How to Survive Hot Season

I like to think of myself as a very rational, logical, common sense type of person. However, I've been loathed to write about hot season, for fear that I'll jinx it and make it even hotter. This fear forces me to look deep within myself and admit that I am superstitious. This superstitious fear of increased heat also comes from a tiny place of relief inside of me. Because for a whole, it was hot, but not unbelievably hot and we allowed ourselves the arrogant thought that hot season wouldn't be that bad this year.

However, in the past three weeks, the heat went from tolerably hot to inexplicably hot, when you sweat before 7:30am, when nothing you wear is cool enough, when you can't manage to consume enough water. Everyday for the last few month, I asked my Khmer colleague if it will get hotter. Every time he laughed at me and said, "yes, it will get more hot." Until last week when I finally got the answer I wanted, "it is the most hot now." This is comforting because it means we can only get cooler.

Hot season is aptly named, because it is so hot. It starts early March and runs through the end of May (all dates approximate). A perfect hot season should see no rain. However, we've had a few thunderstorms which are also extremely welcome. When you first arrive in Cambodia, you wonder why people are up at 5am. Upon reaching hot season, this quickly makes sense because often by 9am, it's already soring into the high 90s. When I get home from work, it averages 96 in my house, so I open all the windows and doors and it cools down to the low 90s. Driving after 10am is much the same as driving into a hair dryer, and the breeze on your face which is often so welcome, is hot and smoggy and you can literally imagine the smog is sticking to your sweaty face. If that sounds nasty, it's because it is, incredibly nasty.

There are several coping strategies to hot season.

• Cold showers. A truly hot day in hot season, can call for three showers.
• Mangoes: Hot season is when mangoes are in season, and so unbelievably cheap that you start to drool. 
• Work: I don't at all mind going to work. It means the opportunity to be air conditioning because after 10am, my house heats up like an oven.
• Sun: The sun also seems harsher in hot season, and I tan on my mere 20 minute afternoon commute to my partner organization. I also burn after not that much more time outdoors. Still, a nice tan from a seasonal change isn't inherently bad.
• AC (also known as "air con"): I do have AC in my house, which is reserved exclusively for sleeping or the electric bill is outrageous. AC five years ago, was considered luxurious and unnecessary. Thank God I didn't live here five years ago.
• Common Misery: The nice thing about hot season is that everyone experiences it together. Even with AC, the sun shines on the just and the unjust. I take comfort that even with sweat rings, damp clothes, and a greasy face, everyone else looks about the same. The standards lower ever so slightly, and without this, I wouldn't survive quite so well.

Technically, we're about halfway through hot season 2012. We can only hope and pray that it end "on time," or that June's rains come early. I'm not quite so superstitious about rainy season.

This Post is for Halfway

I can't help notice on my calendar, that I've been living in Cambodia 18 months. That totals to exactly half of my time in Cambodia. Of course, extension is always an option, but the likelihood of a new adventure in the likes of Timbuktu, Vanuatu, Slovenia is rather high. Historically, my immediate family is incapable of staying in one place longer than three years, so I must carry the torch forward.

I have a love/hate relationship with Cambodia. I love my life; my friends, my church, my colleagues, most of my job, and the rich abundance of easily accessible vacation destinations. But I struggle with the systemic injustices; the land evictions, the overcrowding of cities, the harsh working conditions of garment workers, the high rates of domestic violence, the massive corruption. I've gone through stages of anger at Cambodia for these senseless tragedies that could so easily be avoided. I've also experienced times of hope and excitement, seeing positive change at the periphery. This is life as a global nomad. You can't compare with your home country because that's unfair. You can however be frustrated that change is a slow and dynamic process which can often include regression.

But now that I've summited the mountain and finished the hardest part, I expect a fast decent. Time only goes faster when you're having fun. And for the record, life is so, so good.

How to Enjoy 36 hours in Kampong Som

Every year, I'm given the pleasure of two annual retreats. The first is the national retreat which includes all the national staff and their families. The second is the regional retreat, and previously included the program staff across Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos, rotating among the three countries. The former took place last weekend, with over 50 people traveling down to Kampong Som, staff and family members.

Kampong Som (featured in several other earlier posts, also known as Sihanoukville), is five hours south by bus. The idea of an overnight trip was initially repulsive. However, at it's conclusion, it was rather enjoyable!

Cambodians and expats have very different ideas about the beach. This is manifested in four primary ways.

First, Cambodians only swim fully clothed; denim or khaki shorts, t-shirt, jeans, and even a hat. Cambodians have an uncomplicated view on swimsuits; "you're wearing underwear in public." Needless to say, because we know this view and because we're trying to be sensitive, we wear a t-shirt and athletic shorts, over our swimsuits. 

