September 4, Friday: A Lost Brother Comes Home

September 4, Friday was the day we dreamed and hoped would happen: we would and did meet Saitha's sisters. In the months leading up to the trip, it was not clear if we could get help to find them, then find them and then arrange a meeting. It all came together and it was rich in warmth and meaning, albeit light in communication.

In the morning, a taxi brought us from the coastal town Sihanoukville to Phnom Penh, where we would meet. The family was already in the city. Through a scheduling snafu, Elephant had thought the meeting was to be on September 3. They came in a rented van with an unknown number of family inside. They used the extra day to see the city. Fortunately, Cambodians get free entry to sites and can usually negotiate cheap lodging. I hope they succeeded.

Elephant picked us up and brought us to the small park where we would meet. He called SaiMom, Saitha's 3d sister, and bantered with her, as had been their custom ever since they met almost 14 years ago. He coordinated her schooling with money that we provided. We waited a bit, drove around and on parking Saitha's sister Youen came running up. She recognized Saitha immediately and ran up to hug him, her eyes glistening. Shortly thereafter the van pulled up, sisters SaiMom and Yin showed up. Yin was a little reserved, but SaiMom got to Saitha's side and didn't leave it for the entire visit. She spoke a little English and thus was best able to communicate with him.

There were 19 of them, some were introduced to me, others not. Each sister brought her husband and two brought their mother-in-laws. Then there was a woman that I recognized from photos, but could not identify.The rest were children: Saitha's nieces and nephews. Saitha's two brothers: Lim and Kamsat were working in Thailand -I assume illegally and for low wages, but better than in Cambodia- and could not come. The good news is that the sibling group is intact and they are in touch with each other.

The sisters were just beaming at the sight of him. Of course he looks healthy and they could still recognize him, but perhaps there was more. He always knew that we intended to come to find them, but they never did. So looking back, the event may have been more stunning to them to Saitha. Their lost brother had come home. And only ten days earlier had they heard the news. 

A flurry of activity must have taken place to arrange the gathering. Yin lives near the Thai border. Youen lives near the Vietnamese border. Each lived day's journey by bus away from their home village. But that is where they gathered and then they rented the van. I hope I gave enough money to defray their costs. Even by bus with all those children, it could add up.

Anyway, they call crowded around Saitha. SaiMom tried to talk to him. The others could not. SaiMom introduced her husband and mother in law in English. There were no formal introductions otherwise. No one orchestrated such and I did not know how. Some did bring up their children to greet Saitha

Max kept his distance. He could have moved in and I tried to have him be more central, but he refused. He took the best pictures and even directed the picture taking, but always stayed far enough away, so that he could not be easily approached or involved. 

We went to a nearby pizza place, where Martha and I ordered pizzas, water and coke for everybody. There were no plain pizzas: just combo, pepperoni and garlic chicken. All the kids liked pizza, but some the adults did not. Fortunately, everyone had had some lunch earlier. Most people sat quietly. The children were around but quiet.

I tried to communicate using our translator and Google Translate. However, Elephant proved to be a reluctant translator: he only translated single phrases and did not set himself up as a translator with the family. We had thought to get another translator, but Elephant discouraged this to avoid complications. The people near me could not read I was told. Cambodian rural life is much like rural life in 19th century US. Elementary schools are available to those that can afford them. Secondary schools are in the towns, but are often too far from the villages. In SaiMom's case: she finished up the eight at the primary school, but did not attend secondary, because the 8km trek each way over dirt roads was too long to walk and a motorcycle too expensive.

Saitha exchanged email addresses with SaiMom. He distributed the pictures we had printed out of him: a collage and a picture. Some pictures we had framed, others were just printed. That was a big success of course. But there was no way to explain to them what they were seeing.

After about two hours, we went home. Youen, the one who had cared for Saitha as a little boy and had decided to put him up, cried. Her feelings must have been overwhelming. They gave us hugs. I gave each sister $100. I hope it was enough as they are poor.

Joris's Photos of the Day