Poverty stands in the way

8/01/10

On the road from Phnom Penh to Koh Kong

     The only thing I knew about where we were going today is I thought they said King Kong, and thought, “that would be cool.” Cambodia is a land where you see just about anything you can imagine. You will find an elephant in the middle of a downtown park. Scooters numbering surely in the hundreds of thousands ply the streets like mosquitos, buzzing about in every free road space imaginable, even up the wrong side, fearlessly. Cambodia on first glance appears to be chaos incarnate, but oddly enough, for all its insanity, there is a calm, compliant order to it all.

     We are headed for a resort that has “Picnic” in the name, so I am betting and hoping the food will be good. We had a lawyer who worked for the UN do a presentation on Human Trafficking I will reflect on later, and it was powerful, like all of our experiences thus far. The Red-light district, the Khmer Rouge, Tuol Sleng Museum (S21 – Google it), the Royal Palace and Museum all have been intensive and startling, tearing open a brutal, brilliant, colorful, painful world that until now was only talked about in history books, pictures, and vain attempts of portrayals in movies and television. Everyone should see this.

    Our lawyer was inspiring, ambitious, and fearless; his dream was to be the Cambodian judge on the ICC (Google this too, just because). After lunch we boarded the bus to head to the slum areas for another round of surreal people watching. We never quite know where we are going when our hosts from the Spirit in Education Movement (SEM) or the YRDP point us towards the bus. We kind of wink, pack up, then embrace the Buddhist philosophy of mindfulness and choose to, as our professor Al Fuertes says, “live in the moment.”

     The road led us out of town to Andong, a “suburb” of Phnom Penh. Habitat for Humanity and other NGO’s have a large footprint here, so the people were not surprised nor necessarily impressed another group of well-dressed tourist/foreigners wandering their streets. Imagine for a moment, being on your front porch, and a short tour bus pulling up at the end of the street, disgorging a group of 20. They then walk up and down your street, waving at you, saying hello, and then playing with and talking to your children, taking pictures, and then an hour and a half later, walking away, never to return.

      It seemed and felt somewhat shallow, similar to the aforementioned zoo. However, it was enlightening and inspiring for a number of reasons. The Cambodians who live out here are a bit different than in the city. Their homes are close together, close to their neighbors, in homes built of the simplest materials: corrugated steel, sticks, discarded lumber, and in some cases, a theoretically waterproof vinyl tarp of some sort. Many of them have plastic chairs and hammocks in which the elderly were reclined and napping out of the early afternoon sun.

     It was warm. The dust scattered about the feet of the scurrying children…playing coy with us. They had done this before. Many of them knew the peace sign. Other little girls hid in the shadows of the tiny houses, peeking around the corners of their thresholds, with the smiles and giggles not of forlorn kids, but naïve and content with the world around them. My first heartbreaker peered from behind a aqua painted window grate, clinging to what appeared to be either a stuffed dog or koala. It would have been easy to look at as a prison, with the illusion of bars, but you don’t get the sense from these kids they are trapped. They smile incessantly, and want to play and be chased by the big, bald, monster in the orange Old Navy striped shirt.

     The homes are sturdy, small, and dirty, with dusty floors and a mish mash of furniture inside and out. Wood boxes surround many of the living areas, and along the walk way in the narrow alleys, fetid water – an unassailable, strange color, perhaps gray green blue – ran it’s own course with no clearly planned destination. The ducks, chickens, and dogs lapped from the pools all about them, and surely their survival was a semblance of God’s grace.

      Cisterns (some wore the UNICEF seal) were lined along the street. Often between our interactions with the people, we were passed by vendors on bicycles. One had a cage on wheels, modified to serve as a bike trailer full of chicken chicks. These folks are resourceful. They build from scratch as we used to, with whatever they can cobble together. A scruffy man rode past us without even acknowledging us and passed us about 20 minutes later on a different “street,” his cage empty and latest transaction complete.

      One young girl was fascinated with the camera, but flirting with the man who owned it. When I finally coerced her to me, I photographed her, noticing a large cut around and above her eye and wondered, “I wonder if the mother had a first aid kit?” I don’t think they would have known what to do with one if they had it.

      This is probably the most important thing about this community. My guilt and pity for them quickly shifted to admiration and respect. They know no other life, so our world of shopping malls, comparatively safe traffic, easy jobs, and obscenely stocked grocery stores only serve to remind you that you may be the one who is trapped in a cage, with only a lot more to watch on TV. Politics, taxes, Obama, House, and Senate take on an entire new meaning in this context. People here have lived in a world most of these us wouldn’t survive more than a week or so if left alone.

