How to Drive a Car in Phnom Penh (Part II)

"The traffic code is aiming to provide the prestige and effectiveness regarding to protect the traffic safety, keep public orders/security of the national society, prevent the public properties, lives and advantages of people and State from eventually damages. Globalization, is targeted to educate all people to obey the rules and mobilize them to share in strong opposition to the guilty acts which will breach to the traffic regulations."

Have you ever heard anything crazier?

I think not.

This was on the first page of my little driving manual, right under "the purpose" (as if there needed to be a purpose for a driving manual). This darling booklet included four pages of "rules," four pages of signs, six pages of diagrams, and five pages explaining car parts and various dashboard lights. The English is horrible. Many of the rules and explanations don't even make sense. I rediscovered this when cleaning out recently. I acquired my license in July. It was almost worth coming to Cambodia, just for this experience.

I finished drivers ed in April. However, because of scheduling and visitors, it wasn't until July, I presented myself to my driving school and announced my intention of passing the test. I was given this manual and a photocopy of the written road test, and told to memorize it. This was exam prep, Khmer style. So for about a week, I laid on the cool tile on my apartment floor and memorized the eight page test.

The following week, I drove my moto 45 minutes north of the city to a random outpost where driving tests are administered (ironic that I would have to drive myself so far north, given the reason). I wasn't entirely sure what to expect. One never knows. Asking for specifics is ludicrous. I finally located a Korean looking man, and followed him, knowing I needed to find other foreigners. I was one of three non-Asian in a group of 30 foreigners. We were herded into a room and given the written exam. It was about 80% of what I had memorized. I was the first one done in under five minutes. After waiting over an hour for the result, I was informed that I had failed.

Having failed, I could not take step-two, the road test. I was honestly baffled. No matter how scores were weighed, it seemed unlikely I had failed it considering I had memorized 80% the answers. I suspected this is the step where one greases hands. But I was too proud for that. Maybe I can't drive, but I can memorize.

So I went back the next week, driving in the pouring rain 45 minutes north to this random outpost. There were only about 15 other foreigners this time, including a very old American guy with his super young Khmer "lady-friend." This time, the test was exactly the same as the one I had committed to memory, word for each horribly translated English word. It didn't matter. The test proctor told the very old American guy sitting three feet away from me the answers, pointing to the correct multiple-choice answers on the page.

After passing the written part, we walked through the rain to the driving course for the road test. It had been several months since I had last driven a car and my brain was scrambling to pull up indicators. But I reminding myself that no matter what the outcome, this experience could only become infinitely more hilarious. So with great confidence, I climbed in the ancient white Toyota Corolla (the door barely latched shut) in the pouring rain. Three "proctors" roamed the course while I was driving, barking out orders and corrections. It went well, until I had to make a three-point-turn. That was a failure. It got worse when my parallel parking attempted ended up on the curb.

It was hilariously embarrassing, and the original conclusion was that I failed. But after negotiations between the woman from my driving school and the three proctors, they agreed to let me pass (this is where having relationships and connections in Cambodia truly matters). Incidentally, the very old American guy drove the course backwards (obviously not the sharpest crayon in the box). He passed. Several weeks later, I went back to the driving school to pick up that precious piece of plastic that gives me legitimacy to continue driving.

I had only ever requested that the experience of learning to drive in Cambodia be hilarious. It was just that, completely hilarious, rendering me completely satisfied. The final golden lesson from my darling little booklet is as follows (direct quotation): Be careful in driving is driving art leading us to have always life. 

How to Make an FGD Successful.

Before arriving in Cambodia last year, I had never heard of a focus group discussion (or FGD). I don’t know how that happened. I have a university degree in a social science field. But I had never heard of a focus group which is mildly embarrassing. However, now I do and recently I attended my first focus group.

Here’s the story.

I do a lot of monitoring and evaluation in my job. One project was to evaluate a program which involved my partner helping their partner train commune council mediators in family mediation models. Mediation is surprisingly common in Cambodia. However, normally a respected “mediator” simply tells conflicting parties who was wrong and how to fix their problem…which doesn’t always fix problems or work towards attitude changes.

