Skin Color

Today is a holiday, so I’ve been reading and doing the exercises in “Culture Matters: The Peace Corps Cross-Cultural Workbook,” which has led to me doing some thinking about diversity all morning, and especially, in light of something that happened earlier this week, skin color.

I’m about as white as a person from the United States can get: Irish-American decent, (dark) blonde hair, blue eyes, freckles, and when my skin is left unexposed to the sun for long periods of time, I’m the color of printer paper. In Cambodia, the whiter you are, the more beautiful you are. Since I arrived here, I have been told over and over how beautiful I am, and the compliments have only come more as I’ve lost a significant amount of weight. (Yeah, being thin here is also highly valued. Yay body policing!)

At first, I was bothered by it. Then, I started to accept it. Now, when people compliment my skin color, I joke with them about how “tan” is considered beautiful in the US, not the pasty white that I am. But, as I joke more about it, it’s come full circle to bothering me again. I mean, it’s nice to be complimented, but it’s also weird in a way.

Earlier this week, I was reaching to grab something in my health center with some patients in the room, and my shirt lifted a bit and exposed my (printer-paper white) stomach. The women in the room immediately started telling me how beautiful my stomach is and asked why I let my arms start to get “k’mau” (black) like their skin color. I told them that white may be beautiful here, but dark, like my arms are getting, is more beautiful in the states. I explained about people spending long days in the sun and about tanning beds (with the limited Khmer that I had to explain these, haha).

Also this week, I went to buy soap, and sometimes, it’s really hard to find soaps without “whitening” products in them. I had to explain to the merchant that I wanted a bar of soap “ut me-in bpoah sah” 1) since I don’t feel like exposing myself to those chemicals and 2) I’m white enough already. Almost all of the soap commercials I have seen on TV have emphasized the “whitening” formula, hoping to gain customers. I mean, sometimes some women look ridiculous, with dark bodies and really white faces, either from the chemicals or because of makeup.

As thoughts of whitening chemicals and tanning beds swirled around my head, so did thoughts of “the grass is always greener” and thoughts of the ways we are killing ourselves with beauty. Alas, the Gender Studies Degree was not a waste of time. But in all seriousness, it’s an interesting study in the ways we try to conform (or not) to what our different societies deem acceptable. Regulations in some states in the US have been proposed for the use of tanning beds by people under a certain age, due to a threat of skin cancer… I wonder if those same ideas could someday influence law-makers in countries where whitening skin products are sold, after the effects of those whitening chemicals are researched and known (if they aren’t already).

I’ll leave you with this little tidbit (which I think I mentioned before, but is worth a second mention): My training host dad was a teacher before the Khmer Rouge took over in 1975. If you know the history of the KR, you know they tried to eliminate all of the intellectuals, etc, which included teachers. My host dad was spared killing because he was “too dark” to have possibly been a teacher/intellectual. Dark skin = working in the fields all day.

I hope this post got you thinking!

Mountain Climbing and Silly Dancing

Hello!

The day after I wrote last time was the day I had food poisoning all day. It was excruciating and I hated it, and even on Saturday and Sunday, after I was technically better, I could barely look at food or eat. Being sick made me completely lose my appetite.

Aside from that, I’ve been up to a bit, but mostly this week as opposed to last.

During Pchum Ben, I met a guy who spoke English very well while walking around the Wat, and he invited me to stop by his NGO, which hosts foreigners from time to time. I was supposed to go the following Monday, but ended up unable to go from the residual feelings of ickyness from the food poisoning. Last Saturday, I finally decided to bike up to the NGO, and lo-and-behold, two French women had just arrived and were going to be staying for a month. He, the two women, and I all talked for about an hour, until my French friends went to go fishing, but not before he had decided to do some sight-seeing the next day.

On Sunday, I woke up bright and early, ready to see a waterfall before lunchtime. When my Cambodian friend had described our adventure as a “hike,” I had no idea what was actually in store for us. We ended up boating about half an hour up the river from my town, turning left into another river, and sailing for another 20 minutes, until we reached the bottom of a river. We climbed to the waterfall through the river, which ended up taking us up a mini mountain. I have to say, I still have bruises and a few not-so-nice cuts from the hike up, including a beautiful cut on my chin from when I slipped on a giant rock and was convinced I was going to fall to my death. I hung there for a good 10 minutes before I was finally goaded into moving, with the help of my friends. That wasn’t even the scariest part of the climb… that award goes to the vertical climb we had to do up the actual waterfall in order to get to the trail to lead us down the mountain and back to the boat. Did I mention the trail had a multitude of leeches? At one point, I probably had at least 7 on me at once, but in total, I got around 20. Luckily, my friend/guide pulled them right off. All in all, it was gorgeous, but I am never doing it again. My friend says next time we go, we will climb to the first (mini) waterfall, and then come back the way we came. I think I’d be okay with that.

We left at 8:30am and were back in town by 2pm. It was quite intense, but that wasn’t supposed to be the end of our adventure. We had planned, and paid for, the boat man to take us out to sea at 3pm to see the coast, but just after 2:45, a huge storm hit, leaving us without a way to go to the ocean. However, I was okay with this because I was exhausted, and ended up falling asleep until dinner time. I was still sore for the next two days, but it was so worth it.

