In Search of the Irrawaddy

Looking back, looking forward, and some photos of Vietnam

It's been very strange for me to come back to the States. I was more than ready to return; the holidays still hit me head on and I'm still a bit jarred by huge grocery stores and the ability to eavesdrop on people speaking my native language. I really feel as though I learned what I could live with, and also what I could live without. (That list just gets longer and longer and longer).

Also, it's interesting to look back at my photos and to think of all the portraits of people I met I wish I'd gathered. It's such a delicate balance--- making sure you don't just spend your time with a lens so glued to your face that you miss out on what's around you. That's the importance of taking your camera everywhere, I realize. You edit, you push yourself, and you capture not just more, but you capture it right. You know, the ol' quality v. quantity debate. 

Here are a few photos from Vietnam- I tried to pick ones that really conveyed the feel of the country, even if not all of 'em are top notch quality. The pictures begin in North Vietnam and end in South Vietnam; in the Mekong Delta. You'll journey through Sapa, Halong Bay, Cat Ba, Hanoi, Hue, Nha Trang, Hoi An, Dalat, Mui Ne, Saigon (Ho Chi Minh), and the Mekong Delta. Enjoy.

Diving Photos- Koh Tao, Thailand

Happy holidays, everyone. The exhaustion and confusion I've experienced since returning December 13th has only recently begun to wane, so it's time I started sharing pictures now that I can upload them.

The following are some of my favorite photos from diving in Koh Tao, Thailand, around December 8th. After completing my Advanced Diver certification (means I can dive to 30 meters and dive at night), I did an Underwater Photography course. Until you're Advanced certified, you can't dive with a camera--- the advanced certification focuses on honing in your buoyancy (so you don't disturb precious wildlife by slamming your body into coral while you're trying to photograph something) and it also gets you more familiar with using your equipment well. So, the advanced certification was a means to an end: I really have always wanted to be able to take photos while diving.

Armed with my own G-11 and an underwater housing I'd been traveling with for months (it got used a bit during kayaking in Halong Bay), I headed underwater. I'm so happy to be able to share with you what this beautiful underwater environment holds.

This is a scene you'd be likely to see when you first dive in and descend to about 10 meters. Small pockets of coral are nestled along the ocean floor, and schools of fish find safety in numbers. The boat has dropped anchor in the sand or attached to a buoy so as not to damage a coral garden. Something to keep in mind when you're viewing these photos: there are so many moving objects, it's a struggle to get your camera to always have a good focus field. And, your subjects are moving... constantly... But that's half the fun.

 

Well, ok, to see this and other photos, you really should visit the flickr slideshow I set up. It's got descriptions to the photos- so be sure to turn on the information and set the slideshow to slow. I tried my best to identify fish and provide extra information about the time I spent trying to capture the underwater world. Click the link below to see things full size, or for a preview try the tiny embedded flash file.

Koh Tao- My first underwater photography adventure (full size link to Flickr with info)

Embedded flash:

 

Enjoy!

 

See You, Teacher

Human Rights Day is a public holiday in Cambodia so school was out of session, but Mr. Sedtha invited me and the two other volunteers from the week (Adolfo and Anne--an outgoing couple from Mexico and Germany but living in Spain) to spend the day at his nearby farm.

There we joined all the kids from BFT, the staff and their families, and it was by the far most "authentic" day of my trip, far removed from the tourists and attractions. It was real life.

After a tour of the countless fruit trees, we lunched in a tree house, sopping up curry soup with baguette chunks. The meal was capped with some palm wine, cloudy and mild tasting yet deceivingly potent. Sophorn, who does PR work for BFT, joined us for lunch. A lovely woman with excellent English, she told us of her work as a birdwatching tour guide. She lit up as she talked about it and showed us brochures, telling us of how the communities are benefiting from the ecotourism. Her pride in her direct contribution was evident, and I'll never forget what she said, "Everyone wants a way to give back and when you find it you know and you just do it".  I see the same dedication and care from all the BFT staff--they all really believe in the vision and do it out of love, because it definitely is not for the money.

The night before, after another tuk tuk dance through the bumpy grounds of Wat Po Lanka, the driver got off his bike when we reached my guesthouse, looked me in the eye and said, "I want to thank you, you are very kind to help Cambodia". Everyone here is so attached to their homeland, so appreciative of outside support in any way, even if it is not directly affecting them, as they know that it all somehow trickles down and will have an impact on the future for their families.