So these 12 mediators went through a six month course on listening, looking for feelings, maintaining neutrality, helping parties generate options, and when it’s appropriate to give advice.

I was part of the follow up team, conducting a focus group to understand how much they’d adapted the training content in their practice. We asked them to share stories, to share what they learned that was useful, what they wish the training had included, and what they might do differently in future mediations.

This involved driving three hours to Kampong Cham Province on a Monday morning. It involved sitting in a floor (knees together, the polite way) and listening to these delightful people tell their stories. It was in Khmer, but thankfully one of my colleagues with impeccable English was there to me. Afterwards, we ate fried rice and drove the three hours back to Phnom Penh.

We had several challenges. First, observers coming and going during the session (there should be no observers). Second, there was a tight time constraint (we ran out of time). Third, 12 people is really too many (should have had two groups). Finally, the space was long and narrow so people on one side of the room could not hear the other side. My team noted these as important considerations for future FGDs.

A unique challenge to Cambodia is that no one wants to make anyone else look bad, and no one wants to cause you to lose face. As a result, people will tell you what they think you want to hear. This is an added dynamic when people are in large groups, speaking about their experience working with your organization…they will tell you everything was great even if they loathed the very core of you existence. Knowing this, most the FGD involved posing scenarios and asked people how they would respond, “if your son was skipping school, what would you do?” Shifting attention away from yourself helps, but there is always a chance that the data isn’t accurate because people are only telling you want you want to hear.

In general, the FGD facilitator should,

• Paraphrasing to find key strengths
• Maintaining confidence and neutrality
• Ask open-ended unbiased questions
• Move the conversation along
• Encourage everyone to speak
• Help the group understand that no answer is correct, all ideas are valued

Part of my responsibility with this focus group is the analysis. Over December, I’ll be going through transcripts looking for trends, themes, and lessons learned, and understanding how we can improve our training to better meet needs for people like these Kampong Cham mediators.

A personal goal is to facilitate an FGD. It might not happen in Cambodia. In fact, it would be very rare for this to happen in Cambodia. But one day…such a nerdy little life goal…it’s on the bucket list. 

How I can't Write about Mud.

Sitting with my dear friends Michael and Lisa in Prey Veng last Saturday night, I posed Lisa this question. “What will I blog about this week?” She had just updated her blog about Mud. Her street is a mud pit from the flooding and I had even hosed down the muddy shoes outside the house that day. In fact, all of Prey Veng Province is muddy from the record 10-year flooding. Naturally, I had to think of something equally enthralling to blog about. I can't write about mud because I haven't experienced mud like Lisa has. I have to reflect on my own experiences, or perhaps I can reflect on the experiences and stories of those around me.

Just the night before I’d heard stories from another colleague who’s teaching macroeconomics at a rural Cambodian university. He has great stories, about eating dog, kicking dogs who attack him while jogging and playing ping pong with a professor who skipped classes to beat him at ping pong.

Then there was the Danish lady in Prey Veng province doing her PhD research on domestic violence and battering in rural Cambodian settings. We discussed the data she had collected in her latest focus group about perceptions of rape. The data was fascinating; our reactions to said data were shock and horror.

Which reminds me of another interesting person. She’s Italian and volunteering as a monitoring and evaluation consultant with an NGO that does similar work as my partner. We swapped challenges and tools for M&E and then I learned about her, how she’d just completed her PhD in historical anthropology (which is about when my ego crashed), and she’d just decided against getting married and was moving to Cambodia long-term. Completing a PhD and then entirely switch careers, interesting.

Thinking of my partner organization, I consider the interesting donor visit from Friday. Two people from our one donor organization and four pastors came to understand about peacebuilding and the overall partnership. They were Australian, and they were absolutely enthusiastic about talking with me and our director. In normal life, I normally have to keep conversation flowing, but this time I scarcely had to ask one question at all. The enthusiasm and excitement about our work was all the encouragement I needed. 

