Living Off Memories

“Goodbye” is such a simple word. For a word so simple, it has many meanings. Sometimes, there is excitement for the next time you’ll see someone behind these words. Other times, there is a sense of relief for finally being done. Or, as in my case, there is the sorrow of knowing you may never see someone’s face again.

Before coming to Cambodia, life carried on the only way I knew it. Now, I can’t imagine life without the second family I have made on the other side of the world. Life without daily hugs from my sisters Srey Pich and Srey Mey, or daily tickle fights with my brother Niroon, is unimaginable now that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting so many beautiful children.

In Nicaragua, I ended my final blog by saying I had left half my heart with the children at Escuela Especial. I now know that there is always more of your heart to give, just as there is always more to learn. As much as I wish I could take my second family back to the nature-filled mountains of Vail, I know such things are impossible. So from here on out, I will live off of the memories these children have given me. I will look back on the time we danced in the rain, when the children first welcomed us to the orphanage, and even the tears that we shed when saying goodbye, and I will smile. I will smile because it happened, and that is something to be grateful for.

Defining Hope

What is hope? Hope is a word we’ve all known since we were toddlers. I used to associate the word with desires and wants such as: I “hope” I get a role in my musical or I “hope” I get an A on my test. However, a teacher at the school said something that entirely changed my idea of the word.

In between classes, a teacher by the name of Jaam Ra told me that she “teaches because she hopes a good education can make many lives better.” After that sentence, I no longer see things such as the desire to get a part in a musical or get an A on a test as genuine hope. If I want a role in my musical, I need to put in the effort to have a good audition; if I want an A on my test, I better study. These are just 2 examples of things that were under my control all along.

I now believe that genuine hope is not associated with desires or wants, but with needs. In Cambodia, I have met children who have as close to nothing as it gets. They were born into poverty and now own hardly anything more than a few clothes, a bright mind, and a shining smile. They didn’t choose to be born into their current circumstances. They have no control over where they are now. So what do they do? They go to school to practice their english, and they hope. They hope that tomorrow will somehow be better than today, and that the seemingly endless cycle of poverty will be broken.

That, is genuine hope.

Learning Happiness

Colorful roofs. That’s the first thing I noticed when I arrived in Cambodia. Everywhere you look there are red and blue roofs. That’s why it came as a shock to me when I first saw the gray walls of S21. The dull color of the walls match the grim truth of what happened there about 40 years ago. Once a high school, S21 was converted into a prison during the Khmer Rouge. It was a place used for torturing innocent people that Pol Pot, the leader of the Khmer Rouge, saw as a threat to modern times. These people included anyone thought to be an intellectual. People were arrested just for wearing glasses or having soft skin. Of the thousands of S21 victims, only 12 survived. Walking through the very rooms that were used for such inhumane events made my heart go out to those who died, as well as those who are still alive and recovering. This visit made me realize why Cambodia is where it is today and why I came to help.

After our trip, we went to the orphanage. I looked into the innocent, welcoming eyes of the children and then looked around at all the trash. Something about it just didn’t match up to me. These children deserve better, and the fact that I can help them, whether that be through teaching or manual labor, is a blessing. These trips don’t just benefit the children we work with, they benefit us too. In Nicaragua, the children were able to show me a new part of myself, a new way of life, and a new perspective. They taught me more in that week than I would have ever learned in a lifetime without them. In the same way, the children at the orphanage and schools have already made me realize so much about myself and the world around me.

While teaching the pre-schoolers, I realized I had more patience than I ever thought and I rediscovered my ability to maintain a positive attitude. While cleaning out the back of the stage, I learned that I have more perseverance than I knew and I can mentally take on more than I expected. While playing in the rain with the children at the orphanage, I learned that happiness is a choice, and you can make that choice any time on any day. That’s why today, after cleaning trash out of a dirt pit for almost 6 hours, when I was hot, filthy, and tired, I was happier than ever.  I can already feel the permanent imprint these children are leaving on my heart, the least I can do is do everything in my power to make their lives easier in any way possible. By doing that, I just might be able to change their lives forever.

“The people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the one’s that do.” -Steve Jobs.

Time

Time. How do you understand something so intangible? It's a measurement. A measurement we created simply so we know when to be somewhere. But what is it really when you think about it? A word. Time is just a word. But sometimes a word makes all the difference. A week. A week is all I had in Nicaragua. In that week, I fell in love, I taught, I learned, I changed. Six months. I had six months to raise $2500 and complete 6 hours of community service. Three months. Three months until I board the plane. Three weeks. I will have three weeks in Cambodia.

That is my biggest fear for my trip, time. I've now raised all the money I need and I've completed my community service, neither of which was easy. I worked to get to a place where I can say everything is set for me to leave for Cambodia. Now that I'm finally at that place, I'm beyond excited, but nerves are setting in as well. Will I forget the khmer I know when I actually have to speak it? Will I be able to execute my lesson plans properly? With this amazing opportunity comes a seemingly infinite number of ways to mess up as well. With Team Nicaragua leaving in less than a month, all sorts of memories are resurfacing. My last day in Nicaragua is one I will never forget. All the hugs, all the tears, they were all caused by time. I only had a week in Nicaragua, and that was not enough time for me, no amount of time would ever have been enough. I may have a full three weeks in Cambodia, but my biggest fear is that I will still not be satisfied. I'm scared for when I will have to say goodbye. As irrational and useless as it is, I am simply scared of time.

