Obedience.

As the year comes to an end, I can mark off another Christmas away from home.

As I sat with some of the children from one of our boy’s home, there was one huge similarity between us. Aside from loving Jesus, we were all away from our actual homes this Christmas. Some children were only a couple of hours away from home, while others a full day’s travel, and some of us, a half a world away from our loved ones. Although being so far away from home could have put anyone into a bad mood, the truth is, all of us were exactly where God called us to be.

There’s something spectacular about obedience to the Creator of the Universe. When I was younger, I used to think obedience was just a prerequisite into adulthood; children have to obey adults and then once they become adults, they don’t have to “obey” anymore. I used dream about the days where I could eat ice cream before dinner and my mom couldn’t ground me because, well, I’m an adult now. Or, when report cards came and I used to be afraid that my parents would see my poor grades and I would have my toys or T.V time taken away from me as punishment for not doing well in school. My obedience to my parents was fear driven. They established rules and if the rules were broken, certain punishments would apply. My parents were sentinels with their rules and rightfully so. As a child I tried to get away with murder, time after time. I needed my mother’s relentlessness to sticking to the rules and my father’s resounding “No’s” to help shape me into the woman I am today.

The older I become the more obedience makes sense, especially during the Christmas season. We all know that Christmas is the birth of Christ. We know why he came, to mend the bridge between us and our Creator, a new opportunity to know God the way he always wanted us too. But at a cost. Whether it’s trusting someone all over again, allowing them back into your life after they’ve hurt you, or sticking up for them when you know you shouldn’t, in order to mend a broken relationship, we have to sacrifice something. In Christ’s case, it was His life he had to sacrifice.

Christ’s sacrifice for our lives was not accidental. And if his sacrifice for my eternity wasn’t enough, I am drowned in his mercy and grace because I know nothing I do will ever be enough for Him and yet he still accepts me and calls to me, sin after sin after sin. My obedience to Christ is not fear driven like my obedience to my parents. My obedience to Christ is driven by awe and amazement that He would chose someone like me to help further His Kingdom. My obedience to Christ is driven by his love for me. And this is the message we want our children in our Remember Nhu homes to hide deep inside their hearts. Our obedience to Christ isn’t because he will do something for us, but that he has already done something for us before we were born, before we even knew we needed it. And when we obey our Lord, we know amazing things will come out of our obedience. In my case, the opportunity to live on the other side of the world and experience friendship and love in ways I didn’t know existed. In our children’s cases (although they may not have known it at the time who they were truly obeying) they’ve gained their freedom from ever being sold into the sex trade, the opportunity for higher education, and the opportunity to learn about God, who loves these children so much he refuses to let them go.

I’ve learned that obedience is about saying, “Yes” to whatever God has in store for your life. And from previous experiences, I have never been disappointed when I said “Yes” to God.

“See how very much our heavenly Father loves us, for he allows us to be called his children, and we really are!” 1 John 3:1

Time goes by faster the older you get.

The month of October and November have seriously flown by! It feels like just yesterday we were excited about traveling to Cambodia and Vietnam, and now they just seem like a distant memory. Sadly, the older I become, the more I understand my dad when he says “Time goes by faster, the older you get”.

Both Cambodia and Vietnam were such an amazing experience. To visit other Asian countries and compare them to Thailand, even the US, was a growing and learning experience. I’ve always believed that I would regret my life greatly if I looked back when I’m 80 and realized I didn’t go anywhere or do anything worthy of my time.

Not only was I able to appreciate the differences and similarities of these countries, I was also able to learn about their history and the development of what they are now.

Cambodia: The poverty level is far more noticeable in Cambodia than in Thailand. Every time we hopped on a TukTuk to get from our hotel to anywhere, eyes were always on us. They were either gawking at our American-ness or scoping out what we were carrying. It was a little unnerving at times. We were told more times than not to always be aware of our belongings, wear our bags in front of our bodies, don’t use your phone or iPad to take photos, always be aware of your surroundings, etc. I know this is all common sense, even in America you have to be careful of your belongings, but it reminded me just how comfortable I have become in my day to day routine living outside of the US.