Back at the farm, after being presented with gifts (a BFT t-shirt, Khmer scarf, and certificate of appreciation), we played a game of volleyball.  After a couple of rounds, I bowed out as it was not only hot, but I was also clearly just decoration on the court as tends to happen when it's a 5:1 boy girl ratio.  Instead, I followed the giggly murmurs coming from the treehouse. There I found a few of the kids cleaning up and rehearsing a variety of anthems. At first it was sort of awkward, sitting there in near silence, them smiling shyly at me, and me not knowing exactly what to say to a group who barely speaks English that I had only repeatedly rehearsed a song with.

During this lull, I watched the youngest, an attention-loving boy of no more than 18 months, who was squatting naked in the corner happily serving himself rice into his bowl with a side of spicy mango salad. When he finished his meal, he paraded around with an empty beer bottle on a stick and flung it at any vulnerable target.

While he was on the prowl, I was hanging out with Thi and Barang, who were beginning to open up to me by teaching me Khmer.  What broke the ice was actually them poking fun at my very limited Khmer: I heard them say balang, the word for foreigner I learned a while ago, and confidently called them out on it, but they fell to the floor laughing and said "no no! She's Barang!". 

As they taught me, Thi, a slender and shy teenage boy with striking eyes, helped with the English words that Barang, the more bashful 10-year old girl with the fullest lips you ever did see, did not know. My biggest accomplishment was counting to ten as they patiently went through the numbers over and over again. Counting to twenty and a handful of other words were also attempted/butchered, but my brain was full just trying to remember the first set and busy racing with contentment. 

At one point Barang said sometime to Thi and giggled. When I asked what she whispered he said, "She likes you. She wants you to take her".  Not knowing if I heard correctly or if he actually said teach her, it was in that moment that I fell for them and decided that I don't just want to give back, but I will give back when I return home.  So I went out today and bought a big backpack's worth of traditional checkered scarves (or kroma in Khmer) and will be selling them to anyone who is interested when I get home starting Monday. No storefront or anything, just good old fashioned Mary Kay style (except all profits go to charity, not toward a new pink convertible). Let me know if you are interested!

After trying to teach a clapping game to the larger group that joined, and a photo session in which my sunglasses were the accessory to have, it was time to go.

 

Tonight was my final rehearsal with the group. I will miss being up on that terrace, dripping in sweat at dusk as the moon emerges and the sky turns flourescent pink behind the group of attentive faces.  After doing a final few rehearsals of the anthem, I asked them to sing a few other songs they know to me. Ba Ba Black Sheep was the only one I recognized, but I just sat back and soaked it all in while I could, loving that they now end every song with "Take a bow!".

None of the staff was there, so it was just me tonight.  Leaving was really hard.  I've come to love the sound of "Hello, Teacher!" and "See you, Teacher!" so endearingly coming from them, but hearing "Good luck to you, Teacher!" was pretty heartbreaking.  After receiving some flowers plucked from pots on the terrace, I reassured them that I would see them again, and headed out, firmly believing in my promise to come back.

At first I thought it a silly assignment to teach them my national anthem, but I see it now more as a great feat, not only for myself but especially for the kids. Their determination and intelligence shined this week, and I know this will only continue to soar as they continue to learn anything and everything they can.  Like the few others who touched me along the way these past few months, I bundle them all up in my pocket to take home with me forever.

Music Lessons, Part I

Sitting here nursing my sore throat with lemon tea, I am praying that I can nurture  a couple more days out of my voice.  I've developed a bit of a routine over the past few days.  I wake up at 6am for a quick breakfast before heading out on the 15 minute walk to the center, passing inquisitive tuk tuk drivers and a bustling wat along the way, never forgetting the ever-important stop at the pharmacy for the usual- a fresh box of throat lozenges. I've made it a habit to wrap a scarf around my face at all times , as I now understand why people in this part of the world wear face masks outside. Since arriving in Siem Reap, dust has continued to pile on top of the phlegm in my throat, which is only making things worse.  Everywhere you go, you are walking in a reddish cloud of dust kicked up by vehicles, feet, or wind. 

