Today is Tuesday… and it’s my last day. My last day in Cambodia. Maybe if I say it again it’ll start to make sense. Appropriately enough, I spent my last weekend in Cambodia largely the same way I spent my first weekend in Cambodia: Quality time at the Pavilion, Pontoon, and the Russian Market. I got my hair cut and nails done…
I moved back into the Program Office when I got back from my last trip since my lease on my apartment was up. And it’s been a lot more painful than it was the first time around: the room seems hotter, the water is colder, the water pressure is awful, and I found my first cockroach in the bathroom! Ugh.
I saw all my friends last night for a “Going Away and Birthday” party, only this time around the birthday was Nono’s. The VSO girls got me a T-shirt that said “I <3 Pontoon” which was so sweet of them. And it fits me too! I’ll really miss small sizes when I get back to America… I’ve come around full circle. It was the first night it really started to hit me and I wanted to cry.
My co-workers are so sweet... They threw me a going away party yesterday at the same place we went to for New Years. This time genuine Khmer-only Karaoke was included in the day's activities so of course we had even more fun. Today they gave me a gift and insisted on taking pictures with the whole staff and having some sort of lunch... it was the second time thus far I've been so moved I almost cried. We haven't gotten to lunch yet but I can't wait to see what's on the menu!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
The Office
It’s hard to believe that I’ve been in Southeast Asia for over 3 months now. Originally, my placement was set to end on June 4th and I was planning to travel for a few weeks after that. Fortunately and very happily for me, my parents agreed to come visit me for this trip, but they had some timing constraints so I ended up traveling with them earlier than expected and then returning to work for a couple weeks to wrap everything up before I go home. So if it seems like all I’ve been doing out here is traveling and enjoying myself, you should know that I will literally be working at the office until the day I leave! In fact I’ll be at the office all day TOMORROW and then my flight is at 11.30 PM to arrive in the states at around 10:30 AM the next morning! I know my entries have been less than reliable lately, so instead of waiting to write new entries until I’ve caught up with my travels (it’s hard work!), I’m going to post these last entries and then go back and turn my memories and jotted down notes from Kampot, Kep and Rabbit Island, Laos, Thailand, Siem Reap, Malaysia and Singapore into blog posts after I have returned.
On that note, even after 3 months, Cambodia never ceases to surprise and amaze. Returning for a few days to show my parents around after a week of travel to Thailand, I decided to meet up with my friends one Saturday night on the rooftop of Chow on the riverfront. I knew the general location, but wasn’t exactly sure where it was, so after riding up and down the street once, I let the motodop go and pulled out my phone to call Erika to get specific directions. In that instant, the phone still ringing before she had a chance to pick it up, a moto whizzed by, knocking me in the head as it flew down the street. At first, I had no idea what had just happened and was just thankful that I had not been hit harder. I thought the moto had not seen me or had misjudged the distance between us… before I realized my phone was gone. The m*%^f(*#er stole my phone! In the 2 or 3 seconds that it took me to realize this, all I could do was scream “HEY!” after it; obviously completely futile and helpless. A cyclo driver who happened to see the whole interaction rode towards me, repeating “crazy motos” and offered me a free ride home or to a shop to buy a new phone. At first I got in, thinking that I should obviously just go home now, but after a few seconds, I thought, “Why should I go home!? The phone wasn’t worth that much… Why let it ruin my night?” So I told the cyclo to go back, figured out where the place was and went up to see my friends. Upon leaving an hour or two later for a different venue, the cyclo driver was still outside and he had the nerve to ask me for money! For taking me on a 1 minute ride in a circle… when he had claimed the entire 15-20 minute ride back to BKK would be free! I must admit, I'm still a little scared of the riverfront, but I still force myself to get up the courage to go, even if I am guarding my belongings and self with a hawk's eye the whole time.
Upon my more quasi-permanent return after another 2 weeks from “tourist lala land” to “serious volunteer mentality,” I noticed that quite a few things had changed in this short span of time:
On that note, even after 3 months, Cambodia never ceases to surprise and amaze. Returning for a few days to show my parents around after a week of travel to Thailand, I decided to meet up with my friends one Saturday night on the rooftop of Chow on the riverfront. I knew the general location, but wasn’t exactly sure where it was, so after riding up and down the street once, I let the motodop go and pulled out my phone to call Erika to get specific directions. In that instant, the phone still ringing before she had a chance to pick it up, a moto whizzed by, knocking me in the head as it flew down the street. At first, I had no idea what had just happened and was just thankful that I had not been hit harder. I thought the moto had not seen me or had misjudged the distance between us… before I realized my phone was gone. The m*%^f(*#er stole my phone! In the 2 or 3 seconds that it took me to realize this, all I could do was scream “HEY!” after it; obviously completely futile and helpless. A cyclo driver who happened to see the whole interaction rode towards me, repeating “crazy motos” and offered me a free ride home or to a shop to buy a new phone. At first I got in, thinking that I should obviously just go home now, but after a few seconds, I thought, “Why should I go home!? The phone wasn’t worth that much… Why let it ruin my night?” So I told the cyclo to go back, figured out where the place was and went up to see my friends. Upon leaving an hour or two later for a different venue, the cyclo driver was still outside and he had the nerve to ask me for money! For taking me on a 1 minute ride in a circle… when he had claimed the entire 15-20 minute ride back to BKK would be free! I must admit, I'm still a little scared of the riverfront, but I still force myself to get up the courage to go, even if I am guarding my belongings and self with a hawk's eye the whole time.
Upon my more quasi-permanent return after another 2 weeks from “tourist lala land” to “serious volunteer mentality,” I noticed that quite a few things had changed in this short span of time:
- Central Market’s renovation is moving along with a nice looking newly painted bright white and yellow exterior.
- The trees all long the entire stretch of St 63 have been robbed of their branches, which have been chopped at the base where they connect to the trunk. Would this ever happen in a developed country? I guess I should just be thankful they didn’t chop entire trees down…
- I still feel like I'm going to die every second I'm on the streets... but nothing new there.
