Monday, December 20, 2010

Christmas in Cambodia

Finally we’re having some cool weather here to ring in the season. Cooler meaning maybe low-80s. I even broke out a sweater the other day! I’m spending Christmas day here in my village so I can go to a big (non-Christmas-related) party my family is having. So far my celebrations this year have been limited to listening to some very cheesy holiday music (what, so I had a big crush on Donny Osmond as a kid because he was the voice of Joseph in the recording of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat I listened to and memorized after it was the first musical I ever saw, and his holiday album just happens to be one of the few I have on my computer) and enjoying treats and decorations from a care package from home (Thanks Mom and Grandma!). I have this tree that cracks me up every time I see it, but just why might take a little ‘splaining...my family is awesome is all. Here’s my little personal holiday display.


Anyway, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Time for a shameless plug... A couple people have asked if they can financially support what I’m doing here. Well, not so much directly, but there are plenty of ways to get involved in international development. If you’re still looking for last-minute gifts and have world-exploring/charitably-minded friends, donations are about as easy as they get. A lot of organizations will even give you something you can print out for/email to the recipient. BUT, although it can feel great to give to anything, it’s good to put some thought into your giving. There have been billions of dollars worth of aid poured into the developing world. Arguably, much of it has done more harm than good by making communities reliant on aid without providing any long-term solutions to problems, e.g. giving away mosquito nets that are then sold for less than they are worth, providing incentives for parents to sell and/or exploit their children to be the recipients of aid, or gifting supplies to a school or health center that quickly disappear to the homes of higher-ups. Unfortunately, (I read this in a study once though I can’t remember where) people who donate to charity are much more likely to give money to a specific individual or to buy a specific item. Think of the organizations that send you a personalized profile of the child you support. Those tactics are much more successful than an appeal for aid to a community of 4,000 people. Now, emergency aid is quite different, but in the long term, giving things to people doesn’t accomplish a whole lot.

From random reading of my own and seeing some aid work here, I have three ideas about what can potentially work in aid to developing countries:

1. Education. A couple much-discussed studies found that every additional year of secondary education a girl received substantially raised her age of first child bearing and lowered the number of children she would have (see here, this is fascinating stuff). Certainly not least, educated citizens are more likely to be able to effectively recognize and object to things gone wrong in their societies (notably corruption, which is a huge drain on almost all if not all developing countries). Education can also be outside of the formal education system, for example simple health education about hygiene or birth control. On a personal note, I can already tell you of more than a handful of people I know here who didn’t get picked for one of the few-and-far between scholarships they would have done well by. Sometimes these people are the most heartbreaking for me, since they saw a potential future for themselves beyond what their parents have but are often stuck following in their footsteps.

2. Women’s empowerment. See the first bit above. Also, aid provided to women is much more likely to be put to use to improve their communities, since women are usually the ones walking long distances to get water or raising their children without access to good education. Men in developing countries are often – though of course this is a gross overgeneralization – more likely to spend expendable income on themselves, frequently in forms like beer or buying sex services. Often violence against women is rampant in developing countries too, but you can’t give away freedom from domestic violence or sexual assault. Women need to be able to get themselves out of these situations.

3. Microfinance. This is the lending (not giving) of small amounts of money to people who might otherwise not be able to get cash for small business or self-improvement projects. Often, the loans are given to groups of people in a community, especially groups of women, because social pressure to repay the loans means low rates of default. Many microfinance institutions have incredibly good rates of repayment and are financially viable businesses. There are potential drawbacks to microfinance, for example this recent article about microfinance-related suicides. But combined with two areas above, it is a substantial way to allow people to make a difference in their own lives in the ways they want and need. In the end, aid is a drop in the bucket compared to the possibilities of the free market.

With the number of nonprofits out there today, it’s easy to find one doing work that jives with your interests and doing it well (check out www.charitynavigator.org to search through and see financials-based ratings of different organizations). A few I can think of that jive with my own thoughts above or that have well-thought-out strategies towards development are The Acumen Fund (microfinance focused on fueling enterprise to benefit the communities they serve) , The Huger Project (women’s empowerment with targeted initiatives in different countries), and Kiva (microfinance that is fun for gift giving, since your investment can be ‘tracked’ and re-applied after loan repayment).

Two Famous Things

Cambodia is famous for two things: Angkor Wat and the Khmer Rouge. I’ve been in Cambodia for five months now. Angkor Wat is everywhere – on the flag, on the most popular beer, and in a surprisingly large number of the examples my students use in English class (Yesterday...Dara went to Angkor Wat. Next year...Sopha will go to Angkor Wat. I have never...been to Angkor Wat). The Khmer Rouge arguably has a much more pervasive influence on 2010 Cambodia, but I’ve talked about it probably less than 10 times since I’ve been here. I’ve never had someone ask me if I ‘sgoal’ (know about/recognize) Angkor Wat – it’s presumably universal knowledge – but I’ve been asked several times if I know about Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. This is striking to me, since everyone over the age of 40 has memories of the Khmer Rouge era (1975-1979), and everyone over 30 or so lived through the very tumultuous times in the following decade.

