How to Visit Singapore

All glammed up

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

Orchid in the Garden

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

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

A piece of the botanical gardens

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

The famous Merlion

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

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

How There is No Fall

I didn't grow up with Fall/Autumn. I grew up where there was dry season and rainy season. So when I observed the magic that is Fall/Autumn last year and the year before, I was unspeakably enthralled. The leaves literally changed colors and fell off the trees against the flawlessly blue skies! And then, there was squash at the store! And there were pumpkin flavored bagels and coffees! And then, we got to wear cute hats and pretty scarves. Fall was fabulous. My first year, I thought it was sad watching my beloved trees die. The second year, I was further North where the leaves are more beautiful and it didn't bother me quite so badly.

Even though I only saw two falls, I concluded it had potential to rival my favorite season of all time, summer. People from New York are supposed to love fall, therefore this fatal attraction is genetic. I learned that long walks with leaves crunching underneath is magic. 

Even through I only saw two falls, I strangely miss it. As my Cambodian existence shifts through rainy season, and September flies by, I'm well aware of the pumpkin bagels being consumed, and the cute hats being worn, and there is some nostalgia. Life in Cambodia and indeed a majority of my life has been a perpetual summer. I love summer! But this uniqueness that is Fall in Northern North America is priceless and non-replicated anywhere else.

For now, living in eternal summer, I'm marking the passage of time by vacations. Sure there are seasons, but I'd rather mark it by my vacations.

This Post is for 9/11

I watched the 9/11 date encroaching. The headlines weren't exactly discrete but I will admit that I avoided facing it. And yet it came. And with it came the feelings I remember as the 12-year-old kid standing in front of a hotel TV in Colorado Springs CO exactly 10 years ago. That was the day I really put my finger on what terrorism was/is. That was the day I first learned of Osama bin Ladan. That was the day I learned when the Cold War ended, and what the Cold War was. That was the day I wondered how much life of my life would change.

In some ways, life didn't change. We went back home to Nairobi and kept on homeschooling. But we stopped going to crowded places. Flying became the horrific experience it is today. We listened to how people hated George Bush on both spectrums. We discovered being American came with baggage and troublesome and started identifying ourselves as "from home," or from "Nairobi" (I still tell people I'm from Zimbabwe, because I did come from there...four years ago when I lived there).

I read a headline recently calling my generation, "the generation that knew only war." It's true there has been a lot of war since 2001. People say my generation doesn't understand how serious 9/11 was because we were to young. People say my generation doesn't know what peace is. I don't think I'll ever forget the feelings of loss, hopeless, confusion, fear, horror and shock that I remember so clearly. I grew up because of 9/11. I realized the importance of current events, politics, economics, and social awareness which came to define me. 9/11 marked my transition into adolescence which coincided nicely with the wars which coincided nicely with acne and overall awkward confusion of the teenage years. 9/11 was part of my life. It's still part of my life. I remember how the world came to be what it is now and this is the world that's been given to me and where I aspire to leave a small lasting positive impact. The 9/11 era I belong to isn't black and white. There aren't good guys and bad guys. Instead, things are less-defined, less predicable, less "American."

Optimistic people say that you can't control what happens to you but you can control your response. I might have said that too...in some of my previous posts. But sometimes you wish life hadn't screwed you quite so badly. I wish it hadn't happened. But it did. And you can only be sad and pray for healing for yourself and the world around you.

How to Visit Prey Veng (Second Edition)

My latest (and fourth) adventure in Prey Veng Province centered around partner visits. I had wanted to visit our rural ag partners but the opportunity took a while to present itself but when new people arrive on staff, all the good partner visits occur. I surmised our "rural ag partners" by definition were quite far outside Prey Veng town. But somehow 90 minutes is much different on a moto then in your head. I love the driving puzzle of people and vehicles. But that's driving in Phnom Penh. But then there's driving in Prey Veng Province.

