Why do you want to volunteer?

I have always been asked the question, “Why do you want to volunteer?” My answer has always been the same. Strangers continued to be curious, “You don’t get pay. So what do you get out of it?”

From my first service experience with the Cambodian Association of America (CAA) in Long Beach, California to my international community development with the Peace Corps in Costa Rica, my humanitarian practice with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and today back to domestic service with the International Rescue Committee (IRC), I honestly realized that I am committed to volunteer service and I love it. Through these last ten years or so of volunteering experiences, I have gained new skills, knowledge, friendships, and patience. I honestly value the meaning of service and my life forever has changed.

Last Tuesday I attended the IRC workshop on “Refugee 101.” It was important information on the process of refugee status in the United States (U.S). The workshop was designed to help volunteers understand more about refugees’ experiences before arriving in the San Diego areas. Although I understood most of the information in regards to refugee status due to my personal experience as a former child refugee, things have changed in the last 20 years since I resettled in the U.S. Improved projects have been established to cater new refugee arrivals. New challenges are faced by former refugees’ communities due to policies changed, after the 9/11, which impacted their lives in the U.S.

I had the opportunity to meet the executive director of the IRC office in San Diego, Bob Montgomery, who later gave a presentation on the process of refugee status in the U.S. He has worked with the IRC for over 30 years since 1976 with the first flow of refugees to San Diego from Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. Today, refugees from countries such as Somalia, Iraq and Myanmar are new additions to the San Diegan residents.

The highlights of the workshop for me, besides meeting the IRC staff and obtaining information on refugee status, were meeting other volunteers. It was so rich and delightful to learn about their volunteer experiences. Exchanging and sharing my volunteer experience has helped me understand why they decided to volunteer and the impact they have had made on refugees’ lives in San Diego. It makes me so happy to see and hear that others like myself are volunteering for the same reasons.

One of the volunteers asked me, “So what made you want to volunteer with the IRC?” Of course, I ended up giving them long answers. However, I tried to keep it short. I told that person, along with other interested volunteers, “I want to give back. I feel that I owe it to my family, myself, and many people who had made an impact on my life growing up. I am so blessed to be in a position to give back.”

I do hope this holiday you join me with other volunteers through giving back in your local community. It could be something as simple as just an hour a week with a non-profit or an organization (i.e. homeless shelter, youth program, or food drive) that you would love to give your skills into use and make a difference. Throughout my volunteering experience, I discovered that you do not have to be rich or have money to give back. I honestly have been volunteering for more than ten years now and have not earned an income yet, but I have a lot of time on my plate. This is my way of giving back and to spend time with those who truly need my help.

In the end, it is a great feeling for me knowing that I can make a difference in someone else’s life. If anything, I have learned a new culture and gained new friends in my new community!

First YouTube video: My Passion- Advocacy for Refugees

I uploaded my first YouTube video ever about a month ago. To be honest, I do not think I would have done it, if it were not for a contest that I had entered. I entered a video on the subject matter: “What is your passion?” for the Voice of America (VOA) Khmer YouTube.

Here is a link to their webpage if you are interested in obtaining more detailed information: http://www.voanews.com/khmer-english/about-us/.

Let me tell you. The process of creating a YouTube account was so quick and easy! It was like eating with a spoon! In less than two minutes, I created my account and uploaded my very first video! Now it is broadcast to millions of viewers like yourself. So check it out if you have not yet!

Below is my first ever YouTube video on my passion. My passion is advocacy for refugees: in combat, in conflict zone areas, and through the resettlement and repatriation process.

Link to the YouTube:

Today, I received an email indicating that someone subscribed to my YouTube! My first subscriber! I just checked the video again and 107 people have viewed it in three weeks! I am very excited for this great discovery of technology. Now, I have to upload more videos!!

Green para Gringa: Peace Corps Volunteer in Costa Rica (2005-2007)

I wanted to share with you an article I wrote & published in the Peace Corps Costa Rica newspaper about my experience as a minority volunteer in Costa Rica (November 2006 issue).


I had my interview with the Peace Corps recruiter in San Francisco, California. Many questions were asked and answered. One question stays with me to this day, "Most people think Americans have blond hair and blue eyes, what are yours plans to challenge this stereotype?" She told me a story about an African American volunteer who was in her group during her Peace Corps service. The volunteer had a hard time dealing with the racist remarks in her community and ended up leaving. With clarity, I tired my best to answer the question. "I would like to educate the people in my community that America is full of people from all over the world. That most of us started out as immigrants or are immigrants, like me. I would share with them my background and culture in America and what is like to be a Cambodian American." That was a year and six months ago. It was easy to say, but not so easy to do.

