Here is an ever so brief history of Coca-Cola’s worldwide distribution as heard on a podcast sometime in the last few months and summarized by your’s truly (aka take it all with a grain of salt and you probably should’t quote me on this without checking!)

Once upon a time in the 1940s there was a great war that engulfed the world (WWII). Coca-Cola was already an icon of the USA at that time and there being a great war and all, the company made a statement saying, “Gosh darn it, Coke is such a representation of the US and it tastes so much like that freedom and liberty that it seems only fair that our boys, no matter where they are in the world, should have access to this freedom and be able to lick the liberty off of their lips as any citizen of the great United States of America can when they take a sip of our delicious beverage!” And that was that. Coke began its worldwide distribution of canned freedom anywhere that there might be our men in uniform. 

Skip to the end of that very tangible war and thus begins the war of the two powers; the war of which system could best advertise, propagate, and establish its power on a global scale. So of course, what better way to advertise the intense freedom and vast empire of capitalism and freedom then by continuing to utilize this mass-distributed symbol of the stars and stripes that is Coca-Cola, further establishing Coke as a globally dominating dink which can, now days, be found just as easily as (and sometimes even more easily than) water in most places (except for places that only sell pepsi products). 

Fast forward to the year 2013: the beginning of the “Share a Coke” campaign. These are the cans and bottles that are distributed all over the world with names and titles written on them. For example: In Germany, you might get a bottle of Coke to share with “Schätz” (treasure) or “Sophie,” in the USA you might get a Coke to share with “Friend” or “Hallie,” or in Cambodia, you might find “ឣ្នកគ្រូ” (Nek kru or female teacher), or “បង” (bong or brother/sister). 

Now we come into my life here in Cambodia, and why Coke is relevant therein. Sometimes it gets hard living in Cambodia and I feel like I don't know what I am doing or why I am here. Those moods can be changed by a lot of different things. Usually it is the amazing people around me getting me involved with the culture and their lives, but it never hurts when I meet somebody new (which happens all the time, by the way) and usually the first thing that they say after hearing my name is that I have a Khmer name. (Okay, it is Sovanna instead of Savannah that is Khmer, but it pretty much sounds the same, plus Sovann means gold, how sweet is that?). Hearing that is a little constant reminder that I must be in the right place - my name tells me so! So today, while practicing reading by sounding out all the words, names, and titles on the Coke cans at dinner (okay there were only two today, but it still feels pretty great when I can say it and say have my coworkers tell me I am doing it right!), I picked up one before we left and low and behold, the can said “សុវណ្ណា” (Sovanna). And now I have a Coke can in my room to remind me that I was called to be in Cambodia for a reason. It is like the Coke is saying, “It IS you vocation to be here, សុវណ្ណា. Now have some delicious freedom juice to remind you!”

Thank you Coke!

Before I get into the meat of my post, I just thought I would give you a little update about my life recently via bullet points of the most important things:

It is November, so school is officially in session (though I have yet to start teaching!) I have slept in my room 2 times in the last 13 days and most likely will not be sleeping there for another 5 days In that time, I have been to Phnom Penh (for a YAGM weekend), to one of my co-worker’s houses in Battambang (three times) and got to see the city of Battambang at long last, stayed with Chamnan, and now I am attending a training on Good Governance in Pursat with my LWD staff and the LWD staff at Elise’s office (yes, that means that I get to hang out with Elise every day! and also that is why I am actually not starting school until next week) I attended a meeting (or so I thought) at the school that turned out to be the opening ceremony and lasted for many hours and included lunch! I finally met my Peace Corps volunteer. Her name is Linda, she is in her second year, she is very nice, and somehow we have never seen each other even though she lives very close to Chamnan

I hope that taste of my life is satisfying!

One thing that I have learned about Khmer culture that is totally different than the culture I am used to in the USA, is openness. What I mean is, it seems like there are no real topics or questions that are inappropriate or off limits. Obviously that is not the case in any culture, but compared to what I have experienced, Khmer culture is super open. In order to illustrate this I have decided to share two very different stories.

