Like most Americans, I grew up thinking that slavery was something that divided the nation 150 years ago and resulted in the 14th Amendment which officially ended it. Confined to history books, I eventually developed some notions that slavery might exist somewhere in world. News outlets occasionally throw out a story about sweatshops, debt-bondage, or victims of sex trafficking, carefully dancing around the word “slavery” or “slave”. A well-educated person should be able to realize that slavery is as real today as it was 150 years ago. Perhaps more astonishing, by some estimates, in absolute numbers, there are more people in some form of bondage by force of intimidation or violence than prior to the American Civil War. More than 25 million people!
This statement is outrageous and you should be outraged by it. In this day and age, slavery should be something of the past. Furthermore, we have never been more capable to accomplish that feat.
If you read the above with thought of slavery elsewhere, let me assure you that slavery exists in your backyard. Whether you live in Singapore, Sao Paulo or San Francisco, people are breaking laws to exploit and enslave other people. Even if you live in a small town, chances are that your supermarket or clothing store stocks products made by slaves somewhere in the production chains.
Living in Cambodia, I do not have to look far to find slavery. As I ride my bicycle home, I pass six different massage and karaoke parlors where young women are force by circumstances or plain brute force to prostitute themselves. This problem is huge and fueled by an insatiable domestic demand for sex. In the grand scheme, there are a handful of government workers, non-governmental organizations, and intra-governmental organizations attempting to break down an entrenched criminal system of global trafficking and slavery worth tens of billions of dollars.
However, these individual actors and organizations are making progress. Although it is slow, I have hope that more and more people will take action. For myself, I am trying to make the business I work for more aware of its responsibilities. Specifically, I want to provide valuable vocational training to former victims of trafficking. (If former prostitutes are not provided with skills to find high paying jobs, they are easily tempted back into a trade that provides quick profits.)
If you are living in a developed country, consider joining a local coalition to end slavery production in your community. In Seattle, there are contemporary abolitionists working to stem slavery through education and advocacy at Seattle Against Slavery or Washington Anti-trafficking Response Network | WARN.
The Jewish holiday of Passover is fast approaching. Passover celebrates the Exodus from Egypt – “Remember that you were a slave”. However, the holiday also makes clear that although we are out of Egypt our freedom is not complete. “This year we are slaves; next year may we be free people. [...] This year we are in exile; next year in Jerusalem.” I take this to mean that our freedom is collective, and our destination is singular, Yerushalayim, “the place where peace resides”. One person cannot be free when another is under the yoke of tyranny. My freedom and humanity are inherently tied to all others. Peace can only exist when we are all free.
Whether your are celebrating Passover, Easter, a New Year, or the first day of spring-like weather, I encourage you to reflect on the freedoms you have and the ones you have not yet obtained. Slavery exists and it is our responsibility to end it!
Other resources:
www.castla.org
www.freetheslaves.net
http://www.hagarinternational.org/
www.polarisproject.org/take-action
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Happy, but not Content
When I left for the United States, I knew that I needed a break from life in Cambodia. Cambodia is a wonderful place, but most foreigners who settle here also recognize the necessity to take refuge elsewhere from time to time. What I did not anticipate was the effect the United States would have on me.
While people often talk about reverse culture shock, I would not describe my experience as such. What I came to realize, perhaps again, was that the United States is a perfectly habitable place. More so, it is a place where I have great friends and family. Although I always knew those facts to be true, I often choose to forget them for the convenience that it offers when living abroad.
The challenges I faced re-acclimating to Cambodia were two-fold. First, Siem Reap is an ever-changing environment, with new foreigners coming and going, leaving their marks. This process of making and losing friends can be trying. Second, the time that I have already spent outside of the US throws into contrast what still lies ahead. Although my work here is valuable, the time I spend building a life here is time that I lose in the US.
I know that if I were to return to living in the United States, I would find my wanderlust grow and my ability to work in a fulfilling capcity limited. Ideally, the future would hold some sort of balance which would offer me the chance to live partially in the US and partially elsewhere. Such dicotomies seem difficult to obtain, and equally difficult to sustain once the pressures of one world bears upon the other.