Although there was a sense of uneasiness in the everyday hustle and bustle of life in the city, having the opportunity to visit our home outside of Phnom Penh was peaceful. This opportunity to be involved with our Khmai home made me feel like I really am a part of something so much bigger than myself. Watching a whole other culture of children with the same joy and hope in their eyes as ours, laughter at the same things we find funny, sharing lunch together, and just wanting to spend time in fellowship, instinctively made me want to protect these girls and help them grow into strong Christian women. And how amazing is it that they have been given the opportunity to do so!

Learning about Khmai history helped me understand the desperation, poverty, and development of the country.
*History lesson for the day* If you are unaware, back in the 70’s Pol Pot, the leader of the Khmer Rouge movement, decided to create an agrarian society. In doing so, he evacuated cities and forced the Khmai people into camps in the countryside. His influence to create this society was birthed by his admiration for the tribes of Khmai people who lived on the outskirts of the jungles in Cambodia. They lived free of Buddhism, money, and education. Pol Pot wanted a new country that was free of social institutions, like banks and schools. He renamed Cambodia to the Democratic Republic of Kampuchea and killed all teachers, doctors, businessmen, monks, and basically anyone who could lead a revolt against him. He wanted to go back to “Year Zero”.  Slogans like “What is rotten must be removed” were popular propaganda during the Khmer Rouge. There is no exact number of deaths, but it is believed that between 1 to 2 million people were executed during the reign, either worked to death or malnourished in the countryside or killed in the Killing Fields located all over Cambodia.

I had the opportunity to visit Tuol Sleng Prison and the Killing Fields. Tuol Sleng, which means Hill of the Poisonous Trees, was once the Chao Ponhea Yat High School. Tuol Sleng was one of at least 150 execution centers/prisons throughout Cambodia. More than 17,000 adults and children were held captive at Tuol Sleng under the suspicion of connections with the former government or with foreign governments, as well as professionals and intellectuals. Victims were tortured and coerced into naming family members or friends who were then arrested and tortured into admitting false crimes committed. Towards the end of the regime, about 150 people survived Tuol Sleng.

We then visited one of the best known monuments which memorializes those whose lives were lost during the Khmer Rouge, Choeung Ek, just outside Phnom Penh, one of the many collective Killing Fields sites where thousands of prisoners and captives were brought to from Tuol Sleng and slaughtered. Over 8,000 human remains were recovered at these killing fields. There are still remains scattered all over, bones and rags from clothing, with signs asking visitors to not step on bones.

It’s been about 40 years since the beginning of this genocide; elders who could have passed down traditions were executed. After the genocide, children were left to mend together a country that had been torn apart by a group with a distorted vision. Sadly, culture and traditions are no longer important; the Khmai are adopting western ideas and ideals. The most important thing our children in our homes can learn is 1. Who Christ is and 2. Who they are and where they come from.

We also had the rare opportunity to visit the Floating Village, a village of Vietnamese refugees who live in boats that move with the tides of the river. Fortunately, during the Khmer Rouge, many Vietnamese people who were living in Cambodia at the time were deported out of the country. Unfortunately, many personal documents like birth certificates and citizenship records were lost or destroyed. Neither Vietnam nor Cambodia recognized these people as citizens of their countries after the Khmer rouge and in turn were forced to live on the water since there are no laws stating ownership of the river. Remember Nhu has a handful of girls that are sponsored through the Food and Education program who live in this village. It was so cool to experience life outside of what American society deems normal. These families live their entire lives on boats, getting into smaller boats to row to land when having to run errands like grocery shopping or visiting the doctor. We were able to spend time with our sponsored children, learning different dances and songs they perform at school.

After our visit to Cambodia, we boarded a plane and headed to Vietnam, the great land of Pho and Banh Mi. Back at home, one of my favorite restaurants to go to is a local Pho shop with my best friend. We usually split a big bowl of Pho and a Banh Mi, talking about how cool it would be to actually go to Vietnam and eat authentic Vietnamese food. Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine that I’d have the chance to actually fulfill this dream. But with Vietnam being only a couple hours away from Thailand, we had the opportunity to eat our fill in Pho and learn all about Vietnam’s history during the Vietnam war.

