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.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Domestic Abuse
I got socked in the eye by a door a few nights ago. It was a hotel door, with the ball latches that allow you to open the door and peak outside without letting someone in.
When I heard my friend knocking outside at 1 AM, I opened the door for him with my eye level to the fist-like catch. My friend decided he needed to get into the room more quickly than I could pull it open, so he pushed forward. As we both had some drinks, this led to the predictable ending of the door punching me in the face.
I wasn't so happy at the time of the event, but it seemed rather hilarious in the morning. My friend said he was sorry and that it would never happen again (They always say that don't they). I really hope someone asks how I got this shiner so I can say, "No. I am telling the truth; I just ran into a door."
When I heard my friend knocking outside at 1 AM, I opened the door for him with my eye level to the fist-like catch. My friend decided he needed to get into the room more quickly than I could pull it open, so he pushed forward. As we both had some drinks, this led to the predictable ending of the door punching me in the face.
I wasn't so happy at the time of the event, but it seemed rather hilarious in the morning. My friend said he was sorry and that it would never happen again (They always say that don't they). I really hope someone asks how I got this shiner so I can say, "No. I am telling the truth; I just ran into a door."
Monday, December 21, 2009
Three months fly by
For those who are still following this blog only to see that nothing is updated, I apologize. I haven't posted an entry in quite some time, but it hasn't been for the lack of good material. In fact the past three months have been filled with great stories, but none of the time to sit down and write them. My lack of a working camera has also made it difficult to record the events pictorially.
Rather than trying to haphazardly tell the stories and events, I am just going to list the events and allow whoever is reading this to piece the details together.
Watched some friends and their organization get blacklisted from Cambodia, with the requirement that they leave within 24 hours.
Thought I had saved someone's life, but found out two months later that I didn't.
Dated a co-worker, became the center of the rumor mill, and eventually decided that the whole thing was a big mistake.
Attended at least 10 good-bye parties.
Joined a bible study, which ended up being rather discouraging for the people who were hoping to open my eyes to the splendor of their Christ; the bible study was subsequently dissolved.
Was sent on a business trip to Hong Kong with a notice of two days. Business trip consisted of drinking gin, trying to socialize, and picking up an award for something I am casually involved with.
Traveled to a conflict zone, met both sides of the conflict, and tried to speak with my limited vocabulary of both languages.
Watched a land-mine being removed from a road I traveled down fairly regularly and assumed was perfectly safe.
Watched a boy who had no way to communicate for four years, suddenly find the right people and tools to teach him how.
Was instrumental in helping to build a three-classroom school for a hundred children that had been studying in an unstable shack. Oddly enough, I did not feel completely satisfied on the completion of the school.
Selected 25 new students for hospitality education, with personal stories that ranged from murderous fathers to orphaned children who sleep outside.
Avoided dengue fever, unlike five of my co-workers.
Donated blood, with minor complications that resulted in a gigantic bruise across my arm.
Went to an indoor rock climbing wall on a regular basis, but then not at all.
Hosted about 15-20 random strangers to sleep in my guestroom. The most interesting of which was either the triathlon athlete who was riding his bicycle around the world or the Vietnamese-American who lived in Mongolia.
Ate tofu seasoned with concrete.
Swept water out of my house twice, once after an entire day of heavy rains, then again three days later when the river spilled over and flooded large portions of the city.
Watched the roads turn from bad to terrible and then, with a quick declaration from the Prime Mister, restored with the kind of speed that only an authoritarian ruler can make possible.
Lived perfectly content without a TV for three months, but finally broke down and bought one. Haven't noticed much of a difference.
Visited the outstanding Islamic Art Museum in Kuala Lumpur and came to the conclusion that Islamic societies get very little recognition for their advances to general world development.
Stopped the potential use of child labor at my workplace.
Looked at a piece of land being sold by someone who seemed to be running a brothel, and decided that that was enough reason not to buy the land.
Paid a bribe to a Cambodian solider to camp at a 14th century temple. Spent the later evening watching the stars and eating chips-ahoy cookies with the person that we paid-off.
Figured out a way to make sure that my roommate could pay for university without getting a loan that might ruin him.
Learned how to drive a motorcycle. Use of the breaks is still a problem sometimes.
Swam in an ancient reservoir.
Was complemented on my performance as Master of Ceremony at the hotel's graduation ceremony.
Underwent some difficult staff issues and meetings that ultimately led to the resignation of one of my staff, who has five years of experience with the hotel.
Bicycled around Angkor Wat in nearly complete darkness.
Jumped into a saltwater pool with all of my clothes on, and pulled a World Bank consultant into the pool with me.
Watched Kung-Fu Panda a dozen times with co-workers, who never tired of the jokes.
Became more inebriated than necessary in a night that began with a third of a bottle of whiskey, followed by beer, then another bottle of whiskey, and finishing with shots of sambuca and sips from a bucket of redbull plus unknown alcohol. Amazingly, I still made it to work at midday on Sunday, sober, for the extra work I had scheduled.
Denied a young, Cambodian girl her graduation diploma in a conversation that was filled by a large amount of tears.
Terrorized some small cats (no physical harm) in the hope that they would stop begging for food at our staff canteen.
Watched an elderly woman have her decayed, red-stained teeth pulled.
Organized a day trip for a group of 60 hotel consultants.
Something else amazing that I cannot write in any open forum.
Well, that is it. I hope that I will have more time to write stories from now on, but something tells me that that may not be true.
Rather than trying to haphazardly tell the stories and events, I am just going to list the events and allow whoever is reading this to piece the details together.
Watched some friends and their organization get blacklisted from Cambodia, with the requirement that they leave within 24 hours.
Thought I had saved someone's life, but found out two months later that I didn't.
Dated a co-worker, became the center of the rumor mill, and eventually decided that the whole thing was a big mistake.
Attended at least 10 good-bye parties.
Joined a bible study, which ended up being rather discouraging for the people who were hoping to open my eyes to the splendor of their Christ; the bible study was subsequently dissolved.
Was sent on a business trip to Hong Kong with a notice of two days. Business trip consisted of drinking gin, trying to socialize, and picking up an award for something I am casually involved with.
Traveled to a conflict zone, met both sides of the conflict, and tried to speak with my limited vocabulary of both languages.
Watched a land-mine being removed from a road I traveled down fairly regularly and assumed was perfectly safe.
Watched a boy who had no way to communicate for four years, suddenly find the right people and tools to teach him how.
Was instrumental in helping to build a three-classroom school for a hundred children that had been studying in an unstable shack. Oddly enough, I did not feel completely satisfied on the completion of the school.
Selected 25 new students for hospitality education, with personal stories that ranged from murderous fathers to orphaned children who sleep outside.
Avoided dengue fever, unlike five of my co-workers.
Donated blood, with minor complications that resulted in a gigantic bruise across my arm.
Went to an indoor rock climbing wall on a regular basis, but then not at all.
Hosted about 15-20 random strangers to sleep in my guestroom. The most interesting of which was either the triathlon athlete who was riding his bicycle around the world or the Vietnamese-American who lived in Mongolia.