What I am left with is the feeling that I am happy with my life as it exists now. However, I know in the back of my mind that my current circumstances are untenable. Sooner or later, something will give and I will be forced to make a decision on whether to stay, find a new location, or return home to regroup. Knowing the nature of one's change, but not the specifics compels one to search out that unknown. That search for those unknown specifics is the source of my discontent.
More specifically, I came to this conclusion as I lay happily on a pool-bed at a five-star hotel. I realized there, amid the women in bikinis, that although it might appear that I have reached a conclusion in the search for happiness, happiness does not stay in one place for long and I need to work to find out where it will be next.
(Or perhaps just discover someone with whom to share that happiness.)
While people often talk about reverse culture shock, I would not describe my experience as such. What I came to realize, perhaps again, was that the United States is a perfectly habitable place. More so, it is a place where I have great friends and family. Although I always knew those facts to be true, I often choose to forget them for the convenience that it offers when living abroad.
The challenges I faced re-acclimating to Cambodia were two-fold. First, Siem Reap is an ever-changing environment, with new foreigners coming and going, leaving their marks. This process of making and losing friends can be trying. Second, the time that I have already spent outside of the US throws into contrast what still lies ahead. Although my work here is valuable, the time I spend building a life here is time that I lose in the US.
I know that if I were to return to living in the United States, I would find my wanderlust grow and my ability to work in a fulfilling capcity limited. Ideally, the future would hold some sort of balance which would offer me the chance to live partially in the US and partially elsewhere. Such dicotomies seem difficult to obtain, and equally difficult to sustain once the pressures of one world bears upon the other.
What I am left with is the feeling that I am happy with my life as it exists now. However, I know in the back of my mind that my current circumstances are untenable. Sooner or later, something will give and I will be forced to make a decision on whether to stay, find a new location, or return home to regroup. Knowing the nature of one's change, but not the specifics compels one to search out that unknown. That search for those unknown specifics is the source of my discontent.
More specifically, I came to this conclusion as I lay happily on a pool-bed at a five-star hotel. I realized there, amid the women in bikinis, that although it might appear that I have reached a conclusion in the search for happiness, happiness does not stay in one place for long and I need to work to find out where it will be next.
(Or perhaps just discover someone with whom to share that happiness.)
Monday, July 26, 2010
Mouse in the House
After a charming Italian dinner to send-off my charming Italian roommate, I returned home a bit tipsy to find a brown spot running into the corner behind my bed. I kicked the bed and watched the brown spot run across to another hiding spot. There aren't many place to hid in my room, so when I kicked the suitcase the furry animal had no choice but to run back behind the bed.
At this point, I finally connected the dots that there was a mouse in my room. I wasn't sure what I was going to do about it, but I figured I needed shoes to do it. I went out to the foyer to put on a pair of black loafers sans socks. They looked like the type of hard-soled shoe that could both protect my feet and stomp the life out of a mouse. Granted, I didn't think that I was actually going to break any mice necks with my shoes, but to be on the safe side I wasn't going to chance using soft, rubbery running shoes.
All I really wanted at that moment was the mouse out of my room. Sure enough, when I re-entered and kicked around all the piece of furniture and closet space, there was no mouse to be found. It's a small room made out of concrete, tile and wood for the doors and shutters. There aren't many places to hide.
I then proceeded to check all of the house that I could and still no sign of the mouse. Tired from a full meal, I decided that there was no mouse in the room and it was time to go to sleep.
I was a bit worried that the mouse was still in room, but the thought only kept me up for an extra 15 minutes at which point I slumbered peacefully. That is until the hour of 4 AM, when my subconscious went into overdrive. It is highly likely that what I felt moving over my shoulder was the wind from the fan. However, there remained a distinct possibility that a mouse had just run over my shoulder blade. My subconscious wasn't going to have any of that.
At this point, I freaked out a bit. Over turning every piece of furniture, I worked myself into a frenzy that completely eliminated any possibility of a return to the sleep that I desired so much. Sleep deprived days at work make me irritable and grouchy. All I can say for sure is that there will be mousetraps in my house before nightfall.
