Disclaimer

This website reflects my own personal views and not that of the U.S. Government nor, more specifically, the Peace Corps.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

The Emergency Box

The Emergency Box.

I walk into the health center the other day and see what appears to be a donation box. It had "Emergency Box" written on it in Khmer. Hmmm. This must be for emergencies, clearly. If you have an emergency, well by jove, you've got the box, right? No problem.

So, I ask: "What's that for?" My health center director replies, "Oh, it's an emergency box." I think (and out loud [in English]), "Yes. I can see that." I decide I should further investigate. "What's the emergency?" He replies, "Poor people." So... poor people are the emergency? "OH CRUD! POOR PEOPLE!!!! GET THE BOX!!"

"You mean people put money in the box so poor people can come to the health center?" He says, "Nungai" (translation: correct) So I make a suggestion: "How about you add '...for money for poor people'" (for lack of my fluidity of the language)

So now, in front of my health center, there lies a box which sayeth:

"Emergency Box for Money for Poor People"

Got it.

Talk to you soon,
Garrett

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Provincial Spelling Bee

Over the past month, the five English Teaching/Teacher Training (ETTT) volunteers in my province (Banteay Meanchey) held mini spelling bee competitions at their individual high schools for 10th and 11th grade English students. Each volunteer was to select the top two students in each grade's competition to bring to Hun Sen Klah Koen High School for the 2nd Annual Provincial Spelling Bee. The students were 10 competitors for Grade 11 and 9 for Grade 10 (as one student had a wedding to attend). The students were provided with water and snacks during the competition and an all-paid lunch at a local restaurant in the provincial town, Serei Sisophon (or Svay/Sway for short). The lunch included some sort of violent looking fish in a sweet and sour sauce (I'm going to say piranha, just for cool points), beef and ginger, and chicken and green...stuff (veggies). For dessert, we were served a bowl of cold beans in a water/condensed milk soup with a couple of chunks of ice...yum.
Over all, I'd say the students were fairly excited to be there and very nervous to compete. The winners won, and that was said was done. Some of the students didn't take losing very well and decided not to go to lunch in between the 10th and 11th grade competitions as well as some leaving after having lost in the 11th grade competition before waiting around to see who would win. To be honest, I feel this to be a simple lack of competition between students in their youth in this country. Some teachers (country nationals) are creative and find ways to involve the students in class, however, most tend to stick with the English for Cambodians (EFC) book that is distributed by the Ministry of Education Youth and Sports (MoEYS). Many teachers, as I hear from the ETTT volunteers, tend to favor some students and not give due credit to others when they do succeed in class. As a result, it seems that many students aren't actually used to the experience of losing in an official competition and perhaps do not know how to take it. I'm not saying they're sore losers but simply that many of them are getting more experience in losing (and winning) which I think can be very healthy. I think some of the students didn't realize that the lunch was actually being paid for/was there for them because it was celebrating they're diligence in studying English. In one conversation I overhead between one of the volunteers and their student, it seemed one student didn't feel deserving of receiving lunch and just decided to stay home.
I've been really proud of the ETTT volunteers in my province who are doing an excellent job at positive reinforcement. I think they're giving these students opportunities and experiences that haven't had before. Many of them (the students) are taking it different than one another, but they are all learning something. Whether it be learning that they need to study more often, how to handle winning (being a good sport when winning), how to handle losing, or simply learning from and about the other students around the province that they probably had never met before, they all learned something. There was some talk afterwards of extending this provincial spelling bee into regional competitions and hopefully, a national competition. We shall see as the months go on!
Anyhow, I know that I certainly learned something (aside from the fact that I can time students without actually looking directly at my phone [stop-watch]). Some people don't really mind as much about winning or losing as they do simply being recognized by the rest of their community/peers/teachers. I hope we can come up with some other competitions for students that recognizes their wants and abilities. Maybe we can show some of the female students that seeking out a future other than a domestic one is possible. That is a much more complicated situation than it sounds. It is not easy and will probably take years to change. Some would rather that life, though, and that's perfectly okay, too. Alright, I'm off on a tangent. Perhaps this will inspire another post somewhere down the road.

Hope all is well.

Talk to you soon,
Garrett

How Long Must I Wait in this Taxi? or Eh, This is a Great Opportunity to Check Up on the News or I Sometimes Fear for My Life.

