From the mouths of geese...

11/01/11

Special day – special school on the road to Battambong

Finding a respectable toilet is virtually impossible once you hit the road. There are rest stops along the two lane roads that qualify as highways, but they are not quite the experience Americans are used to. On the road to Battambong we by-passed quite a few of them, particularly when they were populated with other tour buses. Ours is small, but the lines for the large ones with passengers from all over the Mekong Delta have little regard for manners or the concept of the que.

Fortunately, we saw a small school on the side of the road, and the call came to “stop there, stop there.” The 20 of us descended on the three outhouses aligned in most other times for the students of the school. After asking their permission, we began to take our turns. As we did, a crowd of school children gathered about us.

One of the many things I have come to appreciate is the thoughtfulness of the students who are on this trip. Because everything is so inexpensive here, our group has what seems to be limitless spending power, so no one hesitates to give what they have to others. Ping began to hand out some of the candy she had, and I returned to the bus to gather a bag of Twizzlers I had purchased to break half to give to the students.

We should take a lesson from them. I took a rope of licorice and broke it in half to double my supply as there were probably 70-80 kids surrounding us.  Many of them were not asking directly for the candy and would not take it unless we put it in their hands. Then, they would retreat huddling with another friend or two, and in almost every case, took what they had been given and broke it in half to share with another. Everybody shares here.

With the snacks complete, a call came out from Beth to teach them a game. We had them all sit in a circle and she began to demonstrate the world-famous, culturally universal “Duck – duck – GOOSE!” She moved around the circle, tapping each child on the head, and then with the declaration of the goose (displayed by one of our own), they began to race around the circle with the latter taking the place of the former.

Two demonstrations were enough for the kids to get it. They took at it with gusto, the children whizzing about the circle, kicking up dust with their feet as they hugged the turns. The fun somewhat ended when one of the bigger boys succeeded in catching the smaller child who had tapped him on the head, and pulled him to the ground with a thud and a puff of dust.

It was suggested after that we move on, and we were offered a tour of their classroom. They were spartan, but had basic wood benches and tables that served, textbooks in Cambodian, and the colors were displayed in women’s style dress. 

There were bars on all the windows, which we see a lot of here, to protect the innards of the facility when they were unsupervised, but you can’t help but notice how the lack of security butts up against the idea that even in education, these children are locked up. The system is stacked against them, and even though these kids were luckier than most to even have the opportunity, you know the prospects of their success are as limited as the economic prowess of one of the poorest countries in the world.

The good news is, like all of us, kids don’t have the long-view and opinions we are often plagued with in day to day interactions, and we were blessed with a moment where we were the kids, simplifying our existence by playing the universal games that children still can play.