Ten months ago I settled into Las Delicias de Turrubares. Las Delicias is a remote town that runs off a dusty, red, dirt road in the mountains above Jaco. There are 174 adults, children and youth in my pueblito. My counterpart told me that I'm the first Peace Corps Volunteer that has ever been put in this town!


The first week, I walked around in my site and said "hola" to every person I encountered. I remember a 'super volunteer' advised me to do this during training. Although they gave me dirty looks and once threw pebbles in my direction, I continued my greeting pilgrimage.



I encountered racism from many people in town. The majority of the people called me a nica. I was not aware of this word. So I asked my host mom, "¿que significa nica?" "A nica is someone from Nicaragua. They are poor and very lazy. Por que?" she asked. I told her that people called me "nica" as I passed by. She said people think I'm a nica because I have dark skin. If anything, I look nica or indigenous. I don't look like an 'American'. She stressed that being called a nica is usually bad. I started an art class with the children. They asked where I'm from. I told them California. They laughed and said, "No really where are you from?" So I explained to them "I was born in Thailand, my father is from South Vietnam and my mother is from Cambodia, but I am an American citizen and have lived almost my entire life there." The explanations were going nowhere; thanks to my dark skin and small eyes I was nica china. It was difficult the first few months. It was hard enough I was still learning to speak Spanish but I look like a "nica" whom people in town look down on.


I started to educate my host mom about my culture. Among other things, I showed her how I cook rice and my favorite dishes that I learned from my parents. I told her in my family we eat rice everyday, three times a day. We cook rice with no oil or butter. We just cook it with rice and water. After the initial horror and comedy of the idea of cooking rice without oil dyed down, she told me that she wanted to lose weight. I recommend that she start with the rice. Now my host mom has lost 20 pounds! Other women in town are trying this too! One day I made one of my favorite Cambodian dishes, fish soup with vegetables. My host mom loved it and gave it to her family in town. Next thing you know it was "soup of the day" at the soda!!


Six months later children started to ask me how is California. I shared with them my life in California. People started to come around. They finally believed that I have lived in California; however I am still not an American.

A couple of months ago, I went down the hill where the poor Nicaraguan live. I went to socialize with some of the students from my English class. I shared with them that I was a "war baby." I was born and lived until I was 8 years old in a refugee camp in Thailand. They opened up to me and shared their struggles during the war in Nicaragua. That day, we realized that we have a lot in common. Now, I pass often on my bike, I once over heard them telling their friends and family who were visiting. "That's Yenly; she was born in Thailand, but lived most of her life in California. Her father is from Vietnam and her mother is from Cambodia, no not Puntarenas, Asia." I smiled with joy because I am very proud of my background.



In my English class racism does not exist. It is like we are in our own little world of peace! We have Nicaraguans, Costa Ricans and me, a Cambodian American. We laugh, learn and support each other. A couple of weeks ago, we played "Uno." I wanted them to practice their colors and numbers. One of the Costa Rican students had to either put down the color green or the number 5. He put down a green and said, "Vea, green para gringa, como Yenly." Everyone laughed and agreed that "green is for gringa, like me!" Does this mean they finally accept that I'm American?? Well it took 10 months for people in town to open my book and see that my brown skin might not make me the stereotypical American, but I really am an American.

I found out that the more you open up and share your background with people in your town, the more they can understand and accept you. So hang in there and have fun! I want to welcome new minority volunteers, to the challenges of Peace Corps Costa Rica!

San Diego MTS; How to get around in the city without a car or money...

I was at first disappointed that I had to take the bus and later the trolley to my volunteering interview position with the International Rescue Committee (IRC) especially on my birthday. I hadn’t heard great things about San Diego’s transportation, especially not like DC or NYC. Since I am a new resident to San Diego and my husband had to take our car to work today, I decided to make the best out of my adventure!

After taking the bus for 45 minutes from downtown Ocean Beach (OB) to Old Town San Diego, another half an hour or so on a trolley from Old Town to SDSU station, then finish with a good 15 minutes bus ride into City Heights, I learned the importance of a transportation system for the people. A good system is truly needed by the residents of a city!