Second, swimming fully clothed ties into another Cambodian value, white skin. Beauty and desirability are connected strongly to fair skin, and women will go to great length to whiten their skin. This is extremely obvious at the beach where there are "pavilions" with tables for the Cambodians to sit in the shade, and the normal sun lounge/beds for the expats. The two values coincide no more apparent than on same strip of land alongside the ocean. Cambodians would never lay in the sun. Expats would never come to the beach in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

Third, another common Cambodian beach value is the acquisition of food from the market. This market is a 10 minute moto/tuk tuk ride away, and inevitably Cambodians will bring food from the market to eat on the beach. The expats would prefer to just buy food at the beach. The price is almost identical, but this is how it must be done.

A final prominent difference is travel to a vacation destination. As expats, we climb on the bus and expect to make one bathroom break, and arrive at our destination as fast as possible. Cambodians enjoy making frequent stops on the way; stop for breakfast 45 minutes after departure, stop for snacks 45 minutes after that, stop 45 minutes after snacks for the toilet, stop another 45 minutes after that for lunch... The journey is part of the adventure and it's an infinitely social experience. For expats, it's maddening.

Our values are quite apparent in how we all perceive the same retreat experience. The emphasis is relationship-building and spending time with each other. But with such prominent language and cultural barriers, beyond the silly ones mentioned above, friendships require far more time and effort. It doesn't fit neatly into a 36-hour retreat. It takes a whole lot more time.

How to Think

One of the strangest things about my job is precisely how I'm valued. I'm here because of how I think. I'm valued for how I think.

Cambodians are intelligent people. Everyone is inherently intelligent. It would be both egocentric and ethnocentric to suggest otherwise.

But in the globalized industrialized world of 2012, where economics rule, power is purchased and a hybrid American/European culture is the standard for modernity, we have to think like Westerners. We have to think in logical sequence, start with a pros/cons list, identify risks, manage risks, always stick to the plan. We criticize anything with inconsistencies. Truth must be sought and provided scientifically, and hold up in separate instances. We look for successful yet innovative patterns to replicate. We respect no one, unless they've demonstrated themselves as worthy. 

I think like this. This was how I was educated. Now somehow I'm in this odd situation where I'm inadvertently instructed to teach others to think like this. It's a very strange demand, quite "modernizationist." The pressure can sometimes be enormous because rewiring how people think is quite impossible. Who's to say how I think I better? I have questions about how I think. I was educated to think like a Westerner while simultaneously educated to criticizes that very quality.

I've not been in Cambodia long enough to make wide sweeping judgements about how everyone thinks. I can say that it's more cyclical. Liner logical thinking is a challenge for many Cambodians. There is an acceptance of the status quo. There is a concentration on short term outputs. There's a tendency to do the same thing over and over again, without modifications. Direct confrontation is avoided, in all situations. Yet also, there is a loyalty to family, the ability to accept life as is, and a deep respect for authority. 

For the purposes of project planning and in order to secure Western funding, Cambodian leaders are demanded to think like Westerners; to fill out logical frameworks and develop a long-term sustainability strategies. For now, this is how it is, and someone has to explain these foreign Western expectations. Sometimes with my partners, that person is me. And if I'm going to be stuck in that situation, the least I can do--or anyone else--is be gracious, patient, and respectful. It's not a one-way street. I want to learn how to think like an Easterner, or a Cambodians. There is value and beauty in taking the best of both. The Cambodians I work with are sharp, intelligent, even creative people. They just don't think like Westerners.

How My Street Developed

My Street: Toul Tom Pong
(Clockwise from top left, street, street, Neighbor Two, Neighbor  One, Neighbor Three)

Phnom Penh is developing.

When I arrived Halloween 2010, Phnom Penh was...a city...I guess... The vast majority of buildings averaged three or four stories. Everything worth getting to is within a five mile radius. There was only one completed "skyscraper" and two half-finished "skyscrapers." It all felt very backwater capital.

One day I woke up and noticed the cityscape from my third floor apartment balcony was different. Numerous aspiring 10 and 15 story building ascended into the muggy sky. The stalled skyscraper restarted construction, along with several other tall buildings. Everyone I know has a construction site on their street.

Including my street. I moved into my apartment February 2011. On my right, an apartment building was under construction, and at the time was three floors tall. As the months of sawing metal and banging concrete passed, the massive building tapered off at a mere six stories (the tallest on my street by far). The neighbor diagonally across the street noticed. Around August 2011, he tore down his shabby estate and decided he needed a villa (at least it looks like a villa, we're only on the third floor at the moment). This put a neighbor two doors down to shame, and in December 2011, this neighbor tore down his two floor home crammed between several similar buildings. For a window of time between January and February, all three neighbors polluted my beloved street with noise so deafening, so obnoxious, so utterly early in the morning...I considered moving.

Thankfully, neighbor-number-one's six story building is done and people moved in over the last week. Neighbor-Number-Two's villa continues, and Neighbor-Number-Three's future residence hasn't taken shape.

Development is a good thing. Hygiene, access to education, and reduced extreme poverty are unquestionably good things. But thanks to development, Phnom Penh's wooden houses, so full of character and history are torn own in favor of concrete blocks. It's the age of concrete, monstrous buildings on tiny lots, and air conditioners.

