I am sitting here in a thatched bungalow in Kampot, it’s pouring with rain and I can honestly say I’m loving life. I’m totally and completely absorbed in the moment. Rogue raindrops splash down my screen, blurring my words but I can only look around me at the gullies of water collecting on the pathways of the garden and marvel at the thunder rolling across the expanse. It’s been a freaking hard few months living in my mind, but today I can actually say I’ve found home.  The last week I’ve been touched, challenged, inspired, confronted and reassured. Epic has lived up to it’s name. Last weekend we hosted the band “Dengue Fever” at the centre. The moment for me was when Chok (www.chokfullofgoodness.com) got up on stage with the lead singer and they sung together. It was magic. For someone whose family don’t have the capacity to see his capacity, Epic has become his community and his vehicle for self expression. It was a beautiful culmination of inclusion.

Another moment was Thursday morning at Yoga. Jos from Bodhi Villa runs a yoga session before work on Thurdays for the Epic community. This week Sok joined in. Lying on his rattan mat, consumed with spasticity he extended his limbs and touched his toes with us, giggling infectiously the whole time. I love that kid so much, he and his mum are so poor of material goods, but he has the richest spirit of anyone I know and spurs me on everyday day.

Then on Thursday night, I was invited to the birthday party of Sariya, the 3 year old daughter of Epic’s old tuk tuk driver/classroom assistant. There were prawn skewers, curry, plenty of beer, khmer songs played on guitar, Lilly Allen remixes pumped until the house shook, cream laden cake, sparklers and plenty of dancing. But what got me right in the core of my being was the parents of children in our special ed classes. Channy is a teaching assistant with a daughter with a severe and profound disability. Her daughter, Socheata is unable to care for herself, does not have a formal means of communication, still wears nappies, drools and is carried everywhere. I watched her parents that night, lovingly picking up her long frame and dancing with her, delighting in her smiles and refusing to give up despite her lack of eye contact. I watched her younger sister wipe away her drool with a towel with pride not a sense of burden. It was so powerful in the context of disability stigma in Cambodia, let alone the rest of the world!

Then there is Kagna and Bunteang who adore their dear little boy Rattanak, who experience Down Syndrome. Cheeky, independent and simply delicious, Rattanak is doted on by his parents and the entire community.  Check out this video from a year ago about the Special Education Program http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1mw9m_b0B3E