Sometimes I've discovered a theme song to sing on my travels. It's just some hymn that seems to fit that particular adventure that I find myself singing throughout the trip. Now, I don't exactly have a concert type voice, but I sing it softly in worship to the Lord.
Some years ago as I was hiking the Canadian Rockies, through some of the most spectacularly beautiful scenery anywhere in the world, my theme song was "How Great Thou Art". During my visit to Nepal a few years later it was "When morning gilds the skies my heart, awakening, cries,'May Jesus Christ be praised" because in a spiritually stifiling atmosphere, it was important to me to sing, "May Jesus Christ be praised!'
While in Cambodia, I've been singing "All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name." When walking through the temples at Angkor, where people were worshipping idols, it was important to me to be able to sing praise to the Living God, whom I serve. He is after all, the Lord of all the earth. It's always appropriate to sing praise to Him, no matter where in the world we might be:
"Let every kindred, every tribe on this terrestrial ball, to him all majesty ascribe, and crown him Lord of all."
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
More snapshots of life in Cambodia
When I saw "morning glory" listed on the menu I imagined it to be a dish of flowers. After all, in Italy we breaded and fried zucchini flowers, why shouldn't they serve morning glories? Finally I got the chance to have some, but there were no flowers and no vines. Here, morning glory is the name of a swamp grass--the kind that grows in ditches at the side of the road--and often it is braised and served with oyster sauce or served in soup. It isn't bad unless you try to imagine how much sewage your serving might have absorbed. It is after all, a green vegetable, and I expect that it contains at least some vitamins.
Before I came to Cambodia I expected that everyone would drink tea. After all, this is Asia. What a surprise to realize that the national drink is coffee, which is grown here. Coffee here is served with generous helpings of condensed milk, which both whitens and sweetens it. Since this is a tropical climate, cold drinks are very much in order. Iced coffee is served with a thick layer of condensed milk at the bottom of the glass--perhaps a quarter to a third of the glass--before the coffee is poured in over it to make a striped looking beverage, which is rather attractive to look at.
Why would anyone put the legs of kitchen furniture into bowls of water? It looks rather strange. But it is a very effective way of keeping crawling insects from getting into the stuff stored in that furniture!
Road crews have been paving some dirt streets in my neighborhood. It's a very labor-intensive, low-tech operation. They do send in machinery to level the roadbed. The rest is done by hand. First of all, they dump loads of rock on the levelled roadbed, and crews of women come in and spread the rocks out in a reasonably even level. Then they dump loads of sand, which the next crew loads up into wheelbarrows and dumps on top of the rocks. The other day as I watched a crew do this on a nearby street I was deeply saddened to see young boys, who looked to be about 10 or 12 years old, pushing and dumping the wheelbarrow of sand. I don't know if they use child labor on every street that gets paved, but seeing it even once is heartbreaking. Then they bring in a portable cement mixer, which is placed at the head of the street, and laborers shovel cement, sand and gravel into it and let it mix. The mixed concrete is shoveled into a wheelbarrow, wheeled down the street and dumped over a latticed frame of bamboo, where it is spread out by hand and becomes the paved road. At home, where labor is more expensive, they would just drive up in a huge cement mixer truck and dump the contents on the street for the road crews to spread out evenly.
Before I came to Cambodia I expected that everyone would drink tea. After all, this is Asia. What a surprise to realize that the national drink is coffee, which is grown here. Coffee here is served with generous helpings of condensed milk, which both whitens and sweetens it. Since this is a tropical climate, cold drinks are very much in order. Iced coffee is served with a thick layer of condensed milk at the bottom of the glass--perhaps a quarter to a third of the glass--before the coffee is poured in over it to make a striped looking beverage, which is rather attractive to look at.
Why would anyone put the legs of kitchen furniture into bowls of water? It looks rather strange. But it is a very effective way of keeping crawling insects from getting into the stuff stored in that furniture!
