finally here!

So...I'm here!!!! I really can"t believe it, but I'm here. Currently, I am sitting in the hotel waiting to go to dinner with my friend Kerri. Before getting here we had the chance to stop by the student house, and got to say hi to one of the girls...if Im lucky Ill get to see Ree and a few others tonight! Other than that, Im just happy to be out of a plane and walking around...even though Im exhausted. As usual it's wicked hot here, but we were lucky enough to get some rain so it cooled off a bit. Well, thats all I have for today, tomorrow we go to the orphanage! :D

It's here!!

Well, I graduated yesterday (I know, I can't believe it either!)...and tomorrow I leave for Cambodia! I'm going to try and blog as much as possible, but before I left I just wanted to ask for your prayers for traveling and my health while I'm there. Thank you everyone for your support this year, and in years past...I can't believe it's finally here!

Almost. There!

Wow! I'm still in awe, and completely shocked. In about 37 days (I think that's it) I'll be in Cambodia! I've gone to the last 2 team meeting, and let me just say: this year is going to be mind-blowing. The team is completely different, and what we're going to be doing is completely different, I'm very happy that I have the chance to be a part of it :)

With that being said, I'm still raising money...I'll be raising support until mid April, so if you are still interested in helping, you can either mail me cash, or a check (made out to Southeastern University), or you can send me money over PayPal (e-mail me at newargo@seu.edu for the info.). I know that there are still people on my team that don't have plane tickets and my prayer right now is that I will raise extra money so that I can give what I have leftover to them. So please, pray for the team as a whole that we will be able to raise the funds that we need. Not only that, but we're going to need school supplies to bring over to teach. We're going to need everything for construction paper (tons of it- we going through paper like crazy), pencils, erasers, stickers, scissors, tape, note card: anything you can think of, we need! Especially prizes for the kids. Last year, we were given simple erasers to go the ends of pencils, they came in various colors and we handed them out the the kids- you would've thought that we had given them a million dollars! Who knew someones face could light up so much at the sight of an eraser?

Well, I'm rambling...sorry about that! But those are my thoughts for the day. Thank you for your support, prayers, thoughts and love!

Full of Awe

Hey friends! I'm very sorry for not updating, but as many of you know I am a magnet for accidents! I went the ER last week as a result of a broken nose and a minor concussion (it's a long, semi-embarrassing story, so message me if you want to hear it!). That being said: I'M GOING BACK TO CAMBODIA! I still need to raise $445.00 for the rest of the trip, but my plane ticket will be purchased.

I can't even begin to explain all of the emotions within me- excitement, awe, fear, love...and everything in between. To be honest I kind of gave up hope in the middle of last week: there was no chance that I was going to get back to Cambodia. It had gotten to a point where I needed to raise $785.00 in a matter of two days- Impossible? I thought so. But I was proven wrong! When I was given the final $300.00 on Wednesday night, to get my plane ticket, I was screaming and crying my eyes out. I could not being to fathom what had occurred, I was simply flabbergasted. For something that I was told was going to be impossible, became a reality. My roommate, Jenna, celebrated with me as the dream became reality.

Days following, I had a chance to Skype with my little sister, and best friend Sopheary from Cambodia. I finally broke the news to her :) A week prior to this conversation, Sopheary called me, and I asked for her to pray for me. I didn't give any details, but I just needed help to do something. Well, as you may guess I needed help deciding if Cambodia was a possibility for the summer. Needless to say, having the chance to tell her that I was coming back, was amazing. Tears, smiles, and laughter were all shed. I can't wait to see her, and the others and have the chance to hold them in my arms once again. Thank you for the support! If you would like to donate, I have a PayPal set up...please e-mail me at newargo@seu.edu and I can give you the info. to donate to my trip. Or, if you prefer sending cash or a check, e-mail me and I can give you that info. as well. Thanks :)

Fears of my heart

I've become very blessed through this whole process and cannot thank everyone enough for their support! I'm learning a lot along the way and one of the biggest things that I've had to deal with is a question that was asked of me a few weeks ago: If I were not a Christian would I still love humanity. Now, I don't denounce my faith in anyway by saying this, but I believe that I would. Many of my friends and family (the majority in fact) do not share the same faith as me and that is something I greatly appreciate. Of course I would love it if everyone thought the same way I did, but I would never grow...and that would be a pretty boring life!

