I didn't sleep too well last night. Couldn't quite get over the idea of children sleeping on pavements and under bridges while we live in the lap of relative luxury.
This was further compounded when, because I was up at 6am, I did something I promised myself I wouldn't do: read the online comments boards from Malta. Big mistake, cause right now I don't think I can deal with people complaining about petty ċuċati such as the weather, the rising price of potatoes or the dodgy cappuccino at some local cafe'. The truth is that, a couple from weeks from now, and I'll be right there posting with everybody else.
Put into perspective, we really do live in a bubble and have no idea how easy we actually have it and it wouldn't be a waste of our time to step out of our comfort zones sometimes and spare a thought to the hardships and struggles that people less fortunate have to wade through every single day.
The boy with big eyes and now with a big smile to match is very cautiously coming out of his shell as he begins to trust us and the people of LRDE, and today, building on what was achieved yesterday afternoon at the Dreamland Fun Fair, Sophorn and I tried to learn a little bit more about him and where he came from.
Sokham's story so far remains puzzling because it keeps changing as he gets used to the possibility that we're not out to get him. The problem is that everything he says is wrapped in a whole lot of credibility, so my guess is that the real story lies somewhere in-between the different versions. First his parents are dead.
The second time round they're still dead. But by the third time he was asked, in my presence and holding my hand tightly for security, he said he was abandoned - but he couldn't say when.
He apparently went to school till Grade 3 which means he's not illiterate, and this is an important piece of information. He was asked whether he wanted to continue to go to school and this he answered in English with a clear "yes", and I hope to be able to help with that. But before I can, we are going to have to try to bring some order into his life.
I am hoping that his story will come out and soon and that he will be able to maybe live at the SFODA orphanage because it kills me to think of him living under a bridge with somebody else's family. I will never know what it's like to live on the streets as a 10-year old, but it's not a far stretch to imagine that, whether it's a bite to eat or bedding, he gets the last pick after everybody else. I do know that we gave him a new t-shirt last Wednesday to replace the filthy, torn one he was wearing, but it was taken from him sometime during the night, my guess is the mother of the family he stays with would have taken it off his back.
Once the interview with Sokham was over it was time for us to leave LRDE, but he clung to me. Not pathetically or anything like that because he understands that we have other children to visit, but with a lot of affection and, dare I say, gratitude. Watching him chase the tuk-tuk and laughing and waving as we drove off was, however, heart-wrenching.
The end of our stay in Cambodia is approaching…
Mrs Moninarom Ouk
I was ready to send the blog earlier but wanted to go through it for typos before, but in the meantime, something happened that I want to share with readers.
Tonight we went out for a delicious meal at a local Chinese restaurant. Our hosts were Mrs Moninarom Ouk, co-founder and director of the SFODA orphanage and Sothy Prak, her wonderful assistant.
Readers may recall that the children of SFODA were recently evicted and had to move into temporary premises. The goal of Moni, as we affectionately refer to her, is to eventually own their own space which would give them much-needed stability and enable them to invest in better facilities for the children. We discussed ways forward and reiterated our intention to help, possibly collaborating with other NGOs.
The conversation turned towards our backgrounds and how Matthew was an economist, and Katherine a teacher, etc. Moni's story, however shocked us more than I can say.
Her entire family was reduced to slavery during the Khmer Rouge reign. Moni, then still in her early teens, however, was picked out because she had a beautiful singing voice and was therefore made to sing for members of the regime. If we understood correctly, she actually met and sang for Pol Pot himself but we can't be sure because at this point this noble, stoic woman broke down in tears.
Sothy, herself a victim of the Khmer Rouge, took over to explain that the aftermath of the war left many children homeless and without parents and this is what inspired Moni and her late husband to found the SFODA orphanage.
It is clear that the scars of the Pol Pot regime are still extremely raw with older Cambodians. As for the suffering of the children, this is the direct result of his cruelty and madness.
Alan Montanaro