At this point, I finally connected the dots that there was a mouse in my room. I wasn't sure what I was going to do about it, but I figured I needed shoes to do it. I went out to the foyer to put on a pair of black loafers sans socks. They looked like the type of hard-soled shoe that could both protect my feet and stomp the life out of a mouse. Granted, I didn't think that I was actually going to break any mice necks with my shoes, but to be on the safe side I wasn't going to chance using soft, rubbery running shoes.
All I really wanted at that moment was the mouse out of my room. Sure enough, when I re-entered and kicked around all the piece of furniture and closet space, there was no mouse to be found. It's a small room made out of concrete, tile and wood for the doors and shutters. There aren't many places to hide.
I then proceeded to check all of the house that I could and still no sign of the mouse. Tired from a full meal, I decided that there was no mouse in the room and it was time to go to sleep.
I was a bit worried that the mouse was still in room, but the thought only kept me up for an extra 15 minutes at which point I slumbered peacefully. That is until the hour of 4 AM, when my subconscious went into overdrive. It is highly likely that what I felt moving over my shoulder was the wind from the fan. However, there remained a distinct possibility that a mouse had just run over my shoulder blade. My subconscious wasn't going to have any of that.
At this point, I freaked out a bit. Over turning every piece of furniture, I worked myself into a frenzy that completely eliminated any possibility of a return to the sleep that I desired so much. Sleep deprived days at work make me irritable and grouchy. All I can say for sure is that there will be mousetraps in my house before nightfall.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
A Poem from my Bubba Lu and Other Reflections
From me to you
Here's a going away gift
I hope when you use it
It give you a lift
You've been back to Burien
Your American home
You've lived with friend Tom
But now you must roam
To travel afar
You have no phobia
So now you take off
To your job in Cambodia
Being in the US was a blast. Among the highlights were re-exploring Seattle's artistic side, experiencing California with Conor and Jam, returning to synagogue with my parents, hanging out and living with Tom and Lily, eating berries, visiting my favorite elementary school teacher, meeting Khmer-American students at the UW, cool and rainy NW weather, beautiful mountain settings, Mexican food, enjoying local beers with friends, meeting new people in casual settings, live theater, Daniel's bachelor party, board games, running through parks, walking on a beach with my sisters, the pride festival in SF with friends I haven't seen in years, bagels with jalapeno cream cheese, and having dinner with my immediate family.
Transitioning back to Cambodia has taken a bit more time than I expected. I am not sure if the emotion I am feeling is a longing to be back in the US or a longing for something new. Currently the hotel where I work is under reconstruction, which lends to a general feeling of flux.
The hotel closure also means I have a bit more spare time. It also means that I need to be more self-directed. While that is an ideal environment for some, I find that I accomplish less when I have less to do. Deadlines and demands get me moving. Open-ended tasks are encouragements to delay for a bit longer. I cannot say why I am wired this way, but it has held true in the past.
In the past few weeks, there have been some events that have lit a fire underneath my ass, but nothing strong enough to keep me running. Whatever it is that needs to kick me in the keister, I hope it happens soon so that I can get back into the swing of things.
Here's a going away gift
I hope when you use it
It give you a lift
You've been back to Burien
Your American home
You've lived with friend Tom
But now you must roam
To travel afar
You have no phobia
So now you take off
To your job in Cambodia
Being in the US was a blast. Among the highlights were re-exploring Seattle's artistic side, experiencing California with Conor and Jam, returning to synagogue with my parents, hanging out and living with Tom and Lily, eating berries, visiting my favorite elementary school teacher, meeting Khmer-American students at the UW, cool and rainy NW weather, beautiful mountain settings, Mexican food, enjoying local beers with friends, meeting new people in casual settings, live theater, Daniel's bachelor party, board games, running through parks, walking on a beach with my sisters, the pride festival in SF with friends I haven't seen in years, bagels with jalapeno cream cheese, and having dinner with my immediate family.
Transitioning back to Cambodia has taken a bit more time than I expected. I am not sure if the emotion I am feeling is a longing to be back in the US or a longing for something new. Currently the hotel where I work is under reconstruction, which lends to a general feeling of flux.