I say all of this because many have been timid to donate towards the trip because it is a Christ-centered one. Honestly, I can understand the timidity, but it doesn't take just a person from that Christian faith to see hurt in the world. People will often hear me talking about "my kids" because that is how I truly see them- they are a part of me. My fear, as or right now, is not being able to raise enough money for the trip- my fear is having all this become possible and given the chance to go back. Am I afraid to ? Of course! It's what keeps me up a night- do I have faith that God is going to protect me? Sure! But I also have this fear that if I go on the trip I won't be focused on what I'm doing: teaching English.

As I've already mentioned to some of you this trip is set up differently then ones I've been on in the past. We'll be at the orphanage I've been going to for a shorter period so that we can bring Southeastern students to different areas in Cambodia to start teaching in other parts. I'm still not sure if I'm strong enough to only spend a few days with my kids- to be in the same country as them, but not be near them. That's my fear, and I know I'll have to face it at some point. Raising money for this trip is one of the hardest (and most inconvenient) things I've had to do this semester. had actually planned on doing nothing and relaxing after graduation. Now, I'm left with the possibility of going to a third world country the weekend I graduate from college.

OH! The wait...

Well, as of right now I still need $785.00 by the end of the week to by my plane ticket to Cambodia. Am I freaking out? Well, yeah just a bit ;) I keep trying to remind myself that whatever the outcome is...it's going to be OK! I had the chance to talk to my little sister Sopheary the other day (yes, the one in Cambodia) and I finally told her what I had been doing- well, she told me not to worry. "Even if you don't raise enough money, that is still in God's will too." Well, let's just say that I've been trying to keep that in mind, but I'm not going to give up! I can't close this door before I even try to open it. So, please continue to spread the word and help me raise support!

Website!!!

I created a website, which is now up and running. Check it out!
www.wix.com/nicollewargo/cambodia-nicollewargo

Can it be done?

Some call me crazy…but I don’t see it that way. God sparked
a fire in my soul once again, and I’m going to try as hard as I possibly can to
return back to the country that stole my heart. It’s February 26th,
and so far I’ve started letting people know that I’m making an attempt to raise
money and go to Cambodia this summer. I’ve sent messages on Facebook, and right
now I’m sitting outside and writing letters to mail to friends and family.
This past week I met with the Dean of the Religion Department
at my school and he told me something that I must not forget: Cambodia is not
going away. Even if this is the “last” time I go to Cambodia with SEU, I know
one day I will return. I have completely given this over to God, and I can’t stand
it! I love to be in control, I love to plan…I love to know what is going to
happen in my life. Going to Cambodia this summer does not fit into my plan. To
be honest, I planned to do absolutely nothing when I returned home in May after
graduation. It’s ridiculous, I know. I had great plans of reading, writing
poetry and planning for grad school…if I go to Cambodia, I won’t have very much
time for that.
I’ve learned over the past few years that I shouldn’t plan
out my life- yet, I can’t help it. I’m sorry for rambling on about this, but
sending letters and trying to raise $1,600 by March 15th is going to
take a miracle. Is my faith in God so deeply rooted that I can trust something
like this to happen? If this doesn’t happen, will I still be able to fall on
Him, and know life will go on; and everything will turn out for the good?
As of right now I’ve raised $80. I guess we’ll have to wait
and see what happens…

Following a Call...

Where to begin? Well, for a very long time I have been struggling with the idea of going back to Cambodia. As most of you know, I graduate in May, and hope to start grad. school sometime within the next year. Last semester I decided that I was not going to go back to Cambodia, and I’m not going to lie…it was something that I had a really hard time with. After going to Cambodia last year I had created this plan where I was going to go to Cambodia long-term. Well, that didn’t work out. And I took that as a sign, that I was not meant to go back to the country at all. Well, this brings me to the reason I am writing you all. This past week I just couldn’t seem to get Cambodia off my mind. I broke down a handful of times because I was so confused as to what I was supposed to this summer. My school is going back to Cambodia from May 5-28. There, they will not only be teaching at the school and orphanage that I’ve been going to for the past two years, but they are also going to teach English in other parts of Cambodia. So, after seeking a lot of guidance, and talking to many people I’ve decided to give it a shot. I can’t get my mind or heart off of my kids. If I do go this summer, it will be the last time I go for a long while. I need to raise a total of $2,500 to go for the three weeks. But if the kicker is, I can only go on the trip if I raise $1,600 by March 15. This is all scary and exciting for me at the same time! The last time I went to Cambodia, as many of you know, I got Dengue Fever and almost died. I’m not being stupid in trying to get back to Cambodia. I truly believe in my heart that the sickness I developed in Cambodia was to hinder me from trying to do any good in this world. After a lot of prayer I feel completely confident that God knows what He’s doing in this. If you can, please prayerfully consider donating money to my last Missions trip to Cambodia with Southeastern University. I now with our economy right now it’s going to be very difficult to raise all this money. Everywhere I look there is a need, and I’m called to help those near me, no matter where I am: whether that be in the US or overseas, everyone deserves a chance at a better life. But I can’t turn my back on these kids, and most of all- I need to make sure that the new students (and the whole team is made up new students) develop the same passion and love for Cambodia that I have so that even after I graduate, Southeastern students are continuing to go back to the beautiful country. I would deeply appreciate it if you would consider giving. All checks can be made out to Nicolle Wargo and sent to: Nicolle Wargo 1000 Longfellow Blvd #1916 Lakeland, FL 33801