I noticed most of the people who were taking the bus and the trolley, were dressed in work clothes. I talked to a lady from Thailand who had lived in San Diego for two years now. Although her English was a little rough, I enjoyed learning about her story of how she got to San Diego. She was telling me that she was on her way to work at one of the Thai restaurants in Point Loma area. She loves living in San Diego. It is way better than her home country she said with excitement.

I also talked to another San Diegan who grew up most of his entire life in the Ocean Beach OB) area. He was on his way to work in City Heights as a construction worker. I came to realize how much admiration I had for these people. Although the OB twenty- something guy looked and dressed up in a dirty bum clothes, I am glad I had the chance to talk to him. Once I heard his story and how many jobs he was going to work today, it really made me grateful and made me appreciate the time I had to be able to just listen and talk with a stranger. These are the people I don’t hear much about in the news or in a politically heated debate either. I think the reason they are not, is because they’re always working, some two or even three jobs. Despite how many jobs they work in a day, they still make enough to take the public transportation and to provide for their family.

My experience today, has made me truly appreciate having a car. Sometimes we take it for granted. However, it also makes you appreciate the fact that there is some kind of public transportation offered to the local community in case there is no access to a car, bike or some kind of motorcycle.

Now, I am actually planning to take the city transportation maybe once a week to go up to SDSU to work on my thesis writing. It is nice I don’t have to worry about driving or stuck in traffic. When you are in traffic, you don’t have to worry about the stress or someone cutting you off on the road. Someone else is driving, so I can just carry a good conversation with the person next to me or listen to my ipod or have something to read.

I absolutely love the trolley! It is amazing. Its quick, easy to use & doesn’t cost that much!

Although my trip took me almost three hours, I don’t mind taking the bus and the trolley again next time when I am car-less. It got me to my appointment on time, I was able to go sight-seeing in San Diego and I didn’t have to drive in the traffic! It is only $5 for a day pass, which includes both the bus and trolley!

I Married My Best Friend and Soulmate!

My best friend and soulmate!







"I am very proud of you and everything that you have accomplished. I am also proud of us for loving and respecting each other throughout our relationship and for building this life thus far together."

I married my dream soul mate, who accepted me for who I am:

Eric encourages me to be who I am. No matter what challenges or obstacles I face, Eric makes sure to support me by being there by my side or as a cheerleader from a distance. Whatever journey I have taken or will take, either digging deep in discovering my roots or excelling in my writing ability, he makes sure I accomplish them with support and patience. One thing I truly appreciate about my husband is that he is and will be there to remind me of how hard I have worked and how much I have overcome on my long journey, from living in refugee camps in Thailand as a young child to working on my Masters degree in America. He makes sure to also celebrate these accomplishments with me. Through good and bad times, I know I can always count on my husband because he has shown this many times and in various ways.

Sunday marks our 3 months anniversary. We were married on June 19 of this year in Santa Barbara, CA.

My husband and I met in Costa Rica while volunteering for the Peace Corps, July 13, 2005. Although we have different memories of how we met, the date is the same. This was five years ago.


Besides the fact Eric has; blue eyes, blond hair and a surfer build body, which attracted me at first, he has so much love, compassion and kindness to offer as well. When I first fell in love with Eric, it was not his looks but who he is as a person. I remember this day very well because every time I flash back, it brings tears to my cheeks.

Eric and I were sitting on the floor of a somewhat run down hotel in San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica. (I think this is when he realized I have so much love for “rice.”) I was craving jasmine rice and had been homesick for a while. So we went everywhere in the capital to find rice. When we did find it, it was $4 for a small bowl of rice. This was expensive especially for a Tico income, making a $1 per day. But we bought it anyway, and Eric said, “Anything for honey.” Then we went to the American KFC (yes, they have it everywhere in Costa Rica) and got some chicken to eat with the rice. When we returned to our hotel, we realized there were no spoons or folks to eat with. It was late and we were unsure where to get. Then my childhood experiences came into play.

When I was growing up in the refugee camp, I did not have silverware, only two hands to feed myself with. That is all I knew and lived with for the first 8 years of my life. I guess to the western perspectives it was uncivilized, but it works!
While we were setting on the floor of a rundown hotel in a developing country, I opened up the bowl of rice and KFC chicken. One hand dug into the rice bowl and the other held a piece of chicken thigh. As I placed the rice into my mouth with my hand and fingers in it, Eric just smiled at me. Then I stopped eating and I was so embarrassed. It was very uncivilized I thought. In a way, I was embarrassed about who I was. Instead of thinking I was weird and uncivilized; Eric joined me and ate with his hand also! I started to cry. He asked why I was crying. I told Eric that I appreciated him for not judging me and accepting me for who I am. That night, I taught Eric how to eat rice with his hand. Most importantly, he accepted me for me, the whole package. Yes, I fell in love with Eric. That was when I found out I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this man! I couldn’t see my life without him being in it!

