The Timeless Gift

- written by one of the RJC student volunteers, Josh, after their 3 week volunteer trip to Phnom Penh, Cambodia.-

Cambodia was never what I expected it to be. It was not about how it looked, the kind of food I ate, or how different life in Cambodia is from that in Singapore. It was…like this:

We were just another group of people, there to do community service, as some would put it. As expected, and as paradoxical as it may sound, we were shocked by the things we saw on first arriving in the Psa Toch village, Toul Sangke commune, in Phnom Penh. The many houses crammed together, the sparse – no, bare furnishings inside, and the many people sitting idly with nothing to do, were just the tip of the iceberg.

As we carried out our project, there were many small things that have made me fall in love with the Cambodian people. On many accounts, the trip meant a lot to me, because of the many personal experiences I had with the people. We once rented three huge woks, each one large enough for a young child to have a bath in. The woks were literally lathered in a thick, black layer of what must have been grease, soot and burnt material, what I suspect arose from months of deep-frying without washing. When none of my projectmates would help me wash them so they could even be used for cooking, the housemother and the househelp were the ones who bought me more sponges and metal scourers, most likely recognizing I had never dealt with such grime and tar-like slime before, for I had black hands and the wok still look just as black. After I washed the first wok, they proceeded to help me with the other two, getting their hands dirty as well.

The children were the ones I miss most though. We conducted lessons during their classes with Riverkids, and on other occasions just played games with them, on top of continually giving them rides on our backs. Each child would throw themselves at us, in hope of getting a piggyback. It was heart warming how much they enjoyed our presence, but similarly heartbreaking to realize it was because they hardly receive the kind of love we showed them. I spent especially a lot of time with this gang of four boys aged 12 to 13, and they were the ones who created an emotional storm for me.

I will forever remember the last day I spent with them before leaving for our group’s holiday in Siem Reap. I felt so helpless when they said, “Siem Reap – No, no” to me, and I was unable to tell them how much I wanted to stay behind for lack of Khmer words. But they still decided to make the most of the last day and we took a stroll down the main street of the slum. Stopping by a few food stalls, I was very taken aback when they insisted I eat the food they bought. Next they were bringing food to me from all sides and it took much effort to convince them to eat together with me. Looking into the eyes of the boy who gave me the meat of his sandwich that he bought, leaving him with nothing but bread and a small piece of lettuce, I saw his eyes shining happily back at me, as he nodded his head for me to eat. My heart was on the verge of being overwhelmed if it was not for their joy at seeing me enjoy the food they bought for me.

Later that evening, as I decided to cross the road with them to their house, amid joyous shouts and cheers, they gave me two watches – things that must have been their prized possessions even if the watch did not tell the time anymore. I was dumbfounded – these were the children who were skinny because they did not get enough to eat, who sometimes had hoarse voices because they hardly drank water, yet wanted me to eat the food they bought with what little money they had; whose fingers were so rough, calloused and thick like an adult’s because they had to pick rubbish so their family could survive, yet gave me their precious watches! They were ones so in need of love, yet out of the depths of their hearts gave me so much more love than I ever gave them or could have ever imagined myself giving.

No, it was not the huge amounts of food we wasted day after day because it did not suit our taste, nor the selfish and ungrateful complaints we made about so many things that made me feel most guilty. It was the fact that I knew I would return to my pampered life in Singapore, and nothing much would be done about those children who have just as much a right, if not more, to a childhood, education, and life as us.

They might have little, but they have taught me so much more that I taught them. One of them did not have a timeless watch to give, but to tell you the truth; I have received from each one of them a timeless gift that outweighs all. It was the timeless gift of love.