernism with a self-styled buddhist yogi from Germany.


You see, you can't plan this stuff – as Thailand is predominantly buddhist, it is of no surprise that people come here whilst searching and indeed in the case of this man, seemingly already found what he thought he was looking for. Who knows if I'll cross paths with him again? If so, I pray that he may see some more of our Lord Jesus Christ in me.


Today I had a long lie-in due to the lack of sleep over the last few days and then in the afternoon, I went for a walk downtown and visited the famous Khaosan Road and passed by numerous wats (temples), the largest of which is Wat Pho which is frequented by many of Bangkok's visitors and orange-clad monks - I stoppped close by and looked on as I sipped the juice of a fresh coconut. Trouble with temples is that if you've seen one, you've seen 'em all (apart from Angkor Wat in Cambodia of course) but they do give valuable insight into the religious rituals of this country. It all seemed very reverent until I spotted a monk, clad in his orange finery, sat crossed legged at the side of the road rolling himself a cigarette.


The heat, sights and sounds of this city are a complete assault on the senses, from the smell of green curry being cooked in lemon grass to the stench of diesel fumes and the annoying sound of “hello mister, you want tuk-tuk?” from the drivers of the small three-wheeled taxis for which Bangkok is famous. I was once involved in a traffic accident whilst travelling in one of these but that's another story for another day. However, here at the guest house, I have the temperature controlled at a comfortable 25 degrees.

You know, I heard an interesting message the other day during which the speaker came up with the following:


“You may be the Bible that another person has never read”.


This challenged me inasmuch as people who are searching are looking for something and that very something should be visible in us, in the way that we conduct ourselves, the things we say and the love we show for others.


One thing that is becoming more and more apparent is that stepping out in faith is exactly what it says on the tin i.e. I have little control over the direction God is taking me which means that those divine appointments are indeed divine, arranged by Him and not by me. I know my strengths and also have a good sense of self-awareness so I know that there are going to be times when I'm going to be out of my comfort zone. But then, that's what this trip is about – if I'd not wanted to step out in faith I'd have stayed at home wouldn't I?


So then, there's no need for concern about that which is in store for me and how I will be used. God is doing restorative work in Cambodia and I want to be a seasonal part of what He's doing in whatever capacity according to the gifts He's given me.


But what about the little faith I have?

Well, Jesus says that's all I need.

Headless Chicken

No, I'm not sampling Asian cuisine just yet - this merely describes what the last few hours have been like. Preparing for a trip such as this is more involved than you could possibly imagine as there's so much to take care of: personal belongings, car, motorbike, AFC Bournemouth season ticket etc, iPod syncing; without sympathetic friends and family this season in Cambodia wouldn't be possible so a big thank you, you know who you are.

The journey to this point has been exciting and challenging as God has revealed His plan to me over the last few months. I'd heard so much about Cambodia from people who'd been / worked there and those who've family out there, plus I'd learned how open the people are and that there is current favour for Christian agencies to input into the restoration taking place in this nation once decimated by the genocide of the Khmer Rouge regime.

Going to miss my friends at West Cliff Baptist Church but I know that this is a season that I have to undertake, one I believe that God has lead me to and will lead me through. Will it be using the teaching skills developed over the last few months at Pathways International School or will it be something more practical?  It's exciting, albeit with a tinge of trepidation.

Now I'm not naive enough to think that this is all going to be plain sailing; I know Asia and understand something of the way the cultures operate and it is a totally different world - language barriers, customs and corruption - are just some of the annoyances that will undoubtedly await me. But I want to be a part of what God is doing there, to step out of the shadow of mission and to understand something of Hebrews 11, in stepping out in faith.

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