My schedule is a morning session with a class at a school near Angkor Wat, then the afternoon to myself before heading to the center to work for an hour with the orphans living there, followed by an hour helping a teacher with an advanced English class.

Yesterday morning I jumped on the back of Borinth's motorbike and joined him at the school to collect BMI statistics from the children. Taking their height, weight and arm circumference, it was pretty shocking to see some of the results, but the fact that they are at least being monitored is great to see.  When all the measurements were finished, I took my place in front of a class of about 15 students, seeming to range in age from 7-18 years old.

It was finally my time to attempt the National Anthem. What a beast! These poor kids not only have to learn the most difficult, archaic song ever written, they have to hear me sing it over and over again. Another small contribution to my disintegrating voice.  I was honestly a bit discouraged after the morning session, as after an hour I could barely teach the first few lines. Having no idea how to teach, let alone music to ESL students, winging it is definitely not as easy as it sounded.  This morning, our second session together,the teacher had mercy on me and started writing out the words phonetically in Khmer on each child's worksheet. That made a world of a difference and I am hopeful that tomorrow a bit more progress will be made.

My evenings with the children at BFT, however, have been ego-boosting.  Those kids are insanely quick learners. They have, afterall, already mastered the Australian anthem and the Singaporean anthem (in Malaysian!), so what's one more?  By the end of our hour last night, they were already singing most of it on their own. Of course most of it is phonetic, as I barely know what the song means and teaching them the mostly useless vocabulary would just be a waste.  Tonight I added a few theatrics for them to enhance their performance for the American visitors--they place their hands on their hearts and, their favorite, "take a bow!" at the end.

My final hour in the evening has been spent helping advanced students with pronunciation.  They too range in age, with one seemingly as young as 7 or 8 having an impressive grasp on the assignments. The teacher has been sharing with me a lot about the process--they spend about four days on one dialogue, with one day each for listening (they listen to a cassette from the early 90s in a massive boombox), reading, writing and translating.  He is also Cambodian and longs to work on his English more, but he doesn't have much time since he works 12 hour days.  He mentioned the need for more up to date textbooks with DVDs they can copy for the kids, so that is my next mission. They photocopy everything for the kids so really I just need to find one good book I can send.

Last night, a couple of the older boys in class escorted me home, as the backstreets leading to the center are not well-lit.  As I rode on the back of one's motorbike while the other cycled along next to us, we discovered our common love of volleyball. They weren't in class today, but I am hoping to take them up on the offer to play in the coming days...I could definitely use the exercise and it would be fun to see how they are outside of class.

I hope my throat survives the next few days. Even if I come home voiceless, I want to see this through.  Regardless, I am thrilled at the thought that for the rest of my life, anytime I have to sing the national anthem I will at least a) finally know the words and b) be brought back to my time here and take comfort in knowing that somewhere out there, a group of Cambodians knows the American national anthem thanks to me.

Below is a photo of the lovelies at BFT singing the anthem on their own!

 

School Visit

Yesterday was my first day at the BFT Center and I definitely got a taste of the work they do and impact they make. After coating my belly with some soothing lotus drink, I set off in a pickup truck packed with 12 people--six in the truckbed with a load of school supplies and uniforms, and six of us squeezed up front.  I was the only volunteer along for the ride, as it was really a site visit for a generous donor who has helped a lot with funding the project in Cham Resh, the tiny village to which we were headed a couple of hours east of Siem Reap. 

They warned me about the "massaging" road conditions leading to the village, and they were not kidding. We were knocked every which direction as our driver masterfully dodged potholes (those that were avoidable) and maneuvered through mudpits. Fortunately, the next funded project is a new road to connect the town with a major thoroughfare to allow them better access to the outside world. A dam will also be built to help with flooding, which is a very common occurence, and allow for water storage and irrigation solutions instead.

As we pulled up, we were greeted by about 150 kids, most in old school uniforms and many without shoes.  The school is a work in progress--currently there is one basic schoolhouse with desks, benches and chalkboard where three teachers hold class for all the kids. The future plan is to build more classrooms to spread out the large number of students, train more teachers, and build a dormitory for teachers to live in, especially in order to get English teachers out there to help.  They will also build a kindergarten to get the older kids to go to school.  Now they have to stay at home to care for their younger siblings, but if there is a place for the small children to be taken care of...no more excuses. There are so many elements and layers involved with such projects, it's amazing to see how everything connects and the thinking ahead that goes on.

