Lucky Child (24 page)

When I arrive at Chou’s house, the first thing I do is eat.
(Left to right)
Morm, me, Mum, Chou, Aunt Keang, Aunt Hearng, and Moi (2001).

After we eat, we look at the pictures Meng sends of our families in America.

Kim, Huy Eng, Nancy, and Nick (2001).

A family visit to Angkor Wat.

Khouy and his family (2002).

Chou and her family (2002).

Meng, Tori, Eang, and Maria. Maria, Tori, and I all wore the same Cambodian dress on our graduation day (2002).

A wonderful mother—Chou with her daughters.

Mark and me on our wedding day (2002).

Sisters are forever. Chou and me at a wedding (2003).

17 betrothed

October 1985

Chou wakes up to a red sky outside and wonders if the gods are angry today. Usually in October, the gods thunder relentlessly, turn the clouds black, and blow wind so powerful that brown coconut fruits drop from the trees. Then the skies open and heavy rains soak the ground and flood the lower land. Lately, the gods have been merciful and only wet the land with the morning dew. In the dry season, Chou can rise with the sun to cook the family meals and do her chores. But during the monsoon season, Chou has to get up when the moon is still bright to build a fire out of damp wood. Usually before the family rouses from their sleep, Chou has cooked rice soup and dried everyone’s damp clothes by fanning them over the fire. Sometimes she is so tired that she takes a quick nap in her squatting position next to the fire, but never for too long so she has time to send her family off in warm, dry clothes smelling of smoke.

But the rain gods did not drench the land this night so Chou has been able to sleep in. The red sky is crimson orange when she finally makes her way to the kitchen. Aunt Keang has already made their rice soup. After each member of the family eats a hearty bowl, Kim and all the male cousins leave for school and the elders head for the rice paddies to grow their rice and for the ponds to catch their fish. From her spot leaning over the dirty dishes, Chou watches wistfully as Kim’s figure disappears around the bend in the road.

“Chou,” Aunt Keang says softly, “today is your school day.” Chou’s smile spreads widely.

“Yes,” she says. “I’ll get all my work done before I leave for school.”

Since the school opened three years ago, Chou has dreamed of attending. But eight months before, Aunt Keang gave birth to her seventh healthy child, a baby boy she named Nam. Though the family rejoiced, Chou was not smiling very widely that day because she knew there was yet another baby she’d have to take care of. With her oldest cousin Cheung married with a family of her own, and the next oldest, Hong, busy looking after Amah, Chou is left to take care of the small children and do the chores. However, in Nam’s first few days of life, Chou quickly fell in love with his sweet disposition and neediness. As the children’s caregiver, Chou has to bring Nam everywhere with her while Aunt Keang works on the farm. As much as she loves him, having him attached to her has slowed down her work, leaving her no time to attend school. Then unexpectedly, Aunt Keang decided that Chou could go to school if she took baby Nam with her. Chou has been brimming with happiness ever since.

“No need to worry about washing the clothes today. I’ll do it when I return from the fields. Why don’t you go get our water while I look after the children,” Aunt Keang tells her.

“Thank you, Second Aunt.” Chou watches Aunt Keang with amazement as she scoops her infant son up with one arm while grabbing the hand of another small child running beside her like a baby chick.

Quickly, Chou ties the cows to the wagon and heads off to the pond to collect water. When she returns, Aunt Keang leaves Nam with her and returns to the fields. For the next hour while Nam sleeps, Chou washes the big pile of the family’s dirty clothes and the baby’s diapers. Afterward, she lets him cry in his hammock as she splits the wood for the fire. By the time Kim and the cousins return at half past eleven, Chou has cooked rice and stir-fried leeks and bamboo shoots with fish ready for lunch. After the meal, Aunt Keang and Uncle Lang rest in their hammocks while the young people continue with the housework. When her shadow is directly scrunched under her feet, Chou watches Nam while she scrubs the black pots and dishes and waits excitedly for her turn to go to school. Because there are many more students than teachers or
schools, Khmer classes run two times a day; the morning session runs from seven
A.M.
to eleven
A.M.
, and the afternoon session lasts from one
P.M.
to five
P.M.