So, I realize that there are three phases to waiting in a taxi to head back to my village on any given Sunday:

1) When I ask for a taxi and see the 'cab' is not already filled to the 'intended capacity', whatever that means, I assume I'll be waiting for awhile before they successfully coerce the 'two more' people they promised before actually leaving for my village. I sit and I wait as I check the internet, as it's Sunday, while we circle the same 50 meter radius hoping for success. It is usually unsuccessful and lingers on for up to two hours (I could've run home already, but let's face it: that'll never happen). This leads to realization no. 2;

2) 'Hey! At least I've got the internet to check up on the news.' And I've figured out by this point that trying to load cnn.com and bbc.com on IE or Firefox will just take up too much CPU energy and slow everything else up. So, why not enjoy the fact that I'll diligently check what's going on it the world, right? And at the same time, I can check on some college hoops and Facebook. That's when I realize no. 3;

3) 'HOLY $&!!! I think I may just die today.' Cambodian taxi drivers are by far the most reckless, intense, bold and worst drivers the world has probably ever seen. As we circle the statue for a seventh time, we defy all logic and reason to making a u-turn. There is a lot of traffic. Should we turn? Why, yes. Of course. Oh look! There goes another moto. I bet one of them wants to go to Poipet, the Cambodian-Thai border town. Let's chase them down in this car and yell from the window on the wrong side of the road. And then, let's hop out of the car and run after them. Oh, hmmm, that didn't work. I guess I better drive in reverse on the right side me the road for half a kilometer to back up. Is this normal? Absolutely. Does it phase me anymore? Nah. Do I still have some concern over my life? You bet.

Well that's it for now. Go Cats! And hope for the best. I've been in this taxi for 1hr 22min so far. My house is a 22min drive away. I should have biked.

Talk to you soon,
Garrett

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Faces of Kob Health Center




Interesting Thing #2: "Where do you go?"

"Dhou na?"

This is probably one of the most common phrases that I have noticed throughout the Khmer language. What does it translate to literally? "Where are you going" or rather "Go where?" However, many times "dhou na" means something entirely different. Here are some common situations in which this phrase is used but does not mean its literal translation:

1) At my health center, when a patient walks in, the staff will ask them, "dhou na?" Where are they going? To the health center, of course. And, they're already there? What a ridiculous question! It means, "Hello, what can I help you with?"

2) While working out, i.e. running/jogging/power walking (this is usually the descending progression of my work out; the latter usually wins out), I will be asked, "dhou na?" Now, literally they really do mean to ask where I am going as I am running somewhere, however I don't have a specific destination. I'm just exercising. What they really mean to say is, "Hey, I'm acknowledging you existance. What are you up to?" Side note: this is answer can be given by continuing what I'm already doing. I usually respond to "dhou na?" in this situation "soksaabye! soksaabye, dye?" translation: "I'm happy/great! Are you?" You can see how this all fits together.

3) When leaving my room to continue doing laundry, I will be asked, "dhou na?" Clearly, I'm walking towards the plastic water basins filled with clothes. What does this actually translate to: "What's up?" Normally, you would say, "twe(r) ei?" which means: "what are you doing?" but not in this specific situation.

These might be completely isolated situations out in my village in the northwest corner of Cambodia, but I feel some of my friends here would agree with me that "dhou na" rarely ever means its actual meaning.

Hope you enjoyed Interesting Thing #2

Talk to you soon,
Garrett

E-Censorship in Cambodia or "Irony"

So, as this blog needs to remain as apolitical as possible, I'll simply explain the situation, and through the use of words such as "allegedly" and "denies", you can "assume" the way I feel about the situation.

As of January 19th, the Ministry of Interior blocked the domain "blogspot" due to comments and accusations made by the liberal media group KI Media. KI Media accused Cambodian officials as being "traitors", and some comments, though thought by some to have been crossing the line of "freedom of expression", have caused one man to be arrested and jailed. The Ministry of Interior denies this alleged accusation, however there have been multiple confirmations from several ISPs (Internet Service Providers) such as Cellcard and Metfone (which I use) agreeing that they were forced to block such a domain. The M.o.I. seems to be affected by such accusations made by KI Media on their blogspot account and they are restricting use to most internet users to using and/or viewing their or others' blogspot accounts.