But back to the task at hand.  After the students gathered to sing a song for us, we began to distribute uniforms and supplies. Each student got a fresh, white button up shirt, navy shorts or skirt, pen, pencil, ruler, notebook and balloon.  One by one they accepted their bundles and hurried off to try on their new uniforms.  Some were swimming in excess materials, but after some size-swapping, most seemed to find a closer fit. They are all so tiny though and not many are really able to fill out even the smallest of sizes.  It's incredible to see such glowing smiles amidst such poverty. Most were very shy around us, but when they spy you flash a smile in their direction, they shatter yours to pieces with their resplendence.

After all the distributions were made and the students went home (some up to 4 km away), we pulled some desks together and had lunch in the classroom. Seated next to me was the school gardener's 10-year-old daughter who the donor invited to join us. So petite, polite and quiet, she, like her father, had a killer smile. Lunch wasn't the only thing that came out of her time at the table, to her father's delight, she also had her education sponsored by the donor.  It's mindblowing to see how with what seems like the wave of a wand you can just give, give, give. Maybe someday.

As we were leaving, I asked what the powder blue and white flag on the flagpole was. When they told me it was the Cambodian flag, its royal blue and red faded, I felt ashamed for asking. It did, however, give me my chance to contribute in a small way and I set out to buy a new flag for them today.

My music teacher career began this morning, but now I must rest for another early start tomorrow. I have been nursing a scratchy throat the past several days--not exactly helpful when you have to sing the most awfully pitched song ever written over and over again. So more on Day 1 tomorrow, along with the (hopefully) progress of Day 2.

A Childlike Fascination

I've always loved ancient civilizations. The Maya, the Inca, the Egyptians, the Greeks and Romans... I would spend hours pouring over beautifully illustrated books capturing the glory and downfalls of each society. No amount of previous research prepared me for the wonderment I just experienced walking through the ghosts of ancient Cambodia's past over the last three days.

To visit the Angkor temples, you stay in Siem Reap- a bustling but easy to handle town filled with countless open air and two story restaurants with a bit of a Las Vegas vibe. (Well, I dunno. I've never been to Vegas and really don't have the desire to). From Siem Reap, temples are anywhere from 2-70 kilometers away. I was familiar with a few of the temples I'd like to see, but I really had no idea just how dotted the countryside was with temples built between 900 and 1300 A.D. I think if you went templing every day, 9-5 for a week, you MIGHT just see them all and give them justice.

I think I'll wait to describe the temples until after I return home, so that I can do some thorough posts with historic details and photos. In fact, I'd like to do steady posts reflecting my trip and sharing pictures (I picked up a virus on my memory card, so I haven't been able to upload). But I've been going for the last three days, spending all day crawling up temples and scrambling up mountains for views, carvings, and the chance to walk around in those books I read as a kid.

The god-kings who built those temples could never imagine a day when their civilization would fall... and when the stone steps that once led kings to special chambers to pray for protection before a battle would lead hordes of tourists to amazing photo opportunities. The mythology woven on the walls of these temples is enthralling, filled with tales of gods and demons and wars and celebrations, and the occasional crocodile eating someone. I can't imagine a better way to spend three days.

So Roni is selflessly volunteering this week at a school- she's decided to stay in Cambodia, and I have to say I'm a bit jealous. The people here are spectacular--- they're so full of laughter and joy and sincerity, and while you still get harrassed on the street ("Tuk tuk lady? Where are you going? Where are you from? You buy from meeeeee?") there's a different feel here than the other countries I visited. It's a hopeful courageous spirit that has defied their recent history of war, atrocities, and death. It's holding your family and friends a little closer, and appreciating everything you have because your society almost wiped itself out within the last 40 years.

It's rebuilding a glorious society with the lessons of the ancients in mind.

Pictures to come, of course, with further explanations. I've been doing research to find out more about the Khmer Rouge, and I think I'm starting to understand the intricate causes of such a terror filled regime. So, look for that some time in the New Year as I'll be using this blog to reflect and ruminate.

