A couple of nights ago I had the honor and the pleasure to share my passion and journey from starvation to satisfaction! Even though I didnt qualify and win speech of the evening at Toastmasters...its the substance in my speech that I hope will carry it into many other platforms. As I find ways to better my products in Cambodian Cajun Crawfish, Chads specialty sauces, and my IG @battambongbob. Thank you all for always adding your comments and your Likes I hope that I am not alone in trying to Preserve & Promote Cambodian Culinary Arts! Here is my story: Thank you Madam or Mr. Toastmasters, Good evening fellow Toastmasters and Guests, A couple of weeks ago I had the honor of hosting the speech-a-thon. I am going to continue my speech series of The Taste Of Freedom! My palate for freedom began at a very young age. It all started as a little boy in my hometown in Dontear Cambodia. One of the most influential people in my life is my late grandparent. They are the ones that introduce and inspired my palate to so many different types of food. They were simple country people that sold street food along the village in the 1960s and early 1970s. Also, the number one person whom I idolize was my father. My father was a hard worker as a young man. I remember when I was 3 or 4 years old. He would put me on his shoulders, and we would go to the countryside and pick sluk knao. We would bring it back to my mom, and she would make somlaw majuy srei. When the monsoons season came, my father, uncles, and grandfather would take me to the rice patties to catch frogs, eels, crab, and snails for dinner. I would learn to identify different types of fishes, crustaceans, and mushrooms. We would take it back home to my mom, aunts, and grandmother. They would make delicious meals out of them. As a young boy, I would learn how to always stay around the stove area. I would learn and remember certain dishes that required certain types of herbs and spices. My mom or grandmother would ask me to go to the garden or along the riverbank and gather up these herbs and vegetables. I would pick leaves, logan, jackfruit, mangos, and tamarinds and so on. It didnt matter if we were poor or not, weve always feed our family by fishing, farming, and foraging through the jungles. When the communist party overthrew Lon Nols government, they killed the educated and skilled. They would starve us, and give us small rations of rice and salt. If we were lucky, we would get some dried fish with rice porridge. My family would sacrifice and sneak into the night and look for food. They would put their lives in danger, just to get a small amount of rice to feed the kids. In 1976, one of the most awful and most vivid memory that I have as a child was watching my mom cried at our doorstep...she cried lifelessly that they killed my father. I did not know what to do as a 5 year old, but to hug and hold my siblings on the steps. That was the day…that the world ended for us. My father gone, my mom went into depression. I had to do whatever it took to feed my family. I would go into the jungles with my machete to look for mangos, tamarind, and whatever I could find. The communist government didnt really pay attention to us when we were that small. I would hide whatever I could find and bring it back home. When they ration the rice porridge and dried fish, I would sneak under the table to eat the leftover bones of the fish to stay alive. I was so hungry; I try and work my small little teeth into the crevasse to get whatever meat or nutrients I could find. This went on until 1979. The Viet Cong’s communist party replaced the Pol Pot communist regime. A massive starvation was coming once again. The Vietnamese Communist government decline UN Aid intentionally, so they can starve more Cambodians and send them to their demise. After that we made one of the most grueling journeys on foot to the refugee camps. There we would live off of sardines and rice as rations by the UN at the refugee camps. Again, my mom would sneak out and smuggle food and merchandise into the camp to survive. She got remarried to my stepdad at the camp. We lived with Tommy and Michaels family for more than 3 years in Long Beach. Tommy and Michaels parents worked at the restaurant, my stepdad went to school, and my mom was a CNA. Freedom meant that there is more hardship and new challenges again and again. What had kept us alive was the determination and perseverance to provide food on the table and to always make the most out of nothing. No matter how hard life got, we all want the taste of freedom! It may come in different shapes or form, but the main entree is freedom...sides of equality, dignity, and respect. The hardship that Ive endured makes my heart and soul want the best ingredients and recipes for my familys success. Working from 6am-3pm, then off to another surgery center, medical rep jobs, then my crawfish and sauce business. I wont give up! I will never give up! My father gave up his life so my mom, brother, sister, and I could live. The millions of Cambodians that died, got murder, and starve to death. I have tasted freedom my friends, and I want some more. Gather your ingredients and recipes for success and put it in lifes basket. Start with an entrée of freedom, toss it with determination, mix it with respect, carve it with perseverance, add a slice of dignity, and sprinkle on top with the will to strive and survive! When you go through any kind of physical or mental starvation...you can put your recipe together and succeed! You will then find those like yourself, sitting at the table of sisterhood and brotherhood of life!
Posted on: Thu, 06 Mar 2014 03:30:31 +0000
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