As if spurred by my leaving, more interesting things have been happening at the office this week, things you probably would never see at your office…
- On a weekday afternoon, a man with just a kroma (scarf) wrapped around his waist like a skirt sits on a step in front of a water spout in the office courtyard next to the bathrooms, scrubbing his head lathered with shampoo. Next to him on the sidewalk are a pair of glasses and a cell phone. By the time I come back out of the bathroom, his hair is shining wet and clean, he is now scrubbing his body with soap. A guard walks by and they have some sort of exchange of words but the guard just continues to walk off.
- The cleaning woman at our office is a very kind woman in her 40’s or so who generally spends most of her time sitting in the very small cubicle of a kitchen in the corner of the main room. She is the only one in the office who says “hello” and “how are you” to me in Khmer, which I like very much, but I realized the only reason she does this is because she speaks no English… so that is the extent of our conversations. Over the last few weeks, she has started bringing her granddaughter, a very small and quiet 4 year old to work with her everyday. The girl's parents both work... jobs where you can't bring your kid to work with you apparently. The girl spends most of her time sitting with her grandmother in the kitchen, being very good, eating or sleeping on the kitchen table. She doesn’t seem to have too many things or companions to play with, but incredibly, she rarely makes very much noise or cries or disturbs the office at all.
- On another trip to the bathroom, I see a man in a wheelchair exit the men’s room on his way back to the main building. The bathroom is handicap accessible and there is a ramp leading down to the courtyard and another from the main building to the parking lot, but between the bathroom and the building there is a small step. Another man is walking by and the man in a wheelchair is forced to ask him for a favor, to push the wheelchair over the step. The whole exchange only takes a second but it summarizes a core issue in Cambodia: Remarkable progress is being made at the cost of important details. But my outlook has changed since I first got here and I am confident in Cambodia’s development; over time it will all come together.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
A Day in the Life
After two and a half months, my weekdays in Phnom Penh have become a comfortable routine and a breath of fresh air between my intermittent holidays and travels. I wake up around 7 AM every morning to get ready and have breakfast before I get to work around 8. Some days I wake up earlier to Skype with my parents or get some other errands done before I go to work. My “commute” consists of walking down 4 flights of stairs and then riding my bicycle for about 10 minutes down St. 63 over to Monivong. On my way to work, there is a young security guard who used to yell “Hello!” at me every time I rode by. Now that I’ve learned to appreciate that most people who say hello to me are really just being friendly, we’ve gotten into the habit of exchanging a high-five every time I ride by. It makes me sad to think that one day I’ll stop riding by and he’ll probably be left wondering what happened to me.
In the first couple weeks of work, I was gaining as much background information as I could about DAC and the Cambodia Disability Resource Center (CDRC) while simultaneously working on my 3 month project plan. With my team, I visited four other resource centers at two banks and two NGOs (The World Bank Public Information Center, the Asian Development Bank (ADB), CCC and CDRI) to observe and learn the standard in Cambodia. Each visit was fascinating, and all the staff spoke perfect English and were really helpful and informative. I used the knowledge I gained from these visits to devise the information architecture, classification code, and policies for the CDRC library and website.
Once these systems and documentation were reviewed and finalized by the the DAC directors, it was time for my team to hit the ground running with lots and lots of manual work. It’s been all hands on deck since then with an intern, an assistant from MoSVY (Ministry of Social Affairs, Veterans and Youth Rehabilitation) and even the cleaning crew helping to attach classification labels to books and arrange them on the shelves according to the code.
Since we have practically next to no budget on this project, I’ve spent most of this time calling, sending emails, and meeting with partner organizations to acquire assistive technologies for our public computer, including JAWS (an English screen reader), Khmer Reader and a special mouse for arm and hand disabilities. These visits have been even more interesting than the library visits. I visited the Association of Blind in Cambodia (ABC), where amongst other services blind people of all ages are trained to work as masseuses in the famous “Seeing Hands Massage” centers you see all over the country. I also visited Krousar Thmey, the School for the Blind, where an extremely professional and well-spoken computer teacher who was blind himself walked me through the JAWS program and the way students use it for their work and leisure. It was fascinating to learn that some blind people in Cambodia are actually better educated and better off in the international world than anyone else simply because they are forced to perfect their English: there is no such thing as Khmer Braille and the Khmer screen reader is very limited. I also made a brief visit to a school for children with intellectual disabilities, who won me over with their lighthearted fun and crazy antics.
Lately I’ve been working on my final responsibility under this contract, creating marketing material for CDRC and a promotion strategy. This is the trickiest part of the project because we can’t have a successful resource center without visitors but we can’t handle visitors until we are fully functional (which we aren’t yet). When I’m not visiting other institutions, I’m usually working at my computer at my desk in a room with 3 of my co-workers. Sarah is a British VSO volunteer who works on the Inclusive Education project with Sokhim, and Seka manages the Livelihoods project. Seka is the easiest person to relate to at work and one of my favorite people: she is a 28 year old single woman living on her own in the city (her family lives in a village) who is also getting her masters degree on the weekends. Seka and Sokhim are Cambodian and they always lighten the mood in the office by taking turns playing Cambodian music on their computer speakers.
About a third of the 15 DAC employees are disabled people who lead promisingly healthy and successful lives without the use of any assistive devices. My direct report is a bright young college graduate named Sokdin who has an amputated hand. He does an incredible job of hiding it because it took me 3 weeks of sitting next to him everyday to even notice his disability! I’m not sure if this is a very impressive or very sad fact… Our office is a small run-down facility in the parking lot of the beautiful brand-new MoSVY building whose lobby is ironically twice the size of our entire space. For a disability organization, our building is the opposite of accessible as there is a step to get into the front door, the aisles are all narrow and cramped, and we don’t even have our own bathrooms! We use the non-accessible MoSVY bathrooms all the way across a courtyard in the main building!
