Dear readers,
I take this opportunity to write a blog whilst listening to the dulcet tones of my Boo screaming endlessly. He has had some ‘Infant’s Friend’ but we will wait a little while yet before we offer the panadol. I suspect that his little bowel is filled with a noxious and expanding gas which causes him all manner of pain. The poor little thing…..after all, no-one likes to be filled with a noxious gas.
The rest of the team are taking some down time. Miranda is doing one of those puzzle books which never seem to end. She occasionally asks the answers to mysteries man was never meant to know. Things like ‘what yellow condiment is used in Indian food?’ and ‘what is the capital of Cambodia?’ Meanwhile, Miriam is catching up on her Khmer homework. She is most likely writing her 10 sentences using how, when, where and why. Suffice to say, she is at this moment discussing the mind bending intracacies of using the word ‘house’ in a sentence. Whole worlds hang in the balance. James is colouring in parts of his bible a horrible orange colour. Apparently, he likes orange. Personally, I think it is possible to study the bible without such hideous colours as orange and brown.
It seems the Boo has finally fallen unconscious. We had the chloroform release valve set on 15 minutes, so I expect that has ‘kicked in’.
On the bible centre front, our week has been replete with expectation, but not so much activity. We have had the frustrating problem of students booking times to visit and then not showing up. But when they do show up, it is a very draining exercise. Many can speak reasonable English, but scattered amongst them are various levels of scriptural understanding and various levels of English comprehension. It makes for a huge challenge and always leaves us very tired at the end. Most students want to attend 5 days a week, but there is no way we can accommodate that number of classes, even with the two couples. There is nothing more inclined to suck the very life out of you as that half smile that creeps across the face of a student that has absolutely NO idea what you are talking about. In fact, such students also seem to lose any power of comprehension they once had. Once the smile arrives, they don’t even understand ‘do you understand’. You’ve only used the phrase 1000 000 000 times before…but somehow, for some bizarre reason, it no longer makes sense to them.
After a long lesson, I let my defenses down. I ask stupid questions like;
“So, how did you go?”
The student invariably responds with;
“ Ummm…I go by bike?
There is some quiet weeping and a big smile. ‘Choom riep lia’, I say to them as they walk out the door. After all, it’s only the 15th time we’ve taken 15 minutes to explain looking up Genesis 1:1.
The pain is strong in my heart.
I was standing at the front gate with ‘Dike’ only the other morning discussing the many and varied life of the TukTuk driver. It seems that TukTuk drivers spend most of the day sleeping, as fares are often hard to come by. ..The evidence provided by my own eagle eye seems to back up his claim. Dike was also explaining why it was not a good idea to drive a Tuk Tuk on two wheels. I heartily agreed with him. I’m not sure whether he was speaking from experience, but his optional drivers license comforts me, if only a little. Dike was even providing me with a list of reasons that I should choose him as my permanent Tuk Tuk driver. He has a grievance against me, you see. I had made an agreement with him to return to the place where we were dropped off for dinner for the return fare, but it being dark and my eyes being a little dodgy meant that we just took the first Moto who answered ‘yes’ to the question ‘are you Dike’. I mean, how many guys called ‘Dike’ can there be in Phnom Penh? His further grievance concerns his waiting from 8:00am for our party to leave the premises when I distinctly told him 9:30am. He says that ‘I lie him’, but I really don’t lie him. I think maybe he ‘lie’ me.
No…wait. Toby is back again. He’s developing immunity to the Chloroform it seems.
Some panadol and a nursing to sleep does the trick. He appears to be down for the count.
Most of you would have heard of Bananaman? When Eric eats a banana, an amazing transformation takes place…for Eric is Bananaman? Well, whenever a superhero comes into existence, there is always a supervillian who rears his fearsome head. Such a supervillian has arrived on the scene. He is known only as the ‘mozzie avenger’. A twisted and violent criminal who seeks every opportunity to add more mosquitos to his bloody swathe of death. What is his secret identity, you ask?
I ask you, who would have believed that such an innocuous and harmless item as a high voltage, electrified tennis racquet could produce such a horrific change in a man so gentle and loving as our very own James. The sound of one thousand tiny electric deaths reverberates in the house. At any time of day and night, the twisted and snarling face of this fiend can be seen stalking his prey, like the great white hunter. His satisfied snigger the only epitaph to a poor small life extinguished.
We have discovered something interesting about large amounts of mosquitoes. They are like liquid. When you remove some from circulation, more flow in to the empty space like some sort of blood sucking cosmic maple syrup.
It seems like the Mozzie Avenger’s work will never be done. I dread the day that in an ecstacy of zapping, he swipes the wrong way and catches Miranda upside the head with the zapper on full. Then we’ll see the blood flow.
That’s all for today. Next time, I’ll have to tell you about our second run in with the Cat’s chorus.