Still thinking of my partner organization, I was asked Friday if I’m going to wear a traditional Khmer outfit to a colleague’s wedding at the end of November. I deflected (because I don't wear sparkles), and asked her if she had obtained her attire yet. She replied that she got obtained all her wedding dresses, though she won’t be going the customary 13 or 14 bridal outfits. Then I was asked how many outfits American brides wear. “Just one, sometimes two, but it’s often very expensive,” I respond. They were not impressed.

Of course this could not top my favorite Cambodia interaction of all time. I walked in late a staff lunch at my partner organization the weekend after an unusually short haircut (it was definitely short). A male colleague saw me and commented, “Grace, we haven’t had hair this short since Pol Pot time. Have you been to Toul Slang [Genocide Museum] and seen the pictures of the girls with the short hair? You look just like that.” It was futile to explain I was going for “Amelie” from the French film “Amelie.” I felt very insecure, and probably went very red before repeating my standby line of self-defense..."it’s different in my country.”

I cannot believe how delightfully surprised and blessed I am to meet such fabulous people who share pieces of their lives with me, and who's stories sometimes intersect with my own life. However, you don’t have to live overseas for similar amusement. You just have to be live your life.

How to Enjoy Mondelkiri

Can you still blog about a trip which occurred nearly five months ago? I think so. Particularly if it was a good trip. This was a very good trip. I've been delaying visits to the beach given the overall seedy reputation of many beaches. I also don’t particularly like sand. It’s grainy. Thus, looking into research of other options when a very special visitor came through (the most important visitor), I wanted to do something different. I wanted to confirm this rumor that there are really pine trees in Cambodia.

"The Tree Ocean"

Cambodia for the record is as flat as Kansas. (For the record, I’ve never been to Kansas but I know people who have, and the attest to this fact). Anything remotely resembling a bump on the landscape is called a “mountain” and typically has a wat on top. However, if you travel east towards Vietnam approximately eight hours, there are real hills. These hills mildly resemble what I remember from a life long ago in Kenya. Mondlekiri Province is famous for,

a)    Waterfalls

b)    Avocados

c)    Coffee bushes

d)    Illegal logging

Have a little hilly countryside....

Sen Monorom—the provincial capital—is about an eight hour bus ride from Phnom Penh. Several years ago, the road was nonexistent. However, the majority is delightfully smooth. It's a very off-the-path destination since it's so very far from Siem Riep, Sihanokville, and even Phnom Penh. There is also plenty of elephant riding, though this did not feature on my voyage out. In my four day trip to Mondlekiri Province, there were several delightful experiences I would strongly suggest replicating.

1. Nature Lodge. I’ve never stayed at an eco-lodge before. It’s almost like camping. The food was good. The atmosphere was relaxed. And I got to sleep in a tree house with hot water
2. Wearing sweaters. It’s the only time I’ve worn a sweater in over a year. It cools down. And it’s awesome.
3. Driving motos. This will feature on my annual “best of 2011” list. There is nothing quite so fabulous and driving through rural roads enjoying this relatively prosperous rural province. We didn’t find many of the locations on the map, but can you top driving on red clay roads looking for waterfalls? Only with your moto can you explore and see for yourself the unique little places off the beaten path, like the "Tree Ocean."
4. Waterfalls. The largest Cambodian waterfall is 30k outside of Sen Mororom. I regret not getting to that (I do need to go back anyway). However, there are plenty to see, and waterfall hunting is half the fun.You can also swim in most of them, since there really aren't any prohibitions. 



A hilltop wat outside Sen Momorom

5. Pine Trees. Enough said. Pine Trees on rolling hills, what more could anyone want?

I’ve been meaning to go back ever since I went. I will go back. The hint of New-Yorker in me craves hills, and shadows on pine trees. There are so many beautiful places and I feel that behind every hill is only more beauty and secret magical places to discover. So please, hold your breath, there will be a follow-up post.

PS...photo credit to my dearest Jon (because I'm the writer, not the photographer.)