The hotel closure also means I have a bit more spare time. It also means that I need to be more self-directed. While that is an ideal environment for some, I find that I accomplish less when I have less to do. Deadlines and demands get me moving. Open-ended tasks are encouragements to delay for a bit longer. I cannot say why I am wired this way, but it has held true in the past.
In the past few weeks, there have been some events that have lit a fire underneath my ass, but nothing strong enough to keep me running. Whatever it is that needs to kick me in the keister, I hope it happens soon so that I can get back into the swing of things.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Luang Prabang
Luang Prabang is the ancient capital of Laos, the forgotten, land-locked country of South-East Asia. About five or ten years ago, backpackers, followed by more established travelers decided not to forget about Laos and the country has become a frequent stop-over.
I made my own visit over the past weekend. My review of the location is mixed, not because I had a bad time, but because I was visiting to get a feel for the place and what it would be like to live there in the future. My hotel is branching out and opening its second property. During my time in the UNESCO-protected town, I had the chance to meet the general manager of the new property, as well as the building site.
As far as a place to visit in SE Asia, I would place Luang Prabang on the top ten probably. It is easy-going in nearly every sense. The people do not try to hassle you into buying things, the shops are small and family-run, the streets are clean with only the occasional street dog, the temperature is mild and the environment exudes a feeling of calm. Nestled between the turns of the Mekong River, the Buddhist kings of past decided to construct one temple after the next. Walking through the town, a visitor is surrounded first by all the temples and then by the French colonial buildings that are now protected by the UNESCO organization.
In addition to the enjoyable pace of the town, visitors are encouraged to see the greater periphery of Northern Laos. Tour vendors offer one-day to week-long excursions that may include trekking, biking, Mahout courses, hill-tribe homestays, kayaking, or zip-line adventures. My friend, Conor, and I opted for a two-day trip that include trekking to Hmong and Khmu villages, followed by kayaking down one of the rivers that feeds into the Mekong.
Again, I have generally positive reviews for the experience. I would say that visiting a hill tribe did not seem like a particularly genuine experience and I would warn others about the risks related to this type of cultural tourism. People are not exhibits and the Laos tour guides are running the risk of turning cultural treasures into tired photo opportunities. The trekking and the kayaking were quite enjoyable. I narrowly missed a conflagration with some rock while kayaking and paddled away with a few bruises on my chest.
Small accidents and touristy gripes aside, my bigger concern with the place was its livability. Luang Prabang is about half the size of my current "city" of Siem Reap. The entire town can be covered without problem by bicycle. There are only a handful of places where expatriates seemed to meet and the most common choice of activities is drinking the ever-present and enjoyable Beer Lao.
When I lived in Seattle, I did not take enough opportunity to experience the arts, music and culture that give the city its vibrancy. However, having lived in a small city for nearly two years, I now recognize the importance of those outlets. At this point in my life, I would prefer to live in a larger city over a smaller center. For the opportunity that my work is providing, I am willing to downsize once more. However, now I am faced with answering the questions of "when?" and "for how long?"
One final point, if there is one word to describe the Siem Reap environment at this time of year, it is "dusty". Brown-red dust everywhere. Luang Prabang does not have this problem, but they exchange it with another. In preparation for the rice harvest, various hill tribes burn large patches of the verdant hills that compose Laos. These hills then trap the smoke to create one of the haziest environments I have ever seen, in pictures or in life. The one word to describe Luang Prabang at this time is "smoky".
I made my own visit over the past weekend. My review of the location is mixed, not because I had a bad time, but because I was visiting to get a feel for the place and what it would be like to live there in the future. My hotel is branching out and opening its second property. During my time in the UNESCO-protected town, I had the chance to meet the general manager of the new property, as well as the building site.
As far as a place to visit in SE Asia, I would place Luang Prabang on the top ten probably. It is easy-going in nearly every sense. The people do not try to hassle you into buying things, the shops are small and family-run, the streets are clean with only the occasional street dog, the temperature is mild and the environment exudes a feeling of calm. Nestled between the turns of the Mekong River, the Buddhist kings of past decided to construct one temple after the next. Walking through the town, a visitor is surrounded first by all the temples and then by the French colonial buildings that are now protected by the UNESCO organization.