Cambodia

I’ve
woken up early again.
The
sun is peeking out over the trees as it is ascending into the sky.
Exhaustion
hits my body with full force.
My
clothes are damp; beads of sweat are already rolling down my face.
This
is not what I signed up for.

I
break my fast with another foreign meal, only to hope that my stomach can withstand
it.
My
lesson plans have vanished and I don’t even know who I’ll be teaching today.
The
day is already taking a toll on me.
When
will it all be over?

I
walk outside, trudging down the street to the school.
From
a distance, the sound of jubilant laughter from children can already be heard.

Today
might not be so bad.
It
might just be one of the best days of my life. It just might be.

AN UNTOUCHABLE DREAM

It’s unbearably hot; the sun’s rays
continue to swell over the small orphanage, trapping everyone under the
protection of the trees. As I walk, I try to lift my eyes off the ground and
slowly look in front of me to be aware of my surroundings. The brightness of
the sun stops this simple act from happening, so I keep my head down almost in
despair. My feet follow the path, one foot in front of the other, all without
my mind registering the actions of my body. I continue trudging towards the
front gate, careful not to step on the plants which are on each side of me.
“Slow down,” he whispers.
It’s as if he’s trying to stop my
departure from happening. Other children surround me, pulling my arms back with
so much force that I somewhat stumble back. I don’t want to leave as much as
they don’t want me to.
Before I know it, we’re in the front
of the orphanage. I still can’t fully register all that’s about to happen, but
it’s difficult to miss the crowd of kids crying and hanging onto my other team
members.
“Don’t cry.” I say to myself. I
still can’t bring my face to look up, for there are too many tears rolling down
my face; and I can’t show my hurt in
front of these kids, whom I’ve given my heart to.
My throat tightens, and my heart
rate speeds up as I turn my back to the group of children surrounding me, watching
as people start to pile into the van. It’s time to go home.
I pick up my right foot and bring it
in front of me, as if to walk, but a little tug on my hand causes me to retreat
and turn around. It wasn’t a very forceful pull, but something leaps in my
heart and whispers in my ear, willing me to turn around.
I slightly turn my body to the right,
but I don’t see anyone, yet I feel it again. This time I look down to a pair of
large, chocolate orbs staring up at me. It was him. As much as I didn’t want to say goodbye, I had to. I faintly
hear my name being called out, but I can’t un-focus my eyes nor thoughts on
anyone else but Luka. Those deep eyes of his continue to penetrate my soul and
smile up at me.
“What if…what if, I just picked him
up, and brought him home?” I ask myself in a low, somber voice. I can’t bring
myself to leave him here. He doesn’t have a mommy and daddy to hug him and tell
him that they love him or that everything’s going to be okay. I can be his mom, dad, sister, brother
and everyone in between.
I can just imagine it; it’s so real.