How to Attend a Khmer Wedding [Take Two]

Amara and Marti's wedding in Kratie

It took effort in my December 2011 post to conceal my disappointment with Khmer weddings. I was under-whelmed with the whiskey and Angkor, the fake eye-lashes, and the inability to speak to other people at one's table thanks to the incredibly loud music. My second attempt was far more enjoyable. This was due to one factor alone. I went with people I knew, and I knew the bride more closely, Amara.

One should never attend weddings alone which is probably a universal truth. Never has this been more true then when in a foreign context (which is where I have a majority of my wedding attendance experience). While I completely support self-sufficiency and independence, weddings alone are awkward.

My second wedding was in Kratie (Kratie is explore in another post). There were several other variables which made this attempt significantly better then the first.

• Provincial. In Phnom Penh, there are two options for weddings. First, set up a tent on the street in front of your house and block traffic. Second, rent a wedding hall. There are an abundance of wedding halls. Typically one hall can host/cater several weddings at once, with partitions between the weddings and the guests entering through doors A, B, or C, respectively. One delightful element of Amara's wedding was that it was at her childhood home, and the tent was at her family's property. This added a personal touch. 
• Colorful Outfits. We counted eight outfit changes for Amara. A full wedding goes all day; the fruit parade to the bride's house, the hair cutting ceremony, (a few more other ceremonies I don't know about) and then the evening party. The bride and groom as expected to change somewhere between six and 12 times over the day, each time a colorful outfit perfectly coordinated from the earrings down to the shoes, matching their new spouse.
• Tasty Food: I've only heard terrible things about wedding food. I was completely surprised to leave completely full; banah leaf salad, BBQ beef (with actual meat on the bones), and a lovely roasted fish were among the most memorable. Our "desert" was mint chewing gum. (That might also just be a province thing.)
• Finished Early. Another benefit of a provincial wedding is that by 9:30pm, it's about over! The dancing had finished, the guests were trickling out, and we eventually left and had our own after-party.
• Friends. As mentioned early, don't go to a wedding alone. Because sitting a table with people you know, and dancing to Khmer music with people you know, and watching the sparkly outfits with people you know, is just so much better.

I will allow myself one criticism on Khmer weddings. They are nearly all exactly the same. The same rituals are conducted, the same color scheme is used for every tent, the same fancy outfits are worn, the same "wedding food" is served, and the same 300-400 people party. There is no variation, no room for creativity, no option to have less then 300/400 people. Perhaps it's very Western of me, suggesting that the exercise of individuality risk breaking social norms, but part of my motivation for questioning this norm is the vicious wedding financial cycle. People often lay out way over $10,000 per wedding which might not sound like much, but the per capita income in Cambodia is $615. Financing these weddings is a massive financial stress. Often, people don't get married because their families cannot finance the wedding. People hope they make back that amount when each guest brings the socially mandated $20, but it's a huge gamble. If it rains and people don't come, you'll never crawl out of that financial hole.

But this is how it is. This is what's expected of you. In some strange way, the security of a predetermined script allows you to save face. You don't have to be unique. It's all be decided for you. No one will think less on you or your family if you do it the right way. You just have to figure out how to pay for it. 

How to see freshwater dolphins [Kratie]

Kratie is known for the endangered Irrawaddy fresh water dolphins. They are found in the tiny bit of water on the Mekong Delta, quite far indeed from the Irrawaddy River in what is now called Myanmar. This is the first mystery of dolphins. The other mystery is what exactly they look like.

I was in Kratie just after the New Year for the wedding of a colleague. It was a classic overnight trip; leave Friday morning, drive five hours, arrive at noon, have lunch, take a nap, attend wedding, wake up, see dolphins, lunch, back in the van, sleep all day Sunday. 

This wedding was convenient. Kratie is quite far West. I needed an excuse to go for the dolphins. Kratie is a charming little town. My colleagues and I voted it one of the nicer provincial capitals, as well as counting at least four restaurants catering to Westerners, solidly pleasant while not overwhelming. Kratie is off the beaten trail for backpackers, but it's still makes the cut for enough, based on our observations.

The dolphins are located at least 14 kilometers away from Kratie town. It's a quick 20 minute tuk tuk ride through villages which all looks very typical rural Cambodia. Then you pay a fee covering the cost of a renting a boat for one hour to cruise around the one specific river area where there are dolphins. I was with a group of around seven coworkers and we were determined to not only see these dolphins, but photograph them.

I gave up on photographing the dolphins around five minutes into it. I just barely got one, and this was sufficient. They reveal their backs and tails, the boat charts a course towards them, they resurface if they will, but typically they do not. You cruise around on the boat which thankfully has an awning, and enjoy the cool breezes on the water.

The best part of the dolphin adventure was paying just a little extra and cruising north towards the river sandbars. There we climbed out and saw the rapids, crawled through the sand, and had the time of our lives in this beautiful nature. This was the best, undoubtedly. Then again, how often does one see freshwater dolphins?