This affects me because:

1) This is a blogspot blog
2) Many of my friends use blogspot

Should this affect the entire umbrella of the blogspot domain or could this have been an isolated incident with KI Media?

Should the government have done what they did or should they have simply denied the accusations made upon them and done nothing else thereby alleviating any suspicion of truth?

The answer is: I don't know (I didn't read the blog post) and I don't care. I just want to be able to read my brother and sister-in-law's and my many fellow Peace Corps Volunteers' blogs.

I can post this (obviously) and promise that I will continue to post here until it is no longer possible. Worse comes to worse, I will change to a wordpress account. However, I don't wish to do any such thing. To be honest, I have been able to check blogger on my Metfone phone, but not using internet explorer or firefox on my laptop. There are some inconsistencies, but it matters not.

Hope all is well.

Talk to you soon,
Garrett

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Interesting/Ridiculous Thing #1: How Many People Can You Fit on a Moto? or How Many Things Can You Carry With You on a Moto?

So, I've noticed lately that I haven't posted as often as I used to. Well, I've figured out the reasoning behind that, or rather the reasoning I suspect is behind it.

When I first came to Cambodia, I was astounded at everything that I was seeing. It was all novel to me, then. I had only really been out of the country before to go to places like Rome, Nice, Barcelona, Dubrovnik, but only for a day or two (and most of them were a stop on a cruise line). I had seen some of the world, but I hadn't really the opportunity to experience it first hand. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate those opportunities that I did have. They were expensive and well worth it, but you notice things that you wouldn't normally have noticed when you live in a place longer. However, the longer you live in that place, the less novel things become, and they aren't at the forefront of your mind. So, I figured I would dig deep into the back of my memory the past 6 months and describe some images that are no longer new to me, but will probably be interesting and, more often than not, comical to you!

How many people can you fit on a moto?

The Answer: As far as I have seen with my human eye: 5.

In Cambodia, we disregard children when counting numbers in ridulous situations. For example, if I say I was on a truck with 23 people in the bed, that might actually mean 30 people. So, this number means I have seen five grown human beings on the back of a motorcycle. Were there children somewhere on the back, in the front, or somewhere inbetween? Inconsequential and of no importance to this vital statistic.

How many things can you bring with you on a moto?

The Answer: There is no limit.

I have often seen a man on a moto with 6 foot long cage, horizontally placed on the bak with six to ten (somehow) pigs tetrised (yes, that is a word) inside. Now, if that's not enough already to make you think, "holy crap!" let's add on about 20 feet of bamboo polls and 10 pounds of dark leafy greens, and that will give you a good account of the streets of Cambodia. Other things that are not uncommon: 4 people on the back of a moto carrying 50 chickens (the disturbing part is that they are VERY much alive) and one of those people is still hooked up to an IV drip. For some reason, IV drips are the solution to all problems medical in this country. You have a cold? Ah, you need an IV. You have head trauma? Ah, you need an IV (is it the right kind? who knows! hopefully.). One more thing: only minutes after giving birth, it is not uncommon for that new mother to hop on to the back of a moto with her new born baby of 5 minutes and ride 10 km back to her village and then proceed to lay on a bamboo bed over hot coals (that's a whole different story though...I'll get to it).

Hope you enjoyed Interesting Things About Cambodia #1

Talk to you soon,
Garrett

Moto Dops in Village

What are moto dops?

Why are moto dops?

How are moto dops?

These are the existential questions we must raise to our conscious in order to accurately pin point the purpose of our being here, or rather, the purpose of their being here.

My guess: they were put here to banter you most when you least want it, and more importantly, when you least need it.

So, again, the important question: what is a moto dop?

Answer: A moto dop is simply a person on a moto (motorcycle) whose job it is to taxi people around for a nominal fee.

Where are moto dops located in places to offer you a service of giving you a ride for an unnecessary distance. Could they be useful at times: sure. Absolutely. Are they annoying: absolutely.

i.e. "HEY!! HEY!!! BARANG!!! HEY!!! HELLO!!! YESS!!! MOTO!!! MOTO!!! GO WHERE?!!?! MOTO!!! NEED MOTO!!!! (claps obnoxiously to get your attention) HEEEEYYY HEY!!! MOTO!!!! WHERE DO YOU GO!!!! HEYYYY HEY!!!"

at times, if you encounter such a moto dop driver at the right time of evening:

"Hey! Hey! Barang! Where do you go?! (insert grunt here) Youuuu need cocaaiinne? Marawaahna? No. No. You need heroine? I have. You need?"

