Touched by the khmer

It’s been such a long time that I forgot my password, haha. It’s time for therapy again. I have had a few ideas that I could have written about. But I have just been so lazy and not everything are happy things. Most of the things I write about aren’t happy things actually. Anyway, leaving Siem Reap was difficult, mentally. I wrote this post when I was in Phnom Phen, three days after I left Siem Reap.

I’ve left Siem Reap and Cambodia now. If you’re up to date with what I’m doing you know that I’ve been a volunteer in Siem Reap for two months. I taught english mainly at a primary school but I also a little bit of Chinese to some kids in the neighborhood.

Before my trip I thought I would go to Cambodia, do some volunteering and maybe help the community, have a short holiday after that and then move on. In a way it’s been like that, but I got so much more than that. The people I met affected me, the kids, the volunteers and people that I worked with.

I miss them. More than I thought I would. Somehow they succeeded to sneak under my radar and touch my heart. Everywhere I go now I see them in other people. I walk by a man on the street and think he reminds me of him. I see a girl sitting in a café and is about to call out her name when I realize that it cannot be the person I’m thinking about. When I see kids in school uniforms I expect them to notice me, smile their adorable little smiles and say “Hello, teacher!” but it’s not one of the kids I teach. Correction, taught. The people I was closest to was the girls I taught Chinese and you know what. The worst thing is I probably never gonna meet them again.

I’m thinking for myself, how did they do it? Because most of the time it was hard to communicate with them, especially the kids. They don’t speak much english and most of the local people I spent time with didn’t speak much english either. And I don’t speak khmer. When I try to, the pronunciation is off so they just laugh. It’s something special with the connection you build with people when you don’t speak the same language not even that, it’s enough not to speak the same mother tongue. When you overcome the language barrier and you both understand each other or just having a good time. It’s almost like magic. I think that it also means that we’re not that different from other people in our core. No matter where we come from.

It’s time for me to move on. A part of me don’t want to, it just wants to head back to Siem Reap and tell everybody that he’s going to stay forever. He is scared. He is scared that he will forget them or that they will forget him. There is a reason it’s hard to move on. It’s because they mean so much to me. I had to leave sooner or later, there is never a perfect time. So, here I am trying to let go and move on. It doesn’t mean that I want to or will forget though.



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