Ate tofu seasoned with concrete.
Swept water out of my house twice, once after an entire day of heavy rains, then again three days later when the river spilled over and flooded large portions of the city.
Watched the roads turn from bad to terrible and then, with a quick declaration from the Prime Mister, restored with the kind of speed that only an authoritarian ruler can make possible.
Lived perfectly content without a TV for three months, but finally broke down and bought one. Haven't noticed much of a difference.
Visited the outstanding Islamic Art Museum in Kuala Lumpur and came to the conclusion that Islamic societies get very little recognition for their advances to general world development.
Stopped the potential use of child labor at my workplace.
Looked at a piece of land being sold by someone who seemed to be running a brothel, and decided that that was enough reason not to buy the land.
Paid a bribe to a Cambodian solider to camp at a 14th century temple. Spent the later evening watching the stars and eating chips-ahoy cookies with the person that we paid-off.
Figured out a way to make sure that my roommate could pay for university without getting a loan that might ruin him.
Learned how to drive a motorcycle. Use of the breaks is still a problem sometimes.
Swam in an ancient reservoir.
Was complemented on my performance as Master of Ceremony at the hotel's graduation ceremony.
Underwent some difficult staff issues and meetings that ultimately led to the resignation of one of my staff, who has five years of experience with the hotel.
Bicycled around Angkor Wat in nearly complete darkness.
Jumped into a saltwater pool with all of my clothes on, and pulled a World Bank consultant into the pool with me.
Watched Kung-Fu Panda a dozen times with co-workers, who never tired of the jokes.
Became more inebriated than necessary in a night that began with a third of a bottle of whiskey, followed by beer, then another bottle of whiskey, and finishing with shots of sambuca and sips from a bucket of redbull plus unknown alcohol. Amazingly, I still made it to work at midday on Sunday, sober, for the extra work I had scheduled.
Denied a young, Cambodian girl her graduation diploma in a conversation that was filled by a large amount of tears.
Terrorized some small cats (no physical harm) in the hope that they would stop begging for food at our staff canteen.
Watched an elderly woman have her decayed, red-stained teeth pulled.
Organized a day trip for a group of 60 hotel consultants.
Something else amazing that I cannot write in any open forum.
Well, that is it. I hope that I will have more time to write stories from now on, but something tells me that that may not be true.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Student loaning
My roommate is having troubles paying for his university education, which is all-around worrisome. He became my roommate when he was first having troubles paying bills. Prior to living with me, free of rent but including utilities, he was living at the pagoda.
He moved to the main town of Siem Reap from his village about 25 kilometers away. His parents are elderly farmers, and he has two younger siblings who are currently in high school. When he came to Siem Reap he was ambitious to find education. He received some training at the pagoda, which offered him a place to sleep. His English improved greatly and he was able to graduate from high school.
He then was selected to study at my workplace, which trains young, disadvantaged students in Hospitality. He trained in the restaurant and was near the top of the class. As he was nearing the time for graduation, our storekeeper at the hotel left his position somewhat suddenly. My roommate was offered the open position, which he took.
At that time, he was 22 and he needed to leave the pagoda, because he was already too old to be staying there without being a monk. So, then he moved in with me, and things have been fine as far as I knew.
We aren't the closest of roommates. We both spend a large amount of our time at work, and after he finishes his job, he goes to university. On his day off, he takes his motorbike home to help his parents with chores and on their farm. Sometimes we would grab a beer together, but lately he does not go out at all.
His expenses include half of the utilities (about $10), his university education, and his motorbike. He eats his meals at the hotel and I provide him a room. I was therefore a bit surprised when he told me that he would be unable to pay his half of the utilities this month. (He said he would pay double next month.)
I don't really care about the utilities. I have a roommate because I don't want to live alone. I want him to pay half of the utilities so that he has some vested interest in the well-being of the house. I was surprised because his monthly expenses are so low. He told me he didn't have any money because he needs to pay back the salary advance he took from the hotel and he also needed to pay for his siblings’ education.
This is worrisome, but I told him that we would sit down and discuss how he was going to manage his expenses so that he doesn't get burdened with debt. If it comes to it, we will talk about whether he needs a student loan. I haven't had that awkward conversation yet, but thinking about the situation, I can't help but wonder why there aren't better systems to provide student loans.
Why are there no merit-based student loans - ones based on your grades, university and major instead of solely on your current ability (or your parents’ ability) to repay? In the US, bank-provided student loans are pretty much just unsecured loan, often cosigned with a parent. Many students in the US rely on credit cards to pay for expenses, which is a terrible idea.
In spite of this, education is perhaps the best investment a person can make. The rates of return are higher than nearly any other investment (especially given the current housing market). It seems then, that loans should be given to students who have a high probability of success out of university, such as engineer and science majors.
Perhaps someone can provide some insight on this issue. I would certainly appreciate it.
He moved to the main town of Siem Reap from his village about 25 kilometers away. His parents are elderly farmers, and he has two younger siblings who are currently in high school. When he came to Siem Reap he was ambitious to find education. He received some training at the pagoda, which offered him a place to sleep. His English improved greatly and he was able to graduate from high school.
He then was selected to study at my workplace, which trains young, disadvantaged students in Hospitality. He trained in the restaurant and was near the top of the class. As he was nearing the time for graduation, our storekeeper at the hotel left his position somewhat suddenly. My roommate was offered the open position, which he took.
At that time, he was 22 and he needed to leave the pagoda, because he was already too old to be staying there without being a monk. So, then he moved in with me, and things have been fine as far as I knew.
We aren't the closest of roommates. We both spend a large amount of our time at work, and after he finishes his job, he goes to university. On his day off, he takes his motorbike home to help his parents with chores and on their farm. Sometimes we would grab a beer together, but lately he does not go out at all.
His expenses include half of the utilities (about $10), his university education, and his motorbike. He eats his meals at the hotel and I provide him a room. I was therefore a bit surprised when he told me that he would be unable to pay his half of the utilities this month. (He said he would pay double next month.)
I don't really care about the utilities. I have a roommate because I don't want to live alone. I want him to pay half of the utilities so that he has some vested interest in the well-being of the house. I was surprised because his monthly expenses are so low. He told me he didn't have any money because he needs to pay back the salary advance he took from the hotel and he also needed to pay for his siblings’ education.
This is worrisome, but I told him that we would sit down and discuss how he was going to manage his expenses so that he doesn't get burdened with debt. If it comes to it, we will talk about whether he needs a student loan. I haven't had that awkward conversation yet, but thinking about the situation, I can't help but wonder why there aren't better systems to provide student loans.
Why are there no merit-based student loans - ones based on your grades, university and major instead of solely on your current ability (or your parents’ ability) to repay? In the US, bank-provided student loans are pretty much just unsecured loan, often cosigned with a parent. Many students in the US rely on credit cards to pay for expenses, which is a terrible idea.
