On Hiatus

So, my laptop is broken...again. I won't be able to do much blogging now, since the computers in Cambodia are just way too slow to get anything done. When I return to the States, I'll type up four new blogposts. For now, pen and paper will have to do.

I am currently backpacking through Thailand, Laos and Vietnam. I'm in Bangkok right now and it's amazing. There are just no words, sometimes.

I'll be home in 22 days. Hope to see you all soon.

You Look Black!

From July 22, 2008

An interesting aspect of my life here with the children is the importance of skin color and race in Cambodia. In Khmer culture, skin color is tied to class. Darker skinned individuals are seen as lower class. Peasants and farm workers usually have darker skin from being in the sun all day, so this is seen as negative in Cambodian society. Lighter skin is favored and associated with higher classes. I noticed how prevalent these ideas about skin color were as soon as I stepped off the plane. All the girls commented on my light skin and told me how beautiful I was. When I go to the market, I am usually stopped by older women who tell me how they love my light skin and small nose.

Accordingly, as much as they love people with white skin, I have seen the children say extremely racist things about people with dark skin. One example occurred when we were at the airport a few weeks ago, waiting for a new intern to arrive. I have noticed that when the kids travel to the airport and see people of all types and nationalities, they tend to laugh and make fun of the people who are not like them. They openly point and laugh at people of color. One of the older girls pointed at a man with dark skin, perhaps of African descent, and said, “If the new volunteer looks like that, I will tell him to get back on the plane.” I was shocked! I could not believe that one of the sweetest girls at the orphanage was being so blatantly racist and offensive. I ignored the comment at first, not knowing what to say. But then, she asked me, “Would you be happy if your skin looked like that?” I told her that it would not make a difference, since I was the same person on the inside and skin color really does not matter.

Earlier today, I had a discussion about skin color with the same girl. Having returned from the beach, my skin is darker than when I left. She came up to me and, with a look of disgust, said, “You look black.” Laughing it off, I told her I tanned on the beach. She told me I should stay out of the sun, because I was so beautiful before and now my skin is so dark. Seeing how serious she was, I told her that no matter what color my skin is, I am still the same person. She walked off, with the same look on her face, as if to say, “Why would you deliberately darken your skin?”

I am not sure how to respond in such situations, because I do not want to imply that my cultural views are correct and theirs are not. However, it is extremely troubling to know that the children place so much importance on skin color. I think I dealt with these encounters correctly by telling them my opinion, and letting them know that there is more to a person than what is on the outside.

This Is Our Country, Not Your Country

July 21, 2008

Last weekend, I traveled to Sihanoukville. A few of my fellow interns and I took a four hour bus ride to the southern coast of Cambodia. Sihanoukville is very well known by tourists for its beautiful beaches and excellent seafood. I anticipated a relaxing time on the beach. Although I did have an enjoyable time overall, a number of events occurred that continue to trouble me as I write this.

I have become accustomed to seeing children working everywhere. I often see them cleaning tables at restaurants or selling books on the street. In Sihanoukville, girls and boys walk around to the tourists in beach chairs, offering to make them custom jewelry out of string or lanyard. A few girls came to talk to me and the other interns, and offered to make us “friendship bracelets” for free. I was skeptical, since nothing is really free, and I gave the girl who made mine a dollar. They eventually left after we told them we were not interested in buying anything. Later, the other interns changed their minds and purchased jewelry from different girls.

However, this was the wrong move. The girls who had made friendship bracelets somehow found out we purchased from other kids and confronted us that evening! As we ate dinner, six or seven girls surrounded us and asked us why we would give money to other kids, after they had made us friendship bracelets first! They stood there for about a half hour, attempting to get us to buy something from them by making us feel guilty. Since I had given my girl a dollar, she did not bother me. However, it was quite odd to feel so intimidated by this gang of eight or nine year old girls. It was also disturbing to think about where the money was going. Was I naïve to think it was going towards their education, as they told me? Was the money feeding their family? Or did they simply pass off the money to an adult who was just using them?

