I will admit that while there have been plenty of times of missing people, places, foods and the ways of doing things back home, I had yet to grow tired of Cambodia. Perhaps because of Covid my culture shock curve is doing strange things, but I continue to wake up every day amazed that I’m here and that we get to be part of this amazing work. I sometimes get a bit tired of constantly learning and I definitely get tired of stale city air and trash on the streets, but the people are just wonderful, and the work is meaningful and our supervisors are supportive and I am just so glad to have this opportunity.

But two weeks ago I hit a culture fatigue moment and I realized just how long it’s been since I’ve been in a really familiar setting. It was mid-afternoon and Catherine was playing in the wash basin outside while I cooked dinner. The neighbor dog was running around the street while our dog Leena was in the courtyard, sleeping in the sun. I heard Catherine calling me that it was an emergency. I went running out and she said that the neighbor dog had tried to get under the gate. The neighbor dog has been aggressive toward Leena in the past, but the neighbor dog isn’t small and the space under our gate is only about 6 inches. But Leena was up and pacing the gate, alert. A young Cambodian man was outside, holding a handful of mangos and meandering along the street.

I stayed outside for a bit, watering the plants and playing with Catherine when all of a sudden the neighbor dog came back and pressed herself against the gate in a fearful posture. Our neighbors were away for the day and they had left her out, but why would she be near our gate? The young man with the mangos was smiling and standing at a distance, attention on her. Suddenly he moved toward her and she stuck her head and neck under our gate and Leena immediately bit down on her neck. Leena is a pit bull. She has a strong and solid bite and would not release, despite the neighbor dog biting her paws. The neighbor dog was stuck – too big to push her whole body under our gate and her head held firm by Leena’s jaws. The man ran away as I screamed for help and tried to separate the dogs. I remembered what a Cambodian staff had told me about using water and I turned the hose on full force and sprayed Leena right in the face, hoping to make her release so the neighbor dog could go free. Finally, with the long, hard nozzle of the hose right at her teeth, Leena released. The neighbor dog pulled back through the gate and ran away.

Adrenaline left me pacing the yard and house. Leena was quiet and withdrew. She had no serious injuries but wanted to get away from the hose of water. Thoughts flew through my head. What was that man doing to scare the neighbor dog into trying to enter our gate? Why are many Cambodians so tender with plants and so unkind to animals? Why did our neighbors leave the dog out when they went away? What would have happened if the dog had gotten into our yard and Leena hadn’t been here – would the dog have bitten Catherine? The neighbor dog has snarled at the girls during our walks.

And in that moment, I felt the weariness of the many, chronic crisis that we live through. We can hear street dogs fighting many nights of the week and I am tired of it. I’m tired of things being unpredictable and of having to watch for danger to my kids (I know, that would be the case anywhere). I’m tired of swatting mosquitos and of sweeping every day to get the dust and mango pollen off of everything in and outside the house. I still love Cambodia, but I am a bit tired, and I could use a break from never really knowing what is going on and always having to interpret before responding.

We are planning to take our first long delayed home leave this summer.