Treasure throve of all things mystical – that is Ubud. I was initially skeptical about visiting Ubud as I’m not a fan of competing with throngs of tourists, especially when I’m on a holiday. But Ubud proved me wrong, despite the busy traffic at certain times of the day and the never ending shops along the Main Street, Monkey Forest road, Hanoman Street, and Dewi Sita Street are the hidden back lanes that lead to vast green paddy fields that make a ready escape.

This little town holds dear to its traditions and so I observed. One afternoon we biked around and found ourselves stuck in traffic of people along Monkey Forest road. A good long line of nearly 1km of cars, bikes and people were sardine on the streets in gridlock. We waited patiently for it to pass and found out that a funeral procession was taking place. Family and friends of the deceased were walking the final march into Monkey Forest for the burial. Evidently, despite Ubud being a tourist hotspot, locals still went about their necessary traditions – even if it means causing a mad traffic jam.

Laid back as it is, I found old and young men sitting together with their fighter chickens chatting the afternoon away. While their wives watch over the children, men gather in the way they know best, chats and cock fights.

Religion also defines their culture, steep in religious beliefs, offerings are presented to their gods daily and scents of burning incense lingers in the air. Good luck charms are places at shops entrances, walkways and byways.

And in the midst of all this authenticity are hotels, cozy cafes, massage spas, cooking schools, clothing shops and art galleries polka dotted along uneven pathways. It is a mix of pleasant chaos where every Balinese supports one another to get an extra buck or two from the foreigner. Yours truly.

A history of genocide, wars and devastation, it’s a wonder Cambodia and her people are still very much alive today. Still the stains of such history are seeing its ripple effects in today’s generation. Statistics have shown that 51% of Cambodia’s population is under the age of 18. And of this 51% not even half get a proper education. Many of them are forced to help their parents on the field, some of them are make it through only to primary school and there are those that are urged to beg and even sell their bodies for a meager dollar or two.

On our second night in Battambang, we had our dinner at a road side stall. Our tables were filled with food, drinks and more food to go around. We ate with much comfort relishing the delicious Cambodian meal and fruit shakes. After we satisfied our hunger, we stood up to leave. Within seconds of leaving our seats, a man in tattered clothing comes rushing to the table with an empty plastic bag pouring our leftovers into it. He scrapped the plates clean. Oblivious of our presence, his only focus was to get whatever food that was left before the stall owner comes shooing him away. I stopped at my tracks unable to comprehend the severity of hunger this man was facing. He retreated to a corner stuffing his face with a jumble leftover.

Regardless of how much I’ve travelled, seen different cultures, traditions, people and places and regardless of how many mission trips I’ve been too, my prayer is that I will never be immune to scenes of poverty, desperation and scarcity. Because compassion starts in the heart and compassion can move mountains.

Our Sunday in Cambodia was spent traveling to four different churches ministering to adults and children. Two teams travelled on motorbikes for over 50 kilometers on a dusty gravelly road. The other two teams travelled by van to the other two churches. These churches were simple, some just under a tree, one church under a wooden shack and one in a make-shift church. Simplicity and sincerity was very apparent. There was no sound system, LCD screens, big pulpits, ushers, leaflets or anything of that sort. It was merely the gathering of His people in a place sharing fellowship and feeding from God’s word. Isn’t that what church is about?!

I sincerely believe that there is hope for Cambodia. This generation of 51% under the age of 18 is a God given generation with God given destinies and futures. They have talent and skills just like you and I – the only thing lacking are opportunities. But opportunities are not far-fetched, it’s coming to Cambodia and I hope to see the fruits of it one day.

Watch this video Terence put together…

The harsh realities of Cambodia stares me in the face. My second trip to this desolate country in a month has left an indelible mark in my throve of memories. Touching down in Siem Reap, we travelled four hours on a local bus to Battambang. Packed with over 40kgs of old clothes, medical supplies and a vague sense of what to expect, our team of a doctor and four medical students, 10 professionals  and a little girl (Vanora) and set out to make medical aid possible for the rural village folk.

We met up with Pastor Sam of Legacy of Hope, an English language institute that offers quality education to children and youth.  He brings us around the school, a few simple blocks of tiny classrooms with ceilings low enough to make you feel claustrophobic. Students stare at us intently offering welcoming smiles and respectful bows as we peeked in.

Prior to our arrival, Pastor Sam had organized the purchase of medicines and prepared a group of local translators to help us with the medical camp. We spent the rest of the day sorting, counting, packing and labeling medicines into the wee hours of the morning.

The next day, many questions still hung in the air as we travelled another hour into interiors of the country side– ‘How many people will come?’, ‘How will the response be?’, ‘What will we encounter?’, ‘Will we be able to cope with the numbers?’… To add to the sea of questions, it was the first time a medical team has visited this particular village.

A multitude of people were found waiting at the entrance of the school, the temporary ‘hospital’ for the next 2 days. Along the way as our van approached, groups of people were seen walking towards the school, some pulling wooden carts to ferry their children, others dragging their little ones by the finger in hope to get some medicines for their ailing bodies.

