Over a staff retreat at the beginning of July, I found myself in a hilarious situation. We had driven eight hours from the traffic-laden city of Phnom Penh to the beachside province of Sihanoukville to gather for two and a half days of team bonding. During the retreat, our Phnom Penh staff met up with the two other Samaritan’s Purse Cambodia staffs from Kratie Province and Banteay Meanchey Province. Needless to say, after hours of driving from various parts of Cambodia, everyone was so excited to have some fun on the coast.
The retreat consisted of soccer matches, missionary speakers, worship, eating scrumptious food, and games. While I thought the peak moment of the retreat had arrived when I became musical chair champion out of over 100 staff members, I was proved wrong about an hour after my victory. Following a few games inside the retreat center, we headed to the beach for some crazy water games. As if we were not getting wet enough, the sky suddenly filled with clouds and heavy drops of rain began pouring down on us.
At first, I followed the lead of some of the other staff members and ran for shelter under the tented restaurant roofs along the boardwalk. But as I watched the free spirited few remain outside on the wet sand, getting soaked by rain, ocean, and buckets of water, I knew they were having way more fun than I was. So I turned to my Khmer friend and said, “Come on Vichea! Let’s go out there.” So we ran back onto the beach, giggling like little kids as we jumped back into the game that was temporarily interrupted by the rain. I was laughing and squealing like crazy as I sat in the sopping sand in a line behind of some other staff members. It was a torrential downpour on us all as we took turns passing bowls of ocean water over each other’s heads and into the bowl of the person behind us. Half the time the water spilled all over us rather than into the bowls.
But then, as if my once-dry-but-now-filled-with-saltwater clothing wasn’t wet enough, all of sudden I saw a mass exodus of staff members running into the ocean with all their clothes on. And then I remembered how someone had told me that Cambodians like swimming fully clothed… jeans and all!
Wishing I had brought my swimsuit, I stepped shin deep into the ocean as I marveled at a sight I had never seen before. All of my Khmer coworkers were filled with utter glee, laughing and smiling widely as they splashed around in the water in their jeans and t-shirts.
“I would have worn my swimsuit if had known we were swimming,” I told my roommate Bella, who is also from America. But she was already making her way further in, ready to make the full plunge as her sandy overalls submerged deeper underwater with every step. She saw me hesitating as I stepped a little further in, now about waste deep in saltwater. I felt so strange wearing leggings and a thick tank top as I stood in the ocean. But when Bella said, “Come on Paige, you just have to fully commit!” I realized she was right. If I was already halfway across the world, soaked with rain and saltwater anyways, and all my Cambodian friends were having the time of their life, why on earth should I have a single reason to hesitate? Sure, it’s not norm in my culture to swim with all your clothes on. But I wasn’t in America and just because we do things differently doesn’t make it better. My Khmer friends were having just as much fun as any one I have ever seen swimming in a bathing suit. So, in that moment I decided that I just needed to embrace it. Abandoning of all my inhibitions, I swam all the way in, letting my clothes get utterly soaked. And I had the most delightful time letting the waves wash over me as I laughed and swam alongside everyone else.
When in Cambodia, do as the Cambodians do.