I am in love with Cambodia.
But I worry that I am not brave enough
to love her as deeply as I want to.
Am I strong enough
to look her in the eye and see
not just the joys she has had but also the pain?
Am I strong enough
to listen to her tales of wonder,
but also her tales of heartbreak and sorrow?
Some days I just want to hide away in my cool apartment,
watching bad American television,
and pretending she doesn’t exist.
But I love her.
And so, every morning,
I get up and go outside to meet her.
She entices me with her beauty,
The friendliness of her people,
Laughing children,
Ruined monuments of
once great civilizations,
Proud Khmer traditions,
Good conversations over fresh fruit shakes.
Frequently, she pushes aside a piece of clothing
and shows me her scars.
Deep wounds only recently healed over.
She talks to me about them
wanting to share her stories of pain and suffering.
Eager to remember them,
so they will not be repeated,
and hopeful for her future.
I cannot look away
although it makes me want to weep so bad that
I can feel it in my bones.
But she will not let me.
Instead, she lifts me up
and inspires me
with her love of tradition
and her embrace of the future.
She stands quietly
waiting for me
with her shy smile,
the grace of her som pas,
and her courageous heart.
Maybe I do have the strength after all.
~Kat
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