Life in the countryside

Having returned to the insanity and chaos of Phnom Penh after a very peaceful week in a village in Kompong Speu province, I now have a much better appreciation for life in the countryside. I had first envisioned that I would have a very difficult time there, but to my surprise, it is actually easier than my time in Phnom Penh.

When I arrived, I had the impression that almost everyone in the village (about sixty families) knew about me before my arrival. I am staying with the family of Proum Uth, the smote master who teaches a class near a wat on a small hill a few kilometers from the village. As Proum Uth spends the first half of each month as a achar in a wat in Kandal province, only his wife and two of his sons where living at the house when I arrived.

The house is situated on the edge of a rice field on the outer portion of the village. Like most Khmer houses, it is "on stilts," in that it sits on raised pillars to create a shaded area underneath where the family spends most of their time. The upstairs area has one room where the family sleeps, and food is prepared in a separate room attached to the house at ground level.

Electricity exists only in the form of batteries, and water used for bathing and cooking is collected in large jars. Water for drinking is boiled in the form of tea, and heat for cooked is generally firewood. I brought along a cheap gas stove, but it blew up (fortunately no one was nearby!). This makes me believe that firewood may be a little safer!

Shortly after I arrived, the two brothers took me meet some of their neighbors in the village. In general, people in Cambodian villages have a good deal of free time each day, and they tend to spend most of it visiting their neighbors or their family (who also may be their neighbors). Wherever I went, the local people always wanted me to try a new kind of fruit or vegetable. After several hours of this, I was feeling rather full but also delighted to meet so many kind and welcoming people.

The two sons, Teng, 19 and Pakdey,17, are currently studying English and other subjects at local schools in preparation for their high school graduation examinations. Pakdey is also a student in the smote class, which meets daily during the week from 4:00 PM to 6:00 PM. They are like brothers to me in many ways, and I am really enjoying being able to spend time with them. Occassionly I go to the local English to help the students there. As there are no foreign teachers there, even a relatively inexperienced teacher can fill a large gap in their English education: pronounciation and proper grammar. I probably will continue to spend a hour a day helping out there or at other schools in the area. In the evening, I am also able to help Teng and Pakdey with their homework. From my point of view, this is the least I can do for them, for not only does Pakdey help me with smote songs, but the whole family, according to Khmer tradition, does not permit me to help very much with the housework, so I am happy that I can help them in other ways.

I will post more about the smote class itself a little later, but I am really happy to finally start studying this form of religious music. I feel truly fortunate to have this opportunity, and while I know it will be a challenge for me, every aspect of smote --contextual, textual, musical, and spiritual-- is fascinating to me.

As I'm writing this, I'm in Phnom Penh, looking out a window to the Tonle Sap river, where 30-meter rowboats, holding sixty or seventy strong rowers are practicing in preparation for the Water Festival, which will take place here over the next three days. Hundreds of thousands of people come from all over Cambodia for this event, and it makes the already apparent chaos of Phnom Penh that much more acute. It's exciting, for sure, but I hope I can sneek back to the quiet of the countryside before the festival ends.