How Christmas Unites Us

Time for the annual "Christmas unites us" post. What words of wisdom or words of semi-sarcasm will I speak this year?

Uhh...

....hmm

well...

Apparently after a few moments of reflection, none.

What I do have is profound gratitude for a wonderful Christmas season. I'm thankful for the advent celebrations. I'm thankful for the utterly tacky multicolored, migraine-induing blinking Christmas lights we put on our utterly homely office Christmas tree (when in Asia...). I'm thankful for the InterCon Christmas fair where over 40 vendors of artisan and fair trade crafts brought in a major cash haul from the Phnom Penh expat community, myself included. I'm thankful for the candy canes which can be purchased at Lucky Supermarket, an added Christmas cheer to a miserably hot climate. I'm thankful for Christmas carols and frosted sugar cookies at my work Christmas party. I am thankful for the crazy gift exchange at my partner organization.

Most of all, I'm thankful for my friends. They have shared their Christmas joy with me. They have shared their parties. They have let me enjoy their Christmas trees (I'm so lazy). They have made a family for me while my own is far away. I'm grateful for the people who are so skilled at making Christmas a time where people are united and I aspire to be like them.

I will remember Christmas 2012 as a fine season filled with ever so much food, ever so many friends, and ever so many tacky Christmas decorations popping up throughout this Buddhist country.

This Post is for the Fowlers

There have been many influential people who has passed through my life in the last 26 months, but few have been as influential as my colleagues Ryan and Daphne.

One of the more pleasant discoveries upon arrival in is that with few exceptions, the vast majority of the team had arrived in-country within a 10-month time frame. This meant that all of our three-year terms had substantial overlap which for me, has been a meaningful joy-filled experience. I have valued and enjoyed everyone for so many different reasons. So with Ryan and Daphne's departure, the social fabric of the team will soon unravel, and the dominoes of departures will soon begin to fall. Life as I know it has begun to change.

But a brief interlude for nostalgia's sake. I learned a lot from Ryan and Daphne. I learned about hospitality as they are some of the most gracious people I've ever met. I was always delighted to visit their country-side posting of Prey Veng where you were wonderfully fed, and probably had the chance to do some form of crafts. I learned a lot about linking faith with our practice, and thinking reflectively about out impact on the areas where we're serving. I learned about graciousness in transitions. I got to befriend Maya, a super cute baby that I miss already. Finally, I will always remember the night bus from Luang Prabang to Vientiane were we were out cold for most the night on motion sickness/sleeping meds, then wandered around Vientiane like the walking dead trying to find coffee and new shoes for Daphne. Moments like these become adventures and memories you keep.

Who knows where we shall meet again, but the world is small. I'm grateful we had the opportunity to cross paths, and I look forward to seeing how Maya grows up.

How to visit Chiang Mai

My reason for choosing a Chiang Mai holiday were very unscientific. I read an article in an in-flight magazine. I heard there were mountains. I love Thai food. I live very close, relatively speaking. Thus, an irrational and instant attachment was formed to the idea. I must travel to Chiang Mai.

I choose one of the most inexpensive methods to achieve my goal; sale tickets on a budget airline to Bangkok, followed by an overnight train to Chiang Mai. Overnight is a stretch...more like overnight and half a day, but you arrive, tired and hungry, but alive and well and happy not to repeat the trip back home for a good five days.

Chiang Mai holidays occurred with my dear friend Kelly, Assuie and a fellow Phnom Penher. We are friends because she loves adventures like myself. Kelly was later joined by her cousin Dave. As a trio, we set out on our adventures, constantly whining paradoxically that nothing is as good as in Phnom Penh, and everything is so much better that Phnom Penh. We maintain that Thai tuk tuks are terrible. On this point, Cambodia excels. 

In short, while it’s still Asia, I loved Chiang Mai. It was the perfect respite after a few too many difficult weeks at work. It’s a place you go to relax, to shop, to enjoy a slightly cooler climate, to eat, and to have an adventure.

Mountains: Chiang Mai did not disappoint on its main draw. There are hills and they are green and lush. Coming from flat arid Cambodia, it was soul-reviving. One day we even ventured up the mountains and enjoyed the views and the breezes, praising the preservation of nature and wishing to never return home.

Markets: Chiang Mai has plenty of shopping! There are night markets, Saturday markets, Sunday markets and then the shops. Everything comes alive at night in a colorfully and lively display of life. Many of the products and crafts we saw were uniquely different to others spotted around Southeast Asia, and we enjoyed the creations from a vibrant arts scene. We stayed out very late at markets, a treat when everything shuts in Cambodia at 7pm.

Food: Thai food is amazing. I went to Thailand for my favorite food in the world, Thai green curry. A lasting impression of Chiang Mai was the food scene as well as how cheap it is! There is an abundance of tasty and tantalizing street food. We also did the rounds of Subway and Starbucks, because we could. We went hours in cute cafes with our books with our smoothies and coffees.

Temples: Chiang Mai is famous for its beautiful temples with the intricate gold eves like gingerbread houses, brass bells, and gold domes and umbrellas. We made it one day to the famous Doi Suthup temple located slightly outside town in the trees and hills. Artistically, Thai temples have done very well.

Motos: A new favorite activity when traveling is to rent our own mode of transport. Kels and I rented motos one day and drove around down and through the hills. I do begrudge Kelly for making me do a u-turn on a highway, and for driving on that highway in the first place. At least I can now say I have driven a moto on a highway. We also spent a long time convincing the rental people that “I drive one just like this in Cambodia! I know how to drive!” A short road test eventually proved our point and we were vindicated. 