Day One involved a visit to CSUK, a small rural university where MCC has seconded a short-term staffer as an economics and marketing prof. How does one get there? "Drive to Vietnam. If you get to the boarder, you've gone too far." Thankfully it's only two turns and it's right off the main road, even though we thought we got lost going out (you just keep driving). Highways for motos however are terrifying. You can actually go up to 60kph (one never gets about 40 in Phnom Penh), except the chickens, dogs, small children, bikes, and massive transport trucks will demand a piece of the road with you. It's also brutally hot in the sunlight on black tarmac at 11am in 88 degree weather with 100% humidity. However, we drove out there all 90 minutes of it, met with the director, visited host families, and ate fried rice. I drove back, and ran over a dog's back leg and tail. That was exciting. 

Day Two was the epic voyage out to our flagship agricultural partner ODOV in Mesang District (which just received the prestigious "good governance" certification from the overarching NGO forum). It was truly over and hour and a half getting out there on mostly dirt roads through villages and rice fields going 25 kph to avoid small children and animals. Yet hours later when we got there, we were allowed to dig in the demonstration garden and learn about a few Cambodia gardening techniques adapted for global climate change. 

Next on the list was yet another partner NILH, another small agricultural partner also working in health. We drove another 45 minutes to get there on dirt roads. We did two site visits with them in very rural communities to see the chickens, pigs, ducks and rice fields. After that, very tired, mildly sunburned, and definitely dirty, we headed back to Prey Veng central. It was yet another hour and  half journey, expect this time, there were massive passenger buses flying by towards Vietnam which have the magnificent power to completely rattle little moto drivers. There was also some brilliant high speed winds coming from a giant black thunderstorm dead ahead which serves to both terrify little moto drivers, and provide incentive to drive faster.

We couldn't work all the time. Over the weekend, there was a long bike ride in the flooded rice paddies and a boat ride on the seasonal lake, craft projects, movies on newly obtained flat-screens, and make-shift smores over a Cambodian charcoal fire. The province should bring out your adventurous side, and your creative side.

The moral from this visit to Prey Veng, you too can drive like a maniac. And secondly, respect must be given to long-distance rural moto drivers (including my colleagues who work out there) because they are truly the fearless ones. And how does one drive in rural Cambodia? Avoid all oncoming objects when possible (not always possible), and really, when you end up in these situations, you'll be surprised what natural instincts kick in. 

How My Partner is the Best

• I should explain why my partner is the best.
• I should explain what a partner is.
• I should explain how my partnership being the best and the existence of a partner intersects with my global nomadic identity.

My job title is “partner advisor.” It’s quite straightforward. I advise partners. Specifically, I work closely with a partner doing peacebuilding. I help with their monitoring, evaluation, research, donor relations, English report writing, strategic planning, and list making (I’m a really good list maker). I was brought over to help write curriculum for their “peaceful family program.” They changed their minds before I got here. It ended up being great. I’m not a social worker. I tick-boxes and I adore social science research.

So while I work with a North American organization, I really work for a Khmer organization specializing on conflict transformation and mediation training for Khmer church and social service leaders. We work with partners who share our vision for positive social change and assist them to meet their goals. By meeting their goals, they are making Cambodia peaceful, which my North American organization can say they helped with, which hopefully makes everyone in the entire world (including our constituency) very happy.

My partner is the best for many reasons:

• We do peacebuilding (how is that not the best?)
• We are well known and loved (I get street-cred being their advisor)
• We are receptive to organization learning (no one digs in their heels when faced with change, instead, they’re excited)
• We make sure each other’s needs are met (you’re allowed to have personal problems and leave work to fix them)
• We listen to each other (no one gets out-voted, it’s called consensus)
• We have monthly lunch meetings to share information (and someone translates for me)
• We have one week dedicated exclusively to “staff capacity building” every year (this year, I did a one-day session on connections between development and peacebuilding)
• We have awesome staff retreats (which we spend several months debating before consensus is met)
• We’ve never had anyone leave, in our six year existence (and we’re proud of it)
• We’re a giant family. We even marry each other (yes, the accountant and mobilization unit leader are getting married in November)

