I was talking to a friend today. He works as an editor for Dow Jones Newswires/Wall Street Journal. He had asked me to update my blog. As you can see, I don't write very frequently. As we were chatting and chatting, he said I really should try writing. I told him I didn't know what to write. He said, 'write something that is close to your heart. What about that boy that moved you to tears when you were in Cambodia.' Ahh yes, I do remember that little boy that made me cry, the first time we met. So Mr Yeoh, here it is.
My girlfriends and I usually make it a point to go somewhere every year. A yearly girlie's trip we call it. And last year, we decided to head to Cambodia because I wanted to go see the Angkor Wat. Because we had heard so much about volunteering work in Cambodia, we decided to ask our guide if he knew of any orphanage in Siem Reap. And yes, he did. So, he did. He brought us to one. We didn't know what to expect and what was expected of us. We couldn't go there empty handed so we stopped by at the supermarket to buy rice, biscuits, sweets and a whole lot of goodies.
Upon reaching, we saw a whole lot kids minding their own business. Playing, talking, running about. Even when we arrive, nobody came to 'investigate.' They looked, turn away and continued doing their own things. We were just standing there. Doing nothing. Awkward. We weren't allowed to walk about until we met the supervisor. The person in charge was an Australian lady in her forties. Together with her husband, they came to Siem Reap to set up the orphanage. They were on a holiday here when they decided to leave Down Under to set up a home for these kids. She said, it was their calling. So, it was. She gathered the kids around and told them we were visitors and that they would all, together, show us around. The kids weren't very enthusiastic. Ha ha. I guess in a way, they were used to people walking in and out of their lives that none of us meant anything. Or two, they weren't used to strangers. I think the former.
It was after the introduction that the kids finally decided to 'check us out.' They were touching our shirts, our shorts, our BAGS (girls will always be girls, no matter where they are). Inquisitive bunch. :) They were taking our cameras and snapping away. And then, we listened to their stories. Most of them were put there because parents couldn't afford them. Some still go home to visit their moms and dads. While others live there permanently because they have no home to go back too. Listening to that broke my heart. I think everyone should have a home to go back too. No? At this point, came this little boy. He just held my hand. And when I look down on him, he gave me that biggest, cutest smile. I cried. I asked myself how anyone could abandon a child this cute? Somehow, you could sense that longing to belong.
I went there thinking I was the one giving. But in return, these kids gave me. They taught me a lesson. To cherish and be grateful for I have parents that love and adore me. And to never one second, take them for granted. These kids never experience childhood the way many of us did. The girls never experienced mummy combing their hair, helping them with homework, doing gardening. The boys never experienced playing football with daddy or riding a motorbike. And to think that these experiences never really mattered. Hell, yeah, they do. I am in my mid twenties. And I still throw tantrum at my mom when I wake up with nothing to eat. I am a capable young lady who drives and earns my own and yet, I still rely my mom to put food on the table. How mature is that? Brings me back to that day where these kids taught me words like 'grateful, thankful, appreciation.'
With no parents, they only have each other. Even then, they don't complain or sulk. Although, according to the owner, they do occasionally ask when will their parents come take them home. Our expressions changed totally. All of us, at the same time, when she told us that. Ha ha. I should have video recorded it. Would have been funny. It saddened all of us. I mean, how would you tell a child that their parents may never come and get them home?
We wanted to know how we could help. But donation wasn't something they wanted. They wanted teachers. They needed the manpower to help run the orphanage and school. And they wanted people who could dedicate a year or two of their lives. Something we couldn't do. Or rather, sad to say, unwilling. Selfish bunch. We left with a heavy heart. But at the end of the day, we all agreed that it was the best trip we've made by far.