Children walked around with torn clothes, some half-naked and most of them without any shoes or slippers. Their hair streaked with a light tinge of blonde not from hair dye but as a result of severe malnutrition. Old women and men offer a smile to welcome us and I’m overcome by the sight of decaying and charcoal black teeth. I returned a smile with my best effort trying to hide the feelings that overcome me – feelings of empathy and despair.

In a place like Cambodia, cleanliness and hygiene is a concept hard to grasp or even understand. These people have so little to survive much less spare a few dollars to buy toothpaste or soap for bathing. They live on bare minimum, a shade above their head and enough to fill their stomachs. Finger nails packed with dirt are trimmed manually by biting on it. Water is a precious natural resource since it rains for 6 months and not even a drop for the next half of the year. And in those dry seasons, water is used for cooking rather than washing or cleaning.

Yet despite the poverty stricken conditions, nothing comes free. Parents still need to pay for their children’s education and medical aid is not covered by insurance or even subsidized by the government. In order to put food on the table, one has to work hard plowing and tilling their land in harsh weather conditions. Meat is a complete luxury for these rural folk since it costs USD12 for 1kg of chicken!

On the first day of the medical camp, we saw over 350 patients. Setting up stations to test their blood pressure, glucose level and finally meeting a doctor – we dispensed thousands of tablets, cleaned wounds, gave out vitamins and extended our hearts to these people. Children walked into the ‘hospital’ without parents, farmers miss a day of work just to get a basic medical health check, families streamed in and the hall was filled. The doctors didn’t have a minute to rest and the pharmacy buzzed with activity.

Where old world and new world collide – Siem Reap to me is a country battling to find her identity. A mix of Vietnam, Laos and Thailand, this mesh of culture, tradition and lifestyle intrigues me. Travelers  flocking to Cambodia has ‘visiting the ruins’ as top on the list of must do’s , then maybe sparing some time to volunteer at one of the many hundreds of NGOs polka dotted across the country, then comes the food and perhaps cultural centers showcasing Apsara dancers.

Indeed Cambodia has successfully preserved their national heritage of craggy temples, the famous Angkor Wat, Ta Prohm and Bayon being the most visited. Throngs of tourist stream into these ancient landmarks photographing at every angle. Perpetual hand and footprints have left its mark on these stones turning them into a darkish grey. The structures are mesmerizing with century old stories to tell. Towering soft wood trees anchor themselves on these structures providing shade against the sweltering heat.

Modern day Cambodia is a representation of the old trying to embrace the new, yet not there yet. Struggling to find a foot in development, Cambodia is still very rural and laid back in my opinion. Development visited only when foreign trade and intervention infiltrated the land. Many NGOs set up in the country is established for the fact that the local economy desperately needs help. Hopefully Cambodia will one day be able to stand on its own feet and thrive.

The streets still lined with food vendors, tuk tuk drivers calling “tuk tuk lady” the minute they see a foreigner, make shift fish spas set up to lure tourists, touts continue to tail you just to get one dollar for a stack of postcards. Tourism is big here. But how far can this stretch? That remains a big concern.

Twelve months in a year can easily whizz by without much thought. Hectic schedules and personal commitments get the better of me – but we, both Terence and I have made it a point to purposefully set aside some days in our allocated annual leave to go out and do something meaningful – give back, in short.

In previous years we have travelled around Malaysia, Thailand, Acheh, and Indonesia helping local communities by way of capacity building, skills enhancement, education and even physical labour. Days in our early youth we spent many hours under the hot sun digging holes for bamboo piling to build new shacks, hours in the kitchen helping women cook and time with young ladies teaching them handicraft and social skills. We organized and put together children and youth rallies for local schools and universities and witnessed the joy and excitement we brought to them.

Little did we know that the act of giving back became a lifestyle, something we cannot simply ignore. We’re made mindful of the tiniest blessings that come to us daily and of the greater call that God has entrusted us with – this is the very least we can do. It helps put life into perspective. After all, if life is a selfish journey, what a lonely road it will be.

This year we will be going to Cambodia, at the end of August for a medical mission trip. The team is made up of a doctor, 5 medical students and 9 professionals. We will be visiting a village in Battambang, Siem Riep to give medical aid to over 500 villagers. Due to the impoverish state of the village, local communities barely get medical support or attention unless a severe situation calls for it. We’ve been alerted to pack our day bags with muesli bars, munchies and bottled water as the villagers often come in throngs leaving little room for the medical team to rest or have proper lunches.

We will occupy a vacant school to set up the make shift clinic. Prepared for the most basic amenities (eg. an empty building with minimal furniture), we will have to improvise to create different stations for registration, blood & sugar test, vision test, doctor’s consultation ‘ward’ and a medicine dispenser unit.

On the Sunday we will be there, we will be visiting the local church and sharing a Sabbath with them in fellowship, singing and word. My heart thumps with anticipation for the great things we will encounter and the lives we will touch – because the Great Commission really matters to my Father and therefore it matters to me.