English Makes The Difference

The warmth of the Cambodian people is unmistakable: it shines in every smile, every wave from a motorbike, and every child’s enthusiastic “Hello, teacher!”

But beneath this beauty lies a hard truth. In many rural villages, opportunity is scarce. The path to a better life is narrow and uneven – and more often than not – hinges on one thing: the ability to speak English.

In villages like Kampong Tralach, young people face a stark choice. If they learn English, they may find work in tourism, or rare office jobs in factories run by foreign companies. If they don’t, their options are limited to low-paying, exhausting work: farming or taking shift work in those same factories. University isn’t even on the horizon unless they can pass English exams.

Although government schools technically offer English lessons, the reality is discouraging. Many students reach their teenage years without learning to read or essential computer skills. Classrooms overflow with more than 50 children, and teachers are generally unqualified. In the 9th grade classes, where Julian and Jack help out, the math teacher doubles as the English instructor. It’s no surprise that progress is slow, and that many students fall through the cracks, unseen and unheard. Schools that offer English lessons after school do exist, however, these are private and cost money, so they are inaccessible to the village children.

That’s why Searey founded a free community English school, where he and volunteers teach from the age of five. Every day after school, around 30 village children came to dilapidated huts near the local pagoda to be taught in three classes. I had a tremendous amount of fun teaching my class something and preparing learning puzzles and worksheets for them. Even though we barely understood each other, we liked each other very much. And we learned something, too. At least at the end of the lesson, they were able to say, “I’m great, thank you. May I go to the bathroom, teacher?” The “teacher, play game” at the end of the lesson was very important. I really miss my students and hope our successor volunteers will also make a good effort with them!

But let’s start from the beginning.

In The Land Of Affordable Living

Caro – 17.1.25

We had a brief moment of panic in Hawaii when we realized how quickly our money was disappearing. So we googled the cheapest travel destinations. Right at the top: Cambodia. We’ve both wanted to visit ever since watching Indiana Jones, so that quickly became our next stop.

We also looked for a new Workaway opportunity and found one: we’ll be helping out at a small village school. How much help I’ll actually be remains to be seen.

Now we’ve arrived in Phnom Penh and have started to get a feel for the culture. It reminds us a lot of Myanmar and Vietnam, with the endless stream of scooters and tuk-tuks, and houses that double as shops on the ground floor.

The streets are a culinary feast! There are small stalls everywhere with a few chairs selling a specific dish, or small carts being pushed around. A dish like that with lots of rice usually costs 10,000 riel, which is about $2.50 (€1.70). The whole of life takes place on the streets, even in the dark of the evening. Eating, drinking, working and resting. Although people work all day, no one is stressed here. Many of the vendors at these small stalls have hung their hammocks next to them and are chilling out until someone comes along. I particularly like that both men and women can be seen on the streets. Women also ride mopeds with heavy loads, run their shops and collect money, and men also do cleaning jobs and drive the children around.

The Khmer people have created impressive architecture over their long tradition, such as the countless Buddhist temples and the royal palace. They are particularly fond of pointed roofs, demon statues, and lion, dragon and elephant animals, sculpted in shimmering gold. The current king still lives here, but his function is purely ceremonial. 

We’ve also begun to learn about Cambodia’s darker history, especially the reign of the Khmer Rouge and the genocide of the 1970s. We visited the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, located in a former extermination camp. It’s frightening that this is still such recent history.

Julian Is Only Thinking About Food Again

Julian – 18.01.25

One of the most fascinating aspects of foreign cultures, for me, is how people eat. During our first few days here, we’ve had some truly delicious Khmer meals.

The go-to dish seems to be a noodle or rice soup, with different toppings depending on what’s available at the market that day. The soup is usually served in a small bowl, accompanied by optional add-ins like bean sprouts, fried onions, chopped peanuts, and lime wedges. The base can taste a bit bland, but that squeeze of lime gives it a real kick!

Street food is king here. The most authentic and cheapest meals are from corner-side carts under makeshift tents. One cart served grilled poultry that looked suspiciously the size of a reed sparrow… Let’s just say we didn’t ask too many questions.

Caro, the Teacher Training Assessor

Julian – 21.01.25

We’ve now been in Kampong Tralach for three days, a small village about 60 km north of Phnom Penh, and we’ve already gotten a good feel for Cambodian village life.

