Several times a week, I walk around the village to enjoy the natural beauty of the surroundings and get some exercise. Today, I made my usual loop that starts at school, goes out to the main road, and curves back around through the village. A husband and wife were walking through the waist high water behind the school, pulling bunches of rice along the water behind them. Their son was dog-paddling along behind them. He had five empty water jogs strung around his waist as a flotation device.
The sound of monks chanting at the nearby temple reverberated through this air. Naked toddlers splashed in water puddles on the path, and some of my students were playing games. One of my first graders ran over and hugged me. An older boy was giving six children a ride on a wagon by pulling it down the path while they squealed with delight. By now, I am familiar with the families, their dogs, cows, cats, and ducks. We wave and say hello as I pass. The elderly women point to me and say, "barang," with broad smiles. This term means white person. It's not offensive. There just aren't that many white people around, so we stick out.
So-chee-et's wife saw me walking and she must have told him because he rode up and asked me, "Where you go?" I explained I was just walking for fun. Then, he turned around and went back the way he came. He's so sweet.
I bought a couple packets of homemade kettle corn from a woman with a small candy stall. The total came to 25 cents. A couple girls were sitting on the side of the path, and they said, "Hello Kerri!" They were sitting on a mat by a pond, eating, and I asked if they were having a picnic. They said, "Yes, would you like to join us?" I accepted and sat down, adding a package of popcorn to the meal. One girl gave me her spoon, laughed, and said, "I eat with my hands." The other girl said to me, "You don't eat meat. This is vegetables." There was a big fish, rice, and green vegetables in plastic bags. I dug in, and it was delicious.
I assumed Jan-Rong and Srey-Ing attended my school since they knew my name and eating habits, but they said they were high school students at the state school nearby. How on earth did they know I was a vegetarian? I suppose word travels fast around a small village like this, especially when a barang is involved.
We had a nice meal and joked around. Srey-Ing made fun of Jan-Rong and said, "She eat a lot." If one of them took too much food in a bite, they said, "One at a time!" and giggled. Srey-Ing said she wanted to learn how to make spaghetti, so I invited them over next weekend to teach them how.
The sound of monks chanting at the nearby temple reverberated through this air. Naked toddlers splashed in water puddles on the path, and some of my students were playing games. One of my first graders ran over and hugged me. An older boy was giving six children a ride on a wagon by pulling it down the path while they squealed with delight. By now, I am familiar with the families, their dogs, cows, cats, and ducks. We wave and say hello as I pass. The elderly women point to me and say, "barang," with broad smiles. This term means white person. It's not offensive. There just aren't that many white people around, so we stick out.
So-chee-et's wife saw me walking and she must have told him because he rode up and asked me, "Where you go?" I explained I was just walking for fun. Then, he turned around and went back the way he came. He's so sweet.
I bought a couple packets of homemade kettle corn from a woman with a small candy stall. The total came to 25 cents. A couple girls were sitting on the side of the path, and they said, "Hello Kerri!" They were sitting on a mat by a pond, eating, and I asked if they were having a picnic. They said, "Yes, would you like to join us?" I accepted and sat down, adding a package of popcorn to the meal. One girl gave me her spoon, laughed, and said, "I eat with my hands." The other girl said to me, "You don't eat meat. This is vegetables." There was a big fish, rice, and green vegetables in plastic bags. I dug in, and it was delicious.
I assumed Jan-Rong and Srey-Ing attended my school since they knew my name and eating habits, but they said they were high school students at the state school nearby. How on earth did they know I was a vegetarian? I suppose word travels fast around a small village like this, especially when a barang is involved.
We had a nice meal and joked around. Srey-Ing made fun of Jan-Rong and said, "She eat a lot." If one of them took too much food in a bite, they said, "One at a time!" and giggled. Srey-Ing said she wanted to learn how to make spaghetti, so I invited them over next weekend to teach them how.
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