Road crews have been paving some dirt streets in my neighborhood. It's a very labor-intensive, low-tech operation. They do send in machinery to level the roadbed. The rest is done by hand. First of all, they dump loads of rock on the levelled roadbed, and crews of women come in and spread the rocks out in a reasonably even level. Then they dump loads of sand, which the next crew loads up into wheelbarrows and dumps on top of the rocks. The other day as I watched a crew do this on a nearby street I was deeply saddened to see young boys, who looked to be about 10 or 12 years old, pushing and dumping the wheelbarrow of sand. I don't know if they use child labor on every street that gets paved, but seeing it even once is heartbreaking. Then they bring in a portable cement mixer, which is placed at the head of the street, and laborers shovel cement, sand and gravel into it and let it mix. The mixed concrete is shoveled into a wheelbarrow, wheeled down the street and dumped over a latticed frame of bamboo, where it is spread out by hand and becomes the paved road. At home, where labor is more expensive, they would just drive up in a huge cement mixer truck and dump the contents on the street for the road crews to spread out evenly.
Choeung Ek
Most of the time I write these items in a state of excitement. This one I write out of profound saddness. You may not even want to read this one. It's gruesome.
I visited killing fields. It was a deeply moving experience and I was saddened to see the very place where so many people died so brutally. I thought it was important to visit this place to understan Cambodian culture and attitudes. The memorial is very effective. One cannot walk away untouched by it.The first thing you see is a tall structure made mostly glass, and as you approach you see that it contains shelves of skulls, some intact, some with great holes in them. The are the remains of some 8000 of the victims. In the years 1975-1979 thousands of people were sent here to be brutally executed. They were bound and taken to the edge of a pit and either bludgeoned or stabbed to death and pushed into a common grave with other prisoners. The Khmer Rouge couldn't affoard to waste bullets on executions, so they were done in a primitive way. Some 300 people were trucked to this place and killed here each day. The slaughter was indiscriminate: men, women, children and even infants were executed. One of the most sickening things in this place was to see the tree with a very wide and strong trunk against which infants and small children were bashed. It seemed that no one was exempt from the kiling: pesants, intellectuals, government ministers, laborers, teachers--the whole gamut of society was subject to execution. It was a horror beyond imagining.Today the place is peaceful. Yet they have left the common graves from which they exhumed the remains of the victims as great big holes in the ground. One is very aware that this is no park: these were the killing fields.
Just before I joined my friend, Alison to make this trip, a friend gave me a copy of Killing Fields, Living Fields, the story of how God was at work to bring people to faith in Himself even as this barbaric spate of genocide was happening. There is no situation so dark and hopeless that Lord cannot transform it into a means to glorify Himself. Thousands and thousands of people escaped over the border into Thailand and scores of thousands of these came to faith in Christ while there. So many times when I have asked people old enough to have lived through this period how they came to faith in Christ, they have told me that it was in a refugee camp. Since that dark and horrifying time there has been a profound spiritual hunger among people here. Certainly God has brought good out of an unthinkably evil situation.
I visited killing fields. It was a deeply moving experience and I was saddened to see the very place where so many people died so brutally. I thought it was important to visit this place to understan Cambodian culture and attitudes. The memorial is very effective. One cannot walk away untouched by it.The first thing you see is a tall structure made mostly glass, and as you approach you see that it contains shelves of skulls, some intact, some with great holes in them. The are the remains of some 8000 of the victims. In the years 1975-1979 thousands of people were sent here to be brutally executed. They were bound and taken to the edge of a pit and either bludgeoned or stabbed to death and pushed into a common grave with other prisoners. The Khmer Rouge couldn't affoard to waste bullets on executions, so they were done in a primitive way. Some 300 people were trucked to this place and killed here each day. The slaughter was indiscriminate: men, women, children and even infants were executed. One of the most sickening things in this place was to see the tree with a very wide and strong trunk against which infants and small children were bashed. It seemed that no one was exempt from the kiling: pesants, intellectuals, government ministers, laborers, teachers--the whole gamut of society was subject to execution. It was a horror beyond imagining.Today the place is peaceful. Yet they have left the common graves from which they exhumed the remains of the victims as great big holes in the ground. One is very aware that this is no park: these were the killing fields.