You see, Eric and I come from many level of different backgrounds. As a bi-racial couple, at times is not easy for society or for us. We come from different economic standpoints and we were raised differently. As far as personality goes, Eric is very calm and mellow. I am the opposite with a lot of energy and very focused! Put both of us together, we make a great team (Eric & Yenly)!

My husband teaches me how to be patient and that sometimes it is ok to put myself first before others. He also reminds me to understand a person’s point of view or situation first before jumping to conclusions. I think having patience and understanding are very important skills in order to excel. I encourage Eric to be more open with his emotions and feelings. Seriously, I cannot read his mind! I also think I share with him my ability to adapt to any situations or environments we may face. Sometimes, these differences don’t seem that bad after all. If anything, we complement each other!

Despite these differences, our love and common interests keep us growing together. Such as that both sets of parents have been married for over 27 years! We share similar practices of religion and perspectives on life. We both are well educated. We love the beach and the ocean. We enjoy helping people and making a difference in their lives. We enjoy each others company. Most importantly our common love, understanding and respect for each other are the strength to our friendship, marriage and as a bi-racial couple.

Each day, I look forward to waking up next to my amazing handsome husband. I look forward to growing as a couple, as well as who we are as individuals and who we will become. I look forward to sharing and building new memories together on this great adventure of married life!

A Massage from the Heart

This might be my last day typing under the coconuts and bananas’ leaves. This morning the winds seem a little shy that it hasn’t come out to play. The couple of days have been very hot, I think in the 30 c. I have been having a hard time breathing lately. It could be the heat. The leaves are still in the position they were met to. Everything is so green with little light shining between the branches. The dirt is cover with dry brown death leaves that have fallen from it trees since who know when. I am sure it will decompose back to the ground and the tree.


Nature seems to have it way in the ecosystem. The dogs, cats and chicken are under the shade and some places that are cool. I notice mother hen is digging through the dirt with her feet so she can relax with the cool dirt and her little chicken too.


There is no electricity since this morning around 5:00am.I woke up to a strange dream, I don’t think it was a nightmare but it was so kind of a warning. I dreamt that a friendly ghost came to warn me about when the evil ghost is coming to haunt me. It warns me between midnight and 5:00am in the morning. I told the friendly ghost to let the evil ghost to not haunt me yet I was enjoying my sleep. As I finish telling the friendly ghost this, the evil ghost started to haunt me. The friendly ghost told me to move my feet and body so I could wake up, then it won’t haunt me. So I woke up and the fan was out. I don’t think it was out to long before I was awake the air was still cooling.


I am not sure what my dreamt was all about and not sure if I believe in ghost but as a child I had nightmares about ghost haunting me regularly. It seems logic to think that it is warning me about life in general about people who I can trust and not to trust. Other than that I cannot interpret the dream. People here seem to be into dream that it has meaning and is trying to tell us about our current life. Sometime I chose to believe other than that I try not to. However, I see myself of believing about dream interpret about the present life. Often happen to me where I dreamt about something and next thing you know it came true. So I will take this is a message to be careful in the next few days or so. It strange that I haven’t dreamt in weeks especially since I been here until this morning.


The light is still out. Aunt-in-law told me that it will be out for the rest of the day. No watching T.V shows today. I told her more time for me to read and do my homework. Since I been here I watch shows with grandma. Not because I enjoy watching drama novella as they have in Costa Rica, is because I just wanted to send time with grandma. Whatever she is doing, I want to be there in every moment of it. I am not sure when I will see grandmother again. We have missed so many of years growing up; celebration, birthdays, New Years and weddings. I value and try to capture every pieces of each moment. I try to take pictures but that doesn’t fully complete the value of sending time with grandmother. I am going to miss this place. Is so peaceful and the value of family and friends is a lot to learn from.

Even though the electricity is out, my aunt-in-law still managed to cook food. She doesn’t cook with electricity but with wood in the moveable stove. It is good in a time like this. In the state where everyone depends on the electricity.