On Monday, I finally started with my Khmer language tutor. He is teaching me to read and write, and helps me with words that I hear but don’t know. I’m excited to have finally started. We are using a first grade Khmer writing workbook as our guide, which was my idea, after seeing his son’s workbook. It is completely in Khmer, so obviously, it challenges me to get better at the language as fast as possible. My homestay mom helps me in the evenings when I go through the days lessons.

Tuesday was a holiday, so I didn’t have work. I was supposed to learn how to cook, but ended up sleeping in late, so my mom and sisters just made lunch without me. Oops! After I woke up, I told my mom that I wanted to go to the Wat with her later that day, since I missed when she went to the Wat for Pchum Ben because of my food poisoning. While there, we saw my language teacher, who asked me why I was worshipping the Cambodian king, since the holiday was a day of Remembrance for the King who passed away last year. I just shrugged. The service was longer than the masses I was used to as a child, and since we kneeled the entire time, my legs were not happy by the time I had to get up. I don’t really care though, as it was quite the experience.

Later that day, my mom had a friend (or sister or some other relation… I have a lot of trouble keeping everyone straight) over, and they were watching music videos. I was in my room reading, with the door open, and I guess I was moving my hand along with the music because my mom came in and told me to come dance in the living room with her. Who can say no to that? So we danced for a few songs, but then I told her I was tired. By this time, my sisters had come back from their English lessons. My mom asked me if I drink beer, I said yes, and then next thing I know, my sister comes back with 5 Blank Panthers (it’s a dark beer, and my favorite in this country), and me, my mom, and my mom’s friend start drinking after dinner. Soon enough, we are dancing. We danced the Macarena at least 4 times, Gangham style twice, the Cha Cha twice, and the Twist at least once. It was so much fun!

My mom was then telling her friend how she’s going to take me to all of the weddings that she is going to in December because she likes the way that I dance. They asked me if I had anything to wear to a wedding, so I showed them some of my dresses, and then we started talking about make-up. I brought out my make-up case, and the next thing you know, my mom’s friend has some of my bright pink (I mean, I call it Nicki Minaj pink, but Malibu Barbie pink could also work) lipstick on and we are all laughing. I put on my dark red, my mom put on my bright pink, and then I was showing them how I do my eyes, and all of a sudden we were taking all sorts of pictures. I’ll have to post them when I get a chance. It was an amazingly fun night, and it really made me feel closer to my family.

Yesterday, I started teaching at the NGO where the French girls are volunteering and my Cambodian friend works. Now, I have a class that I co-teach every day right after I finish work for the day. I’m excited to refine my teaching skills. It also helps with my Khmer, since my co-teacher does half-English/half-Khmer for his class, and he has them translate the English sentences into Khmer.

That’s it for now!

Provincial Town, Pchum Ben, and Giardia

Hey everyone!

I’ve been up to a lot since I last wrote. I’ve been out of my site twice, once to go with the 2 other K7s in my province to our provincial town, and once to go visit one of those people at their site.

The trip into Koh Kong town was a lot of fun, and a nice break from attempting to speak Khmer all the time. Rachel, Devin, and I feasted on as much American-type food we could find while we were there. We stayed for one night and ended up meeting another American, 19 years old, who was taking a gap year and traveling the world. She had some great stories about volunteering around Asia. We had originally gone to KK to get some money out of the bank, but apparently, it’s closed on weekends. Oops. That was two weekends ago.

Last Friday, I visited Devin in her site because she has a bank, and I needed to get money out since our KK adventure hadn’t really worked out. Her site is huge, and we passed this gorgeous Wat on our way into town, where we stopped to look at the views and take pictures. On our way out of the Wat, I slipped and fell as a huge crowd of people were walking behind us. I couldn’t get up for a minute or two because my foot and ankle hurt so bad. After I stood up and managed to laugh at myself, I took a look at the damage. My write was bleeding and my shin and foot were covered in scrapes, but other than my foot hurting, everything else seemed fine. This really nice older gentleman came over with some antiseptic that he happened to be carrying, so I cleaned myself up as best as I could, and then Devin and I headed out into her town. I only stayed for a few hours, but it was a fun trip.

Aside from trips, it’s been an exciting couple of weeks since Pchum Ben has started. The (loud) music starts early and goes late, and since I live 3 houses down from the Wat, I hear it all day. Sometimes it’s chanting, sometimes it’s EDM, and sometimes it’s Gangham Style. I’ve learned to kind of ignore it. My Wat is like a carnival every night. I’ve been twice and the first time I felt really out of place, but the second time was fun because I found someone who spoke fluent English. I tried out one of the carnival games and completely sucked at it. Darts will never be my thing.

So that’s the exciting stuff! The not-so-exciting stuff is that I’ve been sick for over a week. At first, I thought it was just residual stomach issues from eating so much cheese in KK town. My mom “coined” me the day after I came back because I left work early due to an upset stomach and a bad headache. Coining hurts! I’ll post pictures when I have better internet, but basically, coining is when someone puts lotion or tiger balm on you, and then continually rubs a patch of skin until it becomes deeply bruised. They do this over and over again down your back, and sometimes, as my mom did, down my arms and across my chest. The result looks something like tiger stripes. While sick, I also had borbor (runny rice porridge) for the first time, and honestly, it did make me feel a bit better.

I eventually got sick of being sick for so long and called the Medical Office. They thought it was gastro-something until I called two days later with a new symptom, at which point they diagnosed me with giardia. I took the medicine yesterday, and I’m starting to feel a bit better, so I’m hoping that is all that is was.

And that’s it for now!