Just before I joined my friend, Alison to make this trip, a friend gave me a copy of Killing Fields, Living Fields, the story of how God was at work to bring people to faith in Himself even as this barbaric spate of genocide was happening. There is no situation so dark and hopeless that Lord cannot transform it into a means to glorify Himself. Thousands and thousands of people escaped over the border into Thailand and scores of thousands of these came to faith in Christ while there. So many times when I have asked people old enough to have lived through this period how they came to faith in Christ, they have told me that it was in a refugee camp. Since that dark and horrifying time there has been a profound spiritual hunger among people here. Certainly God has brought good out of an unthinkably evil situation.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Women's Retreat
This weekend I participated in a retreat for women in leadership of Christian organizations here. We went to a place called Kep, which the French built as a resort town during colonial times and called Kep-Sur-Mer. The Khmer Rouge destroyed their huge beach houses, but their skeletons are still standing and give ther impression of great elegance. The King also had a beach house (read that mansion) out on a point of land there that was also abandoned about the time of the Khmer Rouge. It hasn't been destroyed--just abandoned--and I can well imagine some developer coming in and making a very elegant restaurant and hotel there. Today Kep is a quiet, little known beach community. Even my Cambodian student friends have never heard of it.
We stayed at a guest house next door to the home of an amazing couple, in whose home we met. Ling is a dynamo of a little Cambodian woman and is the most gracious and giving hostess you''ll ever want to meet. She is married to a French man, Jean Luc, who teaches in Singapore, one month on and two months off, and writes in his off time. He is laid back, funny and totally charming. Ling had the vision to build a retreat center in Kep, and bought a lovely plot of land on the other side of the mountain from where they live. We saw plans for the retreat and these two people are a couple of the most imaginative, creative folks I've ever met. They are trusting God for the funds to start building and for the people to whom they will minister there. The Lord has already provided a friend who teaches architecture in England, who brought his class to survey the property and do elevation drawings. I expect that the Lord will continue to provide in unexpected ways.
Meanwhile their house was just finished in November. Ling and Jean-Luc let their imaginations run wild when designing the house, a U shaped structure with a wall of windows behind the balcony overlooking the Gulf of Thailand. They have used tropical hardwoods native to Cambodia, native stone of various sorts, various bits and pieces from France, from Bali from all over the world. And they open up this fabulous structure to groups of Christian friends, treat them like visiting royalty, feed them wonderful food, including exotic tropical fruit that grows on their property and bless them copiously.
My Bible study with them went well. I decided to do Jesus' encounters with women and focused on the Samaritan Woman at the Well, whom I consider to be the first women missionary, whose testimony brought her whole village to Jesus. I only needed to do one session: we galivanted and played for the rest of the time. Ling, who is very task oriented, took us to task on Saturday afternoon when she said, "This is supposed to be a retreat and you are having a vacation instead." My instructions from Donna Rudy were to make sure that these women relaxed and stopped working. I think the time was well used with these workaholic women
We ate food that I''ve never had before. Local cuisine is flavored with bunches of green peppercorns, which grow there and/or is served on a bed of them. We ate fresh seafood, including a lot of squid, of which I''m very fond, and tasted exotic fruit that I never dreamed existed. I don''t even know the names of much of the stuff we ate, but it was fabulous. I do remember durian fruit which grows on a tree in quite a large pod, sort of like jackfruit, but with a spikier pod. The fruit is inside and looks like huge beans, that you lift out of the various compartments of the pod. The pod, quite frankly, stinks, so you prepare it out of doors. (Jean Luc refused to allow any of it to be brought indoors.) Anyway, the fruit is the consistency of pudding, creamy and soft and sweet with an unusual fruity flavor.
