today I ran with an elephant...welcome to Cambodia

Yes, that's right.

I used to chuckle to myself when I would be out for my morning jog in Freetown and have to pause to share the road with goats or chickens who certainly believed they had the right-of-way.  This morning, while out for my jog, I suddenly ran up alongside an elephant.  Yes, a twice as tall as me, one foot could squash me like an ant, elephant.  Needless to say, I let him have the right-of-way.  I don’t think this is particularly normal in the hustling bustling city of Phnom Penh.  But then again, how should I know normal?  Welcome to Cambodia...

The city came alive today.  Motos (motor bikes, the most common form of transportation) zooming in every direction regardless of lane, traffic sign or light.  Cars, trucks, motos and tuktuks (a motor bike with a little cart attached to the back to carry passengers) fight for the road with bicycles and food carts selling everything from mangos to roasted corn, papaya salad to fried noodles.  Shops and cafés are filled with people darting in and out and the air buzzes with sounds of life.  The hustle and bustle of the city has awakened after a week of sleepy stillness when most left to go to their homeland, to their family who still live in the provinces, to celebrate the Khmer New Year.

The quiet, sacred, serene streets lined with little gold replicas of Buddhist temples wafting with sweet smells of incense and fruit became flooded with life.  I spent my first week here in a still, surreal haze, perfect for exploring the city.  Few stayed to celebrate on the lawns of the Royal Palace, dancing to music and indulging in sweet drinks, fruit and street food.  The fountains danced with colored water shows in sync to music and children played traditional games cheered on by family and friends munching on corn, roasted or popped, from street vendors.  The evenings were electric, while the days were quiet and still. 

The sights, the sounds, the smells…everything is so different here, and yet there is a small sense of familiarity.  Disorder and chaos seem welcome, linear and organized would be out of place.  Busy markets selling anything and everything you need, streets lined with stands selling small sweets, drinks and even packets of Ovaltine, vendors making their way between the traffic, calling out to you to buy their brilliantly bright yellow mangos.  There is something familiar, something welcoming about the seemingly similar chaos of these two completely different cities.

And yet, I am in a whole new world.  A whole new creatively inspired work of art by our masterful Creator.  An exquisite display of beauty and purity, to mask the brokenness of a poor and vulnerable nation, with a past as brutal as they come. There is a stunning respect for beauty in this culture, and an incredible ability to create it.  Gold temples reach to the sky.  Brilliantly colored flowers and brightly colored fruit line the streets.  The exquisite art of silk weaving makes walking through the market like walking on a rainbow. And even the deep respect and sign of gratitude shown with every bow and formal greeting carries a sense of beauty and peace amidst the hustle and bustle of city life.  The soft-spoken reverence of the Khmer people is as far from the loud, gregariousness of Sierra Leoneans as the countries are from each other.  And even in speech, the Khmer language is as far from any sounds my mouth has tried to make or ears to understand.

As I closed my eyes in church, what my ears could not decipher, my heart knew tried and true.  “How great is our God?  Sing with me, how great is our God?  And all will sing, how great, how great, is our God?”  The voices sang words I could not understand.  But my heart still stirred at the unfathomable question I knew the voices were asking.  How great is our God?  Hearing it sung by voices of a different tongue only greatens my wonder.  How great is our God?  How great is a God who speaks every language?  Loves every nation?  Died for every people?  How great is a God who brings light out of darkness, joy out of mourning, comfort out of suffering?  How great is a God who can bring redemption out of shame for the girls from a local after-care shelter who sit across from me?  How great is a God who brings me to a new country, a new culture – where I know no one and nothing – and provides for me here, blesses me here?  I may not understand it all, or any at all, but I know He is a Great, Great God who has met me here once again.