As for the rest of my trip, I'm headed to some islands in Thailand--- today I'll land on Ko Samui and tomorrow I'll depart for the diving mecca of Ko Tao. There I'll get my advanced certification (I'll be able to dive up to 30 meters) and I'll also be taking an underwater photography class. I'm so excited, and hope I get to see large animals like whale sharks. Then, it's back to Bangkok for a fun-filled 23 hour day of travel home on Dec. 13.

So, I don't know if I'll be blogging until I get home. Just wanted to say thanks for sharing the adventure, and maybe you'll hear from me soon.

-a

Possibility of Visit

Yesterday was by far the longest day of this trip--night buses are a whole other --as we had a 4am wakeup call to go catch the sunrise at Angkor Wat.  Educational note: knowing close to nothing about site, I learned that the complex as a whole is not called Angkor Wat, rather the Temples of Angkor. Angkor Wat is just the largest and most reknowned among the sprawling network.

After waiting for our tuk tuk driver for an hour and making several wake up calls to the travel agency, we were finally on our way by 5:30.  Along the way we picked up our guide Chhayphanit, a gangly, baby-faced man with one year under his guiding belt. 

Everyone gathers in the same place for the sunrise, just behind the pond overlooking the sun coming up behind Angkor Wat.  For the best view, we worked our way up front and squatted in the mud most people were avoiding.  I finally got to use the Vietnamese squat I had observed so often but never found the opportunity to use! But I only lasted a few minutes at a time in that position though before my calves went numb.

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur, as we were tuk tuked nonstop from temple to temple by our driver, Superman (so called for his identifiable t-shirt amidst the sea of other hired drivers), for twelve hours until after sunset.  Some highlights:

- Signs reading "Possibility of Visit" guided us through each temple, my favorites being Bayon (full of large, towering faces) and Ta Prom (the "Tomb Raider" temple where massive knobby trees twist over and among the ruins--a true testament to nature defeating man).

- Pounding my chest against a wall in the main tower of Angkor Wat. Chhayphanit told us that by doing this, we would get rid of all our unhappiness. So we took turns standing back against the wall, beating our fists against our hearts, feeling and hearing the sound reverberating up against the wall.

- Being blessed by a nun at Banteay Kdei temple. With a shaved head and betel nut-stained lips, she gave us incense and tied a red string around our wrists as she said a prayer for good luck.  While I'm not Buddhist, it was lovely and my intentions felt sincere.

- The occasional fart Chhayphanit would let loose as he explained the difference between Apsara engravings.  Also the way most of our questions were answered with completely irrelevant answers as he misunderstood a lot of what we were saying. Example:

Me: "So when it was rediscovered by the French, was this moat still here or was it dry?"

Him: "Many people come here to visit, not only French. Chinese, Japanese..."

We finished the day with a hike up to Phnom Bakheng, where nearly everyone who entered the park that day crammed together to watch the sunset.  I had the most fun people watching from our perch along the temple wall, as it was a massive crowd of people from all over the world, tripods set up or cameras in hand, all gathered together to share this once in a lifetime moment.  The sunset itself was decent, but I spent most of it trying to grasp where I was and what I had seen all day.

Caked in dust and sweat, we zombied our way to a restaurant for dinner. We didn't have much energy to function, so we ate and listened to an American woman, probably about our age, sitting with a group of teenagers at a table next to us.  It was clear that she was their teacher and it got me thinking of the week ahead.

I last left you with only my decision to stay and volunteer in Cambodia. Since then there has been much back and forth via email with various parties before I settled on an organization.  Initially I contacted the man that Tasha had worked with during her month at a school in Siem Reap.  Turns out that they require a two week minimum from their volunteers, which I unfortunately do not have.  He did, however, refer me to another place.

So that's how I came to find the BFT Center (Build Your Future Today Center), an NGO in town which I visited this morning.  Feeling as giddy as on the first day of school and as anxious as going in for a job interview, I arrived to the modest house/center to find a group of children rehearsing Singapore's national anthem in the front yard.  Immediately I got a good feeling about this week. I was warmly greeted by Mr. Soborinth, Borinth for short, the man whom I had spoken to on the phone when I first arrived to town. He introduced me to Mr. Sedtha, the Executive Director of BFT. 

