The Canada Day weekend did not pass unnoticed in this tropical corner of the world - the Canadian Embassy hosted a posh reception for all the Canadian expats in Cambodia. For some reason, this country is crawling with Canadian NGO workers, and we all came crawling out of the woodwork to partake in the free flowing booze and hor d'oeurves at one of the city's fanciest hotels. And don't worry, the event was sponsored by several Cambodian businesses, so you taxpayers are not picking up the bill!
My friend Zach and I scored our invites so it was time to get dolled up. For someone who's been living out of a backpack for six months, it was a tall order, but luckily, a girl at my guesthouse lent me a beautiful white dress for the 'do. We rushed to the market to scour the stalls for a purse ($2), heels ($4) and a dinner jacket for Zach. When I got back to the guesthouse, I felt like I was going to the prom. The women buzzed around me, helping me with my make up and jewellery, numerous photos were taken of me and Zach and then we were sent on our way with the odd stumble from me as I got used to wearing heels again after six months of flip-flops.
We were greeted at the door of the hotel by our honourable ambassador, and yes, a Mountie who was flown in from Bangkok for the occasion. Several Cambodian dignataries and businessmen were on hand so it was obviously an event to showcase Canada as well. A nine piece orchestrata playing the anthem, ice sculptures of totem poles, geese and fish, and images of the Canadian landscape on an overhead projector provided the guests with a taste of Canada. Ice wine poured freely and plates of smoked salmon were passed around all night, so needless to say, we had a most excellent time as we hobnobbed with other Canadians and reminisced about home.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Despair and hope - June 28, 2007
A few weeks into my volunteer stint at CRDT, I realized it's quite easy for NGO workers in Cambodia to become very cynical and disheartened. Corruption is endemic in Cambodia, from the policemen sitting on the city corner taking "fines" from passing motorists to senior government officials pocketing huge bribes from foreign companies to take land away from Cambodian farmers. At the top of the heap is Prime Minister Hun Sen, a former Khmer Rouge, whose violent repression of opposition parties and ruthless disregard for democractic freedoms are legendary. The NGO industry in Cambodia can be just as bad - development is a huge business, with some Western consultants making $20,000 a month! And after 15 years of pumping billions of dollars into Cambodia, the country is still rife with devestating poverty, derelict health care and non-existant social services.
Almost every night, I hang out with the expat community over beers and dinner, and they regale me with horrific stories of greed and incompetence. Like the high ranking government official who accepted $59 million from the Japanese government for their supporting vote at the recent International Whaling Commission to restart whale hunting. The most recent disheartening news was that the government has given the nod to a Chinese company to construct a hydroelectric dam on the Mekong River, 30 minutes upstream from one of the river's most important freshwater dolphin habitats. The dam will surely spell the end to this critically endangered animal and endanger countless other species, not to mention the devastating effect on the poor communities living along the river.
Yet...
For every moment of despair, there is always a moment of hope. For me, that hope lies with the Cambodians I've been privileged to work with over the past two months. Time and time again, I've been struck by their dedication, their welcoming and warm nature, their intelligence and their commitment to the people they are trying to help. CRDT was not the brainchild of some well-intentioned foreign aid worker; it came about because four Cambodian university students wanted to put their rural development education to good use. And what amazes me is that they are all still so young... The executive director is 30, the average age of the 19 staff members is just 27! The staff at CRDT give me a glimmer of hope for Cambodia's future. And I really will miss them when I leave CRDT in a few weeks' time.
Here's a photo of me with just some of the CRDT gang. The guy sitting next to me is Mao - his is an amazing story. He was born into a very poor rural family. When he was young, his father left his mother, and his mother was so poor, she had to give him to a wat so that the monks could take care of him. Somehow, he fought past the poverty that encased his life, went to university and became a founding member of CRDT. He is great guy, sharply intelligent, with a wonderful rapport with the villagers he works with - and he's just 28. Mao embodies the kind of leadership that is so desparately needed in Cambodia.