In spite of this, education is perhaps the best investment a person can make. The rates of return are higher than nearly any other investment (especially given the current housing market). It seems then, that loans should be given to students who have a high probability of success out of university, such as engineer and science majors.
Perhaps someone can provide some insight on this issue. I would certainly appreciate it.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Left-handed, not backwards-handed
I took five of my culinary students to a Korean bakery this afternoon for an interview. I don't think any of them have had much experience with interviews, outside of the one I gave them, in their village backgrounds. Interviews by their very nature are intimidating and unenjoyable. The added stress of undergoing an interview in another language must be even more painful.
However, the real comedy of the unfolding situation is that the person doing the hiring is the chef, not the owners. While the owners are cordial and speak fairly fluent English and exude the warmth that young Asian couple often do, the chef is a gruff old man with less English knowledge than my students. When he sits down in his chair to join the interview, his legs are set akimbo and his feet meet on the floor creating diamond of open air that showcases his crotch. His torso is pushed back a bit, but his face is aligned vertically with crotch. With his hands gripping the armrests, it looks as if he is ready to pounce and rip the jugular of every applicant at the table.
The young couple tries to temper his questions. I know from sound that they are speaking Korean, but in my mind it sounds like they are translating a Klingon war decree through a Federation mediator. Eventually, we finish with the formalities, and the nice young couple admits that they have no idea who to choose. This seems reasonable because the students all come from somewhat similar disadvantaged backgrounds. So I make the casual suggestion that the chef tests them in the kitchen.
That was overall a bad idea. It's not that the idea didn't work, but that it was so comically wrong. The chef had one test, and as far as I could tell it had nothing to do with cooking. The chef pulled out an egg from thin air (in retrospect he probably got it from under the table). He displays the egg in his left hand, with his arm positioned in a 90 degree angle. He is holding the egg like it is an item of power. Suddenly, he produces more eggs and non-verbally instructs the interviewees to do as he is doing.
Just before he passes the eggs out, he asks for a question to be translated. "Is anyone left-handed?" After some confusion, one of my students raises his hand sheepishly. The chef looks away toward the ground, a bit disgusted, and mutters something. The kind young Korean woman apologizes to my student and says that the chef will not hire left-handed cooks. My student is completely confused and I am just taken aback.
Immediately, the eggs get distributed to the students and they are asked to perform the test. The test involves holding an egg, in your left hand, with your forearm prostrate, and spinning the egg with your thumb and fingers. I have never seen this test before and only stare in amazement. After 45 seconds, the chef signals them to stop.
He thinks, with his index finger and thumb rubbing his chin. Then he speaks with the nice young couple and selects the two students that showed the most promise. They turn to a third student and apologize to him. They say that he demonstrated a great deal of promise, but that his technique needs more refinement. They encourage everyone to apply again soon, as they would be hiring more individuals.
The students who were not selected walk out a bit dejected. I couldn't blame them. The only thing that was going through my mind was WTF! A 45-second egg spinning test and eliminating my left-handed student, what kind of crazy Korean exam is that! Why not ask them to name a recipe or bake a cake? Why not give them a test that has something to do with cooking!?
I keep my cool though and try to raise the spirits of my students. I offer to buy them ice cream, which they refuse. I tell them that interviewing is tough and that you just have to put yourself out there if you want something. However, what I want to say is, “that was a ridiculous interview and you will never have to go through that again.”
But all's well that ends well. Two of my students got jobs and the rest of them will have incentive to brush up on their egg twirling skills. Except that left-handed kid, he's just screwed no matter which way you look at it.
However, the real comedy of the unfolding situation is that the person doing the hiring is the chef, not the owners. While the owners are cordial and speak fairly fluent English and exude the warmth that young Asian couple often do, the chef is a gruff old man with less English knowledge than my students. When he sits down in his chair to join the interview, his legs are set akimbo and his feet meet on the floor creating diamond of open air that showcases his crotch. His torso is pushed back a bit, but his face is aligned vertically with crotch. With his hands gripping the armrests, it looks as if he is ready to pounce and rip the jugular of every applicant at the table.
The young couple tries to temper his questions. I know from sound that they are speaking Korean, but in my mind it sounds like they are translating a Klingon war decree through a Federation mediator. Eventually, we finish with the formalities, and the nice young couple admits that they have no idea who to choose. This seems reasonable because the students all come from somewhat similar disadvantaged backgrounds. So I make the casual suggestion that the chef tests them in the kitchen.
That was overall a bad idea. It's not that the idea didn't work, but that it was so comically wrong. The chef had one test, and as far as I could tell it had nothing to do with cooking. The chef pulled out an egg from thin air (in retrospect he probably got it from under the table). He displays the egg in his left hand, with his arm positioned in a 90 degree angle. He is holding the egg like it is an item of power. Suddenly, he produces more eggs and non-verbally instructs the interviewees to do as he is doing.
Just before he passes the eggs out, he asks for a question to be translated. "Is anyone left-handed?" After some confusion, one of my students raises his hand sheepishly. The chef looks away toward the ground, a bit disgusted, and mutters something. The kind young Korean woman apologizes to my student and says that the chef will not hire left-handed cooks. My student is completely confused and I am just taken aback.
Immediately, the eggs get distributed to the students and they are asked to perform the test. The test involves holding an egg, in your left hand, with your forearm prostrate, and spinning the egg with your thumb and fingers. I have never seen this test before and only stare in amazement. After 45 seconds, the chef signals them to stop.
He thinks, with his index finger and thumb rubbing his chin. Then he speaks with the nice young couple and selects the two students that showed the most promise. They turn to a third student and apologize to him. They say that he demonstrated a great deal of promise, but that his technique needs more refinement. They encourage everyone to apply again soon, as they would be hiring more individuals.
The students who were not selected walk out a bit dejected. I couldn't blame them. The only thing that was going through my mind was WTF! A 45-second egg spinning test and eliminating my left-handed student, what kind of crazy Korean exam is that! Why not ask them to name a recipe or bake a cake? Why not give them a test that has something to do with cooking!?
I keep my cool though and try to raise the spirits of my students. I offer to buy them ice cream, which they refuse. I tell them that interviewing is tough and that you just have to put yourself out there if you want something. However, what I want to say is, “that was a ridiculous interview and you will never have to go through that again.”
But all's well that ends well. Two of my students got jobs and the rest of them will have incentive to brush up on their egg twirling skills. Except that left-handed kid, he's just screwed no matter which way you look at it.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Untitled
I think I realized last night just how personally I take my work. What sparked it off was a two-minute conversation with someone I regard highly.
I was at an art gallery opening, enjoying the free food and drinks provided. Many of my friends from various NGOs were around. I ran into a casual friend who happens to have started a very successful NGO called Pepy Ride. (If you want to support their work, vote for them on the geotouism changemakers website here: http://geotourism.changemakers.com/en-us/node/16599/vote )
Anyway, we only spoke for about two minutes and she retold a friend of a friend story about how our programs were neither sustainable or effective. This was in regard to a time before I arrived, when the person running the program did not do a very good job. Nonetheless, I felt like it was a slight against me and my work thus far. It probably didn't help that the complaint mentioned two years ago is still somewhat valid today.