There are other daily frustrations at work… lack of internet, lack of electricity, lack of budget, lack of resources, lack of staff, lack of professionalism… you name it. One of my co-workers, who is otherwise a very pleasant man, seems to think I am only good for English translation, as he never approaches me for help with the project or anything other than to correct his English in completely unrelated documents he is working on. Another one of my coworkers, my direct counterpart, the Information and Communications Officer, has a bad reputation for being very difficult to work with; others had pre-warned me that he doesn’t take initiative and doesn’t follow up to the point where the directors had to create a weekly plan for him and literally monitor his hourly activities. His work is so poor that after 11 years, his contract was not renewed and will expire around the same time I leave. Needless to say, I was very wary of working with him until I got to know him better and got to hear his side of the story and the root of the problem. He told me that the DAC directors never give him any autonomy over his projects or respect his input. They make decisions over his head that he only finds out about after the fact. For example, one day Sokdin showed up to work and sat next to him and he had no idea who he was. He asked, "Who are you?" and Sokdin said "Your Assistant." He told me that when the directors started doing this, he made the decision that from then on he was just going to ignore them. Simple as that. And that is the reason why he doesn’t take initiative or respond or follow up. I couldn’t believe it.
Most workplaces in Cambodia have a two hour lunch between 12 and 2 PM, but at DAC we only have an hour and a half from 12 to 1.30. When I first arrived and before I knew any better, I used to eat at a local buffet with the DAC directors for only $2. Pretty soon I got sick of not knowing what crazy scary dish i was about to eat next, so I started eating out with my other friends, visiting the market, doing laundry or relaxing at home during lunch. Our hours also run until 5.30 PM which is kind of annoying because most of my friends are free to go home at 5. After work, I either go out to eat with friends, go online at a restaurant with free Wi-Fi or an internet café, or partake in different workout classes I’ve tried out, including yoga, kickboxing, and capoeira. When I first discovered a local group who practice capoeira, a Brazilian martial art, I was in love, and I used to work out 3-4 nights a week. Sadly, however, with all the holidays, travel, and the stress of trying to wrap things up at work these last few weeks, I've had barely any time for organized physical activities. Even though I am grateful for all the travel and adventure the timing of this placement has allowed me, one reason I sometimes wish I could extend my stay would be to live a more fulfilling “normal” everyday life here.
In the first couple weeks of work, I was gaining as much background information as I could about DAC and the Cambodia Disability Resource Center (CDRC) while simultaneously working on my 3 month project plan. With my team, I visited four other resource centers at two banks and two NGOs (The World Bank Public Information Center, the Asian Development Bank (ADB), CCC and CDRI) to observe and learn the standard in Cambodia. Each visit was fascinating, and all the staff spoke perfect English and were really helpful and informative. I used the knowledge I gained from these visits to devise the information architecture, classification code, and policies for the CDRC library and website.
Once these systems and documentation were reviewed and finalized by the the DAC directors, it was time for my team to hit the ground running with lots and lots of manual work. It’s been all hands on deck since then with an intern, an assistant from MoSVY (Ministry of Social Affairs, Veterans and Youth Rehabilitation) and even the cleaning crew helping to attach classification labels to books and arrange them on the shelves according to the code.
Since we have practically next to no budget on this project, I’ve spent most of this time calling, sending emails, and meeting with partner organizations to acquire assistive technologies for our public computer, including JAWS (an English screen reader), Khmer Reader and a special mouse for arm and hand disabilities. These visits have been even more interesting than the library visits. I visited the Association of Blind in Cambodia (ABC), where amongst other services blind people of all ages are trained to work as masseuses in the famous “Seeing Hands Massage” centers you see all over the country. I also visited Krousar Thmey, the School for the Blind, where an extremely professional and well-spoken computer teacher who was blind himself walked me through the JAWS program and the way students use it for their work and leisure. It was fascinating to learn that some blind people in Cambodia are actually better educated and better off in the international world than anyone else simply because they are forced to perfect their English: there is no such thing as Khmer Braille and the Khmer screen reader is very limited. I also made a brief visit to a school for children with intellectual disabilities, who won me over with their lighthearted fun and crazy antics.
Lately I’ve been working on my final responsibility under this contract, creating marketing material for CDRC and a promotion strategy. This is the trickiest part of the project because we can’t have a successful resource center without visitors but we can’t handle visitors until we are fully functional (which we aren’t yet). When I’m not visiting other institutions, I’m usually working at my computer at my desk in a room with 3 of my co-workers. Sarah is a British VSO volunteer who works on the Inclusive Education project with Sokhim, and Seka manages the Livelihoods project. Seka is the easiest person to relate to at work and one of my favorite people: she is a 28 year old single woman living on her own in the city (her family lives in a village) who is also getting her masters degree on the weekends. Seka and Sokhim are Cambodian and they always lighten the mood in the office by taking turns playing Cambodian music on their computer speakers.
About a third of the 15 DAC employees are disabled people who lead promisingly healthy and successful lives without the use of any assistive devices. My direct report is a bright young college graduate named Sokdin who has an amputated hand. He does an incredible job of hiding it because it took me 3 weeks of sitting next to him everyday to even notice his disability! I’m not sure if this is a very impressive or very sad fact… Our office is a small run-down facility in the parking lot of the beautiful brand-new MoSVY building whose lobby is ironically twice the size of our entire space. For a disability organization, our building is the opposite of accessible as there is a step to get into the front door, the aisles are all narrow and cramped, and we don’t even have our own bathrooms! We use the non-accessible MoSVY bathrooms all the way across a courtyard in the main building!
There are other daily frustrations at work… lack of internet, lack of electricity, lack of budget, lack of resources, lack of staff, lack of professionalism… you name it. One of my co-workers, who is otherwise a very pleasant man, seems to think I am only good for English translation, as he never approaches me for help with the project or anything other than to correct his English in completely unrelated documents he is working on. Another one of my coworkers, my direct counterpart, the Information and Communications Officer, has a bad reputation for being very difficult to work with; others had pre-warned me that he doesn’t take initiative and doesn’t follow up to the point where the directors had to create a weekly plan for him and literally monitor his hourly activities. His work is so poor that after 11 years, his contract was not renewed and will expire around the same time I leave. Needless to say, I was very wary of working with him until I got to know him better and got to hear his side of the story and the root of the problem. He told me that the DAC directors never give him any autonomy over his projects or respect his input. They make decisions over his head that he only finds out about after the fact. For example, one day Sokdin showed up to work and sat next to him and he had no idea who he was. He asked, "Who are you?" and Sokdin said "Your Assistant." He told me that when the directors started doing this, he made the decision that from then on he was just going to ignore them. Simple as that. And that is the reason why he doesn’t take initiative or respond or follow up. I couldn’t believe it.