The latter of the two is more prevalent in Phnom Penh or Siem Reap.


Why did I find this necessary to post?

Well, today I got dropped back off at my site after taking a quick trip into the provincial town, and immediately after stepping out of the taxi, I hear: "Hey!!! Hey!! Moto?!! (makes revving gesture)

My response: (in Khmer) "Excuse me, but how can you not realize that I understand your language? You see me walk into this market almost every other day, and I speak with the people who sell noodle soup and rice with pork every morning. You also know that I live about a five minute walk from here next to the bank."

One of the moto dop driver's response: (in Khmer) "Baht. Baht baht baht baht. (translation: Yes. yes yes yes yes.) But, do you need a moto?"

Well, you can't win 'em all.

Talk to you soon,
Garrett

Giving Life More of a Purpose (R.I.P. Sarge)

So, in light of recent frustrations with the "lack of resources", shall we say for the newly initiated health program for Peace Corps in Cambodia, many of the volunteers have collectively decided to put together a manual for future volunteers at the consent of Peace Corps/Cambodia and its staff. There are a few of us in charge of some main key aspects, but it is really all of us pooling together our knowledge of disease and complication in Cambodia along with the traditional beliefs of each of their causes. This is such a fantastic thing, I feel, for the future of this program. With shared insights and experiences, I know we can give the next group of health volunteers what we were not suitably prepared with. I have my opinions, and I will keep them to myself for the time being. I do, however, feel very supported by Peace Corps in their giving us partial-full control of this manual. Most of the success I have found here has come through trial and error and from the experiences of other volunteers which I have learned from. I feel, because of this, that I am intent on seeing the future success of this program follow through while I am still here and available to give whatever I have available to give. Let's be honest though: my undergraduate studies were closer to underwater basket-weaving than it was anything health-related. Even so, I am passionate about it as much as I am about art. With that, my position in this community-health-education manual revolves around formatting and finalizing. I receive submitted information about a given condition or disease and I will go into Word and format each submission to conform to the other. I will hopefully be putting together the cover, bibliography, appendix, and perhaps other information. I cannot express adequately how much more purpose this gives my being here. I love the work that I am doing in my community and the projects that I have planned out thus far, completed or not. But this gives me more to do on a different scale and in a different capacity. As well, it gives me something to do when I'm so utterly with nothing to do in the many hours I possess of my own time. It is soothing and cathartic. I look forward to the next submission.

Hope all is well.

Talk to you soon,
Garrett

p.s. my love, gratitude, and condolences go out to the Shriver family for their loss. For those of you who do not know, Robert Sargeant Shriver, Jr., a public statesman and part of the Kennedy family (married to Eunice Kennedy Shriver), was the driving force behind and the first director of the Peace Corps. He died due to complications of Alzheimer's at the fine age of 95 on January 18th, 2011. R.I.P.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Silver Over Black, White, Yellow, and Red (An Inspiration from Jacks)

What is a canvas?

It is a statement
Waiting to be told.
It is a story
Waiting to be written.
It is an emotion
Waiting to be expressed.

Silver over black, white, yellow, and red
The impasto, layered
It is on the pavement
It is buried
It is waiting to be said

One plus one plus one plus one plus one is five
Blurred by the lines
The platypus
Is not always the platypus
Sometimes it is a beehive

Paint may drip
But it drips the way it is supposed to drip
Pigment dries
But it dries the way it is supposed to dry
Numbers may not add up
But they add up the way you want them to