My partner is the best because they push my boundaries while not pushing me too hard, too fast, or too far. This is true for everyone. They give me challenges, but encourage me along the way. It’s completely realistic to assume your partner will drown you. I have colleagues who often feel overwhelmed with their partners. But I’ve been blessed. Peace Bridges is teaching me more than I'm helping them but as long as we find joy and peace in the process, we are achieving peace and relationship building. As global nomads, we take what we’re given, and we’re excited when it works out, and even more exciting when we find that in one corner of the world, our cynicism is actually misplaced.

This is why my partner is the best. And here’s to two more years of drinking coffee and building a peaceful Cambodia. 

How Rainy Season Changes Life

What would you do in you lived in a country where there are pounding thunderstorms and sheets of white rain almost every afternoon? What would you do if you didn't have a car to get places in said thunderstorm? What would you do if your street flooded, and the street next to that, and garbage was floating in it.

Such is life in rainy season, or so I am learning. Last Thursday, it decided to pour at 5pm. Rain storms take on a life of their own. You never know if they will last for 20 minutes or six hours (speaking from experience). I waited until 5:10pm, and then decided I had enough of waiting. I left all my stuff at the office, and drove the 30 minutes home. Naturally this story does not end well. I was completely soaked, but good news was that my phone which made the journey with me, is still completely functional (I can't kill it, which means I can't get a new one).

Rainy season 2011 has been mixed and unusual. It should rain every single day at the same time without fail between May and September. In May it starts raining in the early morning for several hours and by September it's raining in the late evenings for several hours.  I typically welcome the rain because the pressure will built up before rain and it's unbelievably muggy. If the rain doesn't come, it's a long hot evening.
A day can start completely sunny and within the span of one or two hours, a black thunderstorm will spit lightening and rain spitefully at you as it fills the streets with several feet of water (the drainage system in Phnom Penh is inadequate by far, partly due to "the reallocation of funds"...that's code).

However, this year, the rainy season was slow starting . We didn't get much rain until June, and even then it started in the afternoon instead of the morning. It hasn't rained everyday, and we'll go for several days with pressure and mugginess. This year there has also been massive flooding because of phenomenal deluges which last for half days instead of the customary several hours.

In rainy season, most clever people travel with a slicker, or poncho. However, I'm not always a clever person. My raincoat wards off. Many clever people put their belongings in plastic bags which they hide under their ponchos. But I loath plastic. Instead, we plan our days around the weather. It's acceptable to be late or not attend a meeting if it's pouring rain. The streets will empty with motos except for the brave souls in their ponchos.

Also worth mentioning, at least 70 people have died of lightening in Cambodia this year. Why children are not taught to stay indoors during storms is a mystery. Understandably, storms come on quickly and people are in rural rice patties, but still....but still...absolutely preventable deaths.

How to Visit Laos

I can proudly report that I’ve been to Laos PDR. Not many people can say that…but then again…not a lot of people are insane. I was endlessly excited about this trip because it sounded like exactly the sort of place that I would enjoy but never go without the added motivation; beautiful but inaccessible, remote yet uniquely so.

Overlooking Luang Prabang and the Mekong

The real reason I went to Laos was for my work’s annual regional retreat. However, my four day travels before the retreat was my motivation for going. I went early to visit Luang Prabang which is a 12 hour bus trip or a 45 minute flight north of the capital Vientiane. It’s a UNESCO world heritage site.

However, getting from Phnom Penh to Luang Prabang took 30 hours of travel across three countries on two planes, one sky train, several metros, one night train, two buses, and three taxis. This is how not to travel to Laos.

Train Station in Bangkok

From Phnom Penh I flew to Bangkok, about an hour away. I hadn’t been to Bangkok since Thanksgiving 1998, so I was delighted to wander. I went to the Weekend Market (good choice), went to the famous Siam Paragon Mall (good choice), went to Starbucks and bookstores (good choices), and ate Pad Thai and Thai green curry. Bangkok is big and developed and modern. Phnom Penh is not. So the contrast played tricks with my mind.