The best part of this experience was having fellowship with these extraordinary women. All of the Cambodians present had to flee during the Khmer Rouge regime, all of them spent time in refugee camps, and some even came to faith in Christ while there. ( Keing, my roommate for the retreat, said that before she got to the refugee camp she had never even heard of Jesus, but there someone shared the gospel with her and she believed. She also said that in the largest of the camps there was a church of 30,000 people, so God was at work in the midst of adversity.) All of them have been through horrifying experiences and all have had to build new lives in other countries. The amazing thing is that none of them show any sign of bitterness. On the contrary, they are the most loving, gracious, giving people I have ever met. I felt honored indeed to spend time with them. They really ministered to me.
We stayed at a guest house next door to the home of an amazing couple, in whose home we met. Ling is a dynamo of a little Cambodian woman and is the most gracious and giving hostess you''ll ever want to meet. She is married to a French man, Jean Luc, who teaches in Singapore, one month on and two months off, and writes in his off time. He is laid back, funny and totally charming. Ling had the vision to build a retreat center in Kep, and bought a lovely plot of land on the other side of the mountain from where they live. We saw plans for the retreat and these two people are a couple of the most imaginative, creative folks I've ever met. They are trusting God for the funds to start building and for the people to whom they will minister there. The Lord has already provided a friend who teaches architecture in England, who brought his class to survey the property and do elevation drawings. I expect that the Lord will continue to provide in unexpected ways.
Meanwhile their house was just finished in November. Ling and Jean-Luc let their imaginations run wild when designing the house, a U shaped structure with a wall of windows behind the balcony overlooking the Gulf of Thailand. They have used tropical hardwoods native to Cambodia, native stone of various sorts, various bits and pieces from France, from Bali from all over the world. And they open up this fabulous structure to groups of Christian friends, treat them like visiting royalty, feed them wonderful food, including exotic tropical fruit that grows on their property and bless them copiously.
My Bible study with them went well. I decided to do Jesus' encounters with women and focused on the Samaritan Woman at the Well, whom I consider to be the first women missionary, whose testimony brought her whole village to Jesus. I only needed to do one session: we galivanted and played for the rest of the time. Ling, who is very task oriented, took us to task on Saturday afternoon when she said, "This is supposed to be a retreat and you are having a vacation instead." My instructions from Donna Rudy were to make sure that these women relaxed and stopped working. I think the time was well used with these workaholic women
We ate food that I''ve never had before. Local cuisine is flavored with bunches of green peppercorns, which grow there and/or is served on a bed of them. We ate fresh seafood, including a lot of squid, of which I''m very fond, and tasted exotic fruit that I never dreamed existed. I don''t even know the names of much of the stuff we ate, but it was fabulous. I do remember durian fruit which grows on a tree in quite a large pod, sort of like jackfruit, but with a spikier pod. The fruit is inside and looks like huge beans, that you lift out of the various compartments of the pod. The pod, quite frankly, stinks, so you prepare it out of doors. (Jean Luc refused to allow any of it to be brought indoors.) Anyway, the fruit is the consistency of pudding, creamy and soft and sweet with an unusual fruity flavor.
The best part of this experience was having fellowship with these extraordinary women. All of the Cambodians present had to flee during the Khmer Rouge regime, all of them spent time in refugee camps, and some even came to faith in Christ while there. ( Keing, my roommate for the retreat, said that before she got to the refugee camp she had never even heard of Jesus, but there someone shared the gospel with her and she believed. She also said that in the largest of the camps there was a church of 30,000 people, so God was at work in the midst of adversity.) All of them have been through horrifying experiences and all have had to build new lives in other countries. The amazing thing is that none of them show any sign of bitterness. On the contrary, they are the most loving, gracious, giving people I have ever met. I felt honored indeed to spend time with them. They really ministered to me.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Scenes from Life in Cambodia
This week I went to the hairdresser here for the first time. It was really an experience. My friend, Donna Rudy had given me the name of hairdresser she used while she lived here. The shop is in a section of town frequented by tourists and the customers are mostly foreigners. I had reached the stage where I tell my hairdresser in Philadelphia, "I look like a shaggy dog. I need a haircut."
