Thursday, September 26, 2013

This Post is for My Cambodian Experience



It is with sadness that I leave the Kingdom of Wonder. Wonderful, it has been. I have learned far more than I ever thought possible. I have made friends that will last a lifetime. I've learned that I can live on my own, work on my own and survive, with just a little encouragement from my family and friends. I learned how to ask more questions, hopefully better questions. I learned to sit-at-the-table even when I didn't feel like it.

I thought about staying longer but I'm grateful that the pieces feel together infinitely better than I ever through possible. I overflow with gratitude for the experiences I've had here. I wouldn't trade it, though many nights I cried and many days I plowed through with sheer determination when my heart just wasn't it in. I tried to learn something from each miserable experience, and I like to think that largely, I do take lessons away.

My organization likes to point out we never return from our assignments the same. Well obviously. You never live in any foreign country unchanged. But I am a lifer. This is not the solely defining international home. This is one piece of my story, and a very good piece indeed. It was a good use of three years.

My next story will take me back to Virginia and on to grad school. It will take me on adventures of pursuing important relationships. I thought I would be unhappy but I've begun to feel it's time. You know something is right when you feel a sense of inner peace; inexplicable yet comforting.

What does that mean for this blog? Well, after seven years, it can't stop now. It might take a sabbatical, but it will continue in various forms, at various times. After all, I am a lifer.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

How my street changed in 2.5 years

I have been looking forward to this post for quite some time. For one, I like comparisons. Secondly, this is the easiest method to express in a limited way just how much Phnom Penh has changed over my time here. I live on the third floor of an apartment building and have a beautiful balcony which once offered an amazing view of the city. Now it offers a lovely view of...something....altered by urban development. Apparently all industrious Cambodians want to build a high-rise and make a quick buck from renters. Due to zero zoning laws, they continue to grow higher and closer together.

The first picture happened by accident. The second was intentional (if on a whim). The third is carefully and excitedly planned. Change is fascinating, it's it?

June 2011

November 2012

September 2013

A bonus picture

Just an average evening. Coming home and finding a cement mixer.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

How to Plan...And Ultimately Let Go

Reflecting at one of the highest points in Phnom Penh

Much of my time in Cambodia has been overshadowed by a complete lack of control. I go to great lengths to explain something; clothes at the tailor, how a report should be written, how exactly I want my house cleaned, and how I want a hamburger without mayo. Sometimes I get what I want. Sometimes I don’t. This is how it goes.

Over the past three years, there has been a handful of times when I felt this most acutely. One of those times was planning this year’s peace conference. Helping plan a conference is a challenging, but even more so cross-culturally. Cambodians have a strong opinion about how certain things must be done. I find many of these expectations ridiculous, but this is how it's done and success requires complying.

  • There must be a fancy invitations addressed to the director of the organization you are inviting, and follow-up messages/invitations later on. Nothing may be handwritten, and this includes the envelope.
  • There must be a certificate, even for a short workshop, which must have gold edges and must NOT be printed on just black and white. There must be ONE official looking stamp, even if it’s from Hogwarts, stamps matter, but only ONE.
  • We must sit in a formal U-shaped conference setting.
  • We must be provided free pens and a notebook.
  • All games (including ice-breaker games) must have prizes.
  • There must be games.
  • The facilitator must be dressed well. The facilitator’s appearance reflects the importance of the content.
  • The hotel room must have an abundance of amenities (a conference in 2011 was ruined because the hotel did not provide free toothbrushes).
  • We must all be provided per diems for attending, even if you are fairly middle-class. 

For assistance with these odd social expectations, you must work closely with Cambodian counterparts. For example, after designing a colorful and modern looking certificate of participation, a colleague was quick to tell me that it was “wrong.” Two hours wasted, I went with the opulent cliché option, because that is how it’s done.

Cambodians are quick to complain; “my hotel room does not have a desk,” “my hotel room doesn’t have a mini-fridge,” “the fried rice at the restaurant was too salty,” yes, all this happened. There is a balance between trying to make people happy and just having to let go. We are guests in Cambodia. I remind myself of this constantly and the importance of respectful compliance when possible.

The second part of my plan-let-go process for this event was the content. I felt very passionate about the content and its relevance to our work. I spent days researching a perfect, simple and engaging model to share. I drafted notes, summarized articles and revised several frameworks.

Then I gave it to the Cambodian facilitator. We went through the content, discussed it, answered questions, and made additional modifications. Ultimately however, she presented this material in Khmer and I ultimately attended with no idea whatsoever was being said. It went well! But there were pieces that I wish had gone differently. This is all part of the planning and letting go.

There are things you can and cannot control. There is preemptive risk mitigation. And for all the times I’ve worked so hard to explain to my colleagues not to ask double-barreled questions in surveys, they still occasionally asked double-barreled questions! There are moments when you push for excellence and moments when you just have to let go.  In some ways I’m a teacher and in other ways I’m a student. You do your best, and then you step back, pray it goes well, and let it happen.