I went to Cambodia with the intention of giving, but it gave me so much more in return.
Christmas 2024 season has been unlike any other for me. No frantic dashes to Westfield, no endless shopping lists. In fact, as I write this, my Christmas shopping remains unfinished.
Instead, my end of November and early December were spent on a two-week volunteering trip to Cambodia—a trip that shifted something deep within me.
It wasn’t my first time in Cambodia. I visited 20 years ago, but that experience was overshadowed by a bout of dysentery that left its mark on my memories. This time, I returned not as a tourist, but as a volunteer, alongside two old school friends and 30 strangers, working with a small, non-government-funded agricultural charity.
I’ve travelled and lived extensively—Europe, Africa, India, Nepal, the Americas, and Southeast Asia. Third-world countries have always drawn me in with their rawness and authenticity. But this trip was different. It cracked me open in a way I wasn’t prepared for, and I’m still trying to process it.
Our group was an eclectic mix—from 18-year-olds choosing to spend their schoolies doing something meaningful, to a man in his mid-70s, travelling with his daughter after turning his life around. We had urbanites, farmers, and everyone in between, united by a shared mission. I forged deep bonds with people I never thought I would connect with, challenging and dismantling preconceived notions I hadn’t even realised I held. It’s humbling to admit I ever had them.
In just two weeks, we worked on farms, built houses and duck pens, delivered cows to women in the poorest communities, and distributed rice to displaced villages. We visited schools, provided meals, and created art with the children. We meditated and chanted with Buddhist monks at night, attended a village wedding, witnessed a pig giving birth, and danced on the back of trucks in the red dust of impoverished communities. We celebrated a housewarming, rode tractors and dusty bikes, and I had deep conversations with both Aussies and Cambodians—people far removed from the corporate world. And yes, we also had our share of fun—beers, nightclubs, and a few sore heads in the mornings.
Since returning, I’ve been overwhelmed by emotions I didn’t expect. You can’t unsee, unhear, or unknow. My heart aches. The pull to return is strong because what I found there was a bubble of pure generosity, kindness, and acceptance.
For two weeks, titles and appearances didn’t matter—the relentless heat and humidity made makeup and deodorant futile anyway. It was raw, unfiltered, and filled with vulnerability. I left behind the labels that define me—business owner, recruiter, manager, wife, mum, daughter—and immersed myself in a world of humanity, compassion, and connection, so far removed from corporate life and the city’s hustle.
In the midst of dust, sweat, and exhaustion, I rediscovered something I didn’t even realise I’d lost—something I still can’t quite put into words.
I know I’ll continue to process this experience, and in time, more lessons will emerge. Together with the incredible people I met on this journey, we’ll navigate the emotions and meaning of it all.
I went to Cambodia with the intention of giving, but it gave me so much more in return.
My deepest wish this Christmas is that you experience a moment that moves you so profoundly that you simply can’t go back. Where the pull for non-reciprocated kindness, compassion, and raw connection is so strong that it forges your path forward.
It’s been a pleasure connecting with you this year. I hope my words have, in some way, added value to your journey.
Merry Christmas to you and your family. May you find the time to give and receive unreciprocated kindness—the ultimate gift.