While they were shampooing me, they gave me a facial. They wiped my face with a wet cloth and laid strips of cucumber on me. "Hey! I smell like a salad!" After a few minutes they took off the cucumber and wiped my face again with another wet cloth. Then they did a facial massage that was absolutely delicious. Interestingly, the man in the chair net next to me was also getting the full treatment.
The lady in charge cut my hair and did a good job. When she finished she rubbed mousse into my hair and blow dried it so it came out a bit more boffant than I'd have liked. "Oh, my goodness! This is how my mother used to wear her hair. I don't want to look like my mother!!!"
When she finished my hair the next team came along and did an arm, shoulder and back massage that utterly revived me and calmed me down to the point that I didn't even complain about wearing my mother's hairdo. The cost of all this treatment? Beyond the budget of most Cambodians, but for foreigners it's a real bargain: $8.00.
I don't speak Cambodian but I gather that this is a culture in which everyone needs a title. I volunteer an afternoon a week with the Evangelical Fellowship of Cambodia and the woman I'm working with asked what she ought to call me. "Call me Cora." "Yes, but what title should I give you? Mother, aunt, sister..." "Call me sister."
All this would explain the greeting that I get from the guys who work in the furniture refinishing shop down the street from where I live: "Hello, Mama!" I learned years ago in Kenya that "Mama" is a title of respect used for any woman older than one''s self.The first time a Kenyan called me "Mama" I wondered who on earth he thought I was. Here in Cambodian culture I don't freak out any more.
One of the sad things about being here is seeing all the poverty. There are beggars everywhere and they are quite agressive and persistent. The saddest thing is to see the children who beg for a living. Co workers tell me that there are organziations of beggars and the kids are beaten and required to go out and beg. Sometimes there is a mother with children begging on the street. They camp out in front of restaurants frequented by tourists. If you sit at a sidewalk table, they realyly get up close and personal. In the neighborhood where the hairdresser is located there are disabled people begging, children, mothers with babies, the gamut. While I was having my hair cut some beggar kids were playing with a bike parked outside the shop and doing who knows what else and one of the employees of the shop grabbed, of all things a feather duster, ran outside and chased them down the street. The other evening as I was buying fruit in the open market two elderly ladies came along begging. The lady selling fruit gave them a handful of fruit, then the ladies turned to me to beg silently with hands in what we would call a "praying position". I said "No". The fruit seller said, "But these ladies are very poor." (And I've seen them sitting on the sidewalk in the shade, counting their money.)
There is a lot of crime and corruption here. It's everywhere. Sometimes it comes out in unusual ways. At 5:00 a.m. on Sunday the electricity went off. When the ceiling fan in my room stopped I knew the electricity had quit. We were without power for the whole day--the only house in the neighborhood so deprived. The landlord came and brought an electrician, who tried to find the source of the problem. Finally it was obvious: Someone had cut and stolen our power line.
While they were shampooing me, they gave me a facial. They wiped my face with a wet cloth and laid strips of cucumber on me. "Hey! I smell like a salad!" After a few minutes they took off the cucumber and wiped my face again with another wet cloth. Then they did a facial massage that was absolutely delicious. Interestingly, the man in the chair net next to me was also getting the full treatment.
The lady in charge cut my hair and did a good job. When she finished she rubbed mousse into my hair and blow dried it so it came out a bit more boffant than I'd have liked. "Oh, my goodness! This is how my mother used to wear her hair. I don't want to look like my mother!!!"
When she finished my hair the next team came along and did an arm, shoulder and back massage that utterly revived me and calmed me down to the point that I didn't even complain about wearing my mother's hairdo. The cost of all this treatment? Beyond the budget of most Cambodians, but for foreigners it's a real bargain: $8.00.