Like day is to night, so is Vietnam is to Cambodia. In Cambodia, the streets were littered with dirt and trash. In Vietnam, the streets were littered with city workers catching trash before it hit the ground and communist flags blowing in the wind.

Even though Vietnam was more aesthetically pleasing to the eye, it too had an air of alarm to it. I went into Vietnam with very limited knowledge of the history and current state of government and left with a new understanding of war and their society. 

Every street we walked on or crossed was decorated with the Vietnam flag and the communist flag.

Everywhere we went, we were constantly reminded that North Vietnam overtook South Vietnam.
We visited the War Remnants Museum, which showcased the effects of Vietnam War on the Vietnamese. It showed conditions that prisoners were held captive in (both American and Vietnamese) and the chemical effects of Agent Orange, a toxic substance used during war that cause many birth defects and deformities after the war. For the most part, many southern Vietnamese believe both parties were to blame for the war and the extreme fighting measures caused by the war.

 After visiting the museum, we then traveled outside the city to the Cu Chi Tunnels, intricate tunnels used during the war by the Viet Cong (North Vietnamese Communist guerilla troops) under the jungle terrain of South Vietnam. We learned about the different sections of tunnels and actually got to crawl through a 100 meter tunnel (a little over half a mile). Being in the tunnel was a weird experience! The echoes of other tourists in the tunnel made it seem like people were right behind me or in front of me when in actuality, they weren’t close at all. The tunnels were dark and moist, many times I had to use my cell phone flash light to see if anyone was really in front of me. I can’t imagine how people lived in the tunnels for months. Sadly, I didn’t think to take a picture of me in the tunnel L.

What the tunnels look like under ground

Entrance to the 100 m tunnel I crawled through!

traps

The following day, my roommate and I explored the Vietnamese coastal side, learning about traditional Vietnamese snacks, food, dancing, and music. We rode boats to get to the different islands, refreshing my soul more than I thought it would. I love Thailand but I’m not near the ocean or large bodies of water and having the ability to be near the water made me comfortable. I was around something familiar; the water, boats, sea birds, the smell of salt in the air. It was very much needed.

I think all of us on this trip came back with more real life education than any textbook could have ever taught us about these two countries. We all arrived at our homes after the 9 day trip with a better understanding of what poverty, hopelessness, and desperation really looks like and how it drives everyday life decisions. We also came back home with new definitions of hope and second chances, seen through our sponsored children in both the Khami home and floating village.

But before we could let all of these amazing experiences marinate in our minds, we were up and at ‘em again, having to pack our bags and jet set 5 hours into the mountains for a week trip with Mission View Church, who traveled to Thailand to host a VBS for one of the homes they sponsor in Northern Thailand.  And as life would have it, as soon as we came back home, English lessons started up for the house parents, helpers, and children. I have lived the expression, “Work hard, play hard” in its fullness this past month. Most of the pictures from the VBS are posted on my Facebook page Cristina in Thailand. 

But through all of these experiences, I’ve learned that hope shines through the deepest darkest stains life has left on us, it peels away at the layers of bondage hate and fear try to wrap us in, it is the gentle whisper in a world full of chaos and noise. Hope is what gives us a reason, a second chance to continue on in life. Hope is what encourages people in America to action for those less fortunate in other countries. Hope is what fuels our international workers to leave the luxury of the free world behind to care for the least of these. Hope is knowing that even though we live in a broken world, one day everything will be made right.

If there is nothing else that I’ve learned on this trip, it’s that I’ve seen God’s light shine in the darkest of times, the darkest of places, and I simply cannot believe that He isn’t here with us.  

Unplugged.

In this day and age, it's quite uncommon to unplug from social media. If you didn't post it online, it never happened, right? Although my generation is probably the last to grow up without technology tracking our every day moments since birth, I am still just as dependent on it as every other teen tweeting their lunch or frappuccino.  

Living on the other side of the word, I am that much more dependent on social media and my constant connection to the Internet. It keeps me from getting lost while driving, allows me to share my experiences at the tap of a button, and to video chat weekly with my parents. Mom needs to see that I'm not missing any meals. 