Most workplaces in Cambodia have a two hour lunch between 12 and 2 PM, but at DAC we only have an hour and a half from 12 to 1.30. When I first arrived and before I knew any better, I used to eat at a local buffet with the DAC directors for only $2. Pretty soon I got sick of not knowing what crazy scary dish i was about to eat next, so I started eating out with my other friends, visiting the market, doing laundry or relaxing at home during lunch. Our hours also run until 5.30 PM which is kind of annoying because most of my friends are free to go home at 5. After work, I either go out to eat with friends, go online at a restaurant with free Wi-Fi or an internet café, or partake in different workout classes I’ve tried out, including yoga, kickboxing, and capoeira. When I first discovered a local group who practice capoeira, a Brazilian martial art, I was in love, and I used to work out 3-4 nights a week. Sadly, however, with all the holidays, travel, and the stress of trying to wrap things up at work these last few weeks, I've had barely any time for organized physical activities. Even though I am grateful for all the travel and adventure the timing of this placement has allowed me, one reason I sometimes wish I could extend my stay would be to live a more fulfilling “normal” everyday life here.
I heart Uncle Ho and Pho: Vietnam
On Saturday morning (April 11), Meghan, Erika, Nono, Hollie, and I boarded a Suraya bus that was supposed to get us to Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) in 6 hours. After just 45 minutes however, the bus came to a halt and then a dead crawl for 3 (!!!) hours waiting to get on a very small ferry to cross a river in rural Cambodia. THREE HOURS! Just to cross a river! Can someone please call Obama and ask him for some money to build a bridge? At first the wait wasn’t so bad; it was almost kind of fun because I was hungry and there were lots of vendors coming up to the windows of the bus and in some cases even climbing up to sell us food. The longer we waited and the more bored I got, the more precaution went out the window (literally): I bought some waffles, a sandwich, and still regret that I did not buy these mangoes I was eyeing. To be fair, the wait for the ferry is usually a mere hour and was only so bad because of Khmer New Year.
Finally, after a 5 minute ferry ride and surprisingly speedy border crossing, we were in Southern Vietnam. Vietnam was immediately completely different from Cambodia; much more developed and clean, but with surprisingly even more motos and less cars. (Wouldn't you think more developed=more cars?) After a week of observation I have realized that the biggest socio-economic difference between the two countries is the existence of a large middle class in Vietnam. One of the most disheartening things about living in Cambodia is that you can only really visit two types of venues: local places that are a bit scary or expat coffee shops, restaurants, pools, and lounges that make you feel like a spoiled self-indulging tourist. In contrast, in Vietnam it was really refreshing to find ourselves sitting side-by-side with locals in nice places. HCMC was huge and spread out, but there was something enticing about it that I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it was the vibrant backpacker district or the street after street of modern and colorful shops we passed on the way there, but whatever it was made me fall in love with Saigon.
On Sunday morning, we flew to Hanoi in Northern Vietnam and set off on a walking tour of the Old Quarter, where we saw the juxtaposition of brightly colored shops and markets next to ancient gates, houses, pagodas and even a St. James Cathedral! We ate lunch on the top floor of a restaurant overlooking the understated, but beautiful Hoan Kiem Lake. That night, it took us forever to find the secluded Hoa Sua, a teaching restaurant that takes kids off the street to train them in culinary careers, but the atmosphere and yummy food were totally worth it. Even though we had a good time in Hanoi, I still didn't like it as much as HCMC. I think it was too much of a big, crowded commercial center in contrast with the unique old world charm and warmth that I have grown to love about the rest of Southeast Asia.
The next morning, we took a 3 hour bus ride to the highlight of any trip to Vietnam: Halong Bay. I was SUPER excited for it from the pictures I had seen of my sister’s trip back in 2007, and my expectations did not go unmet. Halong Bay is an absolutely stunning body of water filled with huge limestone karst islands jutting up out of the water… over 3,000 of them! Halong Bay is a UNESCO World Heritage Site not only for its natural beauty, but also for its cultural importance: it is still home to numerous floating villages of local fisherman.
After enjoying the view from the top deck of our “junk” (what they call antique looking tour boats) while we cruised into the bay for several hours, we visited a cave on foot and stopped at one of these floating villages to check out their seafood traps (dinner). Then we kayaked around some shallow caves and ended the night singing karaoke with some cool Canadian girls we met on the boat; another unexpected highlight of the trip! Our group dominated the mic until long after everyone else had gone to bed, with the exception of our Vietnamese tour guide who was very serious about his ballads (including Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On,” which he had to share with the Canadians of course).
The next day we went for a swim in the Bay and jumped off the top of the boat, which was absolutely thrilling! Sadly however, before we knew it we were back in an overstuffed mini-van on our way to Hanoi, where I tried to make the most of the afternoon by leading the girls on a ridiculously quick tour of the museum district, stopping (just for photos) at the One Pillar Pagoda, Temple of Literature, Ho Chi Minh Museum and Mausoleum. I knew nothing about Ho Chi Minh before we arrived in Vietnam, but it did not take us long to figure out that he is THE man, the most famous and revered leader in Vietnamese history. Every single village, town and city in Vietnam has streets and museums named after him and a line forms around the block to visit his embalmed corpse (built contrary to his desire to be cremated) in the Mausoleum every morning it is open. The area around the Mausoleum was surprisingly modern-looking and reminded me more of Europe than of Southeast Asia.
That night we FINALLY ate Pho at a fast food joint called PHO 24 (it was still scrumptious) before heading to a see a Water Puppet Show. Even though it was in Vietnamese, the Water Puppet Show was pretty cute, but the best part was the live band who played unusual instruments and the two women singing whose voices gave me goosebumps. Late that night we departed for an overnight train to Hue, in Central Vietnam, that would arrive around 11 AM the next day. We knew to prepare for this trip by buying light silk sheet sleeping bags and a can of Raid, but it was still pretty nerve-wracking to sleep that close to God knows how many small bugs and cockroaches. We had the four middle and bottom bunks in a 6-bunk sleeper; I felt sorry for the two Vietnamese sleeping in the top bunk who had to put up with the stifling Raid, but with the amount we sprayed we probably killed the bugs around them too.