I don't speak Cambodian but I gather that this is a culture in which everyone needs a title. I volunteer an afternoon a week with the Evangelical Fellowship of Cambodia and the woman I'm working with asked what she ought to call me. "Call me Cora." "Yes, but what title should I give you? Mother, aunt, sister..." "Call me sister."
All this would explain the greeting that I get from the guys who work in the furniture refinishing shop down the street from where I live: "Hello, Mama!" I learned years ago in Kenya that "Mama" is a title of respect used for any woman older than one''s self.The first time a Kenyan called me "Mama" I wondered who on earth he thought I was. Here in Cambodian culture I don't freak out any more.
One of the sad things about being here is seeing all the poverty. There are beggars everywhere and they are quite agressive and persistent. The saddest thing is to see the children who beg for a living. Co workers tell me that there are organziations of beggars and the kids are beaten and required to go out and beg. Sometimes there is a mother with children begging on the street. They camp out in front of restaurants frequented by tourists. If you sit at a sidewalk table, they realyly get up close and personal. In the neighborhood where the hairdresser is located there are disabled people begging, children, mothers with babies, the gamut. While I was having my hair cut some beggar kids were playing with a bike parked outside the shop and doing who knows what else and one of the employees of the shop grabbed, of all things a feather duster, ran outside and chased them down the street. The other evening as I was buying fruit in the open market two elderly ladies came along begging. The lady selling fruit gave them a handful of fruit, then the ladies turned to me to beg silently with hands in what we would call a "praying position". I said "No". The fruit seller said, "But these ladies are very poor." (And I've seen them sitting on the sidewalk in the shade, counting their money.)
There is a lot of crime and corruption here. It's everywhere. Sometimes it comes out in unusual ways. At 5:00 a.m. on Sunday the electricity went off. When the ceiling fan in my room stopped I knew the electricity had quit. We were without power for the whole day--the only house in the neighborhood so deprived. The landlord came and brought an electrician, who tried to find the source of the problem. Finally it was obvious: Someone had cut and stolen our power line.
Survivor Stories
As usual I'm collecting people's stories. People here have the most amazing stories to tell. A group of friends went off last Friday to visit some survivors of the Killing Fields here, and since I had committed to teaching an Italian Cooking lesson I couldn't accompany them. However, at supper the next night, one of the people who did go shared some of what they heard from the pepole they met the day before.
One of the people my friends met was Sok. During the Khmer Rouge he was arrested and while in jail he was beaten for 8 hours, I believe, by a guard. He eventually got out of jail, and escaped to Thailand, where he was in a refugee camp. The Christians in the refugee camp fasted and prayed for the people who would arrive there. Could this be why so many people's stories of their spiritual pilgrimage begin in a refugee camp? In any case, Sok met Christians and was converted. Within a very short time of his conversion-- in the first hour, evidently-- he ran into the former prison guard who had beaten him. Now what? He ran up to his former tormentor and said, "I've just been completly forgiven of all my sins and I want you to know that I forgive you, too." Is it any wonder that the former prison guard also became a Christian?
Sok's wife, Savy experienced the grace and protection of God before she even knew Him. She was being forced to marry a Khmer Rouge soldier. On the day of the wedding, she said she needed to go out and buy some things for her wedding outfit, and took the opportunity to escape in a boat with her sister. After a while they heard a motor boat and saw that it was filled with soldiers, so they slipped into the river to escape. They made their way to Thailand, which is no mean feat for any of these people. It meant walking through the jungle and swimming across rivers and avoiding soldiers and land mines. That any of them made it was God's grace. At one point Savy and her sister knew that they needed to cross a river but were unsure of where to go. It was a dark night and they really couldn't tell where to go. Suddenly the clouds parted briefly and the full moon shone brightly on the river so that they could see where to go and they were able to cross. The irony of all this is that there was no full moon that night. It was really only a sliver. But Savy made it to Thailand and the refugee camp, became a Christian and married Sok.