This past weekend I was given the opportunity to disconnect, unknowingly, from the world and live in the moment, something very foreign to me.

We were invited to stay in a Karen village that’s trying to bring back its elephant trainers and their elephants. The Karen people are most well known for 1. Converting to Christianity and 2. Being Mahouts: elephant trainers and caretakers. It's normal for these Karen men to leave their villages with their elephants to work in the city; you've got to go where the money is. Many times, these trainers are away from their homes and families for years, only visiting less than a handful of times. This specific village is starting a new program, they invite foreigners into their village to experience the Karen life and elephant care taking up close and personal. The main goal of the program is to bring elephant trainers back home. We were the first group, guinea pigs if you may, to experience village life and this program. 

And. It. Was. Amazing. 

I prepared myself for the worst and it wasn’t at all awful like I had imagined. I know that sounds horrible, but realistically speaking, I would love to say I could survive out in the open wilderness, take whatever life throws at me, but knowing myself they way I do, I fall apart at simple phrases like "no running water" or "no wifi". I mean, hello? Are we cavemen? I think not. So in agreeing to this trip, spending the night in a village possibly sleeping on the floor with no electricity, and using a squat pot (go ahead, Google it) I had to pep talk myself for the unthinkable and be in constant prayer. I had to expect that certain things would be difficult, like brushing my teeth or showering. 

Brushing my teeth from a window.

I don't want to miss out on experiences because they lack accommodations I'm used to. I’d hate to finally move back home and regret no participating in something because I’d be uncomfortable for a night or two. Quite honestly, the trip was an absolutely wonderful experience and I would do it again, and again, and again, JK, I'm not trying to wear myself out now, but I would go a second time.

We learned about this new program through one of our interns. She has a friend who used to be a tour guide for an elephant conservation camp and understands the struggles many of his friends go through working away from home. He asked if we could be the first group of people to try out what they had planned and we all agreed. The day started with him picking us up Sunday, around 1:30 and driving us outside the city of Chiang Mai to the surrounding mountains, about two or so hours away. When we got to the village, we unpacked and learned how to make traditional Karen clothing. 

The entire process of weaving, looping, and looming was very stressful. I broke out into a sweat trying to weave just a few lines of fabric together. I have a newfound appreciation for traditional clothes making. 

Afterwards, we learned to pack rice into banana leaves and tie them up with bamboo strips.

We had the pleasure of sitting in a worship service and then sharing a meal together with the family and friends of a father who has been able to come back home after years of working in the city. I am always, always, always, humbled at how huge God is; that we have the same God we worship in different languages and He understands them all. We may have language barriers that prevent us from communicating effectively with each other, but God understands all of our worries, cries, and praises to him.

There were about 40 people in the open space of his home, about 600 people total in the village. For dinner, we ate rice we wrapped in banana leaves, some sort of chicken in gravy, chicken feet and all, and ground pork in a tomato sauce.

Who needs plates?

Once dinner was over, we walked back to the home we were staying in, showered and got ready for bed. How did I shower, you ask? In a decent sized out-house. Inside there was a large basin of very cold water and a small bowl that you scoop up the water in and then pour on your body. Refreshed, cold, and clean, we all decided to lay out in the yard and watch the stars before bed. It's not often we have the privilege to look up at the sky and see it painted with twinkling lights. Not in my neighborhood, not even back at home, but here in the mountains it was breathtaking watching the sky dance for us and even catching a few shooting stars. To think, the Lord spoke and out of his mouth lit up the dark night sky. Simple moments like these have been taken for granted for far too long.

Going to sleep was another adventure. In the room we were staying, one of the beds had a mosquito net over it. 

I was excited because I've never slept in one before but also fearful that I would wake up with west nile virus or something. Luckily I woke up bug bite free, but unfortunately I also didn't get much sleep. For some reason I kept tossing and turning all night, never really falling into a deep sleep. At one point, right before I was about to doze off, I heard noises like something trying to get up the ladder-esque stairs. Naturally my mind wandered to all the scary movies and stories I'd ever seen and read and thought, "This is it, this is how it ends", with no cell service to call for help, I was quite sure life was over. Then I heard my roommate rustle and asked if it was her making all the noise, she said it was a chicken under the house. That response was good enough for me until the next morning when she mentioned that her worry was what was making the chicken flutter. I’m glad she kept that to herself until morning.  