The second we stepped off the train in Hue, we were overwhelmed by about a million “touts”: drivers and hotel marketers vying for our business, so we had to stop for a coffee to clear our heads. Hue is a small city that was the capital of Vietnam during the Nguyen dynasty whose reign started in 1744; I was impressed by its endless riverside parks and ancient ruins. That afternoon we visited its main site, the Citadel, which reminded me of the Secret Garden. I realized I am a sap for ruins, because I lost all my friends and ended up wandering around alone for hours, exploring seemingly deserted old buildings that reminded me of ancient Greece. There were so many ornately adorned gates and palaces that renovation workers had turned some into makeshift temporary homes… while they were renovating them!
The next day Nono and I went on a private riverboat up the Perfume River to the ancient tombs of the Nguyen emperors while Meghan and Erika were on a night bus down to Nha Trang. We had to book the private half-day tour because we didn’t have time for the typical full-day, but whizzing around the countryside on two motodops rather than being stuck on a tour bus all day ended up being the best part of the experience. Again, I felt like I had gone back in time because there were random ruins all over the place, nonchalantly mixed in with villages, vegetation, and rolling green hills. At one point, we actually passed a herd of cows grazing on what seemed to be a forgotten (but beautiful) tomb that was overgrown with weeds.
That afternoon, after a well-deserved pizza lunch, we went on a surprisingly scenic 3 hour bus trip to Hoi An that included a pit stop on the side of a beach surrounded by green mountains. We arrived that night just in time for a delicious curry dinner and a swim in the hotel pool. Hoi An is another World Heritage Site, a really cute seaside city that is known for its tailors. The shops were a bit of a tease, because the displays of beautiful clothing were just samples of what you could have made rather than actual garments you could try on. The next morning, we went for a leisurely breakfast by the river and rented bikes that we rode to the Cua Dai beach 5 kilometers outside town. The beach was an unexpectedly beautiful and long stretch of white sand and palm trees. The noon-time sun was brilliant so we ended up hanging out there for a couple hours. In the afternoon, we went on a self-guided cultural tour of the city, visiting wats, assembly halls, historical homes, and the famous Japanese bridge. Most of the bridges in southeast Asia seem to have been donated by either the Japanese or the Koreans, so perhaps they are the ones I should contact for money to build that bridge in Cambodia…
That night we took a bus to the nearest big city, Danang, and flew back to Saigon. The next morning we went on a tour of the CuChi Tunnels, the system of tunnels that the Viet Cong used to hide from the American army and attack from within South Vietnam. Our tour guide was ridiculously prejudiced, but admittedly hilarious; within the first 5 minutes of the ride out of town he was going on about fat American soldiers who smoked too much grass, three-dollar bills, lady-boys, and chocolate babies…
Learning more about the Vietnam War was incredibly interesting, though the extent to which it reminded me of recent affairs with Iran and Iraq was uncomfortable. Obviously everyone has heard of the Vietnam War, but the extent of the damage done, the gruesome effects of Agent Orange, the sheer number of bombs (way more than in all of WWII), land-mines, and UXO dropped not only on Vietnam, but even on neighboring Cambodia and Laos (the most heavily bombed country on earth) is something that I never could have imagined before I came here. It’s truly sad how little we have learned from our mistakes.
On the way to the tunnels, we visited a handicrafts warehouse where we watched Agent Orange victims creating some of the most popular art sold to tourists, including paintings made with eggshells and mother of pearl. Although this visit was obviously more of a tourist trap than anything else, I still found it to be sad and inspiring at the same time, and I was really glad we got to see it. We continued our uplifting (scarcasm!) day of learning about the war that afternoon by going to the War Remnants Museum, one of the most popular museums in Saigon. We ate dinner at a coffee shop, did some shopping, and ended our last night in Vietnam by reuniting with Meghan and Erika at a hookah place.
On our last day in Vietnam, we went to visit the Reunification Palace, which used to be the home of the South Vietnamese head of government until the war ended and the capital was moved to Hanoi. Thus, the palace looked like something straight out of the ‘70’s, including an eerie basement that still housed "ancient" radio and communication technology. Video footage of Viet Cong tanks overrunning the gates to the palace and forcing the South Vietnamese government to surrender was equally creepy. On our walk back, we passed another famous St. James Cathedral, the French colonial style post office, and ate at a yummy Indian restaurant. Then we boarded the bus for the long trip home, including another FOUR (4!!!) hour wait for the ferry. This time we got out and walked around a bit, taking in more of rural Cambodia.
I arrived home around 11 PM to a dusty rain-splotched floor (what was I thinking leaving my windows open while I was gone?). It was weird for me to return a weary traveler from a long exhausting trip without really returning HOME. It brought back all the initial loneliness and home-sickness I had felt in my first few days in Phnom Penh and made me feel like I had to start all over again. It was so sad to realize that after all this time, I didn’t really feel at home here. But I think much of it was just the stress of the crazy trip and the cleaning and catching up I knew I had to do, because after a few days I miraculously felt eons better.
Finally, after a 5 minute ferry ride and surprisingly speedy border crossing, we were in Southern Vietnam. Vietnam was immediately completely different from Cambodia; much more developed and clean, but with surprisingly even more motos and less cars. (Wouldn't you think more developed=more cars?) After a week of observation I have realized that the biggest socio-economic difference between the two countries is the existence of a large middle class in Vietnam. One of the most disheartening things about living in Cambodia is that you can only really visit two types of venues: local places that are a bit scary or expat coffee shops, restaurants, pools, and lounges that make you feel like a spoiled self-indulging tourist. In contrast, in Vietnam it was really refreshing to find ourselves sitting side-by-side with locals in nice places. HCMC was huge and spread out, but there was something enticing about it that I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it was the vibrant backpacker district or the street after street of modern and colorful shops we passed on the way there, but whatever it was made me fall in love with Saigon.