On Saturday, our host arranged for a driver to pick us up. Expecting a car (given all our luggage), we were a bit surprised when Honda, our cheerful tuk-tuk driver, showed up. Somehow, with a bit of luggage Tetris, we squeezed in.

On arrival, we met Searey, our host, and his family. School wouldn’t start until Monday evening, so we had time to settle into a much simpler lifestyle.

Sreyran, Searey’s wife, treated us to some wonderful Cambodian specialties, like sticky rice with bean paste wrapped in banana leaves, and various curries with meat or fish served over rice.

On Monday, another volunteer, Ryan from New Zealand, arrived just in time. He took the beginners, I took the intermediate group, and Caro took the advanced students.

Teaching was a challenge at first. The school building is very basic—just walls, a roof, and a blackboard. Communication was also tricky, but the children were eager and enthusiastic. Older students helped translate. All in all, a successful first day. Caro said her class went better than expected, which was a huge relief!

In the evening, we played volleyball with the neighborhood. Winners got beer. The skill levels varied wildly, but the fun was universal.

Later, I brought out my guitar and jammed with a “drummer” using a phone drum app. It was hilariously fun.

The next morning, I visited a barber. Haircut and shave: 75 cents.

What’s Coming …

Caro – 24.1.25

Our life here is a bit like a long, calm river. Lots of slow-moving phases.

Every day we teach from 5 p.m. to 6 p.m., followed by a conversation lesson. The rest of the time we wait for food, chill in the hammock, or play with the dogs or little Lina.

And because we have so much time, I’ve become a bit of a village policeman, keeping a close eye on the street to make sure everything’s in order.

In the morning, for example, the ox carts pass by, taking tourists to the temple. If they arrive late, I immediately wonder what’s going on. In the evening, the oxen come plodding home again.

The monks are also out in the morning collecting offerings.

Schoolchildren in their uniforms pass by in the morning, at lunchtime, and in the afternoon on bicycles or scooters. Often several people ride on one scooter.

Plus, of course, scooters loaded to the limit and all sorts of funny soapboxes. Several traveling vendors drive up and down, selling their wares at doorsteps, from ice cream to cement, mattresses to flowers. Many of them can be heard from afar because they play a recorded message or music. And in the evening when we go to school, the truck comes by that takes the workers home from the factory.

Goooood aftanooooon teachaaaaaa!

Julian – 26.1.25

We’ve been in Kampong for a week now, and for the past week we’ve been teaching here at CBKTS, the community-based knowledge training school. The name takes some getting used to, but that doesn’t detract from the quality of the teaching.

Each lesson begins with the children standing up and greeting us, saying, “Good afternoon, teacher!” Then the children only sit down when the teacher explicitly allows them to, which the students acknowledge with a “Thank you, teacher.” I’ll suggest that to my own students when I get home.

The farewell is even funnier: “Goodbye Teacher, see you tomorrow – Good Luck!” So far, no one has been able to satisfactorily explain to us why you don’t wish your teacher good luck BEFORE class, if at all, but oh well.

As already mentioned, the material situation is a bit thin here, so Caro and I sometimes spend our free time thinking up and preparing little games for class.

We’ve already been to two funerals in the week we’ve been here. To be fair, they were the same two times; funerals here are celebrated over several days. The first time was actually right after our arrival. Searey introduced himself, showed us his house and our room—and then we went off to the funeral. I found it fascinating, on the one hand, how relaxed the people there were; it felt more like a wake, where you can chat and even laugh a bit. I also found it fascinating that each guest makes a donation to cover the costs of the elaborate ceremony. In return, they are blessed with a long prayer by the village elder over the loudspeaker system.

Nothing Beats Mom’s Cooking…

Caro – 8.2.24

In the three weeks we’ve lived here in this small village, we’ve already settled in really well. Despite my expectations, I’m having a lot of fun teaching my class English. The children are also adorable, very open, and welcoming. We’ve already had some great outings, beer gardens, and volleyball games with the locals, who were only too happy to welcome us. At least something new is finally happening in the village.

What I love most, though, is that all the children in the village, and many of the adults too, wave and say hello as you walk or cycle down the street.

But nevertheless, I have had a few moments recently when I have longed for home.

Especially a hot bath. I feel like I haven’t been properly clean in a month. Just rinsing myself off with cold rainwater somehow doesn’t cut it in the long run. And you’re constantly sweating and covered in dust, since most of the houses here are just dirt on the ground floor. My hair has long since become a bird’s nest.