At 8pm, I boarded the night train to Nong Kai Thailand on the Thai-Laos border. It’s a 12 hour ride on a decent train and when you sleep on the lower bunk, you sleep pretty well. Sometime in the night it started to pour rain. When I woke at 6am, it was still pelting rain. I learned from another passenger that Nong Kai was flooded out which completely made sense so we were instructed to disembark the station before Nong Kai and they would bus us to Nong Kai.

Night Train to Laos!

So maybe 75 backpackers and myself got soaked to the skin scrambling to get on a pink-tasseled bus. The driver wasn’t clear. He left some people in Nong Kai town, he left some people at the Nong Kai station (flooded out, as expected), and some of us he left at the Friendship Bridge border crossing. I got off at the border crossing, and was quickly re-soaked in the process of leaving Thailand and entering Laos. I had specific directions for getting to Vientiane via the train, but in this wet-wasteland border crossing, I was tired, nauseous, displeased and lost. 

I learned after entering Laos that Vientiane is essentially a border town which was a relieving discovery. So I got a taxi and went to the airport, just in time for an 11:30am flight to Luang Prabang. In Luang Prabang, it was sunny, and there were hills, and there were work friends, and there was a shower. And it was awesome. 

Boat Ride on the Mekong to the Caves

Luang Prabang is a medieval kingdom’s capital, turned French vacation town, turned backpacker’s destination, which then went chic. The town and its vicinity boasts over 65 wats which are beautifully preserved by monks is bright orange robes. The town oozes French charm fused with Asian taste. There’s nothing like it anywhere in the world. Located on the “Mighty Muddy Makong,” there’s a tall “hill” in the middle with a stunning views of the countryside. 

Luang Prabang is meant to be relaxing. So we visited wats, and coffee shops, and road bikes in the pouring rain. We took a boat up the Mekong to visit caves with thousands of Buddhas, and stopped at cultural villages to buy scarves. We ate at street markets, browsed through tasteful art galleries, and shopped at what many consider Asia’s best night market. Best of all, we took long walks in the temperate climate. You can’t walk in Phnom Penh. People just think you’re strange. But in Luang Prabang, we were just more white backpacking tourists. I’ve never been happier to be a white backpacking tourist.

 Night Bus to Vientiane

After almost three days in the beautiful mountainous mecca, our work responsibilities summoned us away from my favorite Asian town. Some of our group flew back to Vientiane. I decided to take the night bus, along with another couple from work. I had heard it was a terrible way to travel but it gave me a while extra day in Luang Prabang. Sure enough, it was 12 hours long. For six of those hours, I was slightly aware of the switchbacks every 15 seconds, and that sections of the mountainous road were washed out. We stopped for watery soup at 2am, and after that I took enough motion-sickness pills to sleep through the parts of the ride where people through up continuously (according to a companion). 

Beautiful Wats in Luang Prabang

Vientiane seemed more like a village then a capital city. Apparently the government is very intentional about how they are allowing the city to develop. Until then, it’s like walking through…a super small town. We met with the rest of our group and road yet another bus yet another two hours to our retreat venue, on a dam, in the middle of nowhere. That’s the part of the trip where I got sick with the flu.

Going back after retreat wasn’t fun. The night train to Bangkok was considerably less pleasant, meaning going into a full day in Bangkok, I was tired and cranky. Some of my colleagues made the excellent decision to watch a movie. Theaters are a phenomenon which travelers from the outback of Cambodia drool over. So we went to a theater to Harry Potter, followed by Thai food, followed by a trip to the airport. We got into Phnom Penh at 7:10pm. By 7:37, I was home. It was only then that I was finally able to dry out my damp clothes.

I would go back to Laos. I would even live there. Because they make the best sticky rice.