I breathed a sigh of relief when they took me upstairs for a PowerPoint presentation and introduction to their organization. Part of me envisioned that I may be thrown into a classroom and told to start teaching English, which I had mentally (if not practically) prepared for.  When I told him I am from the US, one of the first things I learned from Sedtha is that one of their biggest supporters and board of directors members was from Long Beach. I must have reacted with a goofy smile as I told him that I would actually be in Long Beach for a couple of weeks just days after returning home. Of course my mind already started racing with visions of meeting this board member to talk about my week at the center and potential involvement beyond.

The presentation lasted about an hour as Sedtha, Borinth and Vudthi, the monk who manages the Community Peace Building Program, walked me through their mission and achievements. They are running so many wonderful and important programs there, I am hungry to learn more. Check out their website for a good rundown:www.center-bft.org/.

Sundays they are closed, but on Monday morning I will be joining them on a school visit far out of town ("We will take massage bus!" they joked about the long, bumpy ride). It is one of their newer projects and they will be delivering uniforms to the students that day.

As for my role there, I have already been given an assignment! Drum roll please.....starting Tuesday evening, I will be teaching 17 children, ages 7-15, the Star Spangled Banner! They want them to learn it to surprise one of their donors that will be visiting in January. On my way out, Sedtha gathered the children around and had them sing the Australian and Singaporean national anthems to me. It was hard not to get emotional as I stood before the 2 rows of kids singing to me, thinking about what amazing moments lie ahead for me with them over the next week.

I immediately set off back to town in a tuk tuk to begin my search for a printable, kid-friendly Star Spangled Banner. You would think there would be some great versions out there for teaching, but it looks like I will be creating my own Word document before going off to find a photocopy shop.

Next mission: be sure to learn it fully myself before trying to teach it!

 

Countdown to Angkor

So it's been about a week since I've blogged... I have good excuses. For one, the trip out of Vietnam was less than exciting; it was actually quite a pain in the ass. It could justify a whole blog entry itself on how we got ripped off by a terrible tour company that lied directly to my face, but I'd rather just give it a rest and move on.

We arrived in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, about 5 days ago. We managed a great day of sight seeing, including the horrible S-21 prison of the Khmer Rouge, the National Museum, and the Royal Palace. About 24 hours into being there, I contracted a terrible stomach bacterial problem type thing that had me bedridden and not interested in food for about 3 days. On the third day, I was well enough to visit a doctor-- I was shocked to pay $30 and be seen immediately by a very stern but effective Eastern European woman who had 30 years of experience in Africa before practicing medicine in Cambodia. She wanted to put me on a IV drip to get my fluids back, but the thought of being on a 2 hour drip in Cambodia wasn't appealing... so I've been getting my energy back thanks to antibiotics, probiotics, bread products, and rehydration powder called Royal D. I'm slowly weaning myself off of this diet, but I think I won't be eating very adventurously for the rest of the trip. (Less than two weeks to go!)

Once I could travel, we made it to the small northern town of Kratie to finally see our precious Irrawaddy dolphin. A wooden boat with a motor that resembled a weed whacker took us out into the huge freshwater lake at sunset- we saw anywhere from 5-10 dolphins almost immediately! The sunset was gorgeous over the water, and it was so special to witness an endangered species in their native habitat. Apparently new calves aren't being born within the pod (I think a pack of dolphins is a pod???) but conservation efforts sound promising, and the local culture of Kratie is very proud of their dolphins. Mission accomplished! We found our stupid-faced dolphin!

The next day, we hired bicycles and took them across the river to a small rural island. We cycled through what was really a nonstop peaceful village circumscribing rice fields and banana trees. Kids yelled "Hello!" incessantly, and we saw plenty of cattle, chickens, pigs, dogs, and ponies (used to pull adorable little carts used for hauling people and farming related gear). The women at a few food stands (who wear their pajamas during the daytime- we're talkin' bright printed matching sets here) had a few good laughs at us, and though my bike managed to get a flat back tire, I'd say the day was a success.

Still running low on steam because of my illness, I turned in early. We woke up this morning to high tail it to Siem Reap on the other side of Cambodia, and 9 hours of bus riding later, we made it to this fabled city. It's so strange for me to be somewhere right now that I dreamed of visiting as a kid- it's like I've finally made it to Disney Land, only instead of cartoon creatures I get ancient temples at sunrise. Tomorrow morning we depart for the temples of Angkor at 4:30 AM- about 8 hours away now, so i should wrap up this slightly pitiful excuse for a blog entry and get myself to bed.