Tesco: Tesco is basically Wal-Mart. This is the reason we ended up on a Thai highway, to find Tesco. Wandering through a warehouse like store, spotlessly clean, almost every product you could want…a small reminder what America and Australia are like...imagine our jaws mopping the floor in overwhelming awe.

Lanterns: I chose to visit Chiang Mai late November because it fell over a three-day Cambodian holiday granting the maximum time off. This amazingly coincided with the Thai “Festival of Lights.” Paper lanterns are lit with candles and floated into the night sky by the thousands with accompanying fireworks. It was magical and something I know which I’ll never forget. We even launched some of our own.  

Tigers: Kelly wanted to pet a tiger, and because I couldn’t think of a good reason why not to (I’ve done way worse), I did too. And so we went to pet massive tigers. They were quiet and didn’t mind us, though clearly we were extremely careful not to upset thing.

Drunk French tourists: On the train back, we ventured into the dining car where we encountered multiple drunk French tourist dancing down the middle of the car to the Macarena and Mambo #5 which was blaring loud enough to wake the entire countryside and so loud we could barely place our drink orders. That was worth every cent of the train fare. 

How to Plan a Conference (Peace Conference Round 1)

[Some of my favorite from the conference ]

One of my November highlights was a conference that I was involved in planning. Last year, we received special funding for a three-year conference series on peace mainstreaming. Not everyone or every organization has the good fortune of being directly involved in peacebuilding in their work. However, we can all use these values is our everyday work and lives. And so, mid-November, we kicked off our first in the series of three. We had two main goals, help out partners build a small knowledge of peace, and secondly to better know each other. 

It was a huge success. Cambodians are huge fans of going away for conferences, and so in keeping with this exception we went to Kep, a sleepy little seaside town, famous for its tasty seafood and laid-back vibe. We invited all our 14 partners to sent two representatives, bringing in a total of around 30 participants. We had an oddly diverse group of individuals representing the oddest collection of sectors: rural agriculture  education, youth sports, handicrafts, and peace. We also had two Buddhist monks from a new education partner, a first for us in recent years. It was very rewarding to watch the participants become more comfortable with each other over the 3 days, even though they were coming from such very different work sectors.

Something which greatly excited me was that the entire event was entirely in the Khmer language. I don't speak Khmer, so I didn't understand the content, but it's not about me. So often, in Cambodia, training and workshops are held in English, which limits who can attend and the depth of the content covered. From the beginning, we wanted this to be in Khmer so participants (particularly those from the rural provinces) could feel comfortable speaking their native language and build relationships with representatives from other Cambodian organizations.

My partner Peace Bridges came off as the superstar. The director Mony (who I have the pleasure of working with) facilitated. I was immensely proud of this, and honored that he saw it as way to give back. Over the last 10 years, Mony has developed into an extremely skilled facilitator. We covered responses to conflict, human needs theory, and nonviolent communication which was new to most participants and they loved the games and interactive learning experience. 

Some highlights of the conference included:

• Eating plenty of seafood, especially crab. (Before returning, we stopped at the local crab market so people could purchase crab to bring back to their families. This only took two hours, but the fish goes from the ocean, cooked, and in a cooler box within that time frame.)
• Playing games on the beach and swimming in the ocean. We played one game just for fun and one team-building game for which we had a massive crowd of spectators watching us. This was followed by ocean swimming.
• Breakfast and tea time by the ocean every morning. We were very fortunate to find a lovely hotel right on the ocean willing to accommodate our noise.

You know a conference has been successful when the participants later “friend” each other on Facebook.  It’s the way we do business these days. I look forwards to the second conference this upcoming summer. Because when people are meeting and talking and sharing stories, sometimes it honestly feels like being here, and those hours and hours of frustrating reporting might actually be worth it. 

This Post is for Election 2012

Cambodians are pretty comfortable asking each other fairly personal questions. I've been asked my income, my weight, "why aren't you married?" Recently, I've been asked several regarding my political affiliation. The other questions don't bother me as much as the later. [In all fairness, when I commented that "it's not polite to ask," apologies were issued.]

I've been sick of election 2012 since August. I voted in early October. I got my ballot via mail, and held onto it for a few weeks, telling myself I needed to completely research the options (we're also voting for senators). Finally, one Friday afternoon I filled out the little bubbles on the ballet and prayed my soul would be spared for choosing what seemed at the time as the lesser of many evils.

And here we are! This post is for election 2012. It's over. That was a fabulous use of $6 billion dollars and an entire year of our precious time. I've been told I'm in a demographic shift of younger Americans disgusted with the political climate bestowed upon me. That sounds about right. I'm pretty disgusted.

Alas, I do believe in fulfilling my civic duty. It is with great honor and respect that I vote, first from Pakistan, now from Cambodia. I'm thankful to participate in the democratic process. I'm thankful that I'm from a country where I trust the system. Yeah, maybe it comes down to a swing state, but at least I'm not personally hunted down for my political affiliations, at least roads in my district will be paved regardless of how we voted, and at least I have faith that my ballet was indeed counted. I would never trade the blessing of participating in the process of governance. But if I was running, I would be a heck more civil.

How to Mark Kingdom Birthdays

Phnom Penh Ferris Wheel View- Birthday Year  Three

I've just marked my third birthday in the Kingdom. From 2005-2009, I lived in a different place for each birthday. This was followed by a stunning three birthday set in the Kingdom. This both excites and bothers me. Three in one place seems practically boring...well...yeah...boring.

The nice thing about birthdays in the same place for three years is that it allows you to make friends and build on previous years. It's also quite nice when the day before your birthday is a public holiday, as has been the case in Cambodia. I've not had to work on my birthday in the Kingdom (except this year we did have a board meeting I was obligated to attend). It's also interesting how each birthday has been representative of where I have been at that point.