I am going to miss my evening runs with my little cousins especially the 15 years old who been with me every day. I am going to miss my aunt-in-law taking me to the internet café and waited there for me until I’m finish with email and sending messages. I am going to miss the late night fruits drinks with her as well after the internet café. I am going to miss grandmother’s energy, love, wisdom and kind heart. I am going to miss the rich soil and green tropical that this civilization appreciates each day.


I am going to miss the wooden bed underneath the mosquitoes net. I am going to miss my little cousins playing their close to nothing rocks. I am going to miss everyone and everything in this glory land of wonderful happy people and rich fresh fruits to eat from everyday.

The Simple Life

Tuesday, February 16

I am surrounding with cheerful children (6 to 15 years old) on each side watching the screen of what I am typing. My 6 years old cousin watches my fingers as I quickly typing away. To them is magic that I am able to type so quick on this funny looking like TV but it is very small and you can carry it with you. My 10 years old cousin don’t know what laptop is but she know is for school. She said, “Is like all of my homework can fit in this small thing.” All eyes on it as the blinking on the white screen stop where I last type.

Children here don’t wear their sandal. I didn’t say shoes because most people here can’t afford one. The children let their feet free and seem to enjoy the feeling of dirt under their feet. I am not sure if the reason is that they are too poor to afford one but I think they are just being normal children playing in the dirt, “When I am playing and running in front of grandma house, I don’t like wearing my sandal, I like that it is cold feeling” said my 6 years old cousin.

It is 5:00pm the sun is hiding behind the banana and leeches trees. We are waiting until it is cool so we can go for a run to my great uncle house which is about half a km. They have on their sandal now as I am asking how far my great uncle house is so they could go with me. The youngest cousin who like to have her feet free just got her sandal and setting on my right side staring at the computer screen as I am typing. She just asked, “When is the computer stop working?” I told her when I am done, it will stop working.

I asked them what they like to play or do for fun. The little one told me she likes to play with rocks. They just brought their rocks over and demonstrating it to me. The 7 years old just throw one rock up while trying to catch the other one on the floor with one hand. The other rock is up in the air. She seems to enjoy it. Her other two cousins watch carefully to make sure she doesn’t make any mistakes or cheated. Another thing they like to play is jumping on robber ban. I asked that I haven’t seen them playing with it. They told me it is at home.

Yesterday we went for a jogged and some of them don’t have sandals on. They ran on rocks and dirt. One of them asked if my Nike shoes hurt me and if so that I can just run without it. How cute and innocent these children are with such curious questions about the different worlds were from.

The T.V my grandmother has only come with three channels. I think two of them are the same channel. I think not having too many channel helps me to have time to do other stuff just like my grandmother and aunts has all day. This morning I asked to watch Khmer shows. They said it only show after 11am to 2:00pm and again from 6:00pm to 10pm. Although the Vietnamese government control what is on the television, it is great that they allow ethnic Khmer to have their own shows. The station in South Vietnam, therefore, the show is produce by Khmer Krom people like my grandmother and the rest of the relatives here.

Children recycle cans, plastics and leaves anything that they can play with. They are very poor children but the littlest thing in life makes them so happy. For flying or making a kite, they use dry coconut leave and tired it with a stick so they could fly it. Even though it didn’t end up flying, the process of finding the dry coconuts and putting it together with their friends was enough to stratify them. Their parents can’t afford to buy them one. I think is great that these kids are using their imagination and being outdoors instead of inside watching TV and playing games all day. Mentally and physically is healthy for their growth development.

People here are so poor those outsiders give them books, notebooks and bikes for their children to go to school. These people are my relatives. I am embarrassed that I can’t help them at the moment. This only makes me want to work even harder so I can financially help them at least with education.

Child Refugees; A Success Story:

Saturday: January 30th, 2010


If you were to ask me how life was like growing up in a refugee camp, I wouldn’t be able to explain it in one sentence to truly get the real meaning of it or have you understand that a childhood was taken away. To be honest, I couldn’t even express it in a way that allows you to truly understand what life was like, unless you were there. Besides, I was too naive and innocent to understand what a refugee camp was or violence meant back in those days.

Today, I met with two former child refugees through my tutor. They are in their last year of undergraduate. On this Saturday morning, they planned to go to the library after the interviews to study. I can see how hard they have work to get where they are today. Although I asked most of the similar questions from the previous interviews, this one was more informal.