     We met many families, and had a chance to speak with the local representative of Habitat for Humanity. Jimmy Carter came here back in the fall, as I understand, so I can only imagine how different our entourage must appear. Nonetheless, we are given the story of the homes that have and will be built here. Up to 200 will be available, and the organizations that support this community will pay most obligations up front for around $700. The families that move in will have about 7 years to pay for the home at the rate of about $35/month. The real challenge lies in meeting that obligation, since most here survive on less than $1 a day.

     One of the ironies in all of this is these projects are well funded. The construction manager I met was hesitant to talk about his boss, who he at one point referred to as his pastor. When I asked him to explain why his pastor was his boss, he quickly changed the subject and refused to comment any further calling it a joke. He is working here on a three month contract to build a two story structure. I inquired what the cost was to build one of these simple concrete structures, and he became incensed by the question.

     He said people often come here to “help” the people, but the money comes and goes to the middle men who facilitate the process of building. The NGO provides money, but it often goes to everybody in the various government agencies, companies, and other interested parties. The trickle down effect, once again in action, leaves almost nothing but a cheap 4 meter x 6 meter concrete bock with a few doors and windows for those at the bottom of the barrel. There is a “real” sense of “reality” here.

      Cambodia is one of the most corrupt countries in the world. This is the price of doing business in the country. For all the reports that have been written by the state department, for all the bribes passed through different ministries, at least these people get a sturdy shelter and a chance for a better quality of life. I guess that has to be a good thing.

     

We said our goodbyes and had to walk through a few more narrow streets of children, dogs, ducks, mothers, fathers, and grandparents in various stages of repose. The uncertainty at the start of our visit long gone, I found myself not wanting to work my way back on the bus to my “Picnic” destination. I will eat well tonight, as we have every day since we have been here, and while I have no regrets for my station in life, I feel a connection to the humanity we left behind to their own uncertain fate. What will these kids grow up to be? UN Lawyers? Teachers? Fisherman? We won’t know until they do. What I do know as I pass the transfer points on the highway to Koh Kong is there is a beast out there. It feeds a little on all of us, and constantly forces us to reconsider what our true purpose in life is. When I look in the mirror tonight, it won’t be the same face I saw in the morning. It will be lined with the shadows and sketches of young and old faces alike, reminders of who I am, who I can be, and the eyes of the beast that lives in me.

Cambodia's Red Lights

Trafficking - Red light district

7/01/11

     The girls/women are lined along the street. They, like the shops, are side by side and are crowded together like by the motorbikes and tables you must stumble through to reach the shops themselves.

     There are many types of trafficking happening in Cambodia, which is known as a transit country. There is child trafficking, typically for begging on roadsides and tourist areas, or house keeping. The children are moved into homes to do housework, and essentially become slaves, and in the case of young boys and girls, they often find themselves eventually in the sex trade as well. People are moved in and out of the country for many reasons.

     Labor trafficking is also very common. There are men, women, and children who can’t find work in Cambodia that take the risk of crossing the border with “brokers” who sneak them by the midnight moon into Thailand. They come expecting promised jobs, but instead they are handed off to Thai brokers who lead them to sweatshops, construction work, and fishing boats. The fishing jobs are particularly brutal, at sea for 3 months at a time. During that time the men are rarely allowed to sleep, fishing often from twilight, through the night, and into the morning…the best fishing hours in Michigan as well.

      The big difference is, when the sun comes up, they go to work on the nets, mending them all day until fishing begins again. They are not allowed to sleep, and the captain often will shoot them or force them overboard if they disobey. When the boat returns to port to unload its cargo, the men are not allowed to leave. They are often not paid, and any complaints are often met with arrest, where the Thai police will interview them, take their pictures, and their money and personal belongings. Like most traumas, they are often repeated, but in these cases, it is the authorities themselves that are supposed to protect the workers who victimize them again. Trauma becomes a way of life for people here…it is par for the course throughout regions history.

     The women in the sex trafficking often come from Thailand or China, to work in Cambodia. They are promised jobs in housekeeping or in the garment industry, but end up being cheated, finding themselves in front of a massage parlor or bar/restaurant, enticing men on the street to come in for “coffee.” The red-light area stretches for blocks and blocks and blocks and there are hundreds of young, made up girls in various stages of “light dress.” The neater, more expensive shops have the prettier women, and you are invited into the bars to buy them a drink. Sometimes you will deal directly with the pimp sitting at the table out front, who will take the money before you even have contact with her.

     The bus spilled us onto the street, and we walked for blocks, being serenaded with cat-calls, whistles, and smiles. Sex tourism is big business here, and we found ourselves often running into sweaty, rather large men who were clearly American or Europeans. Other men often looked almost like mercenaries. One bald headed man, about 6’3”, had a motorcycle, and was revving the engine on the corner with two young women staring and smiling at him, as if he were the prize. It seemed oddly sophomoric, with the handsome, dangerous looking “motorcycle” guy, trying to impress the “girls”. He was actually a predator, but the comfort level they all exhibited made it clear it was all part of the rhythm of life here.

