Poverty. It affects every aspect of life here. Just yesterday, I was thrown into deeply disturbing culture shock. This is how it happened:
He was just a little boy, probably a year and a half old. I’ll call him Ti. He toddled innocently about as we ladies visited in a little bamboo house. But whenever he came near his mother, she angrily pushed him away. She was busy nursing and trying to quiet her five-month-old baby. Ti wandered toward the door and tripped on the door jam. He fell hard, hitting his head and getting a huge scrape on his arm. Of course, he began to cry.
I was sure that he would be scooped up and comforted, but not so! His mother didn’t blink an eye or even acknowledge that he had fallen. Another woman grabbed him by the arm and roughly dragged him over to her seat and slammed him down on the floor next to her. All of the other ladies laughed and pointed at him and seemed to make a joke out of it. They all joined in pushing, prodding and hitting the poor, terrified child. They seemed to be threatening him because he wouldn’t stop crying. One woman took out a salve and rubbed it on the bump on his head but still with no tenderness at all! Then Ti’s mother got up, picked up a long bamboo stick, and began swinging toward Ti. This worked. Poor Ti was so terrified of the stick that he stopped crying. As Ti’s mother was swinging the stick, all the ladies were laughing. Then they looked at me to see if I thought it was funny. They must have read the horror and disapproval written all over my face because they began to laugh and point at me!
I felt anger and sympathy all mixed up together. How I wanted to scoop up this child and comfort him in my arms. What made it harder than anything was the fact that I was sitting with a group of Adventist ladies. I suddenly felt all alone. I have cherished the hope of close friendships with the ladies in Cambodia, but suddenly I knew that in some areas I would never be able to relate with them completely.
As the day wore on, my mind wouldn’t leave the incident. “Why?” I prayed earnestly to my Heavenly Father. My mind wandered back a conversation I’d had with Sok Jan, our Adventist neighbor. She had commented on how obedient our children are and how well behaved. She said that Khmae children are disrespectful, rebellious, and disobedient. She and her husband want to raise their seven-month-old son like we have raised our children. She asked me for advice, and I shared a few basic principles. Then I asked her if there were any books in the Khmae language on Christian family values or on raising children. She ran into her house and brought back our English copy of “Child Guidance.” She said that she had tried to read it, but many of the words are difficult for her to understand because she doesn’t speak fluent English. Later, I asked some other Adventists from the mission if there were any Khmae books on those subjects. They said they were not aware of any.
The fact is, the Khmae want to train their children right, but they have no guidance on the subject. I can’t even imagine living like that. In my world, books on every topic are at my fingertips.
Later that day, we were talking with Ann, a worker for an NGO here in Cambodia. I told her what had happened. She shared that there is a great distinction between how the poor and the rich treat their children. People who have money spoil their children while those in poverty don’t see their children as very important. Some practically treat their children as animals. Perhaps the high rate of child mortality makes parents less eager to form strong emotional attachments with their babies. Life is only about survival. How dreary!
After some reflection, my anger toward the women who appeared so calloused in their treatment of Ti melted away. I longed to teach them the Christian parenting principles that I have learned. I longed to write or translate a book in Khmae on Christian parenting. I longed to teach them that love given to our children is not wasted. I began to imagine what a light Adventists could be to the communities around them simply by the way they treat and train their children. Love is a strange thing to behold here. It shines out in bright contrast. People would be drawn to its warmth and ultimately to Jesus.
It is difficult, but for the present, I must swallow all of these desires and dreams. It is hard to let days pass while more and more children suffer, but I know that the best way for me to become useful to the Lord is to buckle down and learn the language. It would be oh-so easy to get distracted doing good things and not accomplish what we have come here to do. I know that in order to be effective in the future, we must conquer the language and study our people group, the Cham.
We are now living in a little Khmae village in a house owned by the Adventist mission. We will stay here for the first nine months to a year while we learn the language. We are very grateful to be here, though it is quite a distance to our language tutoring in Phnom Penh. It is really a blessing for the children. They don’t have to be cooped up in a small, stuffy apartment on a busy, noisy street. We have abundant opportunity to practice language here where very few speak any English.
Unfortunately, we are nowhere near a Cham village. We are eager to meet and build relationships with the Cham, yet we know we must be patient in this area as well. We pray every day that God will open up ways for us to build relationships with the Cham and later open doors for us to move into one of their villages. It is not easy to get into a Cham village. They are very guarded. The other day in the news, it was reported that the Cham had burned an American flag and stomped on it (the worst kind of insult) because they were angry at George Bush and the Americans. They put the blame for the execution of Saddam Hussein on America. Please pray that they will be open to us though we are American/New Zealanders.
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