I walk off the plane, weary from my
travels. I’m finally home. The frail, tiny bundle I carry in my arms slows down
my walking. I follow a crowd of people to baggage claim, too tired to think and
find my way around the large airport by myself.
My pace picks up speed as I pass by
coffee shops, and restaurants which are just closing for the night; I can see
the escalator ahead. My body trembles from sadness, knowing that my journey is
over. It’s as if my entire being realizes that I’m finally home.
As I step down onto the moving
stairs, I’m careful not to drop the sleeping child in my arms. I can only
imagine how tired he must be. He’s never traveled outside of Cambodia, or his
small town for that matter. I lift my right foot off of the ground, and place
it onto the first step I spy. The small child cradled in my arms, and I are
carried down to the next level. As I’m taken down to the next floor I lift up
my head to try and get a better view of the people waiting at the bottom.
They’re not easy to miss. It’s a
large crowd of familiar faces full of smiles, awaiting the prize that I bring
back from another world. The sun is starting to rise and its rays shine through
the windows, into my eyes. I can’t help but smile, for my life is about to
change forever.
As soon as my feet hit the final
step, my family and friends rush over to me. Luka stirs in my arms from all of
the commotion. It’s difficult for the average American to know that I’m not
carrying a small toddler, but a seven year old boy. His Asian body is so small
that he fits perfectly into my arms. I like to think that it’s God’s way of
showing me that He created us to be in each other’s lives.
Before I know it, loved ones are
peaking into my arms to catch a glimpse of this mysterious boy. The loud voices
quickly wake Luka up from his slumber. He looks around with confused eyes,
worried because he’s in an unfamiliar place.
“Neecolles,”
he says in a quiet and thick Cambodian accent.
“I’m right here, Luka.” He picks up
his head to make sure I am the one holding him. Once his eyes confirm what he
sees, a bright smile appears across his face.
“I love you, Neecolles.” With the few words that he knows in English, he is able
to warm my heart. This just happens to be my favorite phrase.
In that moment, I have no idea what
my family is doing, or even saying for that matter. For all of my attention is
focused on Luka. Before I know it, I’m being moved outside and into my mom’s
car. The cool wind hits my face as I walk through the automatic doors. It’s a
relief to finally be out of the humid, heavy weather of Cambodia-- I can
finally breathe!
Minutes seem to go by, and the car
pulls in front of my house. I’m the first to step out of the car and smell the
crisp air. Fall will be coming soon. I turn back around to the open car door;
Luka’s arms are held out, waiting for me to pick him up. That’s exactly what I
do, bringing him and I to the entrance of his new home.
As I walk through the front doors,
excitement and anticipation can be felt from my family members, especially my
mom. She’s so jubilant because there will finally be a young person in our
house again. Her children have all grown
up, and she’s longing to have the joys of another child running through her
home again.
Luka starts to shiver as I walk
through the house. I had forgotten how cool it can get this time of year, and
he won’t be used to it yet. What is refreshing for me might be frigid to him.
My two dogs come running from the
kitchen and into the hallway, where they’re standing to greet me. They run to
me and try to jump into my arms, but they see someone is already occupying
them. I look down at Luka, to see what he thinks of them…and he seems confused.
“It’s OK,” I try to explain. “They
live in the house…they’re pets. You know?”
I had forgotten that animals don’t
live in people’s homes in Cambodia, even if they are labeled as a “pet.” It’s
more important to take care of yourself rather than an animal, for people don’t
have the luxury to take care of things which aren’t important.
We finally step away from hallway,
as my mom looks at Luke, still in my arms.
“Nick, he must be exhausted. Are you
hungry? Should he eat before he goes to sleep?” She asks.
My family takes it upon themselves
to move into the dining room to eat. As this happens, my mom’s smile becomes
larger and larger. Luka is about to have his first meal in America. I go to my
regular seat, to the right of my father who sits at the head of the table. I
sit Luka down into the empty seat next to me. He rubs his eyes, as they try to
stay open. My mom sets a plate of spaghetti in front of him, and the family
waits in anticipation only to watch Luka do nothing. The look on his face is
closer to distress than excitement, as if something vital was missing from the
table.
“Well, isn’t he hungry?” my brother
asks in a confused tone.
That’s when it hits me. There’s no
spoon for him to use, and he only ever eats rice.
“Sorry, sorry. I will teach you,” I
explain to Luka. I proceed to pick up the awkward tool that he’s never used
before in my right hand. I reach over to his plate and try to show him the
motion of how to pick up food with his fork. He reads my every motion, studying
me as I twirl the spaghetti with my fork between my fingers.
It’s Luka’s turn. He takes his fork
out of my hands and places it into his, just as he saw me do. He begins to use
his little fingers to spin the fork, only to have it drop into his plate. He
looks upset, on the verge of crying. He tries to copy my motions over and over
again, only to fail.
“It’s OK, you do good.” I say still
using the broken English which came so easily to me in Cambodia.
“Mom, I think it’s time for Luka to go
to sleep. He seems too tired.” I say to my mother as a look of understanding
spreads across her face. Her eyes soften as she watches me pick Luka up and
walk towards the stairs.
“Ready to see your room?” I ask,
knowing that he really doesn’t understand what I’m saying, but he still nods
and a beautiful smile breaks across his face. I walk him upstairs and turn to
the right, bringing him to his bedroom. As I open the door, I’m not surprised
to find it already set up, thanks to my mother.
I walk towards the bed and set Luka
on the bed gently. After putting him into brand new clothes, and saying a
prayer, he falls asleep instantly. I find my own body being overwhelmed with
weariness too. I walk out of Luka’s room, closing his door, and go across the
hall into my room. I leave my door cracked open, so that I can hear him if he
wakes up in the night.
Before I know it, I find myself in
my own bed falling asleep. I don’t bother changing out of my clothes; I’m too
tired to do practically anything. My mind and body are finally relaxed after a
full twenty-seven hours of traveling.
I sleep for what seems like days, but
that’s not what my alarm clock tells me when I wake up. The bright red letters,
read 2:00 AM. I have only been asleep for a few hours. My mind automatically
goes to the little boy across the hall from me. In an instant I get up out of bed
to check on Luka. I walk across the hall, and open his door slightly, careful
to be quiet so that I don’t wake him up.
Panic strikes my body when I see
that Luka’s bed is empty. I step into the center of the small room and look
around.
“Where is he?!” I ask myself, still
searching around the room, as my nerves get the best of me. That’s when I hear
a quiet, breathing coming from the corner of the room. Luka was curled up in
the corner soundly asleep. He seems extremely peaceful and content being on the
hard wood floor, pushed up against the wall. Why didn’t it cross my mind that
Luka’s never slept in a bed before? Back in the orphanage he was accustomed to
sleeping on a bamboo matt and next other people. It seems that there are many
things that Luka isn’t accustomed to, that I keep forgetting about.
“Will
it always be like this?” I ask myself. I
continue to sit in Luka’s room to collect my thoughts and ponder our future.
Soon he will have to go to school, but he can’t speak English. How will that be
for him? He won’t be in a “normal” classroom, and able to make “normal” friends
like everyone else. What will happen to him once it starts getting colder
outside? Will his body be able to handle it? Or, what will happen when he wakes
up in the morning wanting to eat rice for breakfast and my mom serves him
scrambled eggs? Questions about Luka’s future raced through my mind.
“My country will just end up being
the corruption to everything Luka is. He’d probably grow up not appreciating as
much, and taking many things in life for granted. He will become a boy more
foreign to me than he is now. His innocence will be taken away from him,” I
tell myself in the dark, quiet room.