For those of you who don’t know, I have had a lot of struggles with food since I got to my site. It is not that I cannot eat food, it is not that I do not like the food, it is that I often feel obligated to eat way more than I want and way more often. This is something that I have been trying to communicate is an issue, and until recently I have not felt like I was making any grounds to be better (I am slowly figuring it out). As a result of this overeating, I have gained 5 kilos (about 11 pounds). While in the USA, I would look  at that and readjust my eating an exercise habits and it wouldn’t be a big deal, it is a much bigger deal here (not in a dieting way). I wouldn’t even know what I weigh except that the first weekend I was here I was pressured to weighing myself in front of a few people, and I had to weigh myself again in front of the same people this past weekend. Both times, many people were told my weight, even some people I do not know. This most recent time, people were told both weights with a, ''can you believe she gained that much weight?“ This weight sharing is not exclusive to my site, and one of my fellow YAGMs had their weight announced to a whole bunch of people all at once. At first, I wanted to shrink back into my skin, I was so uncomfortable with that information just being tossed around. Now, I am still not totally comfortable with that, but I am learning to let it go, because if I wanted I could probably get every single person’s weight without pause and it is not a big deal. That doesn’t mean though that I didn’t feel the same discomfort arise when some of my coworkers see an old photo (like from graduation) and say, ‘Oh, you were so much skinnier then.“ What it means is that I have to take a step back from those moments I feel uncomfortable and remind myself that it is not something personal at all. When my weight is shared, it is just a number that people are curious about and by no means is it maliciously being spread.

After that one which is a little less than fun, I have a very different way that Cambodians share. If you are sharing this blog post with a younger audience, you may want to read this section first and discern for yourselves if you want to share any or all of it. Traditionally, Cambodian families shared one room or the dividers between rooms are very thin. That means that everyone knows what everyone else is doing in the house. While this is not as true anymore with the growing popularity of concrete houses and buildings, the idea that nothing stays in the bedroom has transferred into the culture in a way it has not in the USA. While sex is a topic that by no means goes unaddressed in the US, it does not have the same acceptance as natural and appropriate in the USA as it does here. Case and point: Yesterday, during work training, as a part of a break, we were told a pretty funny penis joke. Because it was funny, though very different than jokes I have grown up with, I have decided to share it with you, hopefully you giggle a little. So, there is a man and his wife, and the man goes fishing every day. For some reason or another, he tells his wife one day that if he doesn’t catch any fish that day he is going to cut his penis off (I have no idea why he would do that). So, he goes out and fishes all day but doesn’t catch anything. Not wanting to have to cut off his penis, he comes up with a plan. After getting his plan ready, he heads home, head hanging. Once he arrives, he tells his wife that he didn’t catch anything and before she can say a word, he cuts off his penis. His wife is VERY distraught. She doesn’t understand why he would do that and he didn’t even ask her how she felt about it. While she is crying, she goes to pick up the penis and is totally surprised to find that penises have two eyes! How did she never notice that? As it turns out, the man never cut off his penis after all, and actually tied an eel around his waist (which is a fish, so I am a little confused) and cut the head off the fish instead of cutting off his penis. Hahaha now lets get back to the meeting.

In Cambodia, you share your life, you share the details that make it what it is, even the details that make me, as somebody from the USA, uncomfortable. You share your laughs, your joys, your stupidity, your jokes (even the penis ones!), and you let others share with you. Sometimes it is really hard and sometimes it comes naturally, but no matter what, I am learning a totally different perspective on what it means to share and to be open with others.

Pchum Ben Day

What a week! I have spent the last nine days living with Chamnan and Aun for the two national holidays last week. The bigger of the two was Pchum Ben Day, or Ancestor’s Day. It is a 15 day Cambodian Buddhist holiday which culminates in the last three days with a lot  of festivities around the pagoda. During that part of the week, we went to the pagoda at least twice a day. There were so many people everywhere because, as a big (and more importantly long) festival, it is very common for everyone to return to their home villages to celebrate and be with family. (Because of the proximity with Thailand her in Bavel, a lot of those people were coming home from their jobs in Thailand). Unfortunately, I still do not totally understand what Pchum Ben actually signifies, as the wikipedia page is lacking and there were lots of troubles with translation. However, my basic understanding is that souls are released into the world and everyone eats num (called Khmer cakes in English, they are this sticky around pork or bananas that is wrapped up in banana leaves and cooked), gives the monks money and rice during this big event, watches dragon boat races during the day and go to a big fair-like festival at the pagoda at night. It was so loud and colorful and brilliant!

I don’t even know where to begin to tell you about the things I felt or experienced this week, but I think that probably one of the most interesting parts was going to the pagoda during the feeding of the monks (for lack of a more accurate term).