I was also deeply disturbed by the child prostitution I noticed there. At night, we would see white men casually walking by, holding hands with girls who looked extremely young. I would not be surprised if some of these girls were twelve or thirteen. Many of the girls were clearly intoxicated, struggling to walk without falling down. It was disgusting to see these fifty and sixty year old men cavorting and flirting with these girls as if there was nothing wrong with what they were doing. I have a serious problem with anyone who would travel thousands of miles to live out the disgusting fantasy they have in their heads.

Essentially, it is about power and Orientalism. These men have ideas of docile, Asian women and children being submissive to their demands. They do not think of the woman they are violating as an individual, someone’s child, someone’s mother, someone’s sister, someone with a personality and dreams and ideas. It is absolutely appalling to know that this is going on across the world. However, it goes even further when you see it happening right in front of you and you are entirely helpless. Should I call a hotline and be satisfied when they tell me that they know about the problem and they are working on it? Am I supposed to confront one man and tell him he is disgusting, while thousands of other men are doing the same thing? Do I help the girl, who has probably been raped so many times since she was five that she cannot imagine any other life? How can I do anything?

Sincerely, Little Girl

July 16, 2008

After about a month, I finally have a roommate! Becca is a student at New York University, working at the Palm Tree Orphanage to fulfill a requirement for her Masters degree in Social Work. She also has a Masters in Art Therapy, so she plans to hold one on one sessions with the mentally disabled children. Through art, she will work with the children to understand more about their pasts and help them cope with what they have been through. Becca is passionate about many of the same social change issues as I am, so I look forward to spending more time with her.

My classes are going well. The students are scheduled to take monthly exams tomorrow, so I look forward to tracking their progress. Their English tests consist of seven parts, including Reading, Writing, Listening, Speaking, Homework, Hygiene and Participation. I notice that my students’ have the most difficulty with reading. I believe they were taught incorrectly originally, because they are usually unable to pair letters with sounds. For example, if I write the letter R on the board, they will not be able to make an R sound. They can pronounce the word apple, simply because they have heard it before and can repeat it. But if I ask them to pronounce the word approach, they would not know where to begin. When they are reading, I tell them to sound the words out, but they do not know what that means. They are accustomed to just imitating the sounds phonetically, without pairing them with the letters. This is a huge problem, because they will be unable to use their knowledge to sound out new words; they will only be able to imitate the words they have been taught. I am slowly trying to correct this problem, but I am not sure how successful I will be.

As Election Day is on July 27, I have engaged many of the staff members in discussion about the government and political process in Cambodia. Though over twenty parties run, it is expected that the Cambodian People’s Party (CPP) will win once again. The party has been in power since the end of the Khmer Rouge regime. Many people in the rural areas of Cambodia attribute Pol Pot’s downfall to the work of the CPP, so they consistently vote for them. However, the party is extremely corrupt and does little to help those living in poverty. It is very interesting to see how political campaigns are conducted here. Large trucks representing different parties drive around the city, blasting political messages from loudspeakers and handing out pamphlets.

This dialogue between the staff and I has resulted in a lot of questions about the upcoming election in the United States. When I told them that some people in America choose not to vote, they did not understand. The United States government provides a number of services for their citizens, which is unheard of in Cambodia. The government here will not help its citizens unless they receive some type of payment in return. Police officers accept bribes daily, and are seen as more of a problem than the crimes they are supposed to prevent. To impoverished Cambodians, the United States is seen as an amazing country of opportunity and support. Therefore, they could not possibly see how American citizens would choose not to be involved in the political process.

Even though I told them I agreed with them, I realize that I have often taken our government for granted too. I vehemently disagree with almost all of George W. Bush’s views and the actions of his administration over the past eight years. However, despite who is in office, the United States still provides so many freedoms that other countries do not. Simply writing an opinion article criticizing the President or walking hand in hand with your partner could be a crime in some countries. Though I did not realize it at first, I have taken a great deal for granted in the United States and I am glad that I have this experience to remind me of how fortunate I am.