This Post is for Cambodia Year One

It's a terribly odd thing to realize that I've spent the whole of 12 months in Cambodia. It's been fast, it's been slow, it's been something of a rocky moto ride...the moto has stalled out repeatedly...and crashed...[end of metaphor]. I'm now the kid one year out of college and while I know lessons have poured on me like a Cambodian thunderstorm, it's impossible to even label all these lessons much less apply them. However, as I conclude Year One in the Kingdom of Wonder, I'm trying to solidify some of the key messages I've heard.

It's okay to consider rain: It's alright not showing up for meetings if it's pouring rain. However, you must text or call beforehand. There are standards.

Little Can Be Planned: Meeting re-schedules several time, last-minute fixes to every conceivable problem, waiting on tuk tuk drivers, waiting on reports... Flexibility defines our lives, and flexibly must define us.

Lovely People/Strange Culture: I can't quite wrap my head around some cultural norms here. Why do men have to marry women a minimum of five years younger? Why must you have children your first year of marriage? Why is everyone so polite and friendly, except when driving? How can you be content living in a hierarchical social structure? Why do I have to allow people to save face when there are heinous mistakes involved? I've been amazed how pleasant and friendly people are, given decades of chaos and social instability. I love Cambodians, but I'm continually baffled because the culture is so drastically different from mine.

Noise is relative: If you have a party, you must have a PA system blasting the neighborhood with anything from traditional folk songs to Justin Beiber to Jay-Lo until midnight. You are entitled this right, the same way Americans are entitled to "the pursuit of happiness." And when your neighbor had a wedding or funeral or party and returns the favor, you are required to tolerate it..."today it's me, tomorrow my neighbor..."

Paranoia is real: There is fear of going out late because in the '90s there was so much crime (now, there's very little). There's fear of questioning authority...because you just can't. There is fear of ghosts...because they bring death and destruction. Finally, there is fear of talking about the past, because there was so much death and violence...and culturally you can't talk about your mistakes. So tragically, we are bound and gagged by the fears that we ourselves create which prevent us from moving forward and breaking cycles of violence.

Corruption is Real: I have mentioned this before, Cambodia is 154 in the Transparency International Corruption Perception Index. For many, this is simply how it's done and no one gives it a second thought. For others, like me, I still grow upset. Some call it an alternative way of paying taxes. It's painful know it's real. It's painful people are thrown off their land because they don't have current title deeds, and painful that hundreds of hectors of "protected forests" are destroyed because officials are paid off.

Any Question Goes: How much do you weight? How old are you? Why aren't you married? How much is your rent? How much was your moto? What's your salary? In a world where manners matter, saving face is crucial and heaven forbid we end up alone and don't know why, the above questions are exceedingly normal. And when someone rubbed my stomach after lunch and told me it was very nice, it was also perfectly normal.

Growing up is hard: Growing up means learning how to live, pay your bills, build a resume, budgeting,  and balancing work and personal. These are all lessons which I'm learning, and I'm learning them here. It's been a relatively smooth transition, but there have been bumps on the road. I'm still learning how to manage expectations and how to cook better...

Cambodia hasn't been what I expected. I'm not doing the job I was "hired" to do, but I've learned to love pieces of life anyway. There are daily struggles and self-doubts which don't go away. Is this the best way to do development? Are we really building capacity? Do any of us belong here? Are we avoiding systemic injustice because it's not "easy?" Am I personally doing enough to warrant being here? I didn't expect to ask these questions so often. I can't fix Cambodia. I can't fix my organization. I can't fix my partners. I question if I can even fix myself.

Which is why I've concluded that this is about learning. This is just about learning. That was the main purpose of the 12 months between October 2010 and October 2011 and it will define October 2011 through October 2012. I try to soak up everything and seize every opportunity to learn. Because that's all you can do, listen and learn. As my dearest friend Kaylee tells me, "if you're not learning, you're not living."

How Time is Everything

I spent last Saturday afternoon in a coffee shop drinking a lemon shake. Leaving, I ran into someone I know, who introduced me to his wife (I knew of her, but didn't know her) and we proceeded to ask the normal set of global nomadic questions, "who are you with? where are you from? how long have you been here? how long will you be here?" For me, the answer to the second two questions is "one year" and "two more years." This was met with respect and admiration which made me feel validated, particularly because it was Saturday so I was dressed like an absolute slob.