I could stop thinking about it all night and the following morning I wrote off a two-page response to explain the programs and defend my work. In retrospect, it was probably unnecessary. In fact, it made me feel a bit silly that I would get so upset and defensive.
My worry is that it points to a larger trouble which is that I am too attached to my programs. I have put a lot of time and energy into them, but at the end of the day I still have to realize that they are part of something bigger and separate from me. Also, I should know that the programs are not me, and that I have a life outside of work.
I know that whenever the time comes to step away from this job, the task will be quite difficult. For that reason, I need to be more conscious of the goals I am trying to achieve and the ensure that the final result will continue to live on in the next person who takes on this position.
-----------------
In contrary news, I will be taking over our bakery to try and turn our current losses into profits. Ideally, this bakery is supposed to make money for our school, not take it away.
Cons: I know little about business, I don't enjoy bossing people around
Pros: the learning experience, the smell of fresh bread
I was at an art gallery opening, enjoying the free food and drinks provided. Many of my friends from various NGOs were around. I ran into a casual friend who happens to have started a very successful NGO called Pepy Ride. (If you want to support their work, vote for them on the geotouism changemakers website here: http://geotourism.changemakers.com/en-us/node/16599/vote )
Anyway, we only spoke for about two minutes and she retold a friend of a friend story about how our programs were neither sustainable or effective. This was in regard to a time before I arrived, when the person running the program did not do a very good job. Nonetheless, I felt like it was a slight against me and my work thus far. It probably didn't help that the complaint mentioned two years ago is still somewhat valid today.
I could stop thinking about it all night and the following morning I wrote off a two-page response to explain the programs and defend my work. In retrospect, it was probably unnecessary. In fact, it made me feel a bit silly that I would get so upset and defensive.
My worry is that it points to a larger trouble which is that I am too attached to my programs. I have put a lot of time and energy into them, but at the end of the day I still have to realize that they are part of something bigger and separate from me. Also, I should know that the programs are not me, and that I have a life outside of work.
I know that whenever the time comes to step away from this job, the task will be quite difficult. For that reason, I need to be more conscious of the goals I am trying to achieve and the ensure that the final result will continue to live on in the next person who takes on this position.
-----------------
In contrary news, I will be taking over our bakery to try and turn our current losses into profits. Ideally, this bakery is supposed to make money for our school, not take it away.
Cons: I know little about business, I don't enjoy bossing people around
Pros: the learning experience, the smell of fresh bread
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
American Post
I made a point of not making any posts while I was in US. I figured that I spend my time on other things than being on the computer or watching TV. Overall, I think I did well on that commitment to myself. I didn't accomplish everything that I wanted to while I was in the States, but I think I hit the major goals, which were spending time with friends and family.
It was wonderful to be back, but also a bit strange, knowing that it would be a relatively short time before I was back in Cambodia. To start, it was a bit difficult to comprehend that I was even back – not physically, but as a state of mind. Periodically, I would compare things around me to things in Cambodia. Reflecting on the fact that the roads were so much nicer, that the buildings were so tall, that not all the people are Asian, you know, the simple things.
However, slowly, I started to notice the things that I love about the US: the bustle of a city, the sounds of street musicians, the taste of American microbrews (as opposed to the omnipresent lager of SE Asia), the way the Pacific Northwest is surrounded by astounding nature. Perhaps the greatest thing about the US, as I experienced it, is that it is so easy. It is easy to communicate, easy to get around, easy to buy things. However, the thing that I appreciate the most is that the problems are easy.
In Cambodia, small problems are endemic and point to larger problems. A cough that turns into a fever and then into malaria. A barely-funded classroom packed with children that points to a mismanaged school that points to pervasive government graft. That is not to diminish the problems of the US, but just to say that they are more manageable. The most complicated problem that affected me was downtown Seattle traffic. I even went on a police-ride-along with my best friend where we encountered an abusive boyfriend and two mentally impaired individuals who were. Although these sights were upsetting and point toward significant problems in US society, they still seemed small and conquerable.
That said, I don't envy anyone who is severely struggling as a result of this recession. However, I have come to realize that, for now, I do not need the easiness of the US. In spite of all the United States' comforts and fun, I am happy to be living, and sometimes floundering, internationally. Plus, I am comforted by the knowledge that wonderful family and friends and the comforts of the US will be waiting for me whenever I get back. Thank you.
It was wonderful to be back, but also a bit strange, knowing that it would be a relatively short time before I was back in Cambodia. To start, it was a bit difficult to comprehend that I was even back – not physically, but as a state of mind. Periodically, I would compare things around me to things in Cambodia. Reflecting on the fact that the roads were so much nicer, that the buildings were so tall, that not all the people are Asian, you know, the simple things.
However, slowly, I started to notice the things that I love about the US: the bustle of a city, the sounds of street musicians, the taste of American microbrews (as opposed to the omnipresent lager of SE Asia), the way the Pacific Northwest is surrounded by astounding nature. Perhaps the greatest thing about the US, as I experienced it, is that it is so easy. It is easy to communicate, easy to get around, easy to buy things. However, the thing that I appreciate the most is that the problems are easy.
In Cambodia, small problems are endemic and point to larger problems. A cough that turns into a fever and then into malaria. A barely-funded classroom packed with children that points to a mismanaged school that points to pervasive government graft. That is not to diminish the problems of the US, but just to say that they are more manageable. The most complicated problem that affected me was downtown Seattle traffic. I even went on a police-ride-along with my best friend where we encountered an abusive boyfriend and two mentally impaired individuals who were. Although these sights were upsetting and point toward significant problems in US society, they still seemed small and conquerable.
That said, I don't envy anyone who is severely struggling as a result of this recession. However, I have come to realize that, for now, I do not need the easiness of the US. In spite of all the United States' comforts and fun, I am happy to be living, and sometimes floundering, internationally. Plus, I am comforted by the knowledge that wonderful family and friends and the comforts of the US will be waiting for me whenever I get back. Thank you.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Trips
It is hard to believe that I will be back in the United States in less than two week. This time I will be in town for over a month, so I should have ample time to see just about everyone I want to see. My cell phone should be working so you can feel free to reach me there or at my e-mail address.
For the moment, I am preparing for a weekend trip to Vietnam. I am a bit nervous about going. As a citizen of the United States, I can't help but feel a bit guilty for the collective responsibility of our nation's actions. I imagine that if I were a middle-aged Vietnamese person (either from the North or South), I would be a bit pissed off about American backpackers lounging around my cities and beaches.
Although, I will be meeting up with a Vietnamese-American friend, so I hope that will smooth everything over. Also, I am super excited about eating Vietnamese cuisine.
For the moment, I am preparing for a weekend trip to Vietnam. I am a bit nervous about going. As a citizen of the United States, I can't help but feel a bit guilty for the collective responsibility of our nation's actions. I imagine that if I were a middle-aged Vietnamese person (either from the North or South), I would be a bit pissed off about American backpackers lounging around my cities and beaches.