On Sunday morning, we flew to Hanoi in Northern Vietnam and set off on a walking tour of the Old Quarter, where we saw the juxtaposition of brightly colored shops and markets next to ancient gates, houses, pagodas and even a St. James Cathedral! We ate lunch on the top floor of a restaurant overlooking the understated, but beautiful Hoan Kiem Lake. That night, it took us forever to find the secluded Hoa Sua, a teaching restaurant that takes kids off the street to train them in culinary careers, but the atmosphere and yummy food were totally worth it. Even though we had a good time in Hanoi, I still didn't like it as much as HCMC. I think it was too much of a big, crowded commercial center in contrast with the unique old world charm and warmth that I have grown to love about the rest of Southeast Asia.
The next morning, we took a 3 hour bus ride to the highlight of any trip to Vietnam: Halong Bay. I was SUPER excited for it from the pictures I had seen of my sister’s trip back in 2007, and my expectations did not go unmet. Halong Bay is an absolutely stunning body of water filled with huge limestone karst islands jutting up out of the water… over 3,000 of them! Halong Bay is a UNESCO World Heritage Site not only for its natural beauty, but also for its cultural importance: it is still home to numerous floating villages of local fisherman.
After enjoying the view from the top deck of our “junk” (what they call antique looking tour boats) while we cruised into the bay for several hours, we visited a cave on foot and stopped at one of these floating villages to check out their seafood traps (dinner). Then we kayaked around some shallow caves and ended the night singing karaoke with some cool Canadian girls we met on the boat; another unexpected highlight of the trip! Our group dominated the mic until long after everyone else had gone to bed, with the exception of our Vietnamese tour guide who was very serious about his ballads (including Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On,” which he had to share with the Canadians of course).
The next day we went for a swim in the Bay and jumped off the top of the boat, which was absolutely thrilling! Sadly however, before we knew it we were back in an overstuffed mini-van on our way to Hanoi, where I tried to make the most of the afternoon by leading the girls on a ridiculously quick tour of the museum district, stopping (just for photos) at the One Pillar Pagoda, Temple of Literature, Ho Chi Minh Museum and Mausoleum. I knew nothing about Ho Chi Minh before we arrived in Vietnam, but it did not take us long to figure out that he is THE man, the most famous and revered leader in Vietnamese history. Every single village, town and city in Vietnam has streets and museums named after him and a line forms around the block to visit his embalmed corpse (built contrary to his desire to be cremated) in the Mausoleum every morning it is open. The area around the Mausoleum was surprisingly modern-looking and reminded me more of Europe than of Southeast Asia.
That night we FINALLY ate Pho at a fast food joint called PHO 24 (it was still scrumptious) before heading to a see a Water Puppet Show. Even though it was in Vietnamese, the Water Puppet Show was pretty cute, but the best part was the live band who played unusual instruments and the two women singing whose voices gave me goosebumps. Late that night we departed for an overnight train to Hue, in Central Vietnam, that would arrive around 11 AM the next day. We knew to prepare for this trip by buying light silk sheet sleeping bags and a can of Raid, but it was still pretty nerve-wracking to sleep that close to God knows how many small bugs and cockroaches. We had the four middle and bottom bunks in a 6-bunk sleeper; I felt sorry for the two Vietnamese sleeping in the top bunk who had to put up with the stifling Raid, but with the amount we sprayed we probably killed the bugs around them too.
The second we stepped off the train in Hue, we were overwhelmed by about a million “touts”: drivers and hotel marketers vying for our business, so we had to stop for a coffee to clear our heads. Hue is a small city that was the capital of Vietnam during the Nguyen dynasty whose reign started in 1744; I was impressed by its endless riverside parks and ancient ruins. That afternoon we visited its main site, the Citadel, which reminded me of the Secret Garden. I realized I am a sap for ruins, because I lost all my friends and ended up wandering around alone for hours, exploring seemingly deserted old buildings that reminded me of ancient Greece. There were so many ornately adorned gates and palaces that renovation workers had turned some into makeshift temporary homes… while they were renovating them!
The next day Nono and I went on a private riverboat up the Perfume River to the ancient tombs of the Nguyen emperors while Meghan and Erika were on a night bus down to Nha Trang. We had to book the private half-day tour because we didn’t have time for the typical full-day, but whizzing around the countryside on two motodops rather than being stuck on a tour bus all day ended up being the best part of the experience. Again, I felt like I had gone back in time because there were random ruins all over the place, nonchalantly mixed in with villages, vegetation, and rolling green hills. At one point, we actually passed a herd of cows grazing on what seemed to be a forgotten (but beautiful) tomb that was overgrown with weeds.
That afternoon, after a well-deserved pizza lunch, we went on a surprisingly scenic 3 hour bus trip to Hoi An that included a pit stop on the side of a beach surrounded by green mountains. We arrived that night just in time for a delicious curry dinner and a swim in the hotel pool. Hoi An is another World Heritage Site, a really cute seaside city that is known for its tailors. The shops were a bit of a tease, because the displays of beautiful clothing were just samples of what you could have made rather than actual garments you could try on. The next morning, we went for a leisurely breakfast by the river and rented bikes that we rode to the Cua Dai beach 5 kilometers outside town. The beach was an unexpectedly beautiful and long stretch of white sand and palm trees. The noon-time sun was brilliant so we ended up hanging out there for a couple hours. In the afternoon, we went on a self-guided cultural tour of the city, visiting wats, assembly halls, historical homes, and the famous Japanese bridge. Most of the bridges in southeast Asia seem to have been donated by either the Japanese or the Koreans, so perhaps they are the ones I should contact for money to build that bridge in Cambodia…
That night we took a bus to the nearest big city, Danang, and flew back to Saigon. The next morning we went on a tour of the CuChi Tunnels, the system of tunnels that the Viet Cong used to hide from the American army and attack from within South Vietnam. Our tour guide was ridiculously prejudiced, but admittedly hilarious; within the first 5 minutes of the ride out of town he was going on about fat American soldiers who smoked too much grass, three-dollar bills, lady-boys, and chocolate babies…
Learning more about the Vietnam War was incredibly interesting, though the extent to which it reminded me of recent affairs with Iran and Iraq was uncomfortable. Obviously everyone has heard of the Vietnam War, but the extent of the damage done, the gruesome effects of Agent Orange, the sheer number of bombs (way more than in all of WWII), land-mines, and UXO dropped not only on Vietnam, but even on neighboring Cambodia and Laos (the most heavily bombed country on earth) is something that I never could have imagined before I came here. It’s truly sad how little we have learned from our mistakes.