Year One: I had been in Cambodia exactly 10 days. I didn't know anyone except colleagues who I didn't know very well. So I watched movies and later walked to a nearby coffee shop for a mango cheesecake. I was a little frustrated that I hadn't done a better job of moving earlier that year instead of later which might have reduced the self-pity I felt on that day. Year One was confusing and isolating.

Year Two: My birthday fell over Water Festival which meant that I didn't have to work, and I had fireworks on my birthday, what more can you ask for! I went to a beautiful swimming pool with new friends. I count from my this second birthday onward as point when I came to love my life here. From then on, I knew I had friends who I could call on and count on to make life full and happy. Year Two was joy-filled and full of friendfs.

Year Three: While falling on a Saturday (the last Saturday birthday was in 2007 and I went to a medieval Zimbabwean civilization), I had a Board meeting in the morning for one of our partners. However, the day got better and better; silly movies, Indonesian food and a trip to the local Khmer amusement park finished off by live bluegrass music. I'm not that far into Year Three, but it looks to be a roller coaster of friends, work and definately food; feeling at home but also bracing for the unknown.

From here on, I have only more to be thankful for. From here on, we shall have to see where I celebrate the next birthday...

How to go on retreat

I've already been on retreat once this year with my organization. That was in April. However, in October I went on my second retreat of the year, this time with my partner "Clear." I will retreat with my other partner Peace Bridges in December. 

You'd think with three retreats in a year I'd be an extremely rested (possible educated) person. However, this is not consistently the case. I find retreats a mixture of culturally enlightening and mildly awkward. There is also insistence that I join, and so I do. I enjoy myself, but I am always the observer because during the speeches and sharing times, the educational sessions and the praise and worship choruses (both my partners are faith-based), I need translation which means I'll never truly be one of the pack. I'm the observer, albeit welcomed and included as much as possible. This is quite fair. These events are not designed for me, they are for my partners. I am privileged to be there, and I never forget this. (However, there is always some surprise that I'm not high maintenance and I eat Khmer food).

I went down with Clear to Kampong Som several weeks ago. There were 72 of us, mostly male (I commented on this), and we stayed at a swanky new boutique hotel. The retreat consisted of the classic elements; sitting in the shade at the beach, swimming fully clothed, eating seafood on the beach, planning and review sessions, and a capacity-building session. 

There were some highly entertaining moments for me. At the end of the day, these are my favorite parts of any retreat. Clear did not let me down.

• We sat in the shade, under the trees on the beach, hiding from the sun. I was complemented for avoiding the sun.
• When the staff sang their praise and worship songs, they danced Khmer style around a table with flowers on it, just like out of a Khmer music video. (They also used the keyboard as a one-man band, Khmer style.)
• When the different provincial teams stood up to introduce themselves in the first session, they announced who was the fattest in the team.
• I never eat enough, ever, and I'm often told this. Seriously, 10 shrimp isn't enough.
• The first night I didn't have a roommate. She went to stay with her family in town. Two staff apologized profusely, because they were worried I would be upset all alone by myself. (Ironically, I felt horribly guilty they put me in a room by myself.) My roommate returned the second night, and they Khmer staff were happy for me.
• The second night we went to a beautiful beach-side restaurant, arriving at the same time as the most stunning sunset. However, the staff wanted to take their pictures in front of a new bridge going to an island being developed as a high-end gambling resort. The sunset was of no interest. Several people insisted I take my picture in front of said bridge, so I relented. (Fun fact! The developer of this project is a Russian pedophile convicted in Cambodia and Russia who is building this despite the fact that he's in prison. His prison arrangement allows him to leave at night...long-running scandal)
• We had a donor rep from Canada arrive the last day. Several of the managers kept insisting that I sit with him, because he was a donor and they were all too scared to sit with him. The hierarchical Cambodian society dictates odd ideas of who's allowed to sit and speak to others, and the vast majority of staff refused to interact with him. They meant to be respectful. However, ironically, to my Western sensibilities, I thought it was rude because they were ignoring him completely. I spent a great deal of time afterwards analyzing their interactions with me, because though I'm not a donor, I'm seen as someone/something different from them. In this case, I do think my age and gender work in my favor.

Retreats will go done in the history book of my time in Cambodia as odd cultural experiences. But I value them, even though much of the time daydreaming about random things [cost of Coke, nature vs. nurture, and why Chris Brown has a Grammy and Florence and the Machine doesn't which is totally unjust...] while smiling politely in long Khmer sessions while they go over their staff policy. It's just part of the game.

How to Pay Fines

I've been thinking about traffic again. This is largely spurred by my most recent traffic accident in which the moto was fine, the other guy was fine, the other guy's moto was fine, but I had the largest bruises of my life. Traffic can be fun, unless you get caught bending the rules.

After two years in Cambodia. I've only been stopped by the police five times. This means I've only had to pay five fines. It might be amusing for myself at a later date to record these instances. The flat fine for any violation $1.25 as outlined by the Royal Government. However, you must always negotiate down to this price. It's part of the experience. I live here, and I'll take the extra minute to stand there looking sad and pathetic, insisting I only have 5000 riel. Works like a charm. Just to be annoying, I always ask for a receipt, which they are loathed to issue. Ideally, if there's a receipt the fine goes to the Royal Government. I don't know if this is actually so, but inconvenience me and I'll serve it right back.