Although, I will be meeting up with a Vietnamese-American friend, so I hope that will smooth everything over. Also, I am super excited about eating Vietnamese cuisine.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
I am not a triskaidekaphobic.
I thought about responding to one of those "I wrote 25 things about myself that you don't know; now I want you to do the same thing." If I had, one of the things that you would be surprised to know about me is that I have a fear of pandemics.
My fear is not of disease or even dying of diseases, but more that there could be some disease that spreads from person to person, indiscriminately debilitating and killing worldwide. The fact that you cannot see diseases and often the warning signs do not appear before it is too late compounds my fears.
In the second grade I was so afraid that HIV/AIDS could be spread from something as innocuous as a band-aid that my mother took me to the Puget Sound Blood Center to learn about blood and the risks of disease transmission. Sometime later, I saw a preview for the movie "Outbreak" and it scare the bejebus out of me [note: I don’t believe in jebus]. I had nightmares about killer viruses for a solid year. It didn't help that Ebola was a real and incredibly deadly disease.
(I finally saw the movie last year and it was quite stupid, but the world map of the pandemic's growth still freaked me out a bit. I think part of me is just afraid of negative things with exponential growth. I also have a fear of overpopulation and destruction of the rainforests that started when I was smaller.)
For the most part, I have been able to temper my fear of pandemics. I even took an epidemiology class in university which was thoroughly fascinating. However, the re-emergence of a flu virus like that of the Spanish Flu is particularly worrisome. The fact that individuals with healthy immune systems are more susceptible is also alarming.
Nonetheless, I am calm. In part, I am calmed by the knowledge that there have been no reported cases of the swine flu in Cambodia. But mostly, I am calmed because most people are acting hysterical. I am speaking specifically about the people in the blogosphere who cannot help but spread misinformation and flaunt their ignorance. There really is nothing quite like hysterical people to prove that you have a rational, perhaps even healthy, fear of something.
Fear is sometimes respect wrapped up in paranoia. Respect is a good thing, for we must respect the gravity of the problem if we hope to defeat it. I just hope they defeat before it reaches me.
My fear is not of disease or even dying of diseases, but more that there could be some disease that spreads from person to person, indiscriminately debilitating and killing worldwide. The fact that you cannot see diseases and often the warning signs do not appear before it is too late compounds my fears.
In the second grade I was so afraid that HIV/AIDS could be spread from something as innocuous as a band-aid that my mother took me to the Puget Sound Blood Center to learn about blood and the risks of disease transmission. Sometime later, I saw a preview for the movie "Outbreak" and it scare the bejebus out of me [note: I don’t believe in jebus]. I had nightmares about killer viruses for a solid year. It didn't help that Ebola was a real and incredibly deadly disease.
(I finally saw the movie last year and it was quite stupid, but the world map of the pandemic's growth still freaked me out a bit. I think part of me is just afraid of negative things with exponential growth. I also have a fear of overpopulation and destruction of the rainforests that started when I was smaller.)
For the most part, I have been able to temper my fear of pandemics. I even took an epidemiology class in university which was thoroughly fascinating. However, the re-emergence of a flu virus like that of the Spanish Flu is particularly worrisome. The fact that individuals with healthy immune systems are more susceptible is also alarming.
Nonetheless, I am calm. In part, I am calmed by the knowledge that there have been no reported cases of the swine flu in Cambodia. But mostly, I am calmed because most people are acting hysterical. I am speaking specifically about the people in the blogosphere who cannot help but spread misinformation and flaunt their ignorance. There really is nothing quite like hysterical people to prove that you have a rational, perhaps even healthy, fear of something.
Fear is sometimes respect wrapped up in paranoia. Respect is a good thing, for we must respect the gravity of the problem if we hope to defeat it. I just hope they defeat before it reaches me.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Worst day of work
Last Tuesday was probably the worst day of work for me, through no fault of my own. I entered work relatively cool-headed. I figured that the only disappointment that I would have to face would be jibes from my co-workers about losing the staff party. Instead, I received news that one of my students had been caught stealing an employee’s phone.
As the School Director, I got to sit in on the meeting where my general manager interrogated the student for an hour before dismissing her. As an added terrible bonus, I got to watch her cry streams of tears as she tried in the end to apologize and plead to stay.
When I looked up into her face, I felt as helpless as she did. I didn’t want this to happen in the first place, and I didn’t want this to be the outcome. I don’t think my GM wanted this either, but her hands were tied. She had dismissed a staff the previous month for the same offence.
As my HR director tried to gently coax the student out of the office, I could help but wonder if the situation would suck less if the student were one of the lower-performing ones instead of one of the best. I felt the sort heartache of betrayal, not that the now-ex-student had betrayed me, but the sort of cosmic betrayal that allows unnecessarily stupid and hurtful things to happen.
In spite of that feeling, and also feeling like I needed to cry and like I had been slapped in the face, I still had the responsibility to explain to the remaining students why this girl was dismissed. I tried to press on them the importance of respect; to respect others and their property, but more importantly to respect yourself and to make decisions like an adult.
Months or years later, I may look back on this as an important managerial experience or a good story to tell for an interview. Right now, my only feeling on the situation is that it sucks. I just had to kick out a student whose mother died in childbirth and whose father dumped her with his mother-in-law; a student who hadn’t made a mistake at school prior to this one; a student that I would describe as quiet but exceptionally friendly and helpful.
In spite of knowing that none of this is my fault, I can’t shake the feeling that I contributed to the overall suckiness of the situation. I also feel a great desire to set everything back in time and reverse what has been done, but I know that can’t happen. And knowing that I can’t change it sucks most of all.
I am going to take a long weekend and see a new city. Some friends said there was a circus there. I plan on returning on Monday and remembering that I love my job, even if not everything about it is lovely.
As the School Director, I got to sit in on the meeting where my general manager interrogated the student for an hour before dismissing her. As an added terrible bonus, I got to watch her cry streams of tears as she tried in the end to apologize and plead to stay.
When I looked up into her face, I felt as helpless as she did. I didn’t want this to happen in the first place, and I didn’t want this to be the outcome. I don’t think my GM wanted this either, but her hands were tied. She had dismissed a staff the previous month for the same offence.
As my HR director tried to gently coax the student out of the office, I could help but wonder if the situation would suck less if the student were one of the lower-performing ones instead of one of the best. I felt the sort heartache of betrayal, not that the now-ex-student had betrayed me, but the sort of cosmic betrayal that allows unnecessarily stupid and hurtful things to happen.
In spite of that feeling, and also feeling like I needed to cry and like I had been slapped in the face, I still had the responsibility to explain to the remaining students why this girl was dismissed. I tried to press on them the importance of respect; to respect others and their property, but more importantly to respect yourself and to make decisions like an adult.
Months or years later, I may look back on this as an important managerial experience or a good story to tell for an interview. Right now, my only feeling on the situation is that it sucks. I just had to kick out a student whose mother died in childbirth and whose father dumped her with his mother-in-law; a student who hadn’t made a mistake at school prior to this one; a student that I would describe as quiet but exceptionally friendly and helpful.
