Meeting the Minister

Just when I thought I had experienced the last of Khmer New Year and was almost ready to get out of the office on Friday afternoon (April 10th), the Executive Director asked me to accompany him to the home of the Minister of Social Affairs, Veterans and Youth Rehabilitation. I was a bit flustered because in typical Cambodian style, no one had told me anything about this until the last minute. This sounded like a very important man and I wasn’t exactly wearing my best outfit nor was I prepared at all, but I went anyway.

We drove to one of the many houses of the Minister with a huge bouquet of yellow flowers. The large courtyard was full of beautifully dressed women in white lacy, ruffly blouses and traditional long colorful skirts, men in suits. The minister’s house was huge and gorgeous, with intricately carved ceiling decorations and immaculate wooden furniture that reminded me of my relatives’ homes in Iran. There were several separate living room type areas, with the Minister and his wife sitting in the center of one while another was being used as a “waiting room” to meet with them. Official looking people and guards were standing and hovering everywhere, ensuring the smoothness of the process.

We only sat and waited for a few minutes before we were ushered into the main area. I thanked the Minister and his wife for their hospitality and praised their beautiful home in the choppy FOB English I’ve adopted here so as to be more easily understood by the locals. They responded in fluent English, which was embarrassing, as I realized for the first time that I was interacting with an entirely different class of Cambodian people. They introduced me to their two young sons who have both gone to high school and college in the States and Australia. I was so excited to meet Cambodians that I have more in common with that we dominated the conversation. One of the Minister’s sons who is now a high official in the Ministry (can we say nepotism, anyone?) even gave me his card to contact him afterward. After only a few minutes, however, we all stood for a very official-looking photo and had to move on to allow for a group of 15 who were waiting for their chance to wish the Minister a happy new year. A few days later, to my dismay (I was wearing a black top and dark skirt on the happiest occasion of the year and looked awful, a fact made only more obvious everytime the Minister's wife tried to tell me I was beautiful and that I look very similar to Cambodian people except for my nose...), the photograph showed up enlarged in a beautiful frame over the door of the DAC Executive Director’s office.

I felt very special, not only for the opportunity to meet a member of the Prime Minister’s cabinet in a small, intimate group, but also for the meaningful conversation and bond that I was able to have with him and his family. It made me realize why Westerners give up the comforts of home to stay in countries like this. Because while back home you may be nothing, here you are VIP, rich in comparison, privy to the highest upper class and almost like a celebrity to people who stare at you in the streets... even when you look like crap.

Nono has told me before that Cambodians just think of us as "crazy barangs" (word for the French that has adapted to encompass all foreigners) no matter what we do, so it's like we can do no wrong.