Two stories, one journey: Reflections from Kampot
From 26 February to 1 March 2026, Jesuit Refugee Service (JRS) Singapore led a 4-day Social Mission Trip to Kampot, Cambodia, in partnership with Jesuit Refugee Service Asia Pacific and Jesuit Service Cambodia. Grounded in care for people and creation, volunteers supported vulnerable coastal communities facing climate-related displacement. The trip deepened awareness that those least responsible for climate change are often most affected, and invited participants to respond with solidarity, hope, and care for our common home. Two young volunteers, Nicole Angelina and Regina Vanda, share their reflections.
Nicole Angelina
Rooted in hope: Ecology and encounter in Cambodia
In February, as many of us gathered with family and friends to celebrate Lunar New Year, I was also preparing my heart for the season of Lent in a different way, through a mission trip to Kampot with the JRS Singapore. What began as a desire to learn became a deeply personal encounter that deepened my sense of responsibility toward others and our world.
One of the key aspects of the trip was participating in the ecology programme. I had hoped to better understand climate change not just in theory, but as a lived reality.
In Kampot, this became strikingly clear. Local communities shared how environmental degradation and shifting climate patterns directly affect their livelihoods and sense of security. I learned that forest ecosystems are not just natural resources, but lifelines. Efforts like mangrove restoration are critical, offering protection against erosion and extreme weather, while sustaining local economies. Witnessing these initiatives firsthand underscored the urgency of caring for our common home, particularly for those most vulnerable to environmental changes.
We also spent time with JRS Cambodia, where we listened to the stories of refugees. These encounters were both sobering and deeply humanising. One refugee shared his journey from Sri Lanka, where he had been part of the Tamil Tigers (Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam) during a long period of conflict. Now stateless, he has spent over two decades seeking asylum in Cambodia. His story, like many others, revealed the complex realities behind the term “refugee” — realities shaped by loss, displacement, and uncertainty, but also marked by resilience, dignity, and hope. Beyond headlines and labels, these are individuals whose lives continue to unfold with courage despite immense challenges.
Our final visit was to the Missionaries of Charity, where the sisters care for more than 50 residents living with disabilities and chronic illnesses. Many of these residents were either abandoned by their families or found on the streets. Here, I encountered another form of displacement, not caused by war or climate, but by rejection and neglect.
This mission trip is a powerful reminder that being born in Singapore where our basic needs like food, water and shelter are largely met, is a privilege in itself. The simple realities I sometimes take for granted — a stable home, family, as well as a safe and predictable environment — are profound gifts.
Post-mission trip, I carry with me a renewed commitment to serve, however small my efforts may seem. The call to care for our common home cannot be separated from the call to care for one another, particularly for the poor, the displaced, and the forgotten. This mission has reminded me that solidarity begins with seeing, listening, and responding, with both compassion and action.
Regina Vanda
Nurturing Hope in Fraternal Love
I joined the Cambodia trip hoping to accompany and to learn. Before going, I wrestled with whether it was truly “worth it” because of the financial cost, the carbon emissions of flying, and the moral ambiguity of short-term mission trips that can sometimes be more self-serving for participants than a genuine help to local communities. But I held onto a simple hope: that being present, listening in love, might be enough.
Those doubts ease as Phan Chanda explained the Jesuit Service Community Ecology Programme. Our four days of mangrove planting were part of a much longer, community-led effort across Cambodia. The programme begins by listening — communities know their needs, what to plant, and how to care for their land. Its role is to empower and support the community with what they need.
Louie Bacomo helped me see how ecology and Jesuit Refugee Service are linked. The goal is not simply more trees, but stronger communities able to remain on their land with dignity. Reforestation restores not only forests but relationships as communities gather, organise, and reclaim stewardship of their land. Trees teach patience and perseverance — they grow slowly, inviting us to hope long-term and root ourselves in something deeper.
For me, this hope was tested during our stay at the Cambodia Country Club. The comfort and excess unsettled me. It felt contrary to the desire for simplicity and solidarity the trip had stirred in me. I thought of the Parable of the Sower: seeds can be scorched or choked when roots are shallow. I realised my discomfort also revealed something about myself. I had welcomed the mission enthusiastically, but without deep roots of understanding. I knew little about the reality that my brothers and sisters face every day. So I was still easily unsettled by the fleeting feelings of different experiences in the trip and missing the grounded fraternity that needs to be forged over time.
Later, planting mangroves in the mud became a prayer. Digging holes with our hands and placing each sapling into the earth was an act of hope and faith. Hope for the land, the people who live there, and a future we may never see. As Chanda said, “What we do here, we do for the whole world.”
Many Asia Pacific communities face forced displacements from climate change, conflict, persecution, unjust development, loss of livelihoods and insecurity. Speaking with refugees and asylum seekers in Phnom Penh, I saw how deeply these wounds affect human dignity. Yet I was inspired by how JRS accompanies the most vulnerable — honouring their agency, listening deeply, journeying with them to help advocate for actions to tackle the concerns in solidarity and to discern the way forward.
During the mission reflection, Louie offered two images from nature. First was photosynthesis: carbon dioxide is transformed into oxygen, something harmful turned life-giving. This challenged me to ask how I might help transform hurt, fear, or division into healing for others.
Second was carrying capacity: healthier ecosystems — and communities — can sustain more life. It is in fraternity that we have more capacity to share and care for one another in every need. This is the vision that the mission should ultimately witness to.
I left the trip with this conviction: love is stronger than the forces that diminish and destroy life. Small acts of solidarity — planting a sapling, listening deeply, standing together — participate in a love that heals, renew and make whole. Hope grows quietly, rooted in fraternity, sustained by patience, and made fruitful by love.