In spite of knowing that none of this is my fault, I can’t shake the feeling that I contributed to the overall suckiness of the situation. I also feel a great desire to set everything back in time and reverse what has been done, but I know that can’t happen. And knowing that I can’t change it sucks most of all.
I am going to take a long weekend and see a new city. Some friends said there was a circus there. I plan on returning on Monday and remembering that I love my job, even if not everything about it is lovely.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
One day
I have just had one of the most interesting days, but it does not conform well to a single story or journal entry. I am bound to forget it all if I do not write it down. Here is a chronological listing without detailed explanation.
-Woke up and tried to figure how many minutes it would be before the alarm went off.
-Showered.
-Took out the garbage.
-Bicycled to work.
-Watched my students suffer through an English exam, while they tried and failed to discreetly cheat off each other.
-Wrote two e-mails to some Italians.
-Listened to the department heads of the hotel talk about Cambodian food and karaoke for 10 minutes.
-Ate some scrambled eggs and a croissant with brie. Drank a glass of fresh orange juice.
-Gave some weak platitudes to comfort my general manager, who found out, via phone text, that her dog just died.
-Met an attractive Khmer woman from an organization that specializes in reducing dangers to children, specifically for street children and victims of trafficking. Set up a time for the organization to provide training to the staff to make sure that the hotel is aware of how to act in the face of child abuse.
-Drank a glass of water.
-Walked to the nearby children’s hospital.
-Saw dozens of sick children, mostly waiting in the lobbies and hallways.
-Sat on a bench.
-Filled out a form that says I do not share needles or engage in risky sex.
-A doctor poked me with a needle attached to a bag.
-Donated some blood.
-Received a free hospital t-shirt, some crackers, and a coke.
-Met a young German medical student on a month of practical learning.
-Posed for some photographs.
-Resumed work.
-Stopped working to meet a young Dutch woman who found me on the Couchsurfing website, but neglected to e-mail me to tell me she might stop by.
-Carried out a nice conversation and exchanged contact information to meet again at a later time.
-Met some Canadians who were donating a house to our village projects.
-Ate lunch, which included my favorite Khmer soup – the one with pickled lime and chicken.
-Wrote some e-mails to set-up a meeting on Monday.
-Ordered two bags of rice for a village visit.
-Ordered five bicycles for a different village visit.
-Organized my team to practice games for a staff party.
-Watched my teammates try to dance in traditional Khmer-style.
-Tried on some second-hand women’s clothing in preparation for a drag contest.
-Had two very attractive women from the spa apply make-up, something which had not happened since I was in a musical performance of Annie in the fourth grade.
-Was amazed to see the effects that foundation has on hiding the roughness of skin.
-Was taken aback by seen myself with mascara for the first time.
-Was bored.
-Was reaffirmed in the belief that women waste far too much time making themselves up every day, and yet more appreciative of the fact that they do
-Tried on high heels for the first time since I was dressed up like a girl at my grandmother’s house by my sisters and cousin.
-Was told by four guys that “girls walk like this”, where “this” was their demonstration.
-Washed off the make-up.
-Accidentally put soap in my eyes trying to get off the eyeliner.
-Looked in the mirror a fifth time to confirm that my face had indeed reverted from the drag-queen appearance.
-Met with my low-performing students.
-Told a young woman that if she didn’t improve her effort and performance that I would drop her from the program.
-Met with a rural teacher.
-Talked about buying student uniform and ways to keep track of supplies in a school that has no doors and palm leaves for walls.
-Met with some Americans who live in London and were joining the village visit the following day.
-Ordered some school supplies.
-Started writing this post.
-Looked around facebook and livejournal.
-Met a young man from Malaysia whom I had been in contact through Couchsurfing and treated him to dinner.
-Ate some fried ice cream.
Now I am ready to go to bed, but I am the manager-on-duty for the evening, so I will be here until 10 o’clock, waiting and hoping that nothing goes wrong. Tomorrow, a new day approaches. I can only anticipate it will also be interesting and exciting, but I do not anticipate that I will write another entry exactly like this one.
- Finished this post.
-Woke up and tried to figure how many minutes it would be before the alarm went off.
-Showered.
-Took out the garbage.
-Bicycled to work.
-Watched my students suffer through an English exam, while they tried and failed to discreetly cheat off each other.
-Wrote two e-mails to some Italians.
-Listened to the department heads of the hotel talk about Cambodian food and karaoke for 10 minutes.
-Ate some scrambled eggs and a croissant with brie. Drank a glass of fresh orange juice.
-Gave some weak platitudes to comfort my general manager, who found out, via phone text, that her dog just died.
-Met an attractive Khmer woman from an organization that specializes in reducing dangers to children, specifically for street children and victims of trafficking. Set up a time for the organization to provide training to the staff to make sure that the hotel is aware of how to act in the face of child abuse.
-Drank a glass of water.
-Walked to the nearby children’s hospital.
-Saw dozens of sick children, mostly waiting in the lobbies and hallways.
-Sat on a bench.
-Filled out a form that says I do not share needles or engage in risky sex.
-A doctor poked me with a needle attached to a bag.
-Donated some blood.
-Received a free hospital t-shirt, some crackers, and a coke.
-Met a young German medical student on a month of practical learning.
-Posed for some photographs.
-Resumed work.
-Stopped working to meet a young Dutch woman who found me on the Couchsurfing website, but neglected to e-mail me to tell me she might stop by.
-Carried out a nice conversation and exchanged contact information to meet again at a later time.
-Met some Canadians who were donating a house to our village projects.
-Ate lunch, which included my favorite Khmer soup – the one with pickled lime and chicken.
-Wrote some e-mails to set-up a meeting on Monday.
-Ordered two bags of rice for a village visit.
-Ordered five bicycles for a different village visit.
-Organized my team to practice games for a staff party.
-Watched my teammates try to dance in traditional Khmer-style.
-Tried on some second-hand women’s clothing in preparation for a drag contest.
-Had two very attractive women from the spa apply make-up, something which had not happened since I was in a musical performance of Annie in the fourth grade.
-Was amazed to see the effects that foundation has on hiding the roughness of skin.
-Was taken aback by seen myself with mascara for the first time.
-Was bored.
-Was reaffirmed in the belief that women waste far too much time making themselves up every day, and yet more appreciative of the fact that they do
-Tried on high heels for the first time since I was dressed up like a girl at my grandmother’s house by my sisters and cousin.
-Was told by four guys that “girls walk like this”, where “this” was their demonstration.
-Washed off the make-up.
-Accidentally put soap in my eyes trying to get off the eyeliner.
-Looked in the mirror a fifth time to confirm that my face had indeed reverted from the drag-queen appearance.
-Met with my low-performing students.
-Told a young woman that if she didn’t improve her effort and performance that I would drop her from the program.
-Met with a rural teacher.
-Talked about buying student uniform and ways to keep track of supplies in a school that has no doors and palm leaves for walls.