The occurrence left me thinking as I left to run errands. Time is the Global Nomad's greatest asset. This was my conclusion based on this odd chance encounter (which was otherwise awkward because she thought she knew me and I thought I knew her but neither of us really did but we were still pretending that we did and I was still dressed like a slob).

The longer you have been in one location, the greater your legitimacy. You're not one of those short-term-ers. You're clearly committed. You're clearing in the game for the game's sake. I started reflecting back on the people I have respected overseas. Many of them have spent decades overseas in any given country and often they are incredibly humble and quiet people. We respect them because they are deep wells of knowledge. We respect them because they have invested in place far from their home. We respect them because they represent what we ourselves will likely never achieve for whatever complicated reasons.

I have never been that nomad. My intervals abroad have been short and any legitimacy comes from my overall duration overseas. Now I'm in the interesting place of being committed to one place for a fair amount of time. Apparently with that comes expectations of legitimacy as a Cambodian expat. It's odd. That's not my story and while three years is hardly that long, in a world of two-year turnovers, it's indeed odd.

But then again, I honestly don't know my own story. I certainly don't know much about Cambodia. I think of myself as racking up time overseas as time overseas, because that's what we do! The only thing legitimate about me...I legitimately dress terribly on weekends.

How to Visit Singapore

All glammed up

While waiting to board my Singapore-bound plane last Saturday, I realized something; "This is my first international vacation." Sure I'd traveled domestically in Cambodia and in the United States. But this was the first time I decided to leave the country (on my own) for a vacation. And then I panicked because maybe I was misinformed and did need a visa even though I thought I didn't because I had to commit some grave mistake. Alas though, I didn't need a visa, I didn't commit any grave mistakes (besides picking up a disgusting stomach flu), and Singapore was everything I thought Singapore would be.

Orchid in the Garden

Singapore is an anomaly. It's rich. It's prosperous. It's shinny and you can eat of the metro floor. It's an island nation-state. And it has the death-penalty for drug trafficking. Singapore was given perfect geographical location, the same way some people are born with IQs over 115, and in both cases, the world is handed to you on a silver platter. They say location is everything, and they say it all comes down to economics.

I wanted to go because I found super cheap airline tickets, and because I wanted to see if it was really as upscale as everyone said it is. It is as upscale as everyone said it is. In fact, it's more so. I probably saw four Prada stores in addition to every other luxury brand under the sun. I saw the Formula 1 Grand Prix. I saw Orchard St which rivals the Champs Elysee. And I saw AC pouring out of every available vent which horrified all environmental sensibilities. 

A piece of the botanical gardens

But the most beautiful of Asian cities did provide a fabulous vacation. I soaked up the beauty of the Botanical Gardens (complete with a swan lake, a rain forest, a jungle and an eco-garden section). I road a bike down the coastal East Coast Park watching the joggers and the ocean of sea containers. I admired the divine orchids in the National Orchid Garden where there is a section called "VIP Orchids" showing up the exclusive Singaporean hybrids. I enjoyed sitting on the harbor-front next to the hideous yet famous Merlion, watching the turning Singapore Flyer, the sparking lights, and the silly tourists. I walked through Chinatown, Arab Street and Little India, which were certainly inauthentic but no less worth consideration.

The famous Merlion

Naturally, no trip to Singapore is complete without a trip to the malls. There are so many malls. There are more malls on this island then...then...there are a lot of malls. The best (and often the cheapest) food is in malls. The cleanest bathrooms are in malls. Also, the best people watching is in malls. Finally, you are more likely to die of frostbite in these malls, then anywhere else in Southeast Asia. 

Cambodia is so sadly unnecessarily poor, and it's easy to loose perspective and hope. But then there's Singapore. Cambodia will never be Singapore, but maybe one day we'll have more then three malls selling only goods from China. Maybe Cambodia will have a park one day (a true park with true grass). Maybe one day Cambodia will have a vibrant diverse society that seems to enjoy it's diversity. But for now, I'll just have to go back to Singapore to experience all the above.