Cafe Eden, Phnom Penh, Cambodia, Jan 2012
Sitting opposite me in the workshop of a cafe/craft shop in the heart of Phnom Penh is a vibrant young business woman. Surrounded by the necklaces, cards and notebooks she has made, she works quickly and efficiently, tying on price tags and listing items ready for the up and coming Christmas craft fair that has been her focus for weeks. As she works, we talk.
I have known Srey Rohm for a year and have sat with her many times before. In those times I have heard parts of her story and have always been moved by her honesty and courage. For the past 10 years she has lived with the Care for Cambodia family on the outskirts of Phnom Penh, having moved there from her village when she was 16. This year she and her friend, Sokim, have moved further into the city where they now live in and manage the joint business of Cafe Eden.
Today Srey Rohm smiles up at me and grabs my hand. “You sure you want to hear this?” she says and wrinkles her nose. I sit, ready with pen and paper, nodding and ask her how she first got to know Fi and came to be at CFC............
“I first knew Fi when she had a craft business and used to visit my province to buy clay pots. When she came I had no work to do. I could not make the pots but she knew a family who were friends of mine and through them I learnt how to make them. They trained me. Om (“Aunty”) Fi helped by buying clay for us every month. She also taught us about God and I received God through her visits. She used to say that God loves rich people but He really loves the poor people. I never felt love before. My family did not think or care about me. So I believe in God and the first time I receive Him, I really love Him and feel happy. My family were angry with me though and were always complaining. So this made me feel sad too.
I used to go to church every Sunday even though it was very far and difficult for me to go. I used to put my wheelchair on a trailer pulled by a motorbike and travel over very bumpy ground.
My father was the big problem though. I had a step-mother and he would always leave me with her and go to another village to work. One day he came home and was angry with me so he hit me. He used the kind of whip you use on a cow and whipped my back and sides until I was unconscious. I was 15 years old then. Afterwards I did not tell anyone, not my grandmother, not Fi. I wanted to leave but had nothing. I used to think a lot at night, that Dad did not love me or my brothers, just his new wife.
So one night I ran away. I took the 4000 riel ($1) my younger brother had been saving in a pot and put it in the back of my wheelchair along with the Bible Fi had given me. I took nothing else. I just left. My plan was to go to a family I knew far from the village but it was hard for me to travel and I had to spend 2000 riel on a moto truck ride. When I got there and asked the family for help they could not. I knew of another family further away so went to find them. I got so hungry on the way I spent 500 riel on food and then 1000 riel on transport. So I had almost nothing by the time I reached them. When I arrived they asked why I had come and I said just to visit. And thankfully they let me stay with them for 2 days.
After this I went back to my village and decided to tell the truth about my Dad. And so I did not stay at home again but with a family that knew my mother. They were good people but I had to work very hard for them, cleaning, washing, cooking and looking after the children. I had no rest and would get many headaches. One job I did not like was to cook for the monks in the Pagoda. I was afraid this would make God unhappy and would pray each time that I was sorry. The family said I had to do it as I would be blessed in the next life and not come back disabled.
One time I went to church and did not let them know. When they found out they were so angry with me and told me to stop. ‘Jesus is not Khmer’, they said. And if I disagreed I had nowhere to live. So I did not go again.
One good thing I remember though was hearing Christians singing when I got up early in the morning to cook. They met across the road from me and when I heard them I would feel so sad. I wanted to be free to worship like them so I cried out to God and prayed for a whole week. And then I had a dream. I was in a place that was dirty and my body was dirty. There were thorns everywhere too which were ripping into my skin. Then I saw Fi holding me and then taking me somewhere far away.
A week later Fi came to the village and I saw her drive past as I was cleaning outside the house. She was with a man called Bill who looked over and said to Fi, ‘That girl over there has the shine of God on her’. When Fi saw it was me she came over and I cried a lot, telling her what had happened and why I was not with my own family anymore.
Bill was very interested in me because of what he saw in me and asked me my name. ‘Soukhon’, I said, which means “The crippled girl”. That night I stayed with Fi and she had a dream about me. She saw me dancing with many people, like Miriam singing and worshipping with the people coming out of Egypt. In the morning she called me “Srey Rohm” which means “The girl who dances”.
That day I asked her if she could help me, whether there was an NGO that would help people like me? I wanted to live somewhere else where I could be free to worship God and get to know Him more. But Fi said no, she would not take me to an NGO but would take me home with her instead. ‘Last night’, she said ‘I prayed that if it was right to take you then you would ask me. And because you have, I believe this is from God.’
So that was when I went to stay with Norman and Fi at CFC. I was 16 years old. There I had lots of time to pray but I still hated my Dad and my brothers and sisters. It took time to learn to love. Norman and Fi helped me by showing me the love of God. And after a while, I don’t know when exactly, the hurt in my heart went and I could forgive my family.
Life in CFC has been good. I like the people there and the children. Some years ago I remembered a vision I had back in the village when I was worshipping. It was of many children sitting around me. And that is what it has been like at CFC. I have helped many children and learnt to love them because of what I have learnt from Norman and Fi.
Always on my birthday people ask me what they can pray for me. And always I have said a shop to sell crafts. So God is good! Cafe Eden is a step towards that and one day I hope to have my own shop. The other prayer I have always said is for a parent. And God has been good to me there too.
Two or three years ago I met Leslie and David Schules. When I first saw Leslie I felt an immediate love for her and wanted to give her things so made her necklaces and cross-stitch cards and flowers. She wrote letters to me saying I have a good heart and am precious. One time I wrote to ask if it would be OK if I could call her Mum but for a long time I did not receive a reply. In my heart I felt so sad until one day she came to CFC! She told me she did not want to write a letter but wanted to talk to me. So with Fi translating, she told me that in her heart she felt the same and although the government does not allow her to adopt me, in her heart I am her family.
In both these things I pray a bit and then forget! But God does not forget and He has given me a business and a mother. Recently I prayed (and then forgot!) to learn to make jewelry like in the magazines. I asked Fi about it but she said it was expensive to go to college. And I only got to grade 2 in school so would not be accepted anyway. A few weeks ago, however, a lady from Singapore visited who makes jewelry and she taught me how to make the kind of necklaces I’ve seen in magazines!
Before I used to think that God did not think or even care about me but even when I forget to pray, he remembers and still answers.”
Sreyrohm smiles. She has finished her story, for now. She looks up at me: “Was that OK?” All I can do is put my hand on her arm and say “Achun traan” (Thank you) and smile back. We sit together and talk for a while. And then we spend the rest of the afternoon in quiet reflection, making bookmarks from bits of leftover leather, resting in a holy moment and forgetting to pray.