2014
Woodleigh Students have again visited the Chumkriel Language School in Kampot, Cambodia. Working with students from the surrounding rural areas to improve their English skills.
Student Reflection - Community Partnerships:
Cambodia – Chumkriel Language School 2012
We were all energetic at Melbourne Airport in the early hours of the 3rd of December. We couldn’t wait to board our 9 hour flight to Bangkok before the final leg to Phnom Penh. That said, the actual flying aspect of our trip was raising some concerns amongst the group. So let me rephrase that, we couldn’t wait to get off the plane at Phnom Penh. It was quite a sleepless flight for me as everyone was falling asleep to try to forget that they were thousands of feet above the ground but I was so excited to be going to Cambodia. I kept wondering what it would be like, if the students at Chumkriel Learning School (CLS) would like me, and if the staff would. I was really interested to find out about CLS and other social enterprises, and no form of education beats experience.
When we got out of Phnom Penh Airport it was extremely humid, and the weather would stay that way for the next two weeks. The difference was about 20 degrees between Melbourne and where we now were. Somewhat regrettably I didn’t see a lot of the city as we drove through it to Kampot, our final destination - I was asleep despite all my efforts. It’s not as exciting travelling on a bus. But there’d be more to see on the way back I figured. We met our bus driver Koun, who made a better second impression and who we grew to love. The Khmer word for thankyou is ‘arkun’ and being one of the only words we knew we loved saying it, and locals of course loved hearing it because of our accents. We were constantly saying ‘Arkun, Koun!’.
Kampot would be our home for over a week, and everyone was relieved to have finally arrived. My friend chose us a room on the third floor. The three flights of stairs were completely worth it for the view that wasn’t of a wall. Once we got there, exhaustion kicked in. The next day we went to CLS for the first time, it was a place full of life and energy; they were used to the heat.
We were all really keen to just get into whatever they wanted us to do. Which turned out to be fun activities with the kids – it was really hard. Actually, ‘Library’ was hard. You were either with little kids who are cute for about ten of the forty-five minute lesson and then become disengaged, preteens who tempt you by fanning you with books and trying to converse with you in English so they don’t have to read or teenagers who lack the ten minute cuteness. It’s hard to read with people who have no idea what they’re reading. I tried the unthinkable one time – I said ‘I love this book!’ and the kids thought it was the title so repeated what I’d said, in unison. I laughed then tried to compose myself. They looked at me like I was crazy. That was a long 45 minutes. Not to mention this one book about animals that most of us didn’t even know existed. Sometimes I had 3 kids in a library group, one time I had accumulated 20 teenagers somehow. The 3 hour morning school was exhausting. We had a long and immensely satisfying break filled with food and sleep.
Then there was night school. I loved night school. Each student was with their own class and own teacher – apart from a few – I was with Miss Soda, not as in soda, it was pronounced ‘saudah’. She would ride in on her motorbike (a bit late because she was teaching at another school before this) and at break she would have all of the male teachers’ attention as they sat on their bikes and probably talked about us. At first she thought I was at university training to be an ESL teacher. No pressure. She was corrected later by someone thankfully because I didn’t want to disappoint her.
The two classes ran for an hour each and finished at 7. My first class had about 20 kids between the ages of 6 to 9 and they were adorable. The way they teach over there is really different to here, they teach by a ‘rote’ system and it was difficult for me to be strict. Miss Soda didn’t really practice strictness apart from before she was told that I was a school student and whenever one of my teachers came to the class. Sometimes even I was scared of her, but the kids weren’t, they were pretty wild.
One of my favourite classes was when we lost power and we went outside to continue the class. I thought there was lightning but it was just the flash of Ms Kaindel’s camera. So I went outside with the kids and we played games.
The second class of the evening was 40 students from the ages of 11 to 20. I had a monk in my class - he always tried to talk to me before and after the lesson. One time I asked Miss Soda if on my work checking rounds I could approach him. I said something like “Am I not allowed to speak to ….” And she just says “No problem” and starts to laugh quietly. I’m like “Sorry, I am allowed to or not?” that was no problem again. This time, however, she starts laughing hysterically, tells some of the students, they laugh with her then tell other students. She goes over to the monk, tells him what I’ve said, he starts laughing hysterically. I realise I’m the only one not laughing. I don’t understand this cultural dissimilarity!
