the blog

prayers too big for words: images from toul sleng prison and the killing fields at choeung ek

I’ve never posted my images taken from the day, over a year ago, when I visited Toul Sleng prison and the Killing Fields at Choeung Ek in and outside Phnom Penh, Cambodia. It’s was – and continues to be – difficult to wrap my head around. It felt too simple to post such gruesome and heart-breaking images without proper written analysis or without the deepest reverence for those for whom the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge continue to be an echoing nightmare. But I can’t hide

wisdom notes from dad

I've got a pretty cool dad. And I know most people think that about their own fathers - and maybe it's true - but I really lucked out being the spawn of the thoughtful, considerate man that I did. When I told most people I was considering moving to Cambodia for a year of service, learning, and growth, I got a mix of reactions, many of which questioned my motives and mental sanity. My father, however, was nothing but supportive and excited from day one. I remember sitting acro

photos: khmer wedding season

Despite being the hottest time of the year, the period between January and April is a joyfully welcomed season: it's wedding season! In the same way U.S. couples tend to wed during the summer months, the passing of the harvest period and general lack of rain means a lot of couples choose to marry during this time of year (and I mean a LOT - in my small village there is a wedding over half the nights each week). I have had the honor of formally attending two weddings, and 'cra

Opening Up: Accompaniment, Vulnerability, and a Brutal Back Rub

I haven't been able to move for two days. My legs shake when I try to hold myself up, my head feels like it is being squeezed in a compress. I've over-consumed Advils and Airbornes, forced myself into drinking healthy amounts of water (something I so often don't do around here). I'm sick. I refuse to go see the doctor. I insist it can't be that bad. Over dinner, I insist it will go away on its own and that I just need sleep. But as I barely manage to lift a spoonful of rice

All the Blogs I Meant to Blog in 2015

When I left home, I made firm promises to family and friends that I would keep them well-informed of the goings-on in my life: I’d write letters and call often and post photos and, most importantly, write some blog posts that my grandparents could share with their friends. Well, here I am at the end of 2015: I’m almost two months behind on donor letters, my internet is too slow and too frustrating for regular phone calls, I’m editing photos from early November still, and, yea

photos: it's raining...again

The rain comes every day. Sometimes it pitter patters on the church's tin roof in the early afternoon as we wrap up class; other times it waits to explode after dark in the shadows when it becomes nothing more than a great noise, its shape filled by imagination as we toss and turn on our beds, mats, floors. It's one of my favorite times of day - the heat breaks, the world slows down, the mind takes time to rest. Sometimes we play in it - filling buckets to toss on one another