In addition to the enjoyable pace of the town, visitors are encouraged to see the greater periphery of Northern Laos. Tour vendors offer one-day to week-long excursions that may include trekking, biking, Mahout courses, hill-tribe homestays, kayaking, or zip-line adventures. My friend, Conor, and I opted for a two-day trip that include trekking to Hmong and Khmu villages, followed by kayaking down one of the rivers that feeds into the Mekong.
Again, I have generally positive reviews for the experience. I would say that visiting a hill tribe did not seem like a particularly genuine experience and I would warn others about the risks related to this type of cultural tourism. People are not exhibits and the Laos tour guides are running the risk of turning cultural treasures into tired photo opportunities. The trekking and the kayaking were quite enjoyable. I narrowly missed a conflagration with some rock while kayaking and paddled away with a few bruises on my chest.
Small accidents and touristy gripes aside, my bigger concern with the place was its livability. Luang Prabang is about half the size of my current "city" of Siem Reap. The entire town can be covered without problem by bicycle. There are only a handful of places where expatriates seemed to meet and the most common choice of activities is drinking the ever-present and enjoyable Beer Lao.
When I lived in Seattle, I did not take enough opportunity to experience the arts, music and culture that give the city its vibrancy. However, having lived in a small city for nearly two years, I now recognize the importance of those outlets. At this point in my life, I would prefer to live in a larger city over a smaller center. For the opportunity that my work is providing, I am willing to downsize once more. However, now I am faced with answering the questions of "when?" and "for how long?"
One final point, if there is one word to describe the Siem Reap environment at this time of year, it is "dusty". Brown-red dust everywhere. Luang Prabang does not have this problem, but they exchange it with another. In preparation for the rice harvest, various hill tribes burn large patches of the verdant hills that compose Laos. These hills then trap the smoke to create one of the haziest environments I have ever seen, in pictures or in life. The one word to describe Luang Prabang at this time is "smoky".
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Catching up
No matter how much or little I work, I always feel behind. There are less than 50 days until my hotel closes for major renovations. During the hotel closure, I will be spending some time back in the US. My work has graciously allowed me to continue working while I back in the US, which gives me the chance to spend more time there.
I bought my ticket this week. I will coming back on the 25th of April and returning to SE Asia, tentatively, on the 7th of July. If construction is delayed and I am productive, I may extend my stay longer. I do not know when I will have another chance to spend such an extended amount of leave. I will also be continuing my contract with the company, with the expectation of helping to set-up a new hospitality school in Laos.
A few weeks ago, I showed my mother around Cambodia. It was quite a bit of fun for me to introduce her to my current lifestyle and social circles. We toured the south of Cambodia, experienced beach life, visited pepper fields, and strolled along a peaceful riverfront. Then we headed up to Siem Reap to take in the temples and the leisurely pace that the town offers.
Everything was going so well, that it was only natural for it to end on a negative note, in this case, with my mother falling off a slippery rock at a waterfall park and breaking her leg. However, my Mom is one tough cookie, and she walked up the 4 flights of narrow stairs to get out of the park, managed a local Cambodian clinic, and toughen through a 30 hour trip to get back to the US.
In other news, I made hamentashen and joined a very small Purim party.
I bought my ticket this week. I will coming back on the 25th of April and returning to SE Asia, tentatively, on the 7th of July. If construction is delayed and I am productive, I may extend my stay longer. I do not know when I will have another chance to spend such an extended amount of leave. I will also be continuing my contract with the company, with the expectation of helping to set-up a new hospitality school in Laos.
A few weeks ago, I showed my mother around Cambodia. It was quite a bit of fun for me to introduce her to my current lifestyle and social circles. We toured the south of Cambodia, experienced beach life, visited pepper fields, and strolled along a peaceful riverfront. Then we headed up to Siem Reap to take in the temples and the leisurely pace that the town offers.
Everything was going so well, that it was only natural for it to end on a negative note, in this case, with my mother falling off a slippery rock at a waterfall park and breaking her leg. However, my Mom is one tough cookie, and she walked up the 4 flights of narrow stairs to get out of the park, managed a local Cambodian clinic, and toughen through a 30 hour trip to get back to the US.
