A post in which I recount how I arrived in my Provincial Capitol today:

This morning I was sitting at the breakfast stall near where the busses come and go from my town awaiting the departure of the bus that was to take me to my provincial town that was already running an hour late. I didn't mind this though, because I was enjoying talking to the woman who ran the stall and playing with her three year old daughter who insisted on strutting around in her sparkily pink dress and pigtails and posing every so often so that everyone could see just how beautiful she was. Right about as I was finishing my noodle soup, a man from the bus company came up to me and said it was time to go and ushered me towards a small, dusty Toyota pickup truck. I asked if the roads were flooded again (as this happens from time to time with the dirt road leading to my site). The man said yes and that the bus could not make it through but this Toyota was going to my provincial capitol and I could get a ride with them. I trusted this man, because he had gotten to me to my provincial capitol two weeks earlier safe and sound, and taking share-taxis is something that is very common here, so I hopped in.

Imagine a small, early 90's model Toyota pickup truck. Now imagine nine people inside the cab of the truck (myself included), fifteen people sitting in the bed of the truck with lots of luggage, and about five more people sitting on the roof of the cab. As I sat making what little small talk I could with the woman practically sitting in my lap, I couldn't help but smile at the situation I had found myself in... one that has become familiar to me in my three short months here (I have taken a few share-taxis before this, but this one takes the cake for # of people in/on one vehicle). As we barreled down the dirt road, we came to the first flooded section which we passed through with relative ease. The second flooded section we came to had an odd looking make-shift bridge over the deepest part which some local entrepeneurs had set up seeminlgly overnight. They were standing at the entrance trying to charge cars and taxis that needed to pass over it to get where they were going, but they did not seem to be having much success at this scheme. The third section was nothing but a muddy quagmire that was probably two feet straight down in mud, but we made it through (this was nothing short of a miracle considereing how much weight we had in that tiny truck). From there it was pretty smooth sailing to the paved highway, and then on to the provincial capitol.

After arriving in the city, and after I had walked off the terrible cramps in my back and legs from sitting in such an awkward position for two hours, I came upon a brightly colored tent set up in the middle of the road. Inside the tent was a band of about ten musicians playing many different traditional Khmer instruments at a deafening volume. I didn't care- I loved every second of it. I wandered by, and casually asked some of the men standing outside the tent what was going on. They were so shocked that I spoke a little bit of Khmer and asked what I did to which I replied that I was teaching English and working as a health volunteer in the village I live in. Their eyes got very large, and they exclaimed, "The man who is paying for this party is from that village! You must meet him immediately!". I walked inside the tent, and I bowed and greeted the old man as the men told him my story. He invited me to sit down, and we listened to the music while he shouted questions at me over it. I replied politely and smiled, and spent about half an hour in the company of his family listening to the music. I eventually realized that I had come into town to run errands that I had to get done today, so I made my exit and told them to find me the next time they were in the village.

Khmer hospitality is absolutely incredible. Really.

In other news, I started teaching this past week at my high school. I teach six classes, four 11th grade classes and two 10th grade classes. My classes are really large, the smallest is about 35 students and the largest is somewhere around 65. I have also started teaching about eight teachers at my high school who don't speak English but want to learn. The main goal for my trip into town this weekend was to find curriculum for the teachers to learn from, which I eventually had to order from Phnom Penh with the assistance of one of my co-teachers who was, amazingly, right down the street from me when I texted him asking him what I should do when I couldn't find the right books.

Sorry to end this abruptly, but I am tired. Ill try to update again tomorrow before I go back to site. As always, love to everyone and have a happy halloween!