1. Three months after I arrived in-country, I did a right-on-red. I was naive and overpaid the fine by 75 cents.
2. Four months after I arrived in-country, I ran a yellow light. Running a yellow light is normally problem-free if you're in a pack and the cops can't single anyone out. Running a yellow light solo is a rookie mistake, and I paid two fines, once for the offense and secondly for driving without a licence. 
3. Around the one-year mark, friends and I were victims of a scam. When we turned into a parking lot. This parking lot is on the corner of a one-way street and a two-way street. The cops accused us of attempting to drive up the one-way street, even though we were stopped stead waiting in line to park our motos. Some angry words were exchanged, very, very angry words. Since then, I take a moto-taxi to that market to avoid this scam and because parking is awful.
4. Around 16 months in-country, I drive the wrong way up a one-way street. In my defense, the street wasn't marked. I paid the fine in 100 and 500 riel notes (2 cent and 12 cent notes).
5. After 18 months in-country, I was caught driving during the day with my headlight on. It's a stupid mistake and an even stupider rule, but there is the comforting knowledge that everyone has done it once. There is some debate why this is even a law. Personally, I'm completely convinced it's national conspiracy between cops.

There is also the "1 Jan 2012 Sihanouk U-turn." I had just pulled an illegal u-turn on a major road where the cops camp out, waiting for people to pull this very move at this very spot. On this day, there were cops and they saw me and I saw them. So I pulled another illegal u-turn to negate the first illegal u-turn. I felt very clever. I will admit this was ethically questionable. It did add a good five minutes to my drive home. I tell myself this is karma serving me justice. It taught me a valuable lesson about driving in Cambodia: if you're going to break laws, make sure cops don't see you.

This Post is for TWO Years

It's that time again for another "camba-versary." Moving from one to two years comes with respect. After 18 months, you've been here forever. It doesn't yet feel like forever, but that might come soon.

Year Two has been mixed. It started on a high, only to plummet over the spring and finally begin to level out into a balanced contentment over late summer and autumn. As an expat, the longer you live here, you feel you understand it less and less. You learn that the strangeness and complexity are all beyond what your Western mind can process; a beautiful place trapped inside itself, unable to move forward without taking one step back. Former US ambassador to Cambodia, Joseph Mussomeli, remarked once,"be careful, because Cambodia is the most dangerous place you will ever visit. You will fall in love with it, and eventually it will break your heart." 


Cambodia has broken many hearts, including mine; a beautiful place trapped in the ghosts of the past, the corruption of the present, and struggling to find a path into modernity that doesn't widen the gulf between the rich and poor. Sometimes I wonder if the best thing for Cambodia would be for us to leave and let Cambodia decide for itself what sort of country it wants to be. To deforest the country and sell it to China or to respect human rights. To face the ghosts of the Khmer Rouge or to sabotage the tribunal. Cambodia itself hasn't decided the answer to these questions.

Yet just like the 14 different locations before Cambodia, Cambodia wasn't an accident. There's some reason why any of us end up anywhere at any time. I've been told that if I live my life differently because I was here, that is sufficient. I have learned and grown here, in the most unexpected ways. It hasn't been entirely tragic. I'm proud that I've found my way in the mayhem and I honestly adore and appreciate my little life here.

There are wonderful things about Cambodia, and utterly irritating things. I was reflecting on this recently, in honor of TWO.

Five things which must change in Cambodia:

• Wedding/Funeral Tents. Pitching a tent on the road in front of your house is so two-thousand-and-late people. Please rent one of the many available facilities! Please stop creating monstrous traffic jams. Please stop blasting 11pm street-side karaoke. Please stop the 4am chanting. You no longer live in the province. Urbanize people!
• Sidewalks. Sidewalks are not parking lots, let me tell you. Sidewalks are not extensions of your store. Sidewalks are not locations to discard smelly rubbish  Sidewalks are for humans to walk on. There should also be more.
• Climate. It's so hot. I whinge endlessly about this climate and the longer I'm here the more I whinge. However, if the climate changed, then the agricultural livelihoods which people depend upon would be destroyed so personal preferences must be sidelined in this case. However, I'm no longer ashamed to admit, I hate this climate.
• Trees. Deforestation...(and land grabbing)...enough said. 
• Food. Initially, I was not impressed with Khmer food. Now I'm completely comfortable at partner events when an entire fish is placed in front of me. However, we could introduce something beyond fish sauce and salt for flavors. 

Five things to continue in Cambodia:

• Motos. Motos are a good thing for Phnom Penh. They are small, efficient and cheap. Cars are none of the above and Phnom Penh was not built to handle cars. Continuing bikes and motos is essential. 
• Markets. Markets are fun! You can buy fresh produce, ice coffee, tasty noodles, and haggle to your heart's content. There's something delightfully human about markets, even if they can be too warm in hot season. 
• Holidays. While so many public holidays do prevent work efficiency to some extent, I really love having 17 public holidays per year in addition to my 15 vacation days.
• Buses. It's pretty easy and painless to get around Cambodia. You can get to Vietnam and Thailand fairly painlessly by bus. While they aren't fast, they are air conditioned and you'll easily get to your destination problem-free, only a little worse for wear thanks to watching hours of Khmer music videos. In fact, getting anywhere is easy; motos, tuk tuks, bikes...
• Reliable water, electricity, and internet. Phnom Penh ranks very highly in this regard. In two years, I've only lacked water twice at my apartment. Power cuts are very infrequent and short. Internet is decently fast and largely reliable. Lets pray with all the recent building that these lovely amenities don't stop.

How the King Died

Royal Palace Scenes: Incense, prayers, and flowers

On 15 October this year, former Cambodian king Norodom Sihanouk died from a heart attack in Bejing. He was 89 years old and had been living in China (and North Korea) since 2004. And then Cambodia got surreal.

