Something from nothing...

12/01/11

A roomful of Americans and monks – Battambong

We are all learning, even the young men in their orange vestments.

They are solemn, serious, but still young, and they giggle as often as any of the usual high school students in the U.S. Buddhist Monks and their Nun counterparts receive the ultimate respect in Cambodian society. Even when they minister in prison, they are greeted with a gift of food in honor of their presence, and the rooms are silent as they speak because they are the teachers. They teach of peace, health and sex education, AIDS/HIV awareness, and the teaching of the Buddha and the earth. The Buddhist University we visited is preparing these young people for a new world of teaching and development. Two thirds of the Cambodian population is under the age of 30, so the next generation will truly be the new deciders.

This young man wants to study abroad…but their education system is still behind most international standards, so according to Bob, even if they graduate with a diploma, they aren’t quite prepared for the normal, “western” university experience. Anybody want to come over and teach English for a year?

Asleep on the edge...

12/01/11

Lunch break

The meals here are too much. They (the guides Paeng, Sophat, and Hoeung) often order for us. Today’s lunch consisted of sliders and fries, fried rice, fish, spaghetti with vegetables (corn, green beans, onions), chicken in spicy sweet pineapple sauce, and fresh fruit for dessert. To put it another way, we all thought the sliders and fries would be plenty.

As we stuffed ourselves, across the way a number of construction workers took advantage of their lunch break to rest in the building in progress across the street.

OSHA – No such thing. Safety ropes. Nope. Hard Hats. Nada. Welcome to Cambodia…sleep tight.

Kettle, black. Black, kettle.

12/01/11

Someone told us of the smoking pot…

…and I did not, but the pot was smoking…

Oh the water, oh the water

12/01/11

The Water – Battambong

Critical to life, water sustains us all. In Cambodia, it is a major artery for transit of materials.

It’s a great way to pass the time as well. The country is still learning how to protect its most precious resource from itself through self-imposed environmental degradation and the lack of infrastructure to protect it from human waste. All drinkable water must be purchased in plastic bottles…if you have the money. Think about that.

Peace and love man

12/01/11

Dhammayietra Center for Peace and Nonviolence – Battambong

Bob Maat is a peace activist who has lived in Cambodia for 31 years. He came here in 1979 to do refugee outreach and never left. It is strange to see the thin 57-year old “Polish” white boy from Cleveland, in this environment, but he seems to fit right in. He studies the Buddha here with the monks, speaks Cambodian and English, and walks everywhere, unless he is offered a ride on the road. He never asks for one. One conversation with him and you will feel at peace.

The temples at the Dhammayietra Center for Peace and Nonviolence speak for themselves.

Their purpose as the Buddha said: “I teach only two things – suffering and the end of suffering.” Dhammayietra and the monks serve in the annual Peace walk, help people living with HIV/AIDS and caring for those dying at home, helping young peacemakers through study and volunteerism, and ministering to prisoners who seek a new path. They deliberately seek out areas where there is conflict and suffering.

The walk they make is a metaphor for life as a journey. We cannot stop conflict or fix or cure suffering, but the idea is we “walk” with those who do suffer, letting them know they are not alone and seeking ways to ease the pain. The Venerable Maha Ghosananda founded Dhammayietra on the basis of these ideas.

Bob’s “office” is a small, open temple with two rooms, one on each side. We entered the porch area, and surrounding us were peace posters, photos, quotes, and heroes from all over the world. 

This was a powerful walk into the heart of what troubles Cambodia from the inside out. Torn by years of war and conflict, it is a country broken and trying to heal. No one has been immune to the effects of war in this community. We heard stirring first hand stories of the effects of the Khmer Rouge and their breaking apart of families from a monk, the Venerable Vy Sovichea, who lost four members of his family and he has given his life to the pursuit of peace as a Buddhist monk. He runs the Center, and is responsible for it’s progress.

We then heard the tearful story of Sek Sarom, who has first hand seen the devastation of the war as a child in a refugee camp on the Thai border with Cambodia. Cambodia was stretched between two enemies during the reign of the Khmer Rouge; Vietnam from the East, which used the Khmer Rouge as a proxy army during their gradual decline, and Thailand to the west, who was competing for resources and labor with Vietnam. Thailand utilizes cheap labor and other commodities from Cambodia, but wanted nothing to do with refugees, so they set up camps along the mountainous, northweset border and forced the Cambodians to live there rather than seek refuge in their country. Sek Sarom met Bob as a child, and saw the disappearance of many family members at the behest of the Thai army. She was unable to finish her story because of her tears, and the room was filled with the emotion of many of us who had finally heard too much pain and suffering.

Bob Maat could be mistaken for a “peace-nick” or a hippie because of his language, but his disheveled appearance belies a wise, experienced, Western intellectual who has taken on the calling of the Buddha. He practices Buddhism, eating two meals a day: one at breakfast and one before noon. The three days we were with him he had his peace walk T-shirt and tie-line pants on. An ancient pair of flip-flops adorn his feet, and they are worn from his many miles of walking, which he does so willingly. He is very well-known about the town of Battambong as the “crazy American” and he embraces that role in a jovial and peaceful demeanor. One garners a sense of peace and purpose when speaking with him.