Almost every night, I hang out with the expat community over beers and dinner, and they regale me with horrific stories of greed and incompetence. Like the high ranking government official who accepted $59 million from the Japanese government for their supporting vote at the recent International Whaling Commission to restart whale hunting. The most recent disheartening news was that the government has given the nod to a Chinese company to construct a hydroelectric dam on the Mekong River, 30 minutes upstream from one of the river's most important freshwater dolphin habitats. The dam will surely spell the end to this critically endangered animal and endanger countless other species, not to mention the devastating effect on the poor communities living along the river.
Yet...
For every moment of despair, there is always a moment of hope. For me, that hope lies with the Cambodians I've been privileged to work with over the past two months. Time and time again, I've been struck by their dedication, their welcoming and warm nature, their intelligence and their commitment to the people they are trying to help. CRDT was not the brainchild of some well-intentioned foreign aid worker; it came about because four Cambodian university students wanted to put their rural development education to good use. And what amazes me is that they are all still so young... The executive director is 30, the average age of the 19 staff members is just 27! The staff at CRDT give me a glimmer of hope for Cambodia's future. And I really will miss them when I leave CRDT in a few weeks' time.
Here's a photo of me with just some of the CRDT gang. The guy sitting next to me is Mao - his is an amazing story. He was born into a very poor rural family. When he was young, his father left his mother, and his mother was so poor, she had to give him to a wat so that the monks could take care of him. Somehow, he fought past the poverty that encased his life, went to university and became a founding member of CRDT. He is great guy, sharply intelligent, with a wonderful rapport with the villagers he works with - and he's just 28. Mao embodies the kind of leadership that is so desparately needed in Cambodia.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
One month in Kratie - June 10, 2007
It's now been one month since I began volunteering for CRDT and my life has suddently become remarkably routine... a bit of an adjustment after living out of my backpack and moving from city to city over the past five months. Every morning's the same: up at 7:30, chat with the young women at the baguette stand in front of my guesthouse as they prepare my breakfast (baguette and Laughing Cow cheese) and a leisurely stroll along the Mekong, dodging the herd of cows who graze nonchalantly all over the road. In the office by 9, lunch at 12:30 with the rest of the Cambodian staff who marvel at how I gobble up the Khmer food just like any other native born Cambodian. Out of the office at 5:30 and I head to Joe's to meet up with the rest of Kratie's tiny expat community for an Ancho (or two) and Western-style dinner.
The work I'm doing is interesting.... I quickly learned that I wouldn't just be doing the communications and PR for the Community Development Tour; I am also putting together the strategy for developing the Tour and creating policies, guidelines and procedures as well. It's fun and challenging to create a project from scratch rather than come in toward the end to help with the communications. Of course, I'm using my communications background to develop an orientation presentation, website content, brochures and postcards.
Yet, after one month now, I'm starting to feel the unmistakable urge to continue my travels. I have to leave the country by July 10 as my visa will run out. I know by then that I will have delivered enough to CRDT so they can run the Tour by themselves. And I'll be ready be set out again to a new destination.
The work I'm doing is interesting.... I quickly learned that I wouldn't just be doing the communications and PR for the Community Development Tour; I am also putting together the strategy for developing the Tour and creating policies, guidelines and procedures as well. It's fun and challenging to create a project from scratch rather than come in toward the end to help with the communications. Of course, I'm using my communications background to develop an orientation presentation, website content, brochures and postcards.
Yet, after one month now, I'm starting to feel the unmistakable urge to continue my travels. I have to leave the country by July 10 as my visa will run out. I know by then that I will have delivered enough to CRDT so they can run the Tour by themselves. And I'll be ready be set out again to a new destination.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Traveller's guilt - May 18-20
As a backpacker, I have joined a peculiar breed of traveller where prestige is based on being cheap: finding the most inexpensive guesthouses, eating food from street stalls and markets and taking local transportation. We proudly eschew the western comforts of hot showers and turn up our noses at air conditioned tour buses so we can live and travel "like the local people."