In other news, I made hamentashen and joined a very small Purim party.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Goodbye
The longer we live the more goodbyes we seem to end up saying. Oddly enough, the practice does not make it any easier. For the most part, the goodbyes that I am obligated to say in Cambodia are saddening, but not depressing. They mark the end of the time we get to share together in a foreign country, with the lingering promise that perhaps we will meet again on the crossroads of life.
This week I had to say goodbye to one of my co-workers, and it was a much harder goodbye to watch than any other. My co-worker's name is Sambat and he was finally diagnosed with leukemia at the end of last week. The diagnosis marked the climax of four months of odd symptoms that began with a swollen face.
The past two weeks saw a flurry of events that took Sambat from one hospital to the next, as the entire hotel watched the chances for treatment gradually fall away. Ultimately, the final verdict was passed down by an American doctor on Friday, who pronounced the case untreatable. The doctor's prognosis was that Sambat would last no longer than a month. Even the next five days would be a challenge.
I am not particularly great friends with Sambat. We were always friendly, but our personalities and interests were different. We would socialized with the same people at different times. He exhibited a cheerful, happy-go-lucky attitude that I found uplifting sometimes and grating at others.
Over the past months, I watched this confident, healthy 22-year old lose a battle with his own body, robbing him of the most basic human rights. Two weeks ago, he lost the strength to walk. The past week, his severe swelling made it nearly impossible to eat or drink anything. The excruciating pain, also made sleep extremely difficult to obtain.
The total of those events led Sambat to beg those around him to end his life. It was not until the day after the American doctor's visit that Sambat finally received the pain medication suitable for his condition. Within minutes of his first injection of morphine, he slipped into a deep, relaxing sleep. Although his face was swollen, his lips and skin bulging out of their normal shape, it looked for a moment that a smile appeared on his face.
I can find no logic or reason in the death of a young man. It would be comforting to know that in the great universe of crossroads, perhaps where the real plane crosses with the imaginary plane, or where this dimension coincides with another, that friends and loved ones have the opportunity to meet again.
However, at this moment, I would be equally comforted to know that sleep is peaceful and that the last sleep we take is more tranquil, calm, and painless than any night of sleep that precedes it. To you Sambat, I wish you a very good sleep. Goodnight and see you in dreams.
This week I had to say goodbye to one of my co-workers, and it was a much harder goodbye to watch than any other. My co-worker's name is Sambat and he was finally diagnosed with leukemia at the end of last week. The diagnosis marked the climax of four months of odd symptoms that began with a swollen face.
The past two weeks saw a flurry of events that took Sambat from one hospital to the next, as the entire hotel watched the chances for treatment gradually fall away. Ultimately, the final verdict was passed down by an American doctor on Friday, who pronounced the case untreatable. The doctor's prognosis was that Sambat would last no longer than a month. Even the next five days would be a challenge.
I am not particularly great friends with Sambat. We were always friendly, but our personalities and interests were different. We would socialized with the same people at different times. He exhibited a cheerful, happy-go-lucky attitude that I found uplifting sometimes and grating at others.
Over the past months, I watched this confident, healthy 22-year old lose a battle with his own body, robbing him of the most basic human rights. Two weeks ago, he lost the strength to walk. The past week, his severe swelling made it nearly impossible to eat or drink anything. The excruciating pain, also made sleep extremely difficult to obtain.
The total of those events led Sambat to beg those around him to end his life. It was not until the day after the American doctor's visit that Sambat finally received the pain medication suitable for his condition. Within minutes of his first injection of morphine, he slipped into a deep, relaxing sleep. Although his face was swollen, his lips and skin bulging out of their normal shape, it looked for a moment that a smile appeared on his face.
I can find no logic or reason in the death of a young man. It would be comforting to know that in the great universe of crossroads, perhaps where the real plane crosses with the imaginary plane, or where this dimension coincides with another, that friends and loved ones have the opportunity to meet again.
However, at this moment, I would be equally comforted to know that sleep is peaceful and that the last sleep we take is more tranquil, calm, and painless than any night of sleep that precedes it. To you Sambat, I wish you a very good sleep. Goodnight and see you in dreams.
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