It was not easy to break the ice of silent to talk about what was like growing up in a refugee camp with former child refugees. Once, I added my experience here and there between questions, little by little, they started to be more at ease with me. I found out that all three of us have lived in Site II camp along the Thai-Cambodian border. Since we were too young to remember how we looked than with especially moving around from camp to camp in different times, we don’t know if we have met before today. However, we remember the structure of the camp and situation in the camp.

The first young lady shared with me what she remembers of her childhood in the camp. “Do you remember with all those bombing and houses burning down? I remember it very well that I still have nightmares from it." We started to exchange stories of what we remember good and bad all came out.

I told them a time when I respond to one of my soccer coaches’ questions of why I was so fast on the field. “You played soccer?” They were amazed and curious that girls play sports. “I told my coach that I am used to running and I eat a lot of rice is why I am so fast.” We all laughed as if the funniest thing we ever heard. One of them added, “We are used to running from usual bombings, shootings and even land mines. So we gotta be fast in order to survive.” We understood each other. We can all added similar experiences or finish each other sentences from the story. I felt a strong connection of new friendship being bond and form with these girls through their experiences.

We laugh through the stories that we shared. We cried but with tears of joy. Although most people would agree that growing up in a violence situation is not safe or high-quality for a child development, to us, it was the most memorable years of our lives. Ironically, at times seem so peaceful in the camp. However, we couldn’t explain of why many years of nightmares continue to haunt us from the camp. The three of us was born and grew up in the camp until we were 6 to 8 years old. At those ages, we didn’t worry much about life. We were happy to get some food in our stomach and free to run around. It doesn’t matter if the field is the size of a football field or 6 metros of land to run around, we just wanted to play just like any child would.

Of course if you asked our parents, the story is different. They remember everything especially those bad experiences. Now as well-educated college students, we looked at the situation differently, at most is close to our parents’ perspectives. We couldn’t believe that we lived through all those frequently fighting, bombing, shooting and screaming at nights. We lived in a place where almost all violation of human right existed. The society refugees created were socially constructed to behavior towards violence and accepted as part of our daily routines.

My two new friends are planning to graduate from college this June as I am as well obtaining my Master degree. Not too many former refugees who were born and spent most of their childhood in a camp end up with a success story. I am very pleased with these two young ladies choices in life. No one could take away our experiences and memories of those years. We will always look back and thank god that we have made it this far and continue to live life as if is our last day because that what we learned in the camp.

Returnees said, “You are very LUCKY”

Sunday: January 24, 2010



Before I arrived to Cambodia four months ago, the word ‘luck’ to me was winning a lottery or that you did well on an exam for not studying. After today, ‘luck’ has reform to a new meaning, shape, color and perspective of life. Through the eyes of former refugees who returned to their homeland in Cambodia from Thai-Cambodian border about twenty years ago have taught me the new meaning of ‘luck.’ Now, ‘luck’ to me, mean freedom, the opportunity to education and access to health care. So they said, “You are very lucky.”

Have you ever had one of those days that you didn’t want to do anything due to lack of sleep the night before? Worrying keep you up all night? Today was that day for me. I didn’t want to go on this particular Sunday morning to do interview and especially on a two hours motorcycle drive. Today, I was sad and wanted some time alone. Besides, my friend said two out of three of his friends might not be available to do interviews. Because I planned this trip to the village about three months ago and my friend was willing to take me to his hometown, I was motivated enough to go.



Although my friend told me that it was going to take about two hours on a motorcycle, I didn’t realize how a long drive a two hour was until then. Most of the way to and back was very uncomfortable. My bottom and legs were numb and was in pain. However, I bear with it and distract the non sensation feelings by observing the surrounding.

I noticed all the houses look alike. On every street we turned the traditional home wood-frame, which is similar to traditional Southeast Asian houses from Burma to the Philippines. Most of the houses have few cows in front or underneath along with rice grain drying. They must have just heaviest rice nearby or behind their backyard. The houses are most often built few feet above the ground level, supported by heavy wooden posts or concrete pillars. The kitchen is sometimes a lean to attached to the main house down stairs know as pteach biay. Cooking is done with a transportable charcoal stove that can be placed on the porch or under the house depending on the weather. The bathroom, if they are lucky to have one, separate from the outbuilding. Sometime it is combining with the kitchen. My friends’ mom house does not have a restroom or toilet. Therefore, I had to use the neighbor.



My friend pointed out to his high school as we passed by. I thought, “Oh great we’re almost there.” The roads were endless. It just kept going and every turns seemed to be the same. I thought we were in a puzzle maze and were trying to get to his village.

