Dinner with the Sisters

Possibly the best night of the trip was when my Aunt Lulie and Sister Regina invited us to share a meal at their charming Phnom Penh home. As Harry put it, "I never knew a dinner with nuns could be so much fun."

I could see how you can live your whole life without marrying when you have a family of sisters like this. Relaxing on the breezy terrace, each of them shared what had gone on during the day in their respective projects. Sister Mary shared her frustrations at the impenetrable database that had been created for her Little Folks program for children affected by HIV. Sister Len talked about an intense session training active listening that brought up painful stories from the participants. There is a lot of pain in this country's history.

Lulie had prepared a tasty cabbage salad, ratatouille and cake, quite a change from our new Cambodian diet of amok, curry and fresh fruit shakes. Over the meal we talked seriously about world issues, and fell inevitably into laughter. When we discussed family planning and gay marriage and I found these Catholic women supported both I had to ask, "What do you think about what the pope says?" Neither Harry and I expected the response: a collective snort of laughter. Finally, Sister Len said, "With a grain of salt!" As they explained, out here in Cambodia, the pope doesn't much notice what's happening and they prefer it that way.

Sister Helene and Sister Regina let us laugh at their expense with their city slickers tale. Coming from New York and Chicago, they were astonished to see the livestock that creeps, prances and hops through Cambodia's roads. They were surprised to find cows come up higher than your hips. After all, you can't see how big they are in those picture books. Crates of chicks and bulls pulling ploughs seemed right out of a storybook. The greatest shock came from the dairy cows. Regina and Helene couldn't understand why the visiting dairy farmers were so preoccupied with caring for calves. You don't need calves, right, just adult cows? Both believed up until that day, just two years ago, that cows graciously produced milk expressly for humans. What a shock to find they were taking the milk from a needy calf! They had a good laugh about their innocence.

When the night guard arrived at 8, Lulie had to shoe us out for bedtime. As I was graciously kicked out of their happy home, I noticed I'd never felt so welcome. Thank you, to all of the sisters who made us feel at home.