I'm told it's bad karma to discuss a person's flaws after their death, because even though they're dead, their spirit is still alive and present and if angered, will wreak havoc on me. That's the thing about death in Cambodia, you're never really dead. Your spirit lives on and is still very present in day-to-day life and must be treated with reverence and respect. However, Sihanouk was human, which means he was flawed.

Sihanouk is considered a god-king. Product of the long line of Cambodian royalty, he was installed as king by the French in 1941. At 19, he was slated to be their puppet. He proved otherwise and after a long campaign, Cambodia won independence from France in 1953. After that, he played all sides in the military escalation in Vietnam including the USA and China (all of whom he supported at one point), was disposed in a coup in 1970, served as the puppet leader by the Khmer Rouge in 1975 (who he supported than didn't), disposed by the Vietnamese in 1979 (who he supported than didn't) after which he lived in exile in North Korea. He was finally reinstated in 1991 by the United Nations Transitional Authority for Cambodia (UNTAC), the UN program which poured $2 billion into Cambodian reconstruction after over 20 years of conflict.

Despite UNTACs efforts, by the mid-90s, power lay with still incumbent prime minister Hun Sen. Despite the lively political intrigue, back-door deals, clever power plays, and even a small coup, Sihanouk was never more than a figure head. He abdicated in 2004 and left the country, largely because bad health. On a personal level, Sihanouk had two wives (unofficially, he had seven), 14 children, and was a filmmaker, poet, an avid blogger.

Some called him a master politician. Others called him power hungry. Most in the West agree he was elitist and authoritarian. In Cambodia, he's remembered with awe and reverence, bestowing Cambodia it's freedom from France. He's remembered as a strong unbreakable leader who put Cambodia on the map. He's remembered as the only king who ever "truly loved his people" (a slap in the face to his son and current king). People are genuinely distraught at his passing, young people who never knew him as their leader and older people who remember the dark days. There have been many tears in the last week.

Sihanouk's body returned from China on 17 October with thousands lining the streets to see the casket. He's currently laying in-state at the Royal Palace for three months and sometime after that we'll have the funeral and cremation (date not set). He death was followed by a week of mourning, and a ban on all television programming that showed smiling, laughing, singing or dancing (end date, unknown). Technically there is a national ban on all smiling, laughing, singing and dancing. Water Festival in November was cancelled...again. People make pilgrimages to the Royal Palace to light incense lay lotus flowers, and pray that his spirit will be at peace and feel sufficiently respected, even in death. While down at the Palace madhouse, you can pick up a t-shirt on sale with his face emblazoned in black and white, as well large photographs of him, and finally a few snacks.

I've lived here for two years. You learn a lot in two years. Yet with this outpouring of grief and sadness, with all the black ribbons pinned to tops and shirts, with all the little shrines in front of businesses in Sihanouk's honor, I have an confession to myself and the world. Frankly, I do not understand Cambodia whatsoever.

How to Avoid Typhoid

How does one get Typhoid Fever? Frankly, it's quite disgusting. If you want to know, you may wiki this yourself. The more polite response is that it's a water and food borne disease. Even though this post is titled, "How to get Typhoid," this is actually a friendly encouragement to make sure you are up-to-date on your vaccine and for more information, visit the CDC or WHO websites.

I've been asked frequently how and where I got Typhoid. Frankly, I have no idea. It could have been anything I ate or drank over the last month. Oh wait, that's right, I had Typhoid. The vaccine is only good for two years and only 50%-80% effective. I was probably 12 years overdue.

I had a milder case of Typhoid. I pulled myself together to make it to the doctor for a blood test (I thought it was dengue) and was on antibiotics three days after first coming down with a fever. Aside from the throbbing migraine, if you're lay in bed, it's not really that painful. The high fever and mild psychosis make you lethargic and sleepy. You lose your appetite and all food tastes extremely bad. However, if you sit up, or try to visit the bathroom, then you know you it's not just a common flu and you mutter angrily about living in such a crappy country that can't eradicate a largely preventable and controllable tropical disease. So you stay in bed...for a week...pretty much just sleeping and watching TV. Towards the end, you start to loose your mind because of sheer boredom.

The following week, you feel extremely tired and have some difficulty focusing, but you head back to work because you're way too bored to convalesce any longer. By the end of that week, you should feel largely well, though your weakened immune system might be fighting something else. The week after that, you're still tired and require nine full hours of sleep per night. Three weeks after coming down Typhoid, then you should finally feel yourself again. Through it all, you're thankful there are people who are looking out for you, texting their sympathy, and thankful that in Cambodia, you can order in.

At least now I get to report that I had an exotic and dangerous sounding disease. Frankly, it's overrated. Also, living in the developing world where unfortunately Typhoid is common, there's really no glamour, only pity. Which is why I highly recommend the semi-effective short-term vaccine. Seriously, it's not an enjoyable disease.

How to Survive "High Holiday Season"

In another 10 days, it will be Puch'm Ben. This means productivity-wise, everything is downhill till International New Year. I like to call this period "high holiday season" to distinguish it from "low holiday season" in April/May. I realize this makes no sense. Forgive me.

Cambodia is already notorious for their 31 public holidays. I like to classify them in five categories:

• Cultural Holidays. Puch'm Ben, Khmer New Year, and Water Festival.
• Buddhist Holidays. These exist, but no one in the international community knows them.
• Political Holidays. Birthdays of multiple members of the royal family, independence days, etc.
• Rights-Based Holidays. Labor Day, Women's Day, Children's Day, and Human Right's Day.
• Imported Holidays. International New Year and Christmas, the later being extremely unpopular. 

