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.