I walk along my street in the evening. It’s long, it’s dusty, it’s hot but I want to ‘see’ what’s happening and make the most of my days here in this land where the common denominator is simply survival. I’ve bumped into many lives. I’m a foreigner, I’m mature and apparently have ‘fire on my head’ so its exciting for them even if I glimpse their way and they erupt into giggles and head bowing if I notice them and smile.
What I think about mostly on my walks is how I am so blessed to be born where I was, in a beautiful country, to be educated, to have had and still have so many opportunities. Things are vastly different here in Cambodia.
The people here live simply. Most with little shops at the front of their decaying and ram shackled shanty homes. It’s overwhelming. A country slowly trying to recover from its past.
So when I can’t speak it out I write it out…
A piece from last night’s journaling:
‘In many ways we are opposites. You are dark brown with your big hazel eyes, your tiny frame from head to toe and I’m light, freckled, blue sometimes green eyes with ginger hair. I see into your eyes and they look like night, mine day. I see so much potential inside of you, if you were given opportunity. I’m so blessed with opportunity and I’ve wasted so much as well. To the girl I met last night who has to sell herself, I went to sleep with your heart heavy on my heart – the fairy-tale words ‘Once upon a time’…going over and over in my head…Reimagining your world as it should have been for you? We were both little girls once. We both had dreams of what our ‘ever after’ would look like – what kind of women we would be. I’m discontent…I want you to know you are loved. That there is a God that sings over you, listen close…listen from your heart, maybe you can hear my earnest prayer for you’
We are different, but we are the same.