S-21 and The Killing Fields

From July 14, 2008

It is hard to believe that I am halfway through my summer in Cambodia. Though it has been a relatively short time, I have already learned so much about the country and its people. The children and my assistant teachers love to tell me about their culture and beliefs, which has been incredibly helpful. Being here and interacting with the locals has taught me more than any book ever could and I realize how valuable my time here has been.

Yesterday, the Palm Tree staff invited the volunteers to see the Killing Fields and S-21, the Khmer Rouge torture camp. I had read and written about Pol Pot’s regime in college, so I did know some background information about the genocide. However, I was still entirely unprepared for what we encountered. We first visited the Killing Fields, where the Khmer Rouge would take prisoners, execute them, and throw them into mass graves. It was chilling to actually stand where such horrific massacres had taken place. Thousands of skulls filled a large pagoda in the center, as a tribute to those who were murdered. It was simply shocking to see the remains of those who were victims of the Khmer Rouge, right in front of me.

After visiting the Killing Fields, I was already feeling emotionally exhausted. I had studied so much about the genocide that standing so close to the mass graves was almost unbearable. I carried on to see S-21, also known as Tuol Sleng. This was a school that the Khmer Rouge used as an interrogation and torture camp. Each room in the school had a metal bed, which was accompanied by chains and torture devices. Cement dividers were created in some rooms, so that prisoners could be held in smaller cells. On the walls, we saw tally marks to keep track of who was interrogated and beaten. I was shocked to find that many of the rooms were still stained with blood. We also visited the documentation center, where we saw photos the Khmer Rouge took of the victims. It was so frightening to see photos of young children and mothers holding small babies, with facial expressions that seemed to cry out for help.

So many people were murdered by the Khmer Rouge. After Pol Pot’s regime took power, they evacuated Phnom Penh, in pursuit of creating a classless peasant society. They killed men, women and children who did not comply, as well as government officials, college professors and other intellectuals, resulting in millions of deaths. Walking around S-21, where so many people had been tortured, I began to think about how genocide occurs. How does one evil person convince others that torture and killing is acceptable? How does the rest of the world stand idly by as innocent people suffer? How can we ensure that genocide never occurs again? It is sad that these questions are unanswerable and that such massacres continue to this day. Despite the activism taking place on college campuses about Darfur, governments still turn away from those in need in Sudan. How can we, as a global society, work together to stop genocide? When will such hatred and depravity end?

Roughing It

From July 10, 2008.

Life at the Palm Tree Orphanage became a bit more challenging for me this week. It began with a two day long power outage. Previously, the power would go out for a few hours at a time. So when the lights and air conditioner went out at 7:00pm the other day, I did not think too much of it. I assumed it would return around 9:00pm or 10:00pm. I fell asleep rather comfortably, but woke up drenched in sweat. It was morning and the power had not yet returned! I did not worry too much, since I figured there was nothing I could do. Besides, not having the air conditioner on is only a minor inconvenience. I am more bothered by not being able to have a hot shower, as the water is heated by electricity. At around 8:00pm that night, the power was still not back. I decided to sleep outside in a mosquito net I fortunately brought with me, even though I was told it was unnecessary in Phnom Penh. The power returned the next morning and I am happy to have my air conditioner back!

However, though we have electricity, we are now without running water. Around the same time that the power returned, a pipe broke and now there is no water available for the interns’ or girls’ rooms. Having never lived without running water, I did not realize what I was taking for granted! For two days now, I have been unable to shower normally or flush the toilet. Yesterday, I showered out of a large bucket, which was an interesting experience. Through all of this upheaval, the kids have been incredibly helpful. This is the life they are used to, so they are willing to help me adapt. The girls helped me set up my mosquito net and slept beside me outside. They also filled and carried five gallon buckets of water to keep in my room so that I can wash and brush my teeth. It is very nice to have them help me along the way!

These experiences are helping me deal with transition. Before my time here, I used to avoid change. I kept a regular routine, and lived comfortably knowing exactly what would happen next. However, that is impossible in Cambodia. Every day is different and presents a unique challenge. I have learned to not get so worried about things that are out of my control. If the power is out and I cannot email my family, I cannot do anything about it. If the water is not running and I cannot shower as I am used to for several days, I will just have to live with it. I am slowly becoming accustomed to dealing with whatever changes come my way.