I take a few more steps, getting
closer to the van. Luka’s still holding onto my hand. As we walk, he wraps his limbs
around my arms, as if to hug them. Our steps become slower and smaller. The sun
continues to beat down on us from above, but I’m perfectly fine with Luka
hanging onto to me. The closeness of his body actually comforts me.
I walk over to the side of the van
and take in what seems to be one last deep breathe, making sure I get as much
of Cambodia into me as possible. I bend down, kneeling, so that I am on Luka’s
level.
He smiles at me, and stares at my
face. I stare back. It’s as if we’re playing a game with each other, a game
that only the two of us play, a game of memorizing each other’s faces; so that
we might hold them into our memory for as long as possible.
“I love you, Neecolles,” he reminds me. “I see you again?”
I don’t know how to answer his
simple question, but a burning desire in my heart tells me to say yes. Even
though it’s not an Asian custom, I reach my arms around his body, and envelope
him into a hug. To my very surprise, he hugs me back, as if it were the most
natural reaction.
I finally turn around and step into
the van, which is holding the rest of my team. Everything is quiet except for
the noises of the kids screaming goodbye outside. We back up out of the
driveway, and into the street. The car proceeds down the road, making our way
to the airport. That’s when I hear the unmistakable sound of weeping. To my
surprise the person I’m hearing is myself.
The tears that run down my face aren’t of hurt, despair
or discouragement, but of hope. Hope that Luka will always be the same little
boy that stole my heart in a tiny orphanage in Sihanoukville, Cambodia, and
that nothing or anyone will ever change who he is. For, his customs are
intertwined within his person. That’s why I love him so.