Schools and government ministries take all 31 holidays. Even if it falls on a weekend, a day is still taken off in lieu. The private sector picks a selection. My organization (and many others) takes 17. I also work with two different Cambodian partners who both also take 17 holidays. While we take all the "cultural holidays" and "international holidays," we vary on the political and rights-based ones. On my calendar, in three separate colors, I record which partner takes which day off. This varies from year to year, and organizations often holidays based on the day they fall (Friday trumps Tuesday, etc). Officially, I'm only allowed to take the holidays which my sending organization approves. Unofficially, if a partner is closed, I usually don't have much to do...which means going to my sending organization's office and writing blog posts.

The main holidays in "high holiday season" include the following:

• Constitution Day (24 Sep). Holiday for Partner1.
• Puch'm Ben (three days in Sept or Oct). Holiday for my organization, Partner1, and Partner2.
• Coronation Day (29 Oct). Holiday for my org, and Partner1. 
• King Father's Birthday (31 Oct, aka, Halloween). Holiday for my org and Partner2.
• 1st Independence Day (9 Nov). Holiday for all three.
• Water Festival (three days sometime in Nov). Holiday for all three.
• Human Right's Day (10 Dec). Holiday for my org and Partner1.
• Christmas Day (25 Dec). Holiday for all three.
• International New Year (1 Jan). Holiday for all three.
• 2nd Independence Day (9 Jan). Holiday for all three.

This is the next three months for me. I was recently working on my department's quarterly report for October, November, December and realized that between holidays, training's, my vacation, staff paternity leave, and retreats, we only have three full weeks of work between now and 2013. As I go into my third "high holiday season," I've realized that it's a battle at work to keep things moving during this period. Life is slow. You can only accept it, plan major activities for January  and enjoy the time off. Very few countries have this many holidays so enjoy it while it lasts.

How to take a break from overseas

It's been a while since I reflected on life overseas. A much needed sabbatical from life overseas was needed. I came to a place where I desperately needed to see beautiful things. I needed to see trees, parks, flowers, and grass. I needed to see tall pine trees. I needed to see hills. I needed to stand in the middle of a large open space and know that no one else was there, except me. In short, I'm told there is beauty in Cambodia, but I can't see it.

I also needed to see people, mainly family and friends. There was a perfect way to remedy this...return to my country of origin for three weeks.

I planned this trip for almost seven months. I wondered quite seriously what would be the most surprising or startling after being away for almost two years. I spent a lot of time wondering if I would feel strange, or if I would want to go back to Cambodia. I wondered how relationships would have changed.

What was most surprising was the feeling that I'd never left. It wasn't strange to be on paved roads. My clothes were still in my closet in my parents house. People still knew who I was...or who I'm related/connected to. It was almost a whole different world, yet also a world in which I also belonged. It is as if there are two worlds, parallel universes coexisting independently, where I fit quite well yet separated by days of travel. It's the strangest feeling! I don't know if I'll ever understand that oddity.

There were several things which are most memorable about my much-needed North American break.

English: I really like speaking English. I love when my humor is understood! I love when I can make small talk with people outside changing rooms or with the check-out clerk. I love the feeling of forming a small bond with someone through our mutual language.

Bike Rides: I knew going into my trip that there would be bikes involved. I also knew I was out of shape (Cambodia discourages all exercise). Thankfully though, I did manage to surpass my expectations of physical limitations and completely enjoyed myself. My beloved Fuji road bike and I were reunited and we still fit together perfectly. It was a delight to experience one of my favorite cities, Washington DC, once again on their wonderful trails, on a bike.

Trees/Sidewalks: Americans are right to reserve sidewalks for walking, and not for moto parking lots. It's also really nice to line them with trees. It's nice that people plant flowers outside their homes for pedestrians like me to enjoy. It's nice that they go past parks with playgrounds. Sidewalks are so amazing.

Landscape: Though I rarely claim to be a New Yorker, I've recently reconsidered that perhaps I actually am. I love the hills and the dense pockets of pine trees. I love places like the Adirondacks, and all the little lakes. It's all so beautiful and living without it does suddenly feel far less attractive. Similarly, there's hardly any trash in the rural American landscapes. This is extremely and supremely important to me. This is why I can't ever love Asia.

Climate: Even though it was hot at times, my hair looks good at the end of the day, I don't need to take three showers everyday, and people run AC when it's unnecessary!

Food: I'm not a fan of food in the United States. Everything is just too sweet! But I enjoyed bagels, flavored ice cream, breakfast cereal, and tasty coffee. Even if you only have these things once every two years.

Relationships with people have shifted. Some are unaltered, but most have shifted, growing closer with some and farther away from others. I found myself strengthened by many people who I value and this was also much needed. I also found that returning to the States as an adult international aid worker instead of as the child of an aid worker is slightly different. Now, I have to explain my work myself, I must make intelligent insightful conversation regarding my life overseas, I plan my days/travels myself, and I've lost the ability to "borrow" my brother's suitcase space. Most memorable, I felt like I had something to return to, my job and my friends, a foreign location that I choose myself and me only.

It was hard returning. I love my little life in Cambodia. I have a million things I'm thankful for. I have a wonderful set of friends and colleagues and all the delicious food I could hope for. Yet Cambodia is so very far away from the States. I rarely see family or dear people or hiking trails free from litter. Somehow you learn to push the sadness aside and live your richly blessed life, your other parallel universe where you also fit nicely. Some things in life will never be easy.

For now, my soul absorbed beauty and I will live off the emotional high of bike rides, bagels and paved roads.

How to move your office overseas

I have moved a whole lot in my time and lived out of many suitcases. However, I have never moved an office. I hope I never move another office. For some reason, some tragically inexplicable reason, I was one of a few people still in the office during the process which was quite unfortunate. I should explain the full story. 

