Culture Shock and Caring Chains

I agonize about the imperfections of my skin. I brood over all of the emails that I needed to send. I stress about figuring out my life plan. I fret over scoring well on the LSAT. I stew that John Mayer was coming to town the day after I leave for school. I panic about changing my major. I distress about driving 350 miles down to Richmond when gas is almost $4 a gallon. I begin thinking that the glass might actually be half empty. Can’t a girl get a break?

The moment these negativities enter my head memories of things seen, heard, and smelled immediately counter my bad attitude. At least I have means to afford something as simple as face wash. How can I complain that I have emails to send? Not only do I have my own computer, but my unlimited wireless access virtually puts the world at my fingertips. What’s so stressful about having options for my life plan? I can be whatever anything my imagination dreams up, within reason. And it’s not like the LSAT is a one-shot deal. Honestly missing John Mayer’s concert is not a life or death situation so clearly that’s ridiculous to be upset over. Changing a major isn’t that big of a deal because it won’t have too great an impact for graduation. And sad to know that gas is so expensive. But really, how bad can life be when you have a car and the opportunity to attend a university six hours from home? I guess when you frame things in this manner the glass is more than half-full; it’s just about to overflow.

It’s amazing the perspective that I’ve acquired living and working in Cambodia. One of my biggest fears coming home is losing that perspective, a fear far more founded than the other concerns that have recently been on my mind. I know that I’ve been blessed in more ways that I can count, but it’s exhausting to constantly have the overflowing attitude all of the time. Perhaps this is culture shock manifesting itself in the lenses I use to view the world. Through my old lens these problems seem legitimate; it doesn’t seem ridiculous to be a little self-conscious or worried about the future or doing the right thing or being able to pay credit card bills. But the new lens I acquired in Cambodia puts all of these concerns, annoyances, road bumps, and worries in an entirely new light: they’re glowing in frivolity.

After returning from such a unique experience it seems as though my life before Cambodia was merely paused. Now that I’ve returned things resumed where they left off; the music is playing again where it stopped three months ago. I’m still worrying about the same things, thinking about the same things, working on the same things. Nothing seems to have changed; I have not grown as a person, and I have not become more aware. The more that I become absorbed in the way things were before I left, the more quickly my perspective is disappearing because the noise from my previous life is drowning it out. All of the lessons learned and revelations revealed seem to have crystallized into my Cambodian past, immobilized and inaudible. But maybe all hope is not lost.

The other day a pause allowed my Cambodian lens to put things into focus while I rinsed off the dishes. I wondered why I needed to wash the dishes twice, once in the sink and again in the dishwasher? The water I used to rinse the dishes alone surely amounted to enough clean water for an entire Cambodian family for a day or perhaps longer. Even now it doesn’t seem right that I can thoughtlessly use more water for dishes than a family might have for a week. Although I don’t know what to do about the dishwasher, I do have affirmation that my Cambodian lens is not completely downed out, and it’s not crystallized. It’s just undergoing culture shock.

While I figure out a plan to conserve water and stay open to the thoughts that culture shock places in my head, I’ve decided to be proactive about making sure that my Cambodian lens stays in focus. I cannot let it crystallize into my memory alongside fried rice noodles with chicken and vegetables, biking around on an orange pushbike, discovering the wonder of the Angkor Empire, mispronouncing Khmer words, seeing hundreds of smiling faces at Amelio School almost every morning and afternoon, or smelling like citronella every hour of the day. Preserving my perspective not only helps me to grow, but it provides me a means to share my experiences with others in the hope that they, too, will want to become involved with Cambodia in one way or another. This is where the Caring Chains come in.

Caring Chains is a new, easy way to get involved and support CFC. The idea came to me while I watched some of the girls at Amelio School make macramé bracelets, a skill they had learned from a group of Belgian volunteers. The students really seemed to enjoy making the bracelets, and in very little time they were able to make bracelets that resembled the one that I’ve been wearing since I bought in Guatemala over a year and a half ago. The entire summer I’d spent time brainstorming about “the next big thing” that CFC could use to raise awareness; I wanted to come up with something that would become as well-know as the LIVESTRONG bracelet. While Caring Chains might not be made out of thin, stretchy rubber, but they certainly have a similar effect and they come in many different unique styles. The $10 from each Caring Chain has a huge impact supporting the children and teachers involved with CFC. It can pay one English teacher’s salary for 2 days, buy 2 school uniforms, feed one child rice porridge breakfast for 390 days, or provide 20 toothbrushes to ensure the children’s dental health. Most importantly each Caring Chain sold provides a sense of hope through education.

Even though life pressed play and this series of globetrotting stories has come to an end, I’m going to stay dedicated to helping Caring for Cambodia’s efforts. If you’d like to contribute by raising awareness about the situation in Cambodia please share the things that I’ve shared with you. You can also purchase one of the Caring Chains that was made by one of the students at the Amelio School; the entire $10 donation will go back to Cambodia through CFC and used in the way that it is needed most. And last but not least, I must thank you all for your continuous support. I could not have gotten through everything with all of the love and encouragement that you infused in me to take a change and make a difference.