Carina Zinkeisen - Sari's Story

Sari smiled.

"I love you too, Jay," she said softly and hung up.

It was a lie and she started to cry softly.

He looked really damn good, like a Bollywood actor, no comparison to his cousin Vichay, her sister Sreykouch's husband, who was nothing at all for Sari. Jay was just perfect, but she didn't love him, not even remotely.

Not even remotely.

Crying, she looked at the engagement dress hanging from a hanger on the curtain rod at the window. Like its two predecessors typical Cambodian, beautiful, heavy fabric, good quality, colorful, but unfortunately too much for her taste. She simply could not stand these traditional Cambodian, terribly pompous wedding celebrations, where the couples got into debt.

"Sari, Sis?"

Sari slowly straightened up.

„Sari, Sis?“

Sari slowly straightened up.

"Simay," she said lamely, looking at her youngest sister, who was wearing black leggings and an equally dark shirt, and straightened up a little.

"That Ma always has to make such a fuss about engagements and weddings. This kitschy monster down in the hall, which is melting away, has caused a choking sensation in me, just like the dress there on the pole and my own, puke-green. I hate clothes. When will you finally get Ma to see that this has no style at all," Simay said with a grin and sat down at Sari's bedside.

"I would love to go back to Phnom Penh immediately or Paris, London, New York, as far away as possible. What does Jay actually say about this?"

"He would take me even without engagement and wedding," Sari said quietly.

"And you, what about you, what do you want", asked Simay, who was now sitting on Saris bed with her legs crossed.

"I would rather not marry him or any other man. Not at all," Sari said violently and sat up as well. "But that is utopia, Simay, absolute utopia, we cannot live like this. Not here, not in Cambodia, not in our position as the leading daughters of a leading family."

Sari swallowed bitterly and thought of Sarah in Phnom Penh, the love for her and the painful separation that had gone from herself, because she was afraid that Sreykouch, with whom she shared a room in those times in Phnom Penh, would tell it their mom. She had never seen Sarah again and did not know what had become of her. Whether she still lived in Cambodia or had gone back to England.

"I'm going to get dressed now and you should too. The party must begin. Before the cake is no longer edible. Jay will be there soon, too. He is looking forward to the Khmer barbecue tonight. He is a good man, my Jay, he should show up here any moment, together with Vichay and our sister," she said very quietly and got up.

"Come on, Sim, let's play their game, even if it's not ours, let's go downstairs," she said grimly, and Simay also stood up reluctantly.

Caroline took a deep breath.

Soon she would be teaching German and English in Cambodia, leaving Munich behind. Yet only six months ago she had sworn that she would never set a foot in a classroom again. The memories of her unsuccessful clerkship still tortured her. Especiallly of Tobi, who had cheated on her with Miss "I'll spread my legs for every guy at the university", Saskia, when she was already in an awful state because of the bad marks she got during her traineeship.

Cheap bitch, thought Caroline and rummaged through her handbag.

Only that it didn't hurt anymore, strangely enough, it did not hurt at all. Not like the stupid traineeship that she had completely ruined and stopped because of all that bad marks she got. Not as much as the fact that Myriam wanted to marry in summer. Myriam, her best friend, Myriam, whom she had once even almost kissed at a party at university.

Strangely enough she had to think of Myriam right now and had those odd butterflies in her stomach again. Butterflies that she had never really had with Tobi, strangely enough.

Never.

Only with Myri and Mrs. Becker, her gymnastic teacher in the eighth grade, but everyone had raved about her, because she was young, cool and friendly. And drop-dead gorgeous, as Caro had found back then.

Liar, you forget Dr. Hallström and your soft knees in her lectures, her inner voice echoed almost painfully in her head and made her feel uncomfortable.

Very uncomfortable.

.

"What do I envy you, great weather, delicous food, beautiful temples, the beach in Sihanoukville is also supposed to be magical according to the photos from the net, unfortunately we have never been there and finally you will see dad again", she was tored by the voice of her sister from her thoughts that confused her so much and she was grateful.

Caroline smiled slightly. Her father had emigrated to Cambodia after her mother's death five years ago and worked there as a teacher for German and English at a private school.

"I'm really looking forward to that, too. He says that the kids in Cambodia are much better to handle than the pubescent snotty kids in Augsburg. He trusts me, I hope..."

Caroline broke off in the middle of the sentence and looked doubtfully at her sister Nadja, who had taken her to the airport and helped her at the check in. "You have to come with me, Sis, I can't do this without you. So far away. I can't do it, really."

"Yes, you can, you've checked your ticket, cell phone and passport a thousand times, now chill. Unfortunately I have to go now, the office is calling, they won't get anything done without me. Really, and say hello to Dad from me, I'll visit you, because then I'll see him not only at Christmas, you can bet your life on it. Give me a hug!"

Caroline took a deep breath, listening to the gong, which just finished not only her lesson, but also the school lessons of the day. Back in Augsburg, she could hardly wait for the gong, finally the lesson was over, the torture, the Argus eyes of Mrs. Michel, who wrote down every mistake in shorthand and rubbed it in her face with the message that she was not good enough at all as a teacher.

Her sweaty hands.

But here, as Nadja had told her at the airport, things were totally relaxed. The children, calm and well-behaved, hanging on her lips, eagerly reciting vocabulary. Now they passed her with a partly still shy smile and Caroline smiled slightly at her father, who had followed her lesson from the last row of benches.

Her hands were dry despite the sultry temperature that distinguished this classroom from the one in Augsburg and that made her brown curls stick to her forehead.

Strangely dry.

Her father smiled broadly.

"You were really good, Caro, respect. That Mrs. Michel must have been a real knockout."

He took her in his arms. She hadn't seen him this happy since Mom died five years ago.

She smiled back just as broadly.

"Will you take me out again, tonight, the food yesterday in the Khmer Kitchen was really delicious," she asked.

Her father shook his head regretfully.

"Not tonight, dear," he gloated over her disappointed expression, let go of her and added mischievously.

"I have something much better to do, you will meet friends of mine today, students, good students. Some of the girls are about your age, you will like them. One of the most respected families in Cambodia apart from the royal family. You will especially love Sari. She is my best student. She speaks almost perfect German and English. A wonderful young woman."

Caroline had quickly put on a pretty dress in the apartment her father had rented, which she was now happy about, because the private house her father had taken her to was tastefully furnished in the typical colonial style. Its inhabitants were extremely well dressed. The lady of the house, whom her father had introduced to her as Rani, a somewhat plump but still beautiful middle-aged woman in a noble costume and expensive heels, even had a maid. This one immediately served them coffee with sweet, very thick condensed milk, which Caroline found much too sweet and drank in small sips. A typical Cambodian coffee specialty, she was told.