Yet in the last few months in Cambodia , I every so often become afflicted by bouts of traveller's guilt -- a sharp, discomforting reminder that travelling -- even by backpacker standards -- is an unfathomable luxury that will never be enjoyed by the vast majority of Cambodians. Like when I hemmed and hawed and finally plopped down $15 to hire a moto guide for the day to take me around Mondulkiri - only to learn later in the day that he makes $20 a month.
My most recent moment occurred when I visited Chambok - a pretty jungly area on the edge of a national park about two hours south of Phnom Penh. It's considered to be a successful ecotourism program where the fees generated by tourists - through homestays, local guides, oxcarts rides -- stay within the community and the surrounding forest is no longer logged or burned down. In my role of helping CRDT develop its own ecotourism program in Kratie, I wanted to see for myself the various services being provided by the villagers.
So I stayed with a lovely family who fed me delicious but simple Khmer meals and I hired a young 24 year old woman -- Khem -- from across the road to be my guide. She ended up being a sweet and cheerful companion for the day, and we had a great time learning Khmer and singing songs as we stomped up the mountain trail to view waterfalls.
At one point, I asked her if she had ever been to Sihanoukville, the beach resort town two hours south of her village. She responded with a blank look.
"It's the town where a lot of tourists go,"I explained. "They go swimming and lay on the beach."
I took out a map of Cambodia and pointed to the town. "There it is, not too far from here,"I said. "This part's the ocean, the sea" pointing to the blue part of the map.
She shook her head with a confused look, and said, "What is a 'beach'? What is 'ocean'?"
That's when the telltale pang of traveller's guilt hit me -- not only had she never left her village, but she also had no idea of what I meant by "ocean," even though it was only two hours away.
Although it is an uncomfortable reminder of western wealth and privilege, traveller's guilt does force you to appreciate where you are and what you are doing ... which really isn't a bad thing at all!
(p.s. I have photos to add to this post but I will have to wait til I get to Phnom Penh where the connection is faster!)
Yet in the last few months in Cambodia , I every so often become afflicted by bouts of traveller's guilt -- a sharp, discomforting reminder that travelling -- even by backpacker standards -- is an unfathomable luxury that will never be enjoyed by the vast majority of Cambodians. Like when I hemmed and hawed and finally plopped down $15 to hire a moto guide for the day to take me around Mondulkiri - only to learn later in the day that he makes $20 a month.
My most recent moment occurred when I visited Chambok - a pretty jungly area on the edge of a national park about two hours south of Phnom Penh. It's considered to be a successful ecotourism program where the fees generated by tourists - through homestays, local guides, oxcarts rides -- stay within the community and the surrounding forest is no longer logged or burned down. In my role of helping CRDT develop its own ecotourism program in Kratie, I wanted to see for myself the various services being provided by the villagers.
So I stayed with a lovely family who fed me delicious but simple Khmer meals and I hired a young 24 year old woman -- Khem -- from across the road to be my guide. She ended up being a sweet and cheerful companion for the day, and we had a great time learning Khmer and singing songs as we stomped up the mountain trail to view waterfalls.
At one point, I asked her if she had ever been to Sihanoukville, the beach resort town two hours south of her village. She responded with a blank look.
"It's the town where a lot of tourists go,"I explained. "They go swimming and lay on the beach."
I took out a map of Cambodia and pointed to the town. "There it is, not too far from here,"I said. "This part's the ocean, the sea" pointing to the blue part of the map.
She shook her head with a confused look, and said, "What is a 'beach'? What is 'ocean'?"
That's when the telltale pang of traveller's guilt hit me -- not only had she never left her village, but she also had no idea of what I meant by "ocean," even though it was only two hours away.
Although it is an uncomfortable reminder of western wealth and privilege, traveller's guilt does force you to appreciate where you are and what you are doing ... which really isn't a bad thing at all!
(p.s. I have photos to add to this post but I will have to wait til I get to Phnom Penh where the connection is faster!)
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