By: Jackie Reed
English teacher for A.E.E’s Academic Program
June-July 2007

When I went to Cambodia to volunteer I had no idea what to expect. I had never travelled overseas before, least of all to a developing nation. When I arrived in Phnom Penh airport I was excited and nervous at the same time. As my tuk-tuk (moto-taxi) veered in and out of the chaotic traffic I held my breath. The sites, sounds and smells of the city would put anyone into an immediate state of displacement and at a loss for words. Brightly robed monks weaved in and through market crowds collecting alms, impoverished, hungry children begged for money, while disfigured men and women hawk their wears for 50 cents a piece.

The heat of the Cambodian sun makes your body drip constantly with sweat. And as the flies buzzed in my ears, I began to worry that this might not be the trip of a lifetime after all.

On my first day working at A.E.E’s Drop-in Centre in Toul Kork, I was assigned the task of picking up the school children who lived in a nearby slum. I love children. My daughter who is 6 years old, the same age as some of our children waited for me back home in Canada, cherished and spoiled by her doting grandparents.

When I arrived at the slum, a shudder coursed through my veins. There they were: a dozen children, dirty, smelly, all of whom eagerly await for their ride to school. The children live in broken homes, floorboards gaping, garbage and sewage spilling out from under and surrounding their shacks. But despite their wretched surrounding, there were smiles, there were hugs, and never have I seen such genuine hope and happiness from a group of children.

Through the next five weeks working as an English teacher for A.E.E’s Academic Bridge Program, I had the chance to learn more about these children. It was a privilege to learn about each child’s unique aspirations, talents, and their dreams for a better future. I learned too, the one thing that held them all in common: I learned that they were all bandaged into the life sucking cycle of poverty from which they were born. By the end of my stay in Cambodia, I realized that these children will never leave my heart.

Working as a volunteer at A.E.E, I was also exposed to the commercial sex workers (CSWs) who come and go at the centre. This experience opened my eyes to some of the harshest realities: failed abortions, domestic violence, the effects of H.I.V & A.I.D.S, debt bondage, and stories after stories of girls who have been tricked or coerced into entering the sex trade. What I saw through the eyes of these young girls was wasted talent, wasting beauty, and the outrageous acceptance of a fate beyond their control. From this experience, I’ve learned that for a people who have been exploited in so many different ways, often times it is the smallest of gestures can bring the most heart warming of smiles.

Something about Cambodia grips at your soul. As you see the harsh lines painted so distinctively between the haves and the have-nots, a feeling of hopelessness gnaws at the back of your mind. Despite this, Cambodian staff and Canadian volunteers who work at the centre manage to encourage each other day after day to carry on the work.

Not only was working with A.E.E the most remarkable experience of my life, it was also a wonderful learning & eye-opening experience. Having returned to my home in Canada, I now realize my simple life is itself a privilege and a luxury.

For those who believe that no human should be subjected to the restraints of poverty, that education is a way out, and that neither child nor woman should ever be sold for sex —- I would encourage you to go and experience the truth for yourself.

Saying good-bye to Cambodia is a lie. I will never say good-bye to Cambodia. As gifts were exchanged and good-byes were uttered, I found myself alone at the Phnom Penh airport waiting to depart. Tears ran down my face, as a rush of a work unfinished, of my children still living in their shanty homes, and of fear of what will become of the people I came to love and pray for. Going to Cambodia wasn’t only about the lives I touched, it also became about those that touched mine.