More later about the Khmer Rouge and the tragic events of 1975-1978 that led to 1.7 million Cambodians dying at their own hands during a bloody revolution followed by frightening fascist rule. But now- bed. And dreams to come.

Ubuntu

Let me tell you a bit about why I adore backpacking. They way that one trek or bus ride can open up a worldwide network of like-minded friends.  How one tip from a stranger can lead you in a whole new direction.  The value of a notepad and pen, allowing you to assemble a precious collection of contacts, recommendations, or just your own ideas as they come.  But mostly the way you open your heart to a new level of trust, putting more faith in the goodness of humanity as you meet free spirits along the road, all admiring this quality in each other and having a common understanding of why it is we are doing the unconventional things we are doing.  In the past few days, all these qualities have come together in an unexpected way, as I suppose they always do.

A couple of days ago, I booked a round trip flight from Bangkok down to the Thai islands, expecting to be thrilled at finally setting in stone that beach time on an idyllic beach I have been lusting after.  But even as I was booking the ticket, an indescribable uneasiness settled in my stomach. I told myself it was because I hadn't settled on an exact beach yet and that the stress would pass once a plan was set.  As I began to figure out all the details down to ferry times, and narrow down the list, first by island, then by specific beach and hotel, the anxiety only compounded. I decided to sleep it off.

The next day, we boarded a seven hour bus to Kratie from Phnom Penh, the first ride to have mercy on us by staying on a straight, mostly paved road. The whole way there, in between some luxurious dozing, I watched the lush landscapes pass, again making myself crazy over the beach dilemma. Then suddenly it hit me: the islands are not the problem. The real conflict was over leaving Cambodia. In that same moment I also realized: You don't have to go to Thailand. Yes, you have the non-refundable ticket your broke ass just bought yesterday, and yes you had been looking forward to the islands for the past couple of months, but you also had no idea how much this place would touch you. My revelation put me at ease and I decided to mull it over.

As we pulled into Kratie, a couple of English women were also headed to the Balcony Guesthouse where we had booked.  Turns out we arrived at prime dolphin watching hour and set out on the bumpy 15 km. tuk tuk ride to Kampi with Tasha, one of the women.  Along the way, in between lung-fulls of dust from passing ox carts and motorbikes, Tasha told us about the month she just spent volunteering at a school near Siem Reap. Instantly my curiosity was piqued. Just as I began to doubt how I would spend my last week, I couldn't help but take meeting her and hearing her experience as a sign.

In my final days at the office back in Austin, my colleague Shannon and I were reminiscing about our fundraising and volunteer experience in Cape Town last year. She told me to keep an eye out for the next project and I promised I would. While I admit that I never actively searched, I think that these moments can only truly happen when they find you and touch you unexpectedly.

Also in trying to find the perfect word to describe my love for this country and it's people, their genuine kindness,smiling eyes and lightheartedness, only one continues to come to mind--ubuntu--a word I learned last year in South Africa that in itself is hard to define.  In my search for a suitable definition to share here beyond "community" and "humanity", the keywords that stand out in my head, I find this one by Desmond Tutu most fitting especially given the Cambodian historical context:

"A person with Ubuntu is open and available to others, affirming of others, does not feel threatened that others are able and good, for he or she has a proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that he or she belongs in a greater whole and is diminished when others are humiliated or diminished, when others are tortured or oppressed."

Or maybe for my own personal context at this crossroad in my trip, Nelson Mandela's take on the word:

"A traveler through a country would stop at a village and he didn't have to ask for food or for water. Once he stops, the people give him food, entertain him. That is one aspect of Ubuntu but it will have various aspects. Ubuntu does not mean that people should not enrich themselves. The question therefore is: Are you going to do so in order to enable the community around you to be able to improve?"

The self-interrogation that I battled with over the past few days has settled with the dust back on the road from the dolphins (which was, by the way,  glorious as expected). It's really empowering and humbling to be reminded of the control you have over your destiny. Whether I stuck with the original plan of an uneventful week of R&R was ultimately up to me, and I am grateful to have taken control of my wave of emotion and considered it seriously rather than trying to shake it off. Whether for self-enrichment or as a token of my gratitude for the peace of mind Cambodia has given me, I want to give back.