Noise pollution hasn’t been invented here yet. If someone plays music, the whole village has to suffer. From 6 a.m. until late at night, you’re exposed to a cacophony. And in your free time, people sing karaoke at the top of their lungs, the Cambodians’ favorite pastime. Quiet! Just 5 minutes of peace!

And how I suddenly have a strong craving for a roast sirloin or a Jägerschnitzel! Or anything that comes out of the oven or is baked. Or, oh God, a sweet dish like apple strudel or apricot dumplings, that would be heavenly!

Today There Is A Farewell Party For Everyone !

Caro – 10.2.24

We’ve already seen firsthand that Cambodians know how to celebrate. On Sunday, we were invited to a wedding, and it was truly a full-throttle celebration.

It all started the day before with loud music that filled the entire village. On the day of the wedding, the loud jingle started at 4:00 a.m. However, we were already awake, as Searey had told us to get up at 6:00 a.m. to go to the “informal” breakfast at the bride’s house. Why exactly it was called informal, I’m not quite sure. There were already about 200 people gathered, and we were all handed a fruit plate as an offering. We then proceeded to the bride’s house with it.

The familiar tent and many tables were set up there, only this time everything was even more elaborately decorated and of course, there was rice soup for breakfast.

I stuck to the fruit basket and then got some ice cream with the kids.

After that, the official ceremony apparently began. The elderly and relatives gathered in a tent, and the bride and groom had to endure all sorts of rituals, including a symbolic haircut. The bride and groom themselves didn’t seem particularly pleased. The bride was very beautiful; the groom must have been a wealthy one.

There was a traditional band with wonderfully exotic instruments I’d never seen before, and three temple dancers.

The whole thing dragged on forever; the audience wasn’t really interested, and most of the guests went home after dinner. We did too, and caught up on some sleep.

In the evening, the real party began. But first, I had to get dressed. The women of the family had taken it upon themselves to get me ready. Sreyran lent me a traditional skirt, which I wanted to wear with a white blouse because I could never fit into her dainty top. After getting dressed, we went next door, which seemed to be the neighborhood beauty salon. When I arrived with Sreyran and Lina, a few giggling women were already gathered, giving each other manicures, pedicures, doing hair and makeup. They were delighted to see that they could also show off their skills on a barang. First, I got a haircut with tons of hairspray. They had clearly decided that my outfit wasn’t good enough, because suddenly a few dresses arrived for me to try on. I couldn’t resist the onslaught, and suddenly I was dressed entirely in pink. The Cambodian women were enchanted, and I received many surprised laughs and thumbs-ups that evening.

Sreyran and Lina also looked really beautiful in their robes.

In the bride’s courtyard, the pavilion had been dismantled after the ceremony for the party, there were more tables for about 500 people and a huge stage – there performed not only a band that evening, but also 4 singers including an entire dance group, who performed an incredible 10 costume changes.

The bride and groom were not far behind; they too appeared in several costumes. And even our host family left for a moment, only to reappear in even more glittering outfits! First, however, it was time to eat: rice soup, of course! But in the festive version with lots of side dishes. And there was beer – the staple of any Cambodian celebration – served in a glass with ice and a straw. The ice came in plastic bags and was constantly being distributed. It also melted just as constantly.

And with every sip, everyone toasted each other! A surprising number of people strolled past our table, and of course we all clinked glasses with them. It was probably one of the main attractions of the wedding – drinking with barangs. After a few beers with dinner, the crowd got going and people danced. Traditionally, in two-by-two rows with lots of hand waving around a table dressed with fruit and flowers. I was constantly being asked to dance, with both women and men, which is kind of pointless since you don’t interact with each other at all during the dance. But maybe it matters who you’re strolling around the middle next to. The later the evening, the wilder the dancing.

Getting drunk on this watered-down, light beer takes a lot of determination and perseverance. Cambodians have both in abundance, though, and by 10:30 in the evening, most of the guests were beyond happy-happy. At 11:00 the party was over. Nobody could have stayed standing any longer anyway.

As our time here draws to a close, I think of the fascinating things we learnt about our young students’ everyday lives and their dreams for the future. And English is truly the key to all of this.

If you’re interested in the school, please consider volunteering or donating. Searey can only afford textbooks and better classroom equipment if he receives donations.

Thank you, students! See you soon. And good luck!