On the way to the tunnels, we visited a handicrafts warehouse where we watched Agent Orange victims creating some of the most popular art sold to tourists, including paintings made with eggshells and mother of pearl. Although this visit was obviously more of a tourist trap than anything else, I still found it to be sad and inspiring at the same time, and I was really glad we got to see it. We continued our uplifting (scarcasm!) day of learning about the war that afternoon by going to the War Remnants Museum, one of the most popular museums in Saigon. We ate dinner at a coffee shop, did some shopping, and ended our last night in Vietnam by reuniting with Meghan and Erika at a hookah place.
On our last day in Vietnam, we went to visit the Reunification Palace, which used to be the home of the South Vietnamese head of government until the war ended and the capital was moved to Hanoi. Thus, the palace looked like something straight out of the ‘70’s, including an eerie basement that still housed "ancient" radio and communication technology. Video footage of Viet Cong tanks overrunning the gates to the palace and forcing the South Vietnamese government to surrender was equally creepy. On our walk back, we passed another famous St. James Cathedral, the French colonial style post office, and ate at a yummy Indian restaurant. Then we boarded the bus for the long trip home, including another FOUR (4!!!) hour wait for the ferry. This time we got out and walked around a bit, taking in more of rural Cambodia.
I arrived home around 11 PM to a dusty rain-splotched floor (what was I thinking leaving my windows open while I was gone?). It was weird for me to return a weary traveler from a long exhausting trip without really returning HOME. It brought back all the initial loneliness and home-sickness I had felt in my first few days in Phnom Penh and made me feel like I had to start all over again. It was so sad to realize that after all this time, I didn’t really feel at home here. But I think much of it was just the stress of the crazy trip and the cleaning and catching up I knew I had to do, because after a few days I miraculously felt eons better.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Meeting the Minister
Just when I thought I had experienced the last of Khmer New Year and was almost ready to get out of the office on Friday afternoon (April 10th), the Executive Director asked me to accompany him to the home of the Minister of Social Affairs, Veterans and Youth Rehabilitation. I was a bit flustered because in typical Cambodian style, no one had told me anything about this until the last minute. This sounded like a very important man and I wasn’t exactly wearing my best outfit nor was I prepared at all, but I went anyway.
We drove to one of the many houses of the Minister with a huge bouquet of yellow flowers. The large courtyard was full of beautifully dressed women in white lacy, ruffly blouses and traditional long colorful skirts, men in suits. The minister’s house was huge and gorgeous, with intricately carved ceiling decorations and immaculate wooden furniture that reminded me of my relatives’ homes in Iran. There were several separate living room type areas, with the Minister and his wife sitting in the center of one while another was being used as a “waiting room” to meet with them. Official looking people and guards were standing and hovering everywhere, ensuring the smoothness of the process.
We only sat and waited for a few minutes before we were ushered into the main area. I thanked the Minister and his wife for their hospitality and praised their beautiful home in the choppy FOB English I’ve adopted here so as to be more easily understood by the locals. They responded in fluent English, which was embarrassing, as I realized for the first time that I was interacting with an entirely different class of Cambodian people. They introduced me to their two young sons who have both gone to high school and college in the States and Australia. I was so excited to meet Cambodians that I have more in common with that we dominated the conversation. One of the Minister’s sons who is now a high official in the Ministry (can we say nepotism, anyone?) even gave me his card to contact him afterward. After only a few minutes, however, we all stood for a very official-looking photo and had to move on to allow for a group of 15 who were waiting for their chance to wish the Minister a happy new year. A few days later, to my dismay (I was wearing a black top and dark skirt on the happiest occasion of the year and looked awful, a fact made only more obvious everytime the Minister's wife tried to tell me I was beautiful and that I look very similar to Cambodian people except for my nose...), the photograph showed up enlarged in a beautiful frame over the door of the DAC Executive Director’s office.
I felt very special, not only for the opportunity to meet a member of the Prime Minister’s cabinet in a small, intimate group, but also for the meaningful conversation and bond that I was able to have with him and his family. It made me realize why Westerners give up the comforts of home to stay in countries like this. Because while back home you may be nothing, here you are VIP, rich in comparison, privy to the highest upper class and almost like a celebrity to people who stare at you in the streets... even when you look like crap.
Nono has told me before that Cambodians just think of us as "crazy barangs" (word for the French that has adapted to encompass all foreigners) no matter what we do, so it's like we can do no wrong.
We drove to one of the many houses of the Minister with a huge bouquet of yellow flowers. The large courtyard was full of beautifully dressed women in white lacy, ruffly blouses and traditional long colorful skirts, men in suits. The minister’s house was huge and gorgeous, with intricately carved ceiling decorations and immaculate wooden furniture that reminded me of my relatives’ homes in Iran. There were several separate living room type areas, with the Minister and his wife sitting in the center of one while another was being used as a “waiting room” to meet with them. Official looking people and guards were standing and hovering everywhere, ensuring the smoothness of the process.
We only sat and waited for a few minutes before we were ushered into the main area. I thanked the Minister and his wife for their hospitality and praised their beautiful home in the choppy FOB English I’ve adopted here so as to be more easily understood by the locals. They responded in fluent English, which was embarrassing, as I realized for the first time that I was interacting with an entirely different class of Cambodian people. They introduced me to their two young sons who have both gone to high school and college in the States and Australia. I was so excited to meet Cambodians that I have more in common with that we dominated the conversation. One of the Minister’s sons who is now a high official in the Ministry (can we say nepotism, anyone?) even gave me his card to contact him afterward. After only a few minutes, however, we all stood for a very official-looking photo and had to move on to allow for a group of 15 who were waiting for their chance to wish the Minister a happy new year. A few days later, to my dismay (I was wearing a black top and dark skirt on the happiest occasion of the year and looked awful, a fact made only more obvious everytime the Minister's wife tried to tell me I was beautiful and that I look very similar to Cambodian people except for my nose...), the photograph showed up enlarged in a beautiful frame over the door of the DAC Executive Director’s office.