-Met with some Americans who live in London and were joining the village visit the following day.
-Ordered some school supplies.
-Started writing this post.
-Looked around facebook and livejournal.
-Met a young man from Malaysia whom I had been in contact through Couchsurfing and treated him to dinner.
-Ate some fried ice cream.
Now I am ready to go to bed, but I am the manager-on-duty for the evening, so I will be here until 10 o’clock, waiting and hoping that nothing goes wrong. Tomorrow, a new day approaches. I can only anticipate it will also be interesting and exciting, but I do not anticipate that I will write another entry exactly like this one.
- Finished this post.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Throwing Down/Up
Prior to this recent stint in SE Asia, I have had the opportunity to experience food poisoning once. Since July of last year, I have repeated the experience three times, most recently on Sunday. In spite of eating a wide variety of foods – water beetles, cow hooves, and fermented fish to name a few– each time I have been poisoned the culprit came from a Western restaurant (I also became mildly sick on my own preparation of macaroni and cheese).
I am not sure if this because my stomach has become accustomed to very spicy foods cooked in lime juice and has forgotten how to digest foods like salads, or maybe this is some sort of cosmic retribution for preferring Asian foods to Western foods. Regardless of the etiology, I wanted to share something that has never happened to me before with an illness: This food poisoning had a gender.
I am not sure how an illness can have a gender. In this case, it was female. Perhaps, I was simply associating the severe stomach cramps with the waitress that I was hitting on earlier in the evening. Conversation was actually going quite well up until the point when this anthropomorphized queasiness set in. I was still able to get the waitress’ name, address, whether she was single, and the next time she was working before I needed to head back to my home and spend some time with my porcelain loveseat.
I tried to sleep the pain off, but that wasn’t much of a solution. Around 1 o’clock in the night, I remember distinctly thinking that there was a small woman kicking from the inside of my stomach. Around 1:30, I recall that the mental imagine of a female kick-boxer also included screaming. I finally verbalized the gender persona around 2:30, while I was clutching the toilet seat, saying to no one in particular, “Get the f**k out, you f**king bitch!” a few seconds before gagging myself with my index and middle fingers.
Sure enough, the bitch left. Granted, it took about four or five times, but sometime things like this take time to break off.
------
In happier news, I will be returning to the United States on May 29th. I think I will stop in the Bay Area for a few days in transit, before heading to Seattle, but I need to figure a few things out first, like who will actually be there when I am. In January, both my sisters were living there. By May, I doubt either will be.
Then it will be onto Seattle, where I intended to live it up like a kid on summer vacation for four weeks. Except unlike a kid on summer vacation, I can drink legally, I am not going to camp, and I will probably do my summer reading. However, like a kid on summer vacation, I will be staying at my parents’ house and complaining about how the summer weather isn’t ideal enough.
I am not sure if this because my stomach has become accustomed to very spicy foods cooked in lime juice and has forgotten how to digest foods like salads, or maybe this is some sort of cosmic retribution for preferring Asian foods to Western foods. Regardless of the etiology, I wanted to share something that has never happened to me before with an illness: This food poisoning had a gender.
I am not sure how an illness can have a gender. In this case, it was female. Perhaps, I was simply associating the severe stomach cramps with the waitress that I was hitting on earlier in the evening. Conversation was actually going quite well up until the point when this anthropomorphized queasiness set in. I was still able to get the waitress’ name, address, whether she was single, and the next time she was working before I needed to head back to my home and spend some time with my porcelain loveseat.
I tried to sleep the pain off, but that wasn’t much of a solution. Around 1 o’clock in the night, I remember distinctly thinking that there was a small woman kicking from the inside of my stomach. Around 1:30, I recall that the mental imagine of a female kick-boxer also included screaming. I finally verbalized the gender persona around 2:30, while I was clutching the toilet seat, saying to no one in particular, “Get the f**k out, you f**king bitch!” a few seconds before gagging myself with my index and middle fingers.
Sure enough, the bitch left. Granted, it took about four or five times, but sometime things like this take time to break off.
------
In happier news, I will be returning to the United States on May 29th. I think I will stop in the Bay Area for a few days in transit, before heading to Seattle, but I need to figure a few things out first, like who will actually be there when I am. In January, both my sisters were living there. By May, I doubt either will be.
Then it will be onto Seattle, where I intended to live it up like a kid on summer vacation for four weeks. Except unlike a kid on summer vacation, I can drink legally, I am not going to camp, and I will probably do my summer reading. However, like a kid on summer vacation, I will be staying at my parents’ house and complaining about how the summer weather isn’t ideal enough.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Keeping house
Prices in developing countries can be cheap, shockingly cheap sometimes. Meals in Cambodia can cost a dollar, my 70 channels of cable costs 5 dollars a month, and photo-copied books cost 4 dollars. The child hawkers tell me I can buy postcards and bracelets for a dollar too.
However, Cambodia is not a powerful manufacturing country, so imported goods cost the same as back home, possibly more. That covers things like a washing machine, a good computer, or a cell phone. I was thinking about a new computer, but I figure that it is better to wait until I get back to the States and get the purchase with a warrantee.
Where Cambodian prices are sure to impress is in labor. Anything involving a high degree of man-power will be fairly cheap here. A haircut cost from 50 cents to 3 dollars, a private driver and car cost about $30 per day, and a foot massage will cost you five. The reason I mention all this is because it was recently suggested to me to hire a cleaner.
I have never been a fan of cleaning. I believe I am like most people in that I wait until the mess becomes intolerable and then I break out into cleaning mode. I am not a pro-active, maintenance cleaner.
On average, I clean about three rooms every month, alternating between my bedroom, bathroom, foyer/living room, kitchen, and upstairs. Lately, I have been ignoring the unoccupied upstairs to the point where it has accumulated an astonishing amount of dust. There is enough dust on the floor to make the dust equivalent of snow angels.
After my trip to Singapore, I have thought it would be fun to open this unoccupied third floor to passing travelers and backpackers. This is providing, of course, that I clean up the dust. The problem that arises is that I don't want to spend the time cleaning up.
Nonetheless, I don't really like the idea of someone else cleaning up after me. It all seems like a slippery slope to complacency, laziness, and elitism. It is common for wealth expatriates to hire cleaners, and I am fearful that hiring a housekeeper will cement me into that role.
As time passes, the economic justifications will shrink. The value of my time already seems quite high, and I anticipate it will rise. The monetary cost to hire someone to clean once or twice a month would probably be about $20, so it is already quite nominal.
The bigger hurdle to overcome is the ethical debate. When is it justified to have someone else clean up after you, when you are capable yourself (I am not talking about the already unpaid and unthanked work of mothers and significant others)? Are you doing someone a good-turn by providing them with a job or lowering their self-worth? Does hiring a housekeeper perpetuate the belief that Westerns are lazy and frivolously wealthy? Will my Khmer friends and co-workers think less of me? Will I think less of myself?
