“This is it!” she said as we crawled out of the tuk-tuk that drove us from the airport to the ministry center she’s developed in a central part of the city. A large block building, stood before us under the midnight sky. The tuk-tuk driver stacked our suitcases on the sidewalk in front of the center’s massive iron gate. A rat scavenged in a nearby pile of garbage. Cockroaches greeted us as they scurried around our luggage, but thankfully not our feet.
The We Love Kids sign blazed under a fluorescent light above the doorway. A petite Vietnamese woman appeared at the second gate beyond the small entry way. I would learn that her name is Sabaat and she is from a provincial village, having come to the city for a seminar being hosted at the center by one of Joni’s old friends from Viet Nam. Sabaat is not accustomed to the massive set of keys or uncooperative locks on the heavy gates. Her small frame struggles to slide them open, but in we are and it is good to break company with the roaches and sidewalk rat.
Sabaat, I learn, is Kampuchea-Krom, which means she is half Khmer and half Vietnamese, a common mix in Cambodia. I am learning a lot from Joni about the extensive history Vietnamese and Cambodian people have with one another. It is long and contentious. Sabaat will be leaving in another day to return to her village. She is a pastor and children’s ministry and she also helps encourage other church plants in her area.
She is not yet 30 years old and her husband is not yet a Christian.
I have my own room. It is so hot that when we go to bed I point the fan directly at me. After a quick cooling shower it is bearable to lay down and get some rest.
Our first day here has been rather low key. Low key Cambodia style that is. Here’s a rundown:
• Walked six blocks to Joni’s fave restaurant that serves Western-style breakfast. That wasn’t such a big deal, except for all the intersections we had to navigate teeming with motor scooters, tuk-tuks and cars and trucks. It was like a video game to get from one side to another. There are no stop signs, traffic signals or pedestrian walkways. In short, there are no rules.
• Went by tuk-tuk to Met-Phone, a local carrier that is the service for Joni’s internet which is out. The shop is jammed with at least a dozen people crowded around the counter where two people are working. It’s very unorganized though people are getting helped one at a time. Joni gives me a refresher course in Assertiveness Training. “You have to push your way forward or else you’ll be here all day.” Gotta let go of all the wait-your-turn manners my American culture has instilled in me.
• Go to the best grocery store in the city. Again, the tuk-tuk driver waits outside for us. The store is nicely stocked with a variety of white people food and also Asian items. You can guess which was much more expensive. When we left, three beggar kids made a beeline for us and seeing the bananas in the bags, asked to have some. I immediately defer to Joni who readily gives each barefoot child a couple. But when a Khmer woman holding a baby on her hip approaches us Joni turns away telling me, “She’s a professional beggar and looks to be doing ok.” The woman follows us all the way to the tuk-tuk quietly asking for a handout. I avoid eye contact.
• Back at the house Joni decides to unpack the supplies she’s brought for the pastors in the area where Sabaat lives. We are soon laying out mini-audio devices outside on her balcony that are
• After a rest we take another tuk-tuk to a nearby Vietnamese slum. The driver becomes visibly nervous when Joni directs him to pull over. She wants to show me up close the poverty of this area. She has had many students come to her school from this area. We see heroin addicts sprawled out on a roadside, piled up like puppies. Naked children come running from behind a wall of corrugated iron happily shouting, “Hello, hello!” We assure the driver we will only be one minute. He is very agitated which agitates me. “Can you tape some of this?” asks Joni. I hastily pull out my Flip video from my bag as more children appear from dilapidated structures. I am trying hard to be discreet but when you are a tattooed white lady standing on a dirt street in a Phnom Penh slum, it’s not easy! When we drive out, our driver becomes more relaxed.
So this was our first day, our low-key first day in the capitol of Cambodia. In a few days we will travel to Sabaat’s province where Joni is scheduled to do some training with area church planters and also train them in how to use the audio bible devices. It is eight hours by bus. We’ll stay in a hotel in the province capitol, and then we’ll have to hire motorbike drivers to transport us to the actual village. “There’s a Vietnamese slum back there, too,” says Joni, “hidden away. You would never even know it’s there. You can’t believe the poverty and the kids….many of them are HIV from their mothers who were prostitutes.” I am saving my questions for when we get there. And I can tell you that Joni’s story of how such a remote area got on her radar is fascinating. I’m saving that for a later post.
Ok. Time to go take another cooling shower. Even my perspiration is sweating! Tomorrow, we’ll be visiting an area known as Saigon Bridge, an even bigger slum area than the one Joni gave me a peek of today. We’ll also be contacting some of her former students to see how they’re doing. I’m hoping the internet issue at her house will be resolved. We’ve been to the Met Phone shop twice and she has also called them twice. For now, we are at an internet café. Hopefully the wi-fi signal will be restored so I can post more often!
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