I felt very special, not only for the opportunity to meet a member of the Prime Minister’s cabinet in a small, intimate group, but also for the meaningful conversation and bond that I was able to have with him and his family. It made me realize why Westerners give up the comforts of home to stay in countries like this. Because while back home you may be nothing, here you are VIP, rich in comparison, privy to the highest upper class and almost like a celebrity to people who stare at you in the streets... even when you look like crap.
Nono has told me before that Cambodians just think of us as "crazy barangs" (word for the French that has adapted to encompass all foreigners) no matter what we do, so it's like we can do no wrong.
Khmer New Year
With the advent of Khmer New Year, everything in my newly settled home and schedule that I was starting to get used to was suddenly turned upside-down. Things got crazy at work, I started traveling, and even more time-consuming, I started planning lots of travel. So I apologize for not posting at a time when I have the most to post about, but I'll try my best to catch up!Khmer New Year is celebrated in Cambodia, Thailand, and Laos during the week of April 11th, though I think it goes by different names in the other countries. Regardless, it’s an all-out week-long celebration during which most Cambodians go home to their villages to celebrate with their families. I was torn on whether to travel in rural Cambodia to partake in the celebrations or to take advantage of the week off to explore another “must-see” country on my Southeast Asia wish list. In the end, four other volunteers and I decided to take advantage and embark on a trip-of-a-lifetime (more for the company than for the sights :) to Vietnam. Luckily, before I left, I got to experience some laid-back Khmer celebration during our half-day office party at a riverside restaurant…
We left around noon on Wednesday (April 8th) and drove for over an hour, crossing the river to the outskirts or even suburbs of the city. This was my first opportunity to finally see rural Cambodia, and I must admit, it was a bit of a shock. Rural Cambodia, with its remedial dirt roads, is nothing like the capital city. Most of the homes are stilt houses, which are actually really cute, but there are some more pathetic-looking slums as well. The cows are sickeningly thin and bird-flu roosters, geese, and chickens run rampant. Some of the countryside is green and beautiful, but most of it is just muddy and dirty, overflowing with garbage.
The place we went to was absolutely gorgeous. It was a large open wooden structure with hammocks instead of chairs separating each square eating area on the floor, no tables. It was also empty save for us so we spread out and lounged in our own hammocks drinking fresh coconut juice out of coconuts. We played cards (universal entertainment) during which I learned some new games and lost a dollar or two. I learned that you can’t play cards in Cambodia unless you play for money and that everyone slams cards down in an exaggerated manner; it’s just how they play. We had some corn and delicious lychee fruit for snacks and ate a not-so-amazing lunch mostly consisting of fish, rice, and vegetables. There was also a whole chicken, which I had a few pieces of, being very careful to avoid the head, beak, and feet that others were eating like a delicacy.
After the meal, some took naps while others played more cards or just hung out and chatted. I had an amazing time getting to know my co-workers better and finally got the opportunity to take some really good pictures of them that you can see with their descriptions if you click on the link to my Picasa photo gallery to the top right!
Friday, April 3, 2009
Rain
This week I’ve gotten a little taste of what rainy season must be like. It’s been raining almost every night, usually very late or early in the morning when I’m at home sleeping. This makes me happy because it makes the weather slightly cooler and means I don’t have to water my plants (the only downside of having a private balcony, I have lots of plants and no hose so I have to go back and forth with a watering can. Who knew this could be such an annoying chore). Of course it only rains on the nights when I have already watered my plants, never when I've been too lazy.
The one time the rain really got in my way was on Wednesday night when I was at a dinner party with a bunch of Kiva fellows (fancy word for volunteer) that I met last weekend. I had heard of Kiva, an innovative micro-lending start-up, back when I worked in the Technology Labs, so I was super excited to meet real people who work there.
So I'm at my friend’s house when it starts raining at around 10 PM. I was ready to go home, but thought I would just wait it out for another 15 minutes, since the rain usually doesn’t seem to last much longer than that. Well, I ended up waiting 2 hours and it had only gotten worse… So I biked home through a torrential tropical storm and a flood in the streets that was almost up to my calves. This is nothing, as I’ve heard it will get up to your knees in rainy season (because the drains just can’t handle the pressure), but imagine biking through a shallow river, hoping you won’t have to hit the brakes the entire way home! Luckily my friend let me borrow a North Face rain jacket and I only live about 4 blocks away, so I got home safe and dry, at least from the knees up.
PS. I forgot to mention in my last post that Cambodia has no postal system or public transportation system. No local buses or trains, not even private mini-vans like they have in Africa. I expect most of my friends who are in love/hate with the CTA in Chicago to balk at this idea.
The one time the rain really got in my way was on Wednesday night when I was at a dinner party with a bunch of Kiva fellows (fancy word for volunteer) that I met last weekend. I had heard of Kiva, an innovative micro-lending start-up, back when I worked in the Technology Labs, so I was super excited to meet real people who work there.
So I'm at my friend’s house when it starts raining at around 10 PM. I was ready to go home, but thought I would just wait it out for another 15 minutes, since the rain usually doesn’t seem to last much longer than that. Well, I ended up waiting 2 hours and it had only gotten worse… So I biked home through a torrential tropical storm and a flood in the streets that was almost up to my calves. This is nothing, as I’ve heard it will get up to your knees in rainy season (because the drains just can’t handle the pressure), but imagine biking through a shallow river, hoping you won’t have to hit the brakes the entire way home! Luckily my friend let me borrow a North Face rain jacket and I only live about 4 blocks away, so I got home safe and dry, at least from the knees up.
PS. I forgot to mention in my last post that Cambodia has no postal system or public transportation system. No local buses or trains, not even private mini-vans like they have in Africa. I expect most of my friends who are in love/hate with the CTA in Chicago to balk at this idea.
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