Pleasant Surprise

Back in the realm of tuk tuks and wats, today was only our third day in Phnom Penh and I am already sad at the thought of leaving tomorrow. Not that I knew exactly what to expect, but definitely not this vibrant and modern of a city.  Walking down the tree lined boulevards past cute boutiques and beautiful, walled-in homes, it feels like walking down a Tel Aviv or Herzliya street, except with more markets.  A striking number of dental clinics line the streets, the big molar shaped signs quite possibly outnumbering the ubiquitious street food vendors.

Another odd discovery is that ATMs here give you US dollars, which are widely accepted and preferred over the riel.  While convenient, it makes things far more expensive than in the other countries we have visited.  It feels strangely refreshing to be using dollars again, and I find myself trying to convert the listed dollar amounts into Vietnamese dong, which I have become accustomed to over the past month.

Second only to the special dolphin, I have managed to accomplish one of my main missions here: find mangosteens.  This strange fruit became a running joke amoung my South Africa travel mates last year, and it has taken me over two months to finally come across one.  There is a bounty of them here and I indulged in a few for breakfast this morning.

Surprises aside, we had an eventful day of sightseeing yesterday.   First stop was the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, a school in the center of the city that the Khmer Rouge turned into a prison during their reign of terror in the 1970s. Walking through the buildings in the compound weighs heavily on you as you get a glimpse into the empty rooms along long, barbed wire-lined corridors with nothing but a bed frame or rusty shackles left behind in each.  Several rooms contain boards full of prisoner "mugshots" while others contain paintings alongside torture devices illustrating how they were used. 

Disturbed and shaken, I felt ashamed of my near-ignorance of the horrors and history of the Khmer Rouge reign.  Before leaving the museum, I browsed through the literature and picked out a book called First They Killed My Father in hopes of getting a better understanding of how such horrible crimes against humanity happened in even more recent history than the Holocaust. How the Cambodian people can be so resilient, kind and warm after such a horrible period blows my mind.

After a stroll through the majestic Royal Palace grounds, which I found to be much more impressive and less cluttered than Bangkok's Grand Palace, we rounded out the afternoon wandering  through the streets near the waterfront, where several rivers intersect.  Since we were in the neighborhood, we headed toward Wat Phnom. Cambodians come to this hilltop temple for good luck, so we went in hopes of picking some up for our dolphin expedition tomorrow. As we were approaching we spotted a group of monkeys playing in a tangle of electrical wires sprawling out from the city's electric company. We also saw another group of monkeys playing and grooming in the lawn of the park around the temple. Rest assured we kept our distance, Monkey Island still fresh in our minds.   It's so odd to see wildlife roaming freely in a big city--did I mention the elephant we saw mozying down the street earlier in the morning?

I spent today staying within a one block radius of our guesthouse, which is quite the spectacle in itself.  It's a rooftop joint where a community of young expats spend all day and night lounging around, drinking and playing cards.  As I sat there this afternoon drinking gin and tonics, eating lok lak (chopped beed with fried egg and rice) and partaking in a long session of Shithead (the ultimate backpacker card game) with some older American and Irish expats, I couldn't help but wonder what all these boozehounds were running away from back home.  Speaking with the bartender last night I learned that he came here for a week, fell in love with it, went back to Albany, sold his business and possesions to come back and work at this hostel/bar within a couple of months.  While admirable and something I wouldn't put past myself to do, there is something sad and wasteful about this sort of expat experience of coming to the same backpacker hangout day in and day out to do nothing but get drunk. Did they forget what it is they fell in love with that brought them all the way to Cambodia in the first place? Or was it just the comfort they found in this community of lost souls far far away from home?  Anyway, just a good reminder of what not to get sucked into should I decide to also take a dip in expat-dom.  Plus I found a favorite new quote graffitied on the ceiling here: "Don't be sad because it's over. Smile because it happened".

Alright guys, think about us tomorrow as we pursue the holy grail of our trip out east in Kratie. I hope the next posting is replete with photos and tales of our snoutless freshwater friends.