I told Bob about Chea Vanaths talk about “balance” I discussed earlier, and his suggestion for me was to embrace silence. I have a ruckus in the head, as some of you know, and I have been seeking to reconcile my concern for the future with the realities we are facing. The idea of finding a middle space between war and peace, joy and pain, suffering and healing, appeals to me. I see my response should be one of action to counter those I do not believe in with those I do: to lift up, to support, to conserve, and most of all, to listen. Bob explained that to listen, one needs to pursue silence. He also suggested I pursue it immediately and often, and the balance I seek would find me.

So I leave you with this silence, and ask you to reflect on your “enemies,” friends, and loved ones. Peace be with you, today and always.

From the mouths of geese...

11/01/11

Special day – special school on the road to Battambong

Finding a respectable toilet is virtually impossible once you hit the road. There are rest stops along the two lane roads that qualify as highways, but they are not quite the experience Americans are used to. On the road to Battambong we by-passed quite a few of them, particularly when they were populated with other tour buses. Ours is small, but the lines for the large ones with passengers from all over the Mekong Delta have little regard for manners or the concept of the que.

Fortunately, we saw a small school on the side of the road, and the call came to “stop there, stop there.” The 20 of us descended on the three outhouses aligned in most other times for the students of the school. After asking their permission, we began to take our turns. As we did, a crowd of school children gathered about us.

One of the many things I have come to appreciate is the thoughtfulness of the students who are on this trip. Because everything is so inexpensive here, our group has what seems to be limitless spending power, so no one hesitates to give what they have to others. Ping began to hand out some of the candy she had, and I returned to the bus to gather a bag of Twizzlers I had purchased to break half to give to the students.

We should take a lesson from them. I took a rope of licorice and broke it in half to double my supply as there were probably 70-80 kids surrounding us.  Many of them were not asking directly for the candy and would not take it unless we put it in their hands. Then, they would retreat huddling with another friend or two, and in almost every case, took what they had been given and broke it in half to share with another. Everybody shares here.

With the snacks complete, a call came out from Beth to teach them a game. We had them all sit in a circle and she began to demonstrate the world-famous, culturally universal “Duck – duck – GOOSE!” She moved around the circle, tapping each child on the head, and then with the declaration of the goose (displayed by one of our own), they began to race around the circle with the latter taking the place of the former.

Two demonstrations were enough for the kids to get it. They took at it with gusto, the children whizzing about the circle, kicking up dust with their feet as they hugged the turns. The fun somewhat ended when one of the bigger boys succeeded in catching the smaller child who had tapped him on the head, and pulled him to the ground with a thud and a puff of dust.

It was suggested after that we move on, and we were offered a tour of their classroom. They were spartan, but had basic wood benches and tables that served, textbooks in Cambodian, and the colors were displayed in women’s style dress. 

There were bars on all the windows, which we see a lot of here, to protect the innards of the facility when they were unsupervised, but you can’t help but notice how the lack of security butts up against the idea that even in education, these children are locked up. The system is stacked against them, and even though these kids were luckier than most to even have the opportunity, you know the prospects of their success are as limited as the economic prowess of one of the poorest countries in the world.

The good news is, like all of us, kids don’t have the long-view and opinions we are often plagued with in day to day interactions, and we were blessed with a moment where we were the kids, simplifying our existence by playing the universal games that children still can play.

Johnny and all of his friends came marching to my home...

08 Jan 11

The Picnic – Soldier Ants

Ants are the most social creatures on earth in terms of organization. They all have a role to play, and they don’t ask questions or have to be reprimanded. Our cabin was up near the top of a hill, and had a lovely deck you could sit on or walk around to see the valley and “campground” below.

The deck had support posts that were topped by lamps spaced out about 2 meters apart. There were four posts between the door to our cabin around the side to the back side of the deck. I noticed a gathering of insects on the closest to our door, and went to investigate. It was dusk, and the ants had gathered at the base of the lamp. In a jumble on the rail below the lamp, many of the ants had a beetle that they were holding onto. Every single space available surrounding him was filled with an ant grabbing a hold of him.

      There was a trail of ants the followed the rail all the way to the end, and the lamp burning there had another culmination of ants. This trail had workers trailing what appeared to be sections of other insects who had been dismantled and were clearly being transported in a macabre display of efficiency. When I reached the end of the deck, the hunters had perched just above the beginning of the lamp, antennae outstretched, seeking motion or touch.

     

     These ants had figured out the lamps drew other insects, and had camped out around them, hunting the wayward moth or other flying fellow. As the happy chap came close to the lamp in the dance only insects can perform around the lights, one was snatched right out of the air. It had come to close, and the hunter immediately seized him. Others came to his aid, and as the little bug struggled, it was over before it began. They began to take him apart while he was still moving.

     Nature is cruel that way. One minute you are out for a dusky flight, the next you are dinner. The flyers didn’t know better, yet the ants somehow knew something. They knew the lights were a source for food, and had set up camp, waiting to spring their ambush on the unsuspecting pilots. The ones who came to close would not escape this night.

     I saw later that night on the National Geographic Channel that ants are the most numerous social creatures on earth. Due to their numbers, they contain more biomass than humans do on earth. You might be a bit careful the next time you go near a light post after dark.