How do you avoid time? You can't. But what you can do is take advantage of every second you have within the given time. I may only have three weeks, but those are going to be the best three weeks of my life. My biggest goal for Cambodia is to seize every moment I have with the kids. I may not be able to stop the sun in the sky, but I can make every second count that the sun is up. I will not think about the last day. I will not think about the pain I will feel when I have to say goodbye. I will think of today, and today only. If I make every second count, maybe, just maybe, I will have enough time.

Permanent Memories

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.

Ordinary People, Extraordinary Opportunites

Phnom Penh, Cambodia: a city approximately 8,500 miles away from my home in Vail, Colorado. Phnom Penh, Cambodia: a city, a hope, and a dream. Phnom Penh, Cambodia: a reality.

My name is Cate Maslan. I am 13 years old and I am in 8th grade. I have an older sister in 11th grade and an older brother in his freshman year of college. I love to play basketball, dance, ski, sing, and act. My typical day looks like this:
1) go to school
2) do homework
3) basketball, dance, and/or voice lessons
4) more homework
5) sleep
On weekends it looks more like this:
1) wake up
2) homework
3) theater and/or ski
4) sleep

If there's one thing that should tell you about me, it's that I'm your typical thirteen-year-old girl. I go to school, I have extra curricular activities, and I argue with my siblings. In April of 2015 I traveled to Rivas, Nicaragua where I spent my spring break working at a school for children with disabilities. I was twelve at the time. A ordinary twelve-year-old girl, getting an extraordinary opportunity.

On October 11, 2015, at 6:28 pm, I got a phone call. One glance at the caller ID was enough to make my heart skip a beat. I answered the phone with a dry throat and sweaty palms. A short three minutes later I was squealing as I hung up the phone and already planning my first fundraiser. Six moths I had been dreaming, hoping, and praying that I would get the opportunity to travel to Cambodia. All of those dreams, hopes, and prayers became a sudden reality, all within that 3 minute phone call. I am going to Cambodia. It is no longer a hope or a dream. I am now an ordinary thirteen-year-old girl, getting another extraordinary opportunity.

Nicaragua taught me lessons I will never forget. I learned that it's the little things in life that matter most, I learned how it feels to fall in love, and most of all, I learned that the way to change the world is not all at once, but one smile, one hug, and one person at a time. That is what I hope to accomplish over the course of my three weeks in Cambodia.

While in Cambodia I will have the wonderful opportunity to work with children at the Cooperation of Peace Orphanage as well as make improvements to the orphanage's property. I will also get to teach English at two local schools: a preschool and an elementary school. In order to participate on this trip I will be responsible for fundraising $2,500, attending group meetings, learning the Cambodian language (Khmer), collecting supplies for the kids I will be working with, completing 5 hours of community service, and writing more blogs.

Words cannot describe how thrilled I am to embark on my second journey with Children's Global Alliance. Children's Global Alliance, or CGA, is a non-profit organization that takes kids ages 12-17 on service trips to Tanzania, Morocco, Nepal, Nicaragua, and Cambodia. While in these countries the selected students serve, teach, and support the poor, disabled, and orphaned children living in these developing countries. Spending a week in Nicaragua was enough to teach me many things about myself and the world around me, I can't wait to see what I discover when I get to spend three weeks in Cambodia.

Phnom Penh, Cambodia: my reality.

"And who can say if I've been changed for better or for worse, but because of you I've been changed for good."

The sun has risen and set, the day has come and gone, and with it the trip of a life time. Working with the students and teachers at Escuela Especial has changed how I will look at things forever. What I taught the students about math and spelling is important, but what they taught me is far better. I always thought people were over exaggerating when they said the kids on the trip were like family, but I realize now that it is nothing short of the truth.

Every single student at Escuela Especial has changed my life forever. One of the most important lessons the students have taught me is that it's the little things in life that matter. I've gotten to witness so many of the "little things" this week that I am thrilled to have experienced. One of my favorite and most recent moments was with a middle school girl in Auxililladora's class. Her name is Mercedes, but she always wrote it as "Mecebes". The previous CGA kids who had been in Auxililladora's class all said to keep working with her on her d's, but not to get frustrated if she didn't get it because she really struggled with it. Sure enough, I arrived in Auxililladora's class Thursday morning to see "Mercebes" written in big letters on the top of her paper.

For nearly two hours I sat next to Mercedes, explaining and demonstrating all the possible ways to write a d. For 1 1/2 of the two hours there were still b's written all over her paper. I was almost ready to move on to writing neater r's when I thought of the last possible way to write a d. First I demonstrated 3-5 times. I then gave her the pencil and helped guide her hand to make the right motions several times as well. Then with fingers crossed, I handed her the pencil. I watched as she slowly drew a small circle and a line on the right hand side. It wasn't all that pretty of a d, but in that moment it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. "Muy bien Mercedes! Es correcto!" I said excitedly. She stared at the letter she had drawn for several seconds before jumping out of her chair and giving me what felt like a 10 minute hug. I watched as she filled her page with the letter d and the name Mercedes until lunch, and I can't remember a time I felt more proud of anyone or anything.

I will arrive back in Vail on Sunday, but I will not be the same person I was a week ago. I wear the same face as the girl who left, but a face is merely a mask. No amount of time nor any number of miles can ever sever the bond between me and the people at Escuela Especial. When I get on the plane Sunday morning, I will only have half a heart. I am leaving the other half with these kids and I wouldn't have it any other way. They may forget my name after I leave the same way I might forget some of theirs, but I will always remember the smile on their faces, their arms wrapped around me, and their fingers laced in mine. These kids have taught me that these trips are all about leaving part of yourself with them to hold on to and remember when times are hard, and that's exactly what I intend to do. So I'll come home with half my heart, but the lessons and love the students at Escuela Especial have given me will make that half stronger than my full heart ever was.