We started the next day surprisingly with French toast, eggs, bananas, and real honey with a bee inside it.

I wasn't bummed at all, but I did prepare myself for last night’s leftovers for breakfast. The Thai's consider our breakfast foods like French toast, pancakes, and waffles as dessert. A typical breakfast meal for them is rice, egg, a vegetable, and hotdog or ground up meat, same things they would eat for lunch and dinner. I can't say I disagree with them. Being in the classroom, back at home, after my students had eaten French toast soaked in syrup always led to disaster. 

We ate, chatted about our night (who snored, who didn’t), and then got ready for our day with elephants! This experience allows its customers quality time with elephants. We learned to find them in the rainforest, bring them back to their field, check to see if they're healthy (poo and all), fed them bananas and sugar cane, rode them through the village to the water hole, and then bathed them. 

Our elephant's name was Mae-kah-paw.

She is a gigantic 34 year old creature. I learned to climb up her truck onto her back. We rode her about 40 minutes into the village, through the forest, and to the water hole. At the halfway point, we got off to stretch our legs. When I tried to get back on, I felt stuck; I was trying with all my might to pull myself up. Megan was already on and she was trying to help me but I couldn't move. I couldn't stop laughing and I heard all the trainers and our guide cracking up. He kept telling me to stop laughing, in between his laughs. Turns out, our tour guide was holding onto my pants which was the reason why I couldn't get up the elephant. They were laughing at me because I had no idea he was the reason I was hanging on the elephants head. Those Thai’s and their jokes...

We got to the water hole and they had the most beautiful lunch spread out on banana leaves for us!

Sticky rice, fruit, and chicken  were laid out before us, we almost didn't want to touch it because it looked so pretty. Even the elephants tried to grab a bite! After lunch, we walked the elephants to the water hole and started bathing them. I tried very hard to keep my head above water (I don’t like to get wet) but unfortunately, my elephant sprayed water and mud all over me. Our guide took pictures of us all afternoon and hopefully he will send us some great action shots of us on the elephants. There's one where I am laying on the elephants trunk above the water, reluctantly, because I know what's about to happen next, she's going to drop me head first in the muddy water she just pooped in. And she did. 

We rode our elephants back and fed them some herb balls made of different seeds and bananas we mashed together using a foot pedal hammer. To end our experience, we reviewed all the things we learned about our elephants, like how elephants only sleep four to five hours a night, in 40 minute intervals, how they use their trunks to determine if the path they are on is safe, and how female elephants call the shots in a herd (that’s what’s up). We rinsed off, packed our bags, and headed home, after a most exciting 28 hours. Close to home, cell phone reception was restored and we were once again connected to the world at a click of a button. Out of the mountains and hill tribes and back on the asphalt roads that lead to my definition of civilization, we were no longer back in time, living in a village with limited electricity and elephants roaming the dirt roads. It blew my mind how communities like this village are completely functional, on the mountain sides hours away from the nearest gas station. I totally get that life has evolved from wagons and horses to cars, outhouses to indoor bathrooms, candle light to electricity, but to see that many people still live like they’re in the 1800’s is quite fascinating (don’t get me wrong, some homes had satellite dishes and people walked around talking on their cell phones, they aren’t living in the stone age, but they aren’t driving to the grocery store to get their dinner either). My appreciation for how far civilization has developed is baffled by the happiness of the Karen people who live life just as easily without all the conveniences I have at my disposal. This was a wonderful experience and it’s important to be reminded of just how much we have and how much we don’t need to be happy.

But, of course our day wasn’t over when we were dropped off home from our trip. My roommate and I managed to lock ourselves out of the house and I had to climb through the bathroom window that is probably seven feet high, to get inside the house. From now on, I will always keep my house key on me when we leave the house.