Here is a picture of my amazing host mother (and me):
 |
| The last picture we took together. I'm so glad she suggested a little photo shoot. This was right before the dinner for International Women's Day. |
Unfortunately, my host mom passed away on Thursday, March
27th. It was an unexpected and sudden death. She had been feeling
sick all weekend, went to the hospital on Monday, got a little worse on
Wednesday, and then passed away as my host sister and I rushed to Phnom Penh to
see her at the hospital to say our goodbyes. We didn’t make it in time.
I was crushed. I still am crushed. I’m having trouble
processing that this has actually happened. If you are my Facebook friend, you
know just how much I loved my host mother, since I was always sharing stories
about her. Here are some of my favorite memories of her:
- The way she would say “mostiko” instead of “mosquito”
and “cocodoung” instead of “coconut.”
- How she got me to open up by putting on karaoke DVDs
and dancing around our living room with me
- She made me pumpkin on Halloween because I asked
- She organized a Christmas party for me at our house
after she caught me crying as I decorated my little tree, because I missed my
family so much and she just wanted me to be happy
- She invited me to all of the happenings in town: the
festival for Pchum Ben, the January 7th Commemoration, the dinner to
celebrate International Women’s Day on March 8th (she even won a
free sarong at that dinner!)
- She went to the carnival in our town with me, and
managed to basically drag me onto the ferris wheel, after buying me a ticket to go on.
 |
| On the Ferris Wheel together. |
- The time she sat me down to tell me how worried she was
about my host sisters because they are women in Cambodian society and she is
always afraid that they are going to get hurt
- She took me to the school to meet everyone so that I
could try to get something going at the high school
- Whenever I asked, she would explain to me what she was
doing when she had lots of papers in front of her: grading, scheduling, etc.
One time, she was getting her stuff ready to go to the provincial town to do
some more trainings, and she showed me pictures from her teacher training
classes and all of the certificates she had.
- How she sat me down within my first two weeks in her
house to tell me about her experience with the Khmer Rouge. I understood only
about 30% of that conversation, and I was going to ask her to write it down so
that I could have it translated to fully understand her experience. Now, I’ll
never know.
- The way she would always encourage me to dance at
weddings
- Sitting and playing cards with her and my sisters
- She taught me how to Khmer traditional dance
- She invited me to go to Kampong Som with the teachers
from the high school on New Year’s Day. That day was a lot of fun, even if most
of it was spent in a torrie going there and coming back.
- She never wanted me to spend a lot of money, so she
would send one of my sisters to go with me or she would go with me if I wanted
to buy something, so that I could get the “Khmer price”
- On Valentine’s Day, we were drinking together, and she
broke down crying, telling me that she would miss me when I left and that I
would forget her. I told her that she shouldn’t cry because I’m not leaving for
another year and a half, and I would never, ever forget her. I thought we had
so much time…
- Most of all, though, she treated me like a daughter
from the moment I stepped into her house
I don’t know how it’s possible to completely integrate
somebody into your life so quickly, but my host mom was way more than just a
host mother to me. My host mom was my Khmer mom, in every sense of the word. I
have never met a more caring, loving individual willing to take me on as her
own… to house me, to feed me, to help me integrate, even when my language wasn’t
awesome. My host mom had the biggest heart, helping people when they needed it,
offering advice, and just sitting and smiling with me.
She touched so many lives. In Khmer culture, the body
usually sits out for three days (in a coffin), and then the funeral happens on
the third day. Throughout the three days, many people came to give their
condolences, many incense sticks were lit, and many “good luck” bracelets were
tied around wrists.
When my sister and I arrived in Phnom Penh, we went
straight to see her body at this wake, as we would call it in the States. While
I was kneeling by the body, my oldest host sister, who lives in Phnom Penh (my
host mom has four children), came over to tell me how much my host mom
absolutely loved me. It’s a sentiment I’ve heard from more than one person. I
hope I was able to show her how much I loved her as well, and I made sure to
tell her every time she asked. She wore her heart on her sleeve and loved with
everything she had in her.
Her funeral was on Saturday, and I will never forget the
sounds that my host sisters made. I’ve never seen Khmer people cry like that.
It was one of the most heart-breaking things I have had to go through in my
adult life.
So here is to my Khmer mom, Teacher Em Mony. May her
memory live on through everyone she has taught, everyone she has touched, and
everyone she has loved.
