People say that smell is the strongest human sense. You may see something that reminds you of a painting you saw, or you might hear traffic that reminds you of a city, but those things can be forgotten over time. Smell on the other hand is almost always unique to a certain place or thing. Think about it, no matter how long it's been since you went to the doctors office, you always know the scent. You might not be able to immediately picture what the waiting room looks like, or how the chairs felt, but we all know what a hospital smells like.
My point is that every place on earth has distinct features. Living in Colorado, I will always remember the way the air smells somehow different after a snowstorm. I will never forget how it feels to be surrounded by mountains full of yellow trees in the fall, or the sound of aspen leaves crunching under my feet as I walk down the sidewalk.
Much like countries, people have distinct aspects too. While everyone is different, people from the same country or region often share certain mindsets because of something that happened to their country in the past. In 1975, all Cambodians suffered from an event called the Khmer Rouge. Through a horrifying series of events, Pol Pot was responsible for the death of up to 2 million people. His goal was to revert Cambodia back to year 0. To accomplish this Pol Pot forced citizens to evacuate the cities and abolished money, private property, and religion. He tortured and killed anyone thought to be a modern intellectual, wiping out most of Cambodia's middle class and work force. Others died of starvation, disease, or exhaustion from the relentless labor they were forced to do. Cambodians are still suffering from this event today, but in an odd way it has united the Cambodian citizens because of their respect and understanding towards one another.
While I look forward to learning about events like the Khmer Rouge and other major aspects of Cambodia's history, I also look forward to learning what little things make Cambodia unique. Coming home from Nicaragua, one of the things I missed the most was the smell of salt and palm trees. I missed the certain way they cooked their rice. I missed seeing the colorful houses as I drove to Escuela Especial. I missed listening to the locals speak in quick and fluid Spanish. I missed the feeling of the sun beating down on my back as I pushed the children on the swings after lunch. I fell in love not only with the children, but with the country as a whole.
Part of what makes up a country is the country's culture. One thing I know about Cambodia is how you greet others. You are supposed to fold your hands at your chest and bow as a way of greeting, and you deepen the bow and hold your hands higher when greeting someone of extreme authority. Simple things like this seem like random little fun facts now, but when I'm half way across the world I'm sure that I will see the beauty in their culture.
Cambodia offers me the opportunity to fall in love not just with children I'll meet, but with another way of life. I don't know what I will smell or hear as I walk down the roads of Phnom Penh, but I know that it will be imbedded in my memory permanently. My trip is about 6 months away, a very long or very short time depending on how you think about it. As it grows closer things are finally starting to coalesce into a big picture. I have almost 3/4 of my money raised and I am working on memorizing my Khmer. With each step I take toward my trip, I'm getting more and more excited.
The other night I even dreamt about my trip. I was pulling weeds and the occasional piece of trash out of the soil of the orphanage's garden, sweat collecting around my bandana despite the dark clouds overhead. A few minutes later, I felt rain drops cooling my skin. Before long, it began to pour and the scene changed to an image of myself and 4 other volunteers playing with a few of the children in the now muddy area by the garden. A little girl pulled me closer to the stage, where it was slightly less muddy. Figuring she was just leading me inside, I willingly followed. We walked a short while before she found a small puddle created from a pothole in the grass. She jumped right in the middle of the puddle, and the water splashed me, soaking my shoes and leggings. Laughing hysterically, the little girl ran back toward the other volunteers and her friends. A smile formed on my face as I took off after her, chasing her through the rain. I scooped her up in my arms as I caught up to her, wrapping her in a tight embrace.
This dream reminded me of why I choose to apply for these trips. I may never see the children at Escuela Especial again, but every one of the students faces is etched in the stone walls of my mind. I can't predict what my trip is going to offer, but no matter what happens I can assure you there will be new memories created and more faces added to the stone wall. Certain things are unforgettable, and memories of people around the world are certainly one of them.
