Fresh Air

Mel and I took our motorbike on a little trip today. We headed south and west out of Phnom Penh, down the National Road 3 towards the district of Kong Pisei in Kampong Speu Province (I doubt many of you know where exactly I mean, but the names are kind of fun).

We trekked along a dust bowl of a road for about 15 km, the grit of the sandy earth sweeping up under our helmets as massive trucks whipped by. Over loose gravel and across perilous potholes, we struggled to endure the busy streets of Phnom Penh’s outer industrial rim. Once out of the quagmire of traffic and filthy air, we turned sharply down the National Road and suddenly were met by the wide green of Cambodia’s countryside.

The traffic became lighter and lighter the further we went, though the cars and trucks jockeying for position or crossing lanes in order to pass each other never seemed to stop. At first, both of us were a bit on edge, watching frontwards and backwards in anticipation of what other motorists might try to do on the road, but eventually our nerves calmed, and we were captivated by the immense beauty of this tranquil land.

A trip to the province is a step back in time. Rice workers are planting their crops, as clouds billow over the mountains in the distance. Cattle graze among the paddies, and children run up and down the network of dikes between neatly-packed rows of rice. Palm trees sprout up endlessly across the floodplain. If not for our motor’s humming, all is quiet and still. The temperature has dropped to about 82 degrees (which feels like fall weather after you've been here a while), and a steady breeze churns up and down the road.

We spent the day with our friend, Kal, visiting his home village and watching/participating in his VBS program, as well as sharing a meal with his family and friends. Kal has worked hard to organize and put on the VBS for children in multiple villages for two to three weeks, every single day. It was so, so good.

For all the work we do in our modern world—for all the technology and gadgetry with which we seek to surround ourselves—there is yet missing in our world that precious element of serenity, and I believe that such serenity comes naturally in a life of simplicity. I know we’ve all heard (or told) stories of “those poor children” who “have nothing” and yet “look so happy,” but somehow we don’t allow ourselves time enough to really understand why this is. Now, as has happened in many cases, the poor desire wealth and possessions (just like any of us), and thus expose the broken condition of the heart that is natural to all of us. But this doesn’t mean that the happiness we see when we look at those living in simple (and often impoverished) conditions isn’t real.

Anyway, these are just a few thoughts that came to me today, as a result of getting a good dose of fresh air. I highly recommend it.

-Ryan