On the 12th, Chamnan started cooking early so that we could go to the pagoda at 10:00 with a bunch of rice and wads of 100 R bills (~2.5 cents each). Then after walking around above the hoards of white clad Khmer men and women (and I was wearing white too which made me feel a lot less conspicuous than if I were the borang (white foreigner) who was wearing the wrong color, though the being a borang a head taller than everyone doesn’t help for not standing out) everyone started to line the edges of the wide sheltered walkway at the pagoda. Then about ten monks (with Lok Pa in the lead) followed a golden boat-type money collection cart, and every single person placed a wad of 100s on each monk’s collection plate and a solid scoop of rice in their collection bowls while helpers ran around and helped transfer the monk’s money to the boat-cart and the rice to a big collection bowl. The monks probably walked around this shelter three or four times before everyone had had the opportunity to serve them. I have no idea what happened to the rice and money after words. There was way too much to be eaten and I am sure the money will go towards something at the pagoda. I wish at times like these that I was more fluent in Khmer so that I could ask these questions!

A few hours later (after a hefty nap of course!) we returned to the pagoda to watch dragon boat races. For those of you who don’t know, I was a varsity rower all four years I was at PLU (go Lutes, row, fight, fight, fight! I love all you ladies and I am super jealous of the awesome season you seem to be having!), and as a result boat racing and boats and water-type activities are a really exciting and fun thing for me. So needless to say, I was excited to watch these races.

The pagoda has two different sizes of boats, one that are super long and have something like 28 people, and smaller ones with maybe 12. The big boats go so fast (usually) and in the best boats, the back third (except for the last row) all stand when they row to give the boat extra momentum. As oppose to a coxswain (like in rowing), one of the back paddlers blows a whistle for every stroke so hat everyone is together. That is, of course, for the really good boats. Most of the boats, however, seemed like they were just there to have fun and usually there would be at least one person who was no longer in the boat by the time they crossed the finish line. There was even one boat that had two people out of the boat by the time they came into view and soon a third person rolled out and took the boat with them. Everyone was so wet and having fun! It was great. Regardless if the boat was good or not, there was always a pair of people with bowls to bail out the boat (all of which had a good 4 inches of water at the bottom). It look so fun and joyful, and overall exciting.

There is just too much to cover from my holiday week, but these are some glimpses into what I experienced! If you have more questions, comments, concerns, confessions, etc. please email me at [email protected]!

The majority of what I am able to say in Khmer has to do with food. And the majority of food is rice. I eat rice at least three times a day. A very typical breakfast for me is rice and pork. Then, for mid-morning snack, I usually have some sort of rice treat. This has been anything from little rice sugar bread type things, to bananas wrapped in rice and cooked, to little coconut rice bar things. So pretty much just all sorts of yum. Lunch at LWD tends to be a fish sour soup and some sort of veggies with meat, served family style over our individual bowls of rice. Then as a little rice break, afternoon snack is usually fruit. I love the fruit we have been having for this snack. Sometimes we get snake fruit; sometimes its bananas (fresh or fried!); but more often than not, we have oranges. For those of you who don’t know (probably most, if not all, of you), oranges in Cambodia are green. They are still orange inside (though not quite as bright), but they are a very green green outside. A few hours after snack time, I go to Chamnan’s house and we have some delicious veggies and fish, pork, crab, or beef, and rice. Finally, once I have reached my rice quota, I can go to sleep.

 Because rice is so central in the culture (and my daily life), it is important to know a at least one or two words and phrases in Khmer. Here are some that I say at least two or three times a day:

 Rice – buy

Have you eaten already? (Used like “How are you?”) – Nahm buy howey?

Yes I have eaten rice already. – Jah (if you are a woman)/Bah (if you are a man), khnyome nahm buy howey.

If you are at all curious about who I am talking about (amongst the other YAGMs) or want to read other perspectives and experiences form the YAGM Cambodia program, here are all my cohort’s blogs. You should also be able to look up our hashtag #cambodiYEAH on most social media and find us!

Adam and Sarah (our country coordinators): https://yagmcambodia.wordpress.com

Lindsay Bates: https://lindsayincambodia.wordpress.com

Ryan Berkas: https://ryangoestocambodia.wordpress.com

Jessica Moes: http://www.moesgoes.com/#!blog1/cbcj

Andrew Smith: http://mightysmity.blogspot.com

Elise Sperling: https://elisesperling.wordpress.com

Haley Torsdahl: https://haleytoresdahl.wordpress.com