When we arrived 6km later from his high school, my friend’s mother was expecting us setting underneath the house. I gave her bag of goodies includes; pencil, noodles and notebooks. She cut up some coconuts and fruits for me to drink and eat. Right away I wanted to get started with the interview. My friend told me to relax and rest for a bit before I get started. I should wait until after lunch. Meanwhile, my friend’s older brother was preparing us traditional farmer meal for lunch. We left around 8:00am from Phnom Penh this morning and did not arrive to Takeo until 10:00am. I was a little hungry but more than anything I was relief to relax my legs and bottom.


Right when we finish eating lunch, my friend and few of his childhood friends were gathering and discussing about something. I was curious of why they were in a private circle meeting and making calls on their cells. Next thing you know one by one people were showing up to his house. He came back with a big smile and said, “We found you some returnees to interview.” I was delighted! First it was just three or four people shows up. But it didn’t stop there; they just kept coming one by one.



When I finish my first interview around 1pm, there was a line of people waiting to be interview! They were mostly women with small children. They seemed to be in their late 30s and mid 50s. I started out thinking that I was going to get at least two or three interviews, instead I felt like a liprechaun who just found a pot of gold! Some even rode their bikes from miles far into the rural area of the village! I guess the news spread pretty fast when people have access to cell phones. Also my friend had mentioned that I will be coming today few days ago to do some interviews. Although only three respond to his requested, I was very pleased with the results. It was such an honor to be in their present, learned about their experiences and how they contributed to my research, words couldn’t describe how thankful I am.

Since I was up stair of the wood-frame house to have some privacy, I didn’t know how short the line was or who I’m suppose to interview next. When I finished with one interview, they would tell the next person to come and see me. When 5:30pm came around, I thought I was finish. I was so tired and my throat was starting to get sore. I still had at least six to eight left to interviews. One lady actually wanted me to interview her badly. She wanted me to take picture of her little bamboo house as well. She wanted her experience and voice to make a difference and be included. So I interview her along with two other ladies as my last interviewees.



Before I started my interview with the three ladies, one of them express honestly and sincerely, “It has been 20 years now since we had any contact with local NGOs, government officials, foreigners or anyone besides the regular people who lived here and their relatives. You don’t know how happy I am to have you here. Within these last 20 years, no one has ever came to do a follow up or asked to see how we are doing. No... one. But today, you give us all hope. This makes me extremely happy. Thank you for caring about us, those who left behind like a wild cow. We don’t even have to go to you to meet you in the city. You come to our village and see how we live. It shows that you really care about us. Because of this, I want to help you and current refugees.”

Although I thought I did a great job of not sharing a drop of tears from hearing such courage and sacrifice stories, a moment like this deserves some. I told them that I’m not from any NGOs or organizations. I’m just a graduate student who cares and concerns about refugees issues especially children and women. They told me that it didn’t matter. They have hope in me and that is all matter to them. Through sharing their stories and experiences, they hope to help others that in situation like they were. They want me to tell the truth of everything and how their lives have been since they returned.



I was sad to hear from them from all these years they felt betrayed and worthless because no one took the time to care for their concerns and needs. This perspective of group will most likely to give me more honest answers because they haven’t been explore to interview before. I think they were so excited that someone actually cares enough to interview them and ask for their input.

Most of my interviewees today were mostly women who are widow due to husband left them, death, or disabilities lead them to take over as the head of the house hold. The sun was setting and the moon was rising, my brain couldn’t function but my emotions started to creep on me. I told myself not to cry but to be professional and strong. I was doing a great job of not showing my emotions and didn’t end up crying...well not until I interview these strong three ladies.

Sockheata is in her early 50s like most of the people I interview tonight. She has seven children. Her husband passed away few months after returning to her homeland due to an illness that needed urgent medical care. She had no choice but to sale the land that was given to her and her family as one of the choices upon the return. She used the money to buy medication and hospital visited. When he left her with seven children all alone, with no land or a house, she was hopeless and life was very difficult for her. Since her husband death, Sockheata does labor work and farm for other people. Just to make enough to get by. Sometime, life is so hard that her and seven children goes days without food. As she open up to me, her voice cracks and tears pouring down her cheeks. I couldn’t help it but feel her pain and share some tears too while the other two ladies as well. They told me of all the people in the village, Sockheat suffer the most and the town try to help her out every now and then.


