I am so proud of Sok Heng and Niroon. I feel like they have grown up so much in the last year, although they are still so small and young. It is a strange concept, I feel as though they are so young, impressionable and unguided, yet they are forced to grow up in ways far beyond their years. Once in a while, you will see their delicate side, their need for love and support.
I taught Sok Heng how to write his name in English one day at the library. They had been learning and writing the alphabet in the preschool and he was so proud of his letters. When class was over he grabbed my hand and we walked to the library, telling me he loved me. It was a long shot, but I decided my mission was to help him learn his name. It took us about an hour and a half. His hand in mine, writing the letters over and over, him writing, laying his S down on its side, writing I instead of H, the K never looking quite right. Slowly the letters started to form correctly, an older girl came over and helped describe in Khmer how the letters were supposed to work and something inside him clicked. He continued to write his name over and over, looking up at me every time, eager for approval and praise. I asked the older student to encourage him to go show his grandma (his main caregiver, besides his sisters), I was worried that she might not understand what the paper even said, let alone be happy for his accomplishment, but thankfully she too must have realized how much he needed it, because he came back grinning, saying she told him he was very good at writing in English. Sok Heng spent the rest of the day carrying around his paper and writing his name and alphabet repeatedly.
Niroon was a little shit last year. Being the youngest of 9, and raised mainly by his older brothers, he has lived his short life forced to be very independent and tough. He struts around the slums, shoulders back, head held high and chest puffed, arms swinging by his side, always with purpose. No one ever taught him how to speak Khmer, so his speech is a mashup of what he has taught himself and heard from others. He is frequently in trouble, somehow managing to push around other kids with his 30 pounds of skin and bone. This year, Niroon had a broken arm that had not been dealt with, so when we took him to the doctor, he found himself in a sling for a few weeks. I have never seen him so mellow and asking for love. Not that Niroon is every very mellow or asks for love, but he would allow himself to be held, kissed and squeezed and was clearly in pain. There is something about that boy that I love so much. My small personal goal became to give him as much love as I could muster, and teach him something as small as the alphabet or a few English words. Niroon began to seek me out once and a while, ask me to play games with him, read him books, or simply saunter by me without saying hello, just to get my attention. Every chance I had I would grab him and give him a big kiss and tell him I loved him. I don’t know if he has ever been told he is loved by anyone in his family, so for the two short weeks we had together, I told him every chance I got. One day, I was standing outside the library, Niroon came up and grabbed my hand and drug me towards Sok Heng’s grandma’s house. She lives on the corner across from the school & library and runs games out of her house. Frequently the parents and grandparents of the kids at the orphanage spend all day there gambling away the money they could use to care for their families. Niroon came up, grabbed my hand and started dragging me towards the house. We arrived at the door and Niroon pointed inside, saying “Ma, Ma”, a woman looked up at me and stared for a moment, then broke out into a smile. “Sua S’dei”, I said to her, realizing that Niroon had just introduced me to his mom. He looked up at me, big brown eyes glistening and a big toothless smile, and I was overcome by such honor. He wanted me to see his mom, and he wanted her to see me, and I wanted her to see him so happy and so loved. Niroon finally learned my name this trip, and said it frequently, and something so simple has never made me so happy.
Yesterday was the last day at the orphanage. I wasn’t sure how I would handle everything, it’s always very emotional leaving. Lisa Marie tried to soften the blow of the day by having all the students discuss their feelings the night before at dinner. It felt good to get some tears out on our own so we could be present and enjoy every part of our time with the kids. The day was by far the hottest day we’ve had all trip. It was so humid, we were all sticky and feeling drained. I felt less desperate and helpless this year, knowing that I will be back next year. The older kids also seemed to understand that concept, at least in the terms of saying goodbye to Krissy, Natalie, Lisa Marie and I. It was not a goodbye, it was a “See you later”. I played lots of games with the little boys, Niroon, Phanny, and Sok Heng. I was exhausted, hot and hurting, but I wanted to give everything I had to everyone I could, a years worth of love needed to be given in two weeks, too last and be felt until my next trip. Gifts and cards were handed out like flyers, hugs and I love you’s were exchanged at every glance. I practiced my Khmer I love you, I wanted to make sure that everyone understood, Khnom Sro’line Neit. The kids preformed their dance show for us, traditional Khmer dances and hip hop numbers. Our students loved it, laughing and watching intently. Every one of them is so incredibly talented, it breaks my heart that so few get to experience what they are capable of. Chean cooked up our traditional fried chicken dinner, we waited on the kids, giving them seconds, thirds, filling their small tummies up with more food than some of them had ever had. The mood began to sadden after dinner, the older kids realizing that the time was coming for us to leave. I tried to stay back a bit, not wanting to take away hug time from our students, but decided to start walking through and saying goodbye when Lisa Marie gave the 15 minute mark. I was walking in the small hall between the stage and the office headed towards the dorms when Paneth walked up. His wrapped his arms tight around my waist and dropped his head on my chest, his tears slowly dampening my shirt. I wrapped my arms around him and relaxed my head onto his, choking back the tears welling up in my eyes. I don't know how long we stood there, but it felt like an eternity. Neither one of us willing to let go, neither one wanting the moment to end. At some point, Phanny came and wrapped himself opposite of Paneth. His little head resting on my hipbone, grasping my arm with both his little hands, sobbing while trying to nuzzle his head deeper into my side. I couldn’t hold it together, holding these two sweet crying boys, hot tears began to pour down my face, I clung to them as tight as I could trying to savor every heartbeat and breath we all shared together. When we finally released, I walked out from the roof and looked up, the sky was a mixture of pink, orange and purple clouds, it was the exact same color as our last night at the orphanage last year, and I felt peace knowing it will be the same next year too.