1 April we were evicted. Our landlady had mental issues and thought we were out to get her. She refused to take the rent money because of his paranoia. Her son wanted to collect on it. There was also a daughter that wanted it. The son and the daughter had a feud between them. We decided to get out of the family drama.

April and May we went house hunting. We’d been in our old office for over four years in a fabulous neighborhood. However, we soon learned that within those four years, our neighborhood had been "Khmer gentrified" and we were now priced out. There were also almost no options. Three different real estate agents took us to the same properties. Our boss visited twice, and we took him to the same properties. They weren't even good properties.

Early May we found a good spot in a bad location. Late May, we found the perfect spot but the landlord double-crossed us for someone who offered him more. Early June, we found the office. It wasn’t perfect. The location was passable, but all other options had dissipated and so we settled...like a tired shopper at Best Buy.

The last two weeks of June, we had to clean out old office. There was junk coming out of every cranny and corner. Every departing expat had left old furniture, kitchen wear, and chaos in piles. Filing cabinets hadn’t been cleaned out…ever…and we pulled out telegrams from 1984. We sorted through hundreds of books and DVDs, built piles of broken computer hardware to dump, and furniture that rats had eaten away. Part of this is organizational culture…never get rid of something because you may want/need it later. Part of it is an archaic emphasis on thriftiness; the ability to reuse anything for eternity. A final contributing factor was that our previous year without leadership had literally allowed things to pile up. For days, we continued to pile up trash and junk. We gave away unwanted junk to the national staff who wanted it, which turned out to be quite complicated, as we learned later.

Originally, I estimated that moving would take two days. It took a week. It didn't help that the people hired to wire internet and power took three times as long as expected, slowing everything down by multiple days while they drilled holes in the wall. We moved smaller pieces in a pick-up truck for three days ourselves, loading and unloading. On the fourth day, we hired a huge truck and several moto-taxi drivers to move the larger heavier pieces. They made three trips, and unloaded everything haphazardly into the yard of the new office. They moved the piles of junk I had designated as throw-away, and didn’t move other things I wanted moved. It was a disaster. We let them go by lunch time. However, going back to the old office, we realized they left they had left the 50+ potted plants on the third-floor veranda in the old office. This was the only point when I became angry. However, several of us went back and moved the plants by hand, down three flights of stairs and into the pick-up. No one was happy. 

This was the move. For weeks, we looked like red-necked hicks with junk and  furniture strewn everywhere. We strung up a tarp to house old furnisher and “junk” that no one knew what to do with (infuriating to me). It took weeks to organize the new place and we continued to throw things away.

I learned several key things in the move.

1.    I’m not in charge

2.    No one else is in charge.

3.    It’s futile to have a plan.

4.    It’s futile to explain the plan to anyone else

5.    Unless you are a tall male, you’re ignored

6.    Unless you speak Khmer, you’re ignored

7.    It’s almost impossible to get rid of junk.

8.    Cambodia is where all order comes to die.

Don’t ever move an office overseas. If you do, spend the weeks leading up to it developing your male-ness and your local language skills. Once you’ve done this, then wait for everything to fall apart. Something about living overseas mandates nothing go according to plan.

How to Visit Busara Falls

Level 1: Crowded yet lovely

When you watch Khmer music videos, Cambodia's finest glories are commonly and glorious featured. This includes shots to seafood, the the largest bridges in the country (albeit financed by China), a strange "modern" place known as "Diamond Island," rice fields, and often Cambodia's largest waterfall. (Apparently there is also a folk song about Cambodia's largest waterfall, but I don't speak Khmer so how would I know.)

Busara Falls (this is how I decide to spell it) is located in Mondlekiri Province. Mondlekiri is home to many waterfalls and not many people. It's also quite popular with Khmer tourists who are anxious to enjoy arguably Cambodia's most beautiful province. Mondlekiri and Busara are not common destinations for Western tourists given it's very remote location.

Level 1: Features swimming options

Busara Falls is about 43 kilometers from the capital town Sen Monorom. You can either rent a car or rent a moto to get out. A trip by moto is impossible during the rainy season, because there are two long stretches of dirt road. If you go in mid-May as I did this time around, a moto trip is a beautiful excursion and takes about an hour.

There are two levels of falls. The first is approximately 15 meters long and 20 meters high. This is easily accessible and extremely popular with Khmer tourists. Busara is located in a tight ravine, so the concentration of people in a small area feels suffocating. One should never go over a national holiday. I went over the King's Birthday and there were buses in the parking lot with hundreds of visitors.

Level 2: The Best One

Given that there are few safety regulations in this part of the world, you can also swim directing in the huge waterfall, which many people do! People enjoy swimming in the falls, BBQing and picnicking next to the falls, and dressing up in the traditional clothing of ethnic minorities and posing by the falls (ie. imagine paying to dress as a Native American and standing in front of Mount Rushmore, you get the picture). Cambodians in general truly love taking pictures and Busara is a prime destination for posing and flashing the bunny-ears fingers. Overall, it is a pleasure to see people taking joy in the beauty their country offers.

The ladder down to the second level

The second level is further down the river and hardly accessible. You have to drive over the top of the falls, trek through a "path" in the woods, climb several hundred feet down a ladder, and viola, you have found arguably one of the most perfectly beautiful spots in all of Cambodia. Few people make it this far, because it's truly nearly impossible. It's by far more beautiful than the first level, and is around 24 meters across and 20 meters high. This is a highly enjoyable experience as most people don't realize accessibility is an option, and even fewer would make the trip even if they did. It's a perfect place for a picnic and a lay in the sun.