I am pleased that my classes are going well. The other day, I was reading to a few of the kids in my spare time. I noticed that one of the staff member’s wives was trying to listen from a distance. When I invited her to sit with us, one of the kids told me she did not speak any English, which is rare. Most adults at the orphanage know at least a few words. The next day, I arrived at my morning class to see the same woman sitting at a desk with a brand new notebook, waiting for me to begin my lesson! It was so interesting to see this grown woman sitting amongst seven and eight year old children, as eager to learn English as they were. She did quite well on her first day, and I stayed with her afterwards to review what she did not understand. I taught her the alphabet and a few basic greetings as well. I asked one of the children to tell her in Khmer that she was welcome to return to my class at any time, as she was an excellent student.

For some reason, hearing this woman memorize and recite the alphabet was so rewarding for me. I felt something that I do not usually feel when I teach. Perhaps it is because she is older, or maybe it is because she took the initiative to come to my classroom and learn. Either way, I felt very good about teaching this woman and I hope she continues to come to my class.

Siem Reap

From July 8, 2008.

Last weekend, I decided to take a small trip to celebrate living in Cambodia for a month. I travelled north to Siem Reap to see Angkor Wat. When I began studying about Cambodia, I remember being very interested in the beauty of Angkor Wat. The pictures I saw were simply breathtaking and I could not imagine such a pristine place existing on Earth. I knew that I would have to spend some time in Siem Reap this summer. The opportunity arose last week, as two volunteers wanted to see Angkor Wat before they ended their internship and left for the United States. I accompanied them and we visited the three main temples, Ta Prohm, Bayon and Angkor Wat. Angkor Wat is probably the most famous temple, especially because it adorns the Cambodian flag. However, I found them all equally beautiful and I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend.

As I walked through Ta Prohm, it finally hit me that I was successfully living and working in Cambodia. An idea that came to my mind randomly a year ago had come to fruition. I had found an organization on my own and taken the steps to secure an internship in a country with which the Watson Fellowship had no ties. Now that I am here, I realize how incredibly challenging it is to live in a developing nation, both mentally and physically. I am proud of how far I have come so far, but I realize I do have two months to go. I wonder how I will react to the rest of my time in Cambodia. Will it get easier? Will I still be emotionally drained each day from working with intelligent but impoverished children?

This summer has also been emotionally difficult due to the gender issue. I will admit that before I arrived in Cambodia, I completely underestimated the problems that I may encounter tied to gender. I knew that women were seen as inferior to men, as in many countries, but I did not know how pervasive this would be and how it would affect me. As a Women’s Studies major and a feminist, I am very passionate about fighting for equal rights for every person. However, I have seen things in Cambodia that trouble me so deeply, that I do not know how to contain it. For example, in Siem Reap, when I saw old white men walking around with young, Cambodian women who are clearly prostitutes, it enraged me. Why would they buy into a system that is so dangerous to women? Prostitutes are put in danger every day, as they are often assaulted or raped. They are not tested for sexually transmitted diseases and their general health is disregarded entirely. They do not receive a fair share of the money and they have limited opportunities to break free from prostitution and receive an education. I refuse to even discuss child prostitution, as it is an issue that I cannot bear to write about while I am in Cambodia.

In Siem Reap, I went from seeing the beautiful temples of Angkor Wat and thinking how lucky I was to be working in Cambodia, to seeing old men paying seventeen year old girls for sex and becoming disgusted. This actually describes by time thus far in Cambodia quite succinctly. It is an emotional rollercoaster. One minute, I will hear a child’s correct answer in class and happily realize they understand the concept I am teaching. Then, my mind will travel back to some of the terrible things I have seen here and I nearly want to cry. My time so far has been emotionally challenging but I am trying my best to embrace it. I am taking this as a learning experience and I hope to channel any negative energy into my goal to create social change, in one way or another.