     It was so strange to be in the center of all of this. Imagine a zoo, where you meander through the various exhibits, looking at the animals, and feeling an unusual sense they aren’t really here for your enjoyment, but are actually trapped in a cage, unable to free themselves from the world that has been built around them. Resigned to their fate, these women continue the dance of life the only way they know. Life in Asia we have seen has a pattern and culture in which people are essentially commodities, to be traded, transported, and exploited (expended) in one way, shape, or form. But for them, it is all in a days work, and everyone we see, despite their condition or state of mind, tend to offer a smile. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose.

Chea Vanath

Chea Vanath

6/01/11

     Chea Vanath, a UN Representative who is intimately involved with ASEAN, joined our group and spoke of three things. The competencies we should always try to achieve:

-       A sense of mindfulness (consciousness) – awareness of the world in this moment

-       A sense of self-awareness – a sense of our own state in this world

-       Reflective practice – having the ability to reflect on our own state, knowledge and true influence on that world

She gave a comprehensive explanation of ASEAN, it’s role in Cambodia as related to the international community. The goals somewhat defy Western diplomatic ideals and customs, which is why sensitivities to culture is so important.

-       ASEAN wanted to eliminate foreign interference in the domestic affairs of its members (ex. Burma). As a political entity, they don’t function like the UN, so they cannot apply military pressure when a member doesn’t do what the world sometimes expects them to.

-       It is facilitated through close contacts of top political leaders.

-       Because of this, it cannot be as efficient at dealing with countries like Burma.

There are three tracks that help this process. The first is between the diplomatic channels of the respective governments. The second is through civil society groups that are more informal. They can disperse information and decrees and serve as a testing ground for governments without having to take official positions. Finally, the third track is done through NGO’s, social agencies, and others that function on the macro level.

     It is clear there is a fundamental approach in the relationships in the East as contrasted to the West. When asked about China, she explained the difference between the U.S., China, and Cambodia and the long term views of those relationships. China as a long history with Cambodia, and they are currently involved in numerous infrastructure projects. She likened Cambodia to a wife, who China will love consistently, but may occasionally have a concubine. While the US (The Concubine) came into Cambodia with the military during the US War in Vietnam, we also bombed the civilians in the country, and then afterwards, recognizing we no longer had a need to be there, we left Cambodia to itself.    

     When we try to rationalize and understand China and their role in the world, this is what we don’t recognize or acknowledge. We are horrible (boyfriends). Recently we gave the Cambodian military 50 military trucks, then withdrew further aid when Cambodia did not comply with our wishes in return for them. China then came in and offered 100, and seems to always step in after we leave a vacuum. China has an extensive centuries long interest in the region and has been instrumental in Cambodia’s pedigree. This is significant because we will leave two more such concubines in Iraq and Afghanistan, which is probably why a majority of countries across the Middle East and Asia distrust us. We appear to be there when we serves our current interests, and then leave at the first sign of trouble. Like an affair gone bad, it always starts out the same way, but we never know how it is going to end. We have a lot of broken hearts in our wake since the end of World War II, and I don’t see us settling down anytime soon. This is something to think about. Maybe we should begin to consider a wife instead of another girlfriend.

Intro

A little background - We, our class, have arrived in Phnom Penh and after a day of sightseeing have embarked on an intensive series of meetings with high level officials of NGO's, the Cambodian Government, and the UN. We have learned first hand of the war crime trials going on to remedy the Khmer Rouge Killing Fields of the 70's, Human and SexTrafficking, and confronting vivid poverty in it's rawest form.  

I just returned from the Koh Kong region, where we met with a group offering vocational training to young men and women, educational support, and environmental consultations for the local people who have been displaced by a Chinese hydroelectric dam project. The Chinese have paid for the dam, claimed the land, and are now proceeding with strictly Chinese laborers, materials, and have ravaged the forest for their "generosity."

In two days, we will turn the page into meditation, mindfulness, and the Buddhist philosophy of balance, and will spend three days in the monk communities of Battambong, learning, praying, and examining the concept of sustainability. Keep in mind as you read these, we are having some fun. These are serious topics, but our past trip was to "Picnics," a campsite in the mountains of Northwest Cambodia, where we were waited on hand and foot with fine food, fresh air, and good company. These venues are welcome relief considering the subject matter and we really have been treated like kings. I only wish I could bring everyone I know along for the ride. 

Enjoy the reads...I got a few done and they are by no means, complete essays...just compiled thoughts as I go. 

Peace and Love,

Chris