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.