I would be interested to know what people think on the idea. I know only a few people who have cleaners/housekeepers. My initial idea was just to move to a smaller house with fewer rooms to clean (I don’t pay rent, so a less expensive place isn’t my concern). The problem with that idea is that moving is even less enjoyable than cleaning.
However, Cambodia is not a powerful manufacturing country, so imported goods cost the same as back home, possibly more. That covers things like a washing machine, a good computer, or a cell phone. I was thinking about a new computer, but I figure that it is better to wait until I get back to the States and get the purchase with a warrantee.
Where Cambodian prices are sure to impress is in labor. Anything involving a high degree of man-power will be fairly cheap here. A haircut cost from 50 cents to 3 dollars, a private driver and car cost about $30 per day, and a foot massage will cost you five. The reason I mention all this is because it was recently suggested to me to hire a cleaner.
I have never been a fan of cleaning. I believe I am like most people in that I wait until the mess becomes intolerable and then I break out into cleaning mode. I am not a pro-active, maintenance cleaner.
On average, I clean about three rooms every month, alternating between my bedroom, bathroom, foyer/living room, kitchen, and upstairs. Lately, I have been ignoring the unoccupied upstairs to the point where it has accumulated an astonishing amount of dust. There is enough dust on the floor to make the dust equivalent of snow angels.
After my trip to Singapore, I have thought it would be fun to open this unoccupied third floor to passing travelers and backpackers. This is providing, of course, that I clean up the dust. The problem that arises is that I don't want to spend the time cleaning up.
Nonetheless, I don't really like the idea of someone else cleaning up after me. It all seems like a slippery slope to complacency, laziness, and elitism. It is common for wealth expatriates to hire cleaners, and I am fearful that hiring a housekeeper will cement me into that role.
As time passes, the economic justifications will shrink. The value of my time already seems quite high, and I anticipate it will rise. The monetary cost to hire someone to clean once or twice a month would probably be about $20, so it is already quite nominal.
The bigger hurdle to overcome is the ethical debate. When is it justified to have someone else clean up after you, when you are capable yourself (I am not talking about the already unpaid and unthanked work of mothers and significant others)? Are you doing someone a good-turn by providing them with a job or lowering their self-worth? Does hiring a housekeeper perpetuate the belief that Westerns are lazy and frivolously wealthy? Will my Khmer friends and co-workers think less of me? Will I think less of myself?
I would be interested to know what people think on the idea. I know only a few people who have cleaners/housekeepers. My initial idea was just to move to a smaller house with fewer rooms to clean (I don’t pay rent, so a less expensive place isn’t my concern). The problem with that idea is that moving is even less enjoyable than cleaning.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Vacation: Part 2
I made a quick decision and purchased a ticket to Singapore. My intention was to meet up with my sister, who stated that she would be passing through for a few days as part of her world tour. Unfortunately, prior travel plans delayed my departure date and I ended up missing her by a day and a half. (I also missed the arrival of a friend I really wanted to see by a day.)
This left me with two day of pure tourism to explore the city of Singapore. With a few hours before my departure, I can say that this city mesmerizes and infuriates me simultaneous.
The city is quite stunning in all aspects. In my two days, I experienced cultured theater, diverse ethnic foods, breathtaking architecture and city planning, and stunning wildlife. Of all the cities I have been to in SE Asia, I can say without doubt that Singapore is the most developed, cultured, and diverse.
Nonetheless, Singapore gives me a feeling of covetousness and jealousy. This feeling does not come from a desire to live here. Although, I think it would be a very easy city to live in. What infuriates me is that Singapore has it made in every way.
Singapore has made it, while the rest of the world is sitting in second gear. The city is proof that good governance, investment in education, and fostering good economics works in the long-run. By no means is Singapore perfect. By many measures, I am sure that it ranks lower than it should, but in the ways that count the most they have succeeded. Primarily, they have succeeded in giving each of its citizens the opportunity to grow as an individual and achieve their personal dreams.
The rest of SE Asia has achieved this only to a partial degree. In the case of Cambodia, the country has barely begun. In Cambodia, only the luckiest are able to rise by their merit and hard-work. The majority of adults must be satisfied by the hope that their children will have a better life and opportunity than they did.
However, on reflection, it is not Singapore's success that infuriates me, but the rest of the region's inability to achieve it as well. Singapore caught up with "Western world" in about 50 years, which means that Cambodia has at least 50 more years to go. Half a century seems like a long time, and I question whether I can maintain a positive outlook on development if the path is so long.
What I will take from my brief time is Singapore is not despair but renewed hope. Singapore is an oasis of development and achieved dreams in a world full of slow change. For a few days, I had the opportunity to eat in nice restaurants and enjoy museums without second thought. I reunited with a past friend and met a new one. I walked along pristine sidewalks and alongside buildings that reached into the sky. I passed luxury sports cars and never had to wonder how much the owner of the car had stolen from public coffers. For 60 hours, I did not see a single beggar, a single child out of school, nor even a stray, sickly dog.
What I am left with is a thought, "If Singapore can achieve it, why not Cambodia?"
This left me with two day of pure tourism to explore the city of Singapore. With a few hours before my departure, I can say that this city mesmerizes and infuriates me simultaneous.
The city is quite stunning in all aspects. In my two days, I experienced cultured theater, diverse ethnic foods, breathtaking architecture and city planning, and stunning wildlife. Of all the cities I have been to in SE Asia, I can say without doubt that Singapore is the most developed, cultured, and diverse.
Nonetheless, Singapore gives me a feeling of covetousness and jealousy. This feeling does not come from a desire to live here. Although, I think it would be a very easy city to live in. What infuriates me is that Singapore has it made in every way.
Singapore has made it, while the rest of the world is sitting in second gear. The city is proof that good governance, investment in education, and fostering good economics works in the long-run. By no means is Singapore perfect. By many measures, I am sure that it ranks lower than it should, but in the ways that count the most they have succeeded. Primarily, they have succeeded in giving each of its citizens the opportunity to grow as an individual and achieve their personal dreams.
The rest of SE Asia has achieved this only to a partial degree. In the case of Cambodia, the country has barely begun. In Cambodia, only the luckiest are able to rise by their merit and hard-work. The majority of adults must be satisfied by the hope that their children will have a better life and opportunity than they did.
However, on reflection, it is not Singapore's success that infuriates me, but the rest of the region's inability to achieve it as well. Singapore caught up with "Western world" in about 50 years, which means that Cambodia has at least 50 more years to go. Half a century seems like a long time, and I question whether I can maintain a positive outlook on development if the path is so long.
What I will take from my brief time is Singapore is not despair but renewed hope. Singapore is an oasis of development and achieved dreams in a world full of slow change. For a few days, I had the opportunity to eat in nice restaurants and enjoy museums without second thought. I reunited with a past friend and met a new one. I walked along pristine sidewalks and alongside buildings that reached into the sky. I passed luxury sports cars and never had to wonder how much the owner of the car had stolen from public coffers. For 60 hours, I did not see a single beggar, a single child out of school, nor even a stray, sickly dog.
What I am left with is a thought, "If Singapore can achieve it, why not Cambodia?"
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