This is a canvas.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Imprisoned

Written: January 5th, 2011

I visited the infamous S-21 prison, “Toul Sleang,” the main torture/”reeducation” prison during the Khmer Rouge in the late 1970’s. It was ironically preceded by the theft of a purse from my friend on the way there. Malice, discontent, and corruption still roam the streets of Phnom Penh, but it is nothing compared to that of the era of the Khmer Rouge. Millions were put to forced labor and killed, and thousands upon thousands were imprisoned and tortured all in the name of an ideal. Toul Sleang used to be an academic school. The Khmer Rouge sought out high ranking officials, doctors, and professors/intellectuals. Ironic isn’t it? Needless to say, this place continues to harbor all of the horrors that existed more than 30 years ago and is now home of the National Genocide Museum.
This Cambodian museum is unlike any American or European museum. There are no ropes or tour guides. Nothing has been furnished or repainted. Nothing has changed. This, I find, is what makes its exploration all the more frightening. You walk along and into what used to be classrooms for grade nine through twelve students, most likely. You find them converted and transformed into empty cells, confining, claustrophobic with hints of blood stained floors. Tick marks hide under the years of dust. Were they put there by tourists or were they the left by those prisoners counting they days, months that would have gone by? As I stand in the heart of one of the imprisonment cells, I find myself forced to see it as it may have been some 30 years ago; a poor young man (or woman) of 27 (perhaps 72) shackled to a lone iron bed with nothing but crumbs of stale bread and a look of anguish and despair on his face. “Is this my last day? Are they coming for me next? Where is my family? Just let it end, now. I’ve done nothing but try and keep food on the table for my family,” he (she) seems to say. He/she’s lost hope, and the only thing he/she has to look to, if they are even able to see anymore, is the ceiling. Room after room, cell after cell, picture after picture after picture of imprisoned, tortured, and murdered victims is what I see. There are literally thousands of 4x5 images of them. It’s enough that you can feel their pain through their expressions of lost hope, but some of them look like students I see ride to school. Some of them look like people I work with, and others, those I live with.
After two hours of visiting every room, looking at every image and reading every word, it’s time for me and my friend to leave and reflect upon what we’ve just experienced. We stare at each other for a long moment and say nothing. There isn’t anything to talk about.
I was encountered by a volunteer/tourist who was here in Cambodia for 3 weeks. When she learnt I had not been to the “Killing Fields” or “S-21,” she was astounded and could not believe that in five months I had not been to either. I am glad that I waited. Had I not known this culture, the language, created the relationships that I now have with many people in this country, what would my experience be then? If I had not learned the stories of this awful time in the history of the human race from the mouths of those who had experienced it, could I possibly begin to grasp what I was looking at? Can I really even do that now?
Maybe the next time I get upset over my fried noodles with beef costing 5000 CR instead of 4500 CR, I will have a little more to reflect on.

Talk to you soon,
Garrett

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Moments of Despair/Moments of Clarity

So, as many of you know, I went back to Amurrka for a couple of weeks with the main purpose being my brother's wedding of which I was the best man for. The wedding was absolutely beautiful, and I couldn't have asked to be part of something more beautiful. In fact, I was asked to be a part of it... I mean, I would hope I would be invited to my only brother's wedding. Okay, off topic. So, I won't get too deep into the nitty gritty of all of the amazing things I had the opportunity to do, see, eat, watch while I was in the States, because well, that'd be outright cruel for the few PCV friends in Cambodia that read this blog. The point is, I had two major "oh shit" moments while on vacation ("on vacation" is right, and I'll get to why that is absolutely relative and applicable to my point in a minute). Each moment lasted around 20 minutes.

The first:

I was driving back from seeing my brother and sister-in-law off to their honeymoon. I was driving my car back on a practically empty freeway going somewhere between 75-80 mph. I had some Daft Punk playing over the speakers, and the only thing I could think was, "Damn. Damn. This is so fantastic. I've never appreciated driving like this. I didn't realize how much I would miss this. Iiii'm not sure I wanna go back.

The second:

I was bitching to myself about having to lug back eight times as much stuff back home. It was then that I realized that I used the word "home". I was vacationing. America was a vacation for me. It was at that realization that I knew I was actually looking forward to comimg back...home. It's not just a place where my stuff happens to be, it's where I work, live, have the majority of the friends that I see most often.

Most of the people I've talked to who have been here for awhile and even those who have been here just as long as I have say they're so surprised everytime someone comes back from the States. But, to be honest, I feel so right about being here. Don't get me wrong. When my Close of Service (COS) comes around, I'm probably not planning on sticking around. I'll be excited to get back to the U.S. Now, though, I'm here, and I've got an amazing support group. My friend Sarah came over to me and rested her head on my knee while I was typing this, telling me how she gets so sad on the last day of these reunions. She said, "I feel like I've known you my whole life." For those of you who don't know, Sarah lived in Tucson for 10 years, so we've had plenty to reminisce about. Anyhow, it's comments like that that just keep me excited about ther and now rather than a year and a half from now. Needless to say, I'm in a good place.


p.s. Go Cats! (basketball)