While it's far away and in a remote corner of Cambodia, Busara certainly warrants a visit. However, please don't dress up as an ethnic minority. Just think of the humiliation if you ever ran for public office and those pictures surfaced.

How to Ride an Elephant

Join the Adventure!

I have never had much desire to ride an elephant, or a camel, or a even a horse. But siting on my patio one evening, I conducted a more thorough mental examination of the issue. If I don't ride an elephant now, I may not have the opportunity to do it again. I should be able to say I've ridden an elephant, because that seems really cool, which seems like a good enough reason. This was, I confess, my shameful motivation.

Yet how does one ride an elephant? They are such very large animals, presumably wise yet consistently obsessed with their primal need to consume 300 kgs of food daily.

First, one goes to Mondlekiri Province. This is one of the few places where one can ride elephants in Cambodia. In this region, there are many options for those seeking the elephant riding experience. We [myself and our three "interns" who journeyed out for the long weekend over King Sihamoni's birthday] arranged the adventure through our guesthouse who packed us out with six other Western tourists to a small minority village. A total group of 10 went out, on five elephants, with perhaps 10 Khmer guides and random observers.

Secondly, one must climb up a ladder into a small basket. This might be the most terrifying part of the entire process. Once you reach the top of the ladder, you have to climb further into a small basket. You are climbing over a live animal and somehow he stands still as a puny human asserts her dominance and props herself in this small basket. At last you find yourself seated with your feet under your chin, crushed against a fellow passenger, and a small child sitting behind the elephant's ears with a stick to "drive" it. You are easily 10 foot on the ground, and you realize a kid is managing this large animal, and then you consider if perhaps there was something more sane you might have considered instead of elephant trekking.

Third, one must hold on and brace oneself. Elephants are heavy-footed animals and utterly incapably of anything other then violent jerking as they plod forward. You have to somehow anticipate their movement and sway with them, all the while unable to readjust in your basket. On the other-hand, they are very surefooted, and low and behold, can ford streams and rapids!

Finally, enjoy! It's a little challenging to enjoy swaying in a basket on top of the world's largest mammals. However, once you get the hang of the rhythmic jerking and overcome the five minutes of fear, it's a priceless experience. You ride through forests, through streams, past a field of marijuana, and think to yourself, I'm glad I'm actually giving this a shot. 

How to Celebrate Khmer New Year: 2nd Edition

For my second Khmer New Year (and my third New Year within 2012), a new adventure was required. This year is notably for me because it's "my year," the Year of the Dragon" on the Chinese calendar and they only come around once every 12 years.

This year I went to Koh Thmei. It's a very tiny unknown island in Kampong Som Province, 30 kilometers from Kampong Som town (otherwise known as Sihanoukville). While the island has been here for ages, we stayed at a nice new resort owned by a German couple. There was a sense of tension when seven loud an energetic girls showed up. But we calmed ourselves down considerably and allowed for plenty of island peace for the few other guests.

Gettings to Koh Thmei is a small adventure. It requires driving the five hours down towards Sihanoukville, but turning 30 kilometers north of the town and heading on a rural dirt road. Eventually, you arrive a tiny congested fishing village. From there, you hop on a small boat and ride out towards the island for yet another hour. It's an adventure for the faint-hearted and the brave...but still an adventure.

While it seems mandatory to write about my Khmer New Year: Dragon/12, the summation is actually underwhelming! I read two books, laid on the beach, ate lots of food, went for short walks and enjoyed the breeze, the bright sunshine, and both the sun and the rain.

My only complaint is regarding sand flees, which are nasty creatures leaving you itchy well over a week after the encounter. I've no doubt the year can only improve from here.

How to Commemorate Labor Day

In the US, we've lost all sight of Labor Day. It's that three-day weekend in September, the end of summer, the beginning of the academic season, and a nice weekend to travel. Does "labor day" assist us in appreciating how good we have it? Strangely, yet also unsurprisingly, it does not.

Yet for the rest of the world, Labor Day is 1 May and it really is about a celebration of the international labor movement. For Cambodian civil society members, human rights activists, and those employed in sectors most prone to abuses of labor laws, it's a day to restate global commitment to ensure that everyone has the right to a safe and decently compensated place of employment.

For this Labor Day, I joined with some colleagues and several thousand Cambodians (predominately women), in a march along the Phnom Penh riverside. Most of those in the march were young Cambodian women from the garment industry.

Cambodia has been both blessed and challenged in recent years as it's joined the up-and-coming nations involved in textile manufacturing. Nike, Gap, American Eagle, Adidas, Levi, A&F, among many others outsource garment production to Cambodia. The result has been an overwhelming number of young women from rural areas flooding into the Phnom Penh suburbs for employment, a new booming economy. However, these women, poor and uneducated, are often at risk of exploitation. They are paid $61 per month with no overtime and certainly no benefits. Even in Cambodia, $61 is far below a "living wage." For years, human rights activists have been pushing for the minimum wage to be increased and for factories conditions to be improved. Mass faintings are common in factories where there is no airflow and a high concentration of dust and chemicals.

Also represented in this year's Labor Day march were tuk tuk drivers and moto taxis, a sector completely unrepresented and unprotected in the Cambodian labor laws. As far as the government is concerned, these sectors don't exist.

For the march, we walked to the National Assembly and requested for a representative to come and take the petition jointly signed by members of the garment and transport sectors. Not surprisingly, no one came out.

Still, it was a remarkable event, the joining together of several thousand members of unrepresented sectors, surrendering their day off to signal support for justice and a fair wage. Large gatherings are largely discouraged in Cambodia, but on Labor Day, for once, a crowd marched through Phnom Penh. And just for today, remarkably, it was peaceful.

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.