All good things come to an end, it's just a little bit harder when these things are exceptional. And our Cambodia experience has been nothing short of that.
We spent part of our morning frantically blowing balloons for our farewell party at LRDE, only to find that the approximately 100 children present had beat us to it and filled the place with bigger, better balloons of their own.
The children surrounded us with hugs and calls for attention. At first I thought that Sokham hadn't yet turned up because he didn't come running to me as he usually does, but then I spotted him at the top of one of the bunk beds that are installed at LRDE. Incredibly, his eyes seem to have gotten bigger overnight, but there is a new sadness in them. As much as I wanted to, I didn't go to him immediately because, frankly, I'm leaving tomorrow and I don't think having me fawn all over him would be the right thing to do. Sokham is a street child after all, and he's as feral as they come, and if he wanted space, then I'm going to give it to him.
In the meantime, the DO Cambodia team was treated like royalty and we were sat down to a performance of elaborate traditional Khmer dances in stunning Cambodian costumes by the children we have grown to care so much about - including the inimitable SreyPeap whose education is sponsored by Gaby and myself.
At the end of the dances. Mr Chhiv, director of this incredible soup kitchen for street children, gave a short but meaningful speech to thank DO Cambodia for our work here and hoped that we would be coming back again soon.
As the NGO president, I reciprocated, and thanked the children for receiving us so well, and for participating with so much enthusiasm in all segments of our lessons.
"Trao tao rienn" I said, (meaning "go to school") which I must have got right because it was met with sombre nods and assurances. I also promised that we will be back again. A promise I fully intend to keep.
When I returned to my seat, Sokham was sitting in it, but he wasn't smiling, he was instead pointing to a large 4cm burn on his leg. The fact that the blister was on the outside of his calf tells me that he wasn't on a bike but rather, he was walking in heavy traffic. My heart sank. Why was this boy alone?
He allowed me to put some antiseptic cream on the 2nd degree burn and a light gauze to keep it clean. It was clearly very painful, but he is a brave little boy and he fully understands that I want to help him. Once the burn was dressed, he was back to a version of himself again and the hugging and general horsing around between us resumed as usual. He also took to playfully pretending to want to tell me a secret, only to reward me with a great big wet kiss whenever I got close enough.
I am going to miss this boys more than I can express in a blog entry. Whatever his story is, life clearly dealt him a very rotten card. The way he has bonded with me is unusual, so much so that both Mr Chhiv and Sreymom have remarked on it. This is a boy who never smiled and kept himself in the shadows and peripherals of the group but in just a couple of weeks has transformed into the playful, somewhat mischievous 10-year old that he deserves to be. I am concerned that my return to Malta will see him regressing back into his shell so I had a long chat with the boy together with the incredible Sreymom. We explained that I will be going away but I am NOT abandoning him. Sreymom will be keeping him under her wing and I should be able to Skype with him in a week or two.
Saying goodbye to the children we have grown to know and love was never going to be easy. I just didn't expect it to be this hard.
Our second farewell party was at SFODA. We arrived a little bit earlier than planned and set about decorating the place with balloons and a large banner the children had painted during their arts and crafts segment.
What happened afterwards is a little surreal because it was so far out of the realm of our expectations as teachers of developmental drama: basically, we were invited to sit down, and by invited I mean forced, while the older children, of their own accord, performed theatrical snippets - in English! This is a huge achievement and, I have to admit that, I choked more than once to see these Cambodian children put so much effort into letting us know that, hey, you taught us well. I believe they will never forget what we taught them because our classes are enjoyable and the old adage that a lesson learned through fun is never forgotten is my mantra.
Katherine Brown put our achievement into words: Helen O'Grady, as a development programme really works, and it works with different children in different ways. In Malta, we give children the confidence to be independent, making their own decisions and choices within the context of the lesson. In Cambodia, where the children have independence forced upon them at a very young age, it gives them a different kind of confidence. It gives them the confidence to be fun, playful and silly within the context of the lesson. It gives withered imaginations a chance to grow and stifled creativity a place to flourish. They have the confidence to be children.
Goodbyes at SFODA were no easier than they were at LRDE. It's clear that the children are going to miss us nearly as much as we will miss them, but we have invested in a computer lab with a good internet connection which means we will be able to keep in touch in a modern and efficient manner.
If my calculations are correct, it took us an hour from the first goodbye to actually getting into our tuk-tuks and driving off, but we won't be forgetting the sight of 30+ waving children chasing us as we vanished down the dirt road.
This is my last blog from Cambodia for this year. Thank you for following us and believing in our programme. I will again take advantage if your attention to ask, no, plead, with you to contact us at dramaoutreachproject@gmail.com to see how you too can help the street children of Phnom Penh.
Alan Montanaro