My next interviewee, Sanie is in her late 30s but seems to me in her late 60s. Her skin and face are so tiresome and dry from hard filed labor work outside harvesting rice for many years. Her teeth are almost gone. Her eyes are half blind. She just got back from a clinic which provided her eyes drops that cost $4 per small bottle. If she lucky this year she would make $1 per day. Since she already used the money she earns last month, she had to borrow some money for future works from the people she works for in order to buy some medication. Sanie like Sockheata, her husband passed away from old wound since living the camp but was not properly heal. She and her three children sell vender food in the village. She is sad that her children could not go to school because she doesn’t have the money to send them so school. She is trying to have some food on the table. Although she dreams of a better future for her children especially the younger one, at times that seem unrealistic.

I noticed most of my interviewees tonight has husband whom passed away upon returned due to old wound from either land mind or bullets. I wonder how badly their health condition were? There were no health service to assisted them at least until they were fully heal.

Back to my interview, Nen’s husband left her for a younger woman with six children on her own about 10 years ago. Life was too hard for him since returning to Cambodia with no jobs and opportunities that he left his suffering and painful life with his wife for something new and exciting. Nen have three children. Lucky for her, she stressed, “My eldest daughter works in a factor in Phnom Penh. She has her own family now but when she does make some extra money she sent it to us.” Since her husband left, she has no mean of financial or emotional supports. She depends on her daughter income to supports her illness son and younger daughter who are still living with her.

I was not in shock with their stories and experiences. I actually thought about my mother of how much she gone though. How lucky she is in relations to these women, to have my father by her side especially through the toughest times.

As they were fighting for my attention, they asked if I could share their stories to people. Besides the fact that they wanted to help me find the answers to my research, they wanted to let the world know what they been through and what is best for their children future such as education. If many people read this, maybe something can be change? In hope of course that is all they can do.



Before I end my interviews, I gave them the opportunity to ask me any questions or concerns that they have of me being there. I thought it was fair for them to ask since I just asked them very personal information of their experiences. Since most of them dreamt of living in a third country when they were living in the camps but by forced return to their homeland, they were curious of my life has been growing up in the state as much as I am about their returned to Cambodia. They wanted to meet the one who is very “lucky” too resettled in America.

They end up asking me very common questions. One, they asked me about how was life growing up in America. Two, they wanted to know is it true that America is wealthy and easy. My answers took some thinking into it. I didn’t want them to feel that I am any better than they are. That they have missed out or something. No matter what my answer is, to them, America is a better choice. As a global and international studies student, I try to compare everything from a global perspective.

I shared with them about my experience and the many the Cambodian American who can share similar struggles and pain on a day to day in America. I told them that not everyone is rich in America especially Cambodian. They didn’t understand why that is. So then I told them a situation that could relate to so they could understand what their fellow Cambodians goes through in America. "Imagine you are in America but do not speak English. I was interrupted, “I don’t even know how to read or write in Khmer “said someone. I continued on explaining, “How are you supposed to help your children or yourself in a country where you don’t even know their language or how their cultures are like? So, you become withdrawals from your reality into the Khmer Rouge, Life in the camp and Civil war. Don’t even have time to express with your children these feelings of anger, hate and pain inside all these years. Your children don’t understand you. Your new society doesn’t accept you. People are discriminated against you and call you lazy. Basically, what most Khmer returnees have been sharing with me about their experiences in Cambodia. Everyone cope with the genocide differently. Some do well and most don’t survive well. The sad part is that it still haunts you.


It took them few minutes of silent before we went on to something else. Cambodian in American are poor and goes through similar experience as we do? I said yes most but different situation and environment. The nightmares are still there. The pain and suffering both do share. Like most people, they don’t like to hear sad stories so they direct questions back at me again. They were curious and impress, “We are very honor to have your present here with us as someone who is well educated and bright. We want to know how, so our children can follow your footsteps.” I told them with hard work, determination, the right opportunity at the right time and network of supports from family, friends and the community. I also shared with them that not all Cambodians end up with a four years or with a full scholarship, even goes on to graduate program or get into college the first place. Some don’t even graduate from high school. Just like it here? So they said, “You are very lucky.”

As I wave goodbye to my new friends, I told them, “Thank you all for making this the best day ever for me hearing your amazing stories and experiences. I appreciate every minutes of it.” They were sorry that they didn’t have anything for me to take home on the road. This is how pleasant and genuine they are and yet they are usually the one get left behind.

Tonight, I left with 18 interviews, more amazing smiley wonderful people to love, crash a wedding and a happy camper!