I take this opportunity to write a blog whilst listening to the dulcet tones of my Boo screaming endlessly. He has had some ‘Infant’s Friend’ but we will wait a little while yet before we offer the panadol. I suspect that his little bowel is filled with a noxious and expanding gas which causes him all manner of pain. The poor little thing…..after all, no-one likes to be filled with a noxious gas.
The rest of the team are taking some down time. Miranda is doing one of those puzzle books which never seem to end. She occasionally asks the answers to mysteries man was never meant to know. Things like ‘what yellow condiment is used in Indian food?’ and ‘what is the capital of Cambodia?’ Meanwhile, Miriam is catching up on her Khmer homework. She is most likely writing her 10 sentences using how, when, where and why. Suffice to say, she is at this moment discussing the mind bending intracacies of using the word ‘house’ in a sentence. Whole worlds hang in the balance. James is colouring in parts of his bible a horrible orange colour. Apparently, he likes orange. Personally, I think it is possible to study the bible without such hideous colours as orange and brown.
It seems the Boo has finally fallen unconscious. We had the chloroform release valve set on 15 minutes, so I expect that has ‘kicked in’.
On the bible centre front, our week has been replete with expectation, but not so much activity. We have had the frustrating problem of students booking times to visit and then not showing up. But when they do show up, it is a very draining exercise. Many can speak reasonable English, but scattered amongst them are various levels of scriptural understanding and various levels of English comprehension. It makes for a huge challenge and always leaves us very tired at the end. Most students want to attend 5 days a week, but there is no way we can accommodate that number of classes, even with the two couples. There is nothing more inclined to suck the very life out of you as that half smile that creeps across the face of a student that has absolutely NO idea what you are talking about. In fact, such students also seem to lose any power of comprehension they once had. Once the smile arrives, they don’t even understand ‘do you understand’. You’ve only used the phrase 1000 000 000 times before…but somehow, for some bizarre reason, it no longer makes sense to them.
After a long lesson, I let my defenses down. I ask stupid questions like;
“So, how did you go?”
The student invariably responds with;
“ Ummm…I go by bike?
There is some quiet weeping and a big smile. ‘Choom riep lia’, I say to them as they walk out the door. After all, it’s only the 15th time we’ve taken 15 minutes to explain looking up Genesis 1:1.
The pain is strong in my heart.
I was standing at the front gate with ‘Dike’ only the other morning discussing the many and varied life of the TukTuk driver. It seems that TukTuk drivers spend most of the day sleeping, as fares are often hard to come by. ..The evidence provided by my own eagle eye seems to back up his claim. Dike was also explaining why it was not a good idea to drive a Tuk Tuk on two wheels. I heartily agreed with him. I’m not sure whether he was speaking from experience, but his optional drivers license comforts me, if only a little. Dike was even providing me with a list of reasons that I should choose him as my permanent Tuk Tuk driver. He has a grievance against me, you see. I had made an agreement with him to return to the place where we were dropped off for dinner for the return fare, but it being dark and my eyes being a little dodgy meant that we just took the first Moto who answered ‘yes’ to the question ‘are you Dike’. I mean, how many guys called ‘Dike’ can there be in Phnom Penh? His further grievance concerns his waiting from 8:00am for our party to leave the premises when I distinctly told him 9:30am. He says that ‘I lie him’, but I really don’t lie him. I think maybe he ‘lie’ me.
No…wait. Toby is back again. He’s developing immunity to the Chloroform it seems.
Some panadol and a nursing to sleep does the trick. He appears to be down for the count.
Most of you would have heard of Bananaman? When Eric eats a banana, an amazing transformation takes place…for Eric is Bananaman? Well, whenever a superhero comes into existence, there is always a supervillian who rears his fearsome head. Such a supervillian has arrived on the scene. He is known only as the ‘mozzie avenger’. A twisted and violent criminal who seeks every opportunity to add more mosquitos to his bloody swathe of death. What is his secret identity, you ask?
I ask you, who would have believed that such an innocuous and harmless item as a high voltage, electrified tennis racquet could produce such a horrific change in a man so gentle and loving as our very own James. The sound of one thousand tiny electric deaths reverberates in the house. At any time of day and night, the twisted and snarling face of this fiend can be seen stalking his prey, like the great white hunter. His satisfied snigger the only epitaph to a poor small life extinguished.
We have discovered something interesting about large amounts of mosquitoes. They are like liquid. When you remove some from circulation, more flow in to the empty space like some sort of blood sucking cosmic maple syrup.
It seems like the Mozzie Avenger’s work will never be done. I dread the day that in an ecstacy of zapping, he swipes the wrong way and catches Miranda upside the head with the zapper on full. Then we’ll see the blood flow.
That’s all for today. Next time, I’ll have to tell you about our second run in with the Cat’s chorus.
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