In their years in Canada they planted 3 Cambodian churches in Ontario and are back here to run a "modular seminary" where pastors come and study for something like 11 days at a time and don't have to leave their families or their churches for an extended time.
I'm overwhelmed by the stories I hear. These people have been through suffering that we can't begin to imagine, and yet in the midst of all the horror and the cruelty and sin involved, God is calling out a people for Himself in this part of the world and showing them grace. It may be that when people have nothing, no homes, no posessions, no safety, they realize how much they need a God who will save them, protect them and guide them.
One of the people my friends met was Sok. During the Khmer Rouge he was arrested and while in jail he was beaten for 8 hours, I believe, by a guard. He eventually got out of jail, and escaped to Thailand, where he was in a refugee camp. The Christians in the refugee camp fasted and prayed for the people who would arrive there. Could this be why so many people's stories of their spiritual pilgrimage begin in a refugee camp? In any case, Sok met Christians and was converted. Within a very short time of his conversion-- in the first hour, evidently-- he ran into the former prison guard who had beaten him. Now what? He ran up to his former tormentor and said, "I've just been completly forgiven of all my sins and I want you to know that I forgive you, too." Is it any wonder that the former prison guard also became a Christian?
Sok's wife, Savy experienced the grace and protection of God before she even knew Him. She was being forced to marry a Khmer Rouge soldier. On the day of the wedding, she said she needed to go out and buy some things for her wedding outfit, and took the opportunity to escape in a boat with her sister. After a while they heard a motor boat and saw that it was filled with soldiers, so they slipped into the river to escape. They made their way to Thailand, which is no mean feat for any of these people. It meant walking through the jungle and swimming across rivers and avoiding soldiers and land mines. That any of them made it was God's grace. At one point Savy and her sister knew that they needed to cross a river but were unsure of where to go. It was a dark night and they really couldn't tell where to go. Suddenly the clouds parted briefly and the full moon shone brightly on the river so that they could see where to go and they were able to cross. The irony of all this is that there was no full moon that night. It was really only a sliver. But Savy made it to Thailand and the refugee camp, became a Christian and married Sok.
In their years in Canada they planted 3 Cambodian churches in Ontario and are back here to run a "modular seminary" where pastors come and study for something like 11 days at a time and don't have to leave their families or their churches for an extended time.
I'm overwhelmed by the stories I hear. These people have been through suffering that we can't begin to imagine, and yet in the midst of all the horror and the cruelty and sin involved, God is calling out a people for Himself in this part of the world and showing them grace. It may be that when people have nothing, no homes, no posessions, no safety, they realize how much they need a God who will save them, protect them and guide them.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
CHINESE NEW YEAR
Today is the Chinese New Year. It is a big holiday here, and evidently throughout Asia.
It seems to be a time to honor one's ancestors. As I was walking through the streets in my part of town this morning, I noticed people making burnt offerings of paper play money and other things. When I arrived at the internet cafe that I visit almost every day I saw the altar, the "spirit house" that sits in the corner, right next to where I'm sitting as I write this, has offerings on it: incense a candle, five cups of some kind of liquid (I'm not going to taste it to find out what it is) a stack of oranges, several packets of cooked rice wrapped in banana leaves, a cooked fowl (either a chicken or a duck), a dried fish, an egg and other edibles.
Even here in a place of business, ancestors are duly honored today.
It seems to be a time to honor one's ancestors. As I was walking through the streets in my part of town this morning, I noticed people making burnt offerings of paper play money and other things. When I arrived at the internet cafe that I visit almost every day I saw the altar, the "spirit house" that sits in the corner, right next to where I'm sitting as I write this, has offerings on it: incense a candle, five cups of some kind of liquid (I'm not going to taste it to find out what it is) a stack of oranges, several packets of cooked rice wrapped in banana leaves, a cooked fowl (either a chicken or a duck), a dried fish, an egg and other edibles.
Even here in a place of business, ancestors are duly honored today.
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