The first week was really just understanding what we were expected to do. The daily routine was the same. Our room at the guesthouse had a fan, a shower and a bed. Those were the necessities used to battle the humidity. We had a three day weekend, a cultural similarity. On Saturday we went to Rabbit Island in Kep. It was beautifully tranquil. You could only arrive at the island by boat and the water was lovely and warm when we came to swim in it.
On Sunday we hiked up Bokor Mountain - well, we were in a bus, but it still took forever. It was a very scenic drive: beautiful forest land, wonderful views of Kampot Province. Then we were told of the development taking over this natural wonder. We were alarmed that someone would ruin this paradise by building a casino on it. We went into a showroom for the development and I was flabbergasted, the territorial god who’s statue (that was huge) we’d just been to see on top of the mountain that in comparison to the buildings that are planned looks small and insignificant. The area of the site that was to be built on is enormous. Social Enterprises easily create better jobs for people here than this monstrosity. On the Monday we saw a film about The Killing Fields, a place we would be going to that Friday.
In the second week we were more comfortable with being at the schools because we knew what we were doing. We also knew our way around better, we all preferred going to Social Enterprises instead of the market; such as Epic Arts which is a café that employs locals who have experienced hearing loss, Dorsu which gives women employment opportunities related to making garments and Tiny Kampot Pillow which sold homewares, clothes and Krama’s (like a scarf). There was a lot of western cuisine on offer, as well as delicious Khmer food. I ordered a coffee shake one time (they’re amazing – blended ice and coffee with ‘sweet milk’) and they brought me beer. Don’t worry I sent it back, it was just funny re-telling it to Ms Kaindel. As for the copious amounts of food we lay on our beds eating during the day: Double Stuff Oreo’s were a staple, you can get them here, but they’re not as good.
Our friendly neighbours on the third floor were not from Woodleigh, their habits were quite interesting. From our bathroom you could hear through a grate to their bathroom, their door would be open and so would the door to the balcony they’d occupy (or monopolize) and so the music little kids would listen to whilst jumping on the community trampolines just across from our guesthouse would travel through to our bathroom. In other words, you showered to Gangnam Style. On repeat. Also whilst dining conveniently adjacent to the trampolines, Gangnam Style. Gangnam Style, Gangnam Style, Gangnam Style.
And then it was to be all over on the Friday, so on Thursday after night school we took ourselves, CLS and CLC staff including Mr T, ex-woodleigh now-volunteers, Koun and Parriott to dine at this place where we’d been before and they still didn’t have jumping ants in stock. What a shame. It was upsetting saying goodbye, to the kids and to the staff. It had been an invaluable experience.
On Friday we said goodbye to Hanna (our guide) and our guesthouse host and departed to The Killing Fields, which was in all truth of the word, intense. I’m not going to burden you with the horrible history now, because it’s honestly the most depressing thing. Everyone was silent at least, there were a few tears. It was difficult to forget about it and enjoy ourselves in Phnom Penh. Whilst travelling to the city I had my eyes wide open this time; there is this buzz of life there.
We said our last sad goodbye to Koun and we were free of responsibilities for 24 hours, we could have our last leg of fun before the flight. That’s exactly what we did. Because I went on the Indian Exchange in 2011 I discussed with Stevo the similarities between New Delhi and where we were. In my opinion, it was not as hectic here. It was much more calming, although not everyone shared my calmness – when we got in a Took Took, as soon as we started to move, everyone thought we were going to die. Our hotel was luxurious. After going out for dinner (and definitely not missing the jumping ants because we had frogs legs! I really thought I’d avoided that by not going on the French Exchange - they do taste like chicken – if you’re wondering) we went swimming until about 11pm and you could hear the rush from the streets on the other side of the hotel’s wall.
Saturday was our final day in Cambodia. We did so many things! We visited a palace’s grounds, the Russian Market, another market, the waterfront, heaps of little shops, a social enterprise who’s business was cupcakes (!) and another one where we had lunch. More dangerous cuisine – tree ants, lotus plant and tarantulas! We spent a lot of time in a street not far from the hotel, it was in the Paris end of Phnom Penh and it had quant little shops, most with French business names. It was rush hour on the way to meet the plane at Phnom Penh Airport. The short flight to Bangkok was nice, so was the sleep on the seats waiting to board. What I was not expecting to have happen was seeing a group from my old school waiting for the same plane. It’s a small world.
We were finally on our way home and I slept. I was looking forward to not feeling Australian temperatures as brutally, sharing the story of the trip, planning the next one and four more weeks of anti-malarial tablets.
Thank you to Stevo and Ms Kaindel!
Isabella Peppard Clark (Year 12)