My language isn’t really at a point yet where I can effectively understand people’s memories about the Khmer Rouge, so my conversations about it have been limited. It’s easy to forget what people have been through, because Cambodian people are very happy, at least outwardly, if not always actually. They place a lot of value on not losing face, and getting angry or upset in public would be doing just that.

What I’m getting at – the other day one of the lower-secondary English teachers at my school came over to try and chat. Because of his language level, our conversations are limited mostly to “How are you?” and “What class will you teach?” I was also talking to two teachers who speak better English (lower-secondary teachers make about 65 cents an hour, so the better English speakers teach other subjects in public high school and English in private schools). They were teasing him a little for trying to talk to me, but then they seemed to feel bad. He and his family are very poor, and the other teachers at my school have told me they pity him. Suddenly, one turned to me and asked if I knew about Pol Pot. Yes, yes of course I do. Well, this teacher, they wanted to tell me, had lived in a refugee camp. They explained about the refugee camps on the Thai border (assuming I didn’t know) and said he’d lived there for a few years. 15 years, he said. He answered them in Khmer that I could understand better than his English. He grew up there, and his family waited a long time for their turn to be relocated to America. Their chance never came, and eventually they came back to Cambodia, where he now struggles to make a living to support his five children. It was a quick reminder to me that there is more to many of my acquaintances than I know, and that, while I ‘sgoal’ the words Pol Pot and Khmer Rouge, I probably don’t begin to understand the toll it has had on the people who are around me every day.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Cutting Rice



I know the Northeast US is starting to get socked in with snow, but around here, it's rice harvest time. Cambodia is chock-a-block full of rice fields, and about two weeks ago, they all turned from bright green to straw-colored in about the same day. Now the entire country is going about the business of harvesting the rice by hand. The other day I asked a few of my students who had invited me to their village if they could show me how. It wouldn't be for those who don't like to get their feet dirty (literally, I was shoeless in mud up to my ankles), but I had a blast.

Khmanglish of the Week

(From a clothing tag)

Certificate of inspetion
SLLM FET
MADE BY BERllUCCi

THE clothes have been carefully Tailored by craftsmen to combine elegance of cut with Comfort and quality. A classis statement for a modem life.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Guest Post: Letter from Sam Orn

(*Note: Sam Orn is possibly my favorite student. Literally for the first three weeks of school, he was the only person whose name I knew. He wrote the letter below to send to my classroom in New York through the PC World Wise exchange program. I've edited it to make it more readable. If this doesn't make you smile, I don't know what will.)

Hello everybody! How are you? My name’s Tunn Sam Orn. I come from Cambodia. I’m a student at Hun Sen Taing Kork [High School]. I study [in] grade 11 “C”. I’m 18 years old and I have 7 brothers and sisters. In the future I want to be an engineer. Although I [want to be] an engineer, [I like studying English]. English language is my favorite language after my own and I like speaking with foreigner[s] although I can speak [only] a little or a bit, but I still try to speak with them. Furthermore, I’m so very happy that [we] have a foreigner [who] came from America. Her Name’s Cher Lin. She teaches students in my school and she is friendly with all the students and people in Cambodia [who] she [meets].

First, I want to tell you about my school. My school is in Taing Kork Village, Soyong Commune, Baray District, Kampong Thom Province in Cambodia. You know in my school there are seven [buildings]. One [building] is two floor[s]. In the second floor there is a good view because [it is] rich in trees in [the] school. In 2010 to 2011 there are 64 teachers and 1405 students, secondary and high school. All students in the school must wear a uniform when they come study. [The uniform is a white collared shirt with blue pants for boys and a blue skirt for girls.] If students [wear] a [different] color shirt, they would get [in trouble]. [In] one week they study 6 days except Thursday [they] study a half morning. In [...] one day they study two times: in the morning and the afternoon. In the morning all students start learning at 7:00 and finish at 11:00. [For] one hour they have a break. After [they] finish at 11:00 they go home and eat lunch, [they don’t] eat at school. In the afternoon, [they] start studying at 1:30 to 4:30, and they go home [and] eat dinner. But some students, they study extra school when they have free time. The subjects which they [study] are Math, Physics, English, Chemistry, and Biology. [At] 7:30 they come home and when [they] arrive at home some students teach themselves. Furthermore in my school there are 26 Red Cross students to help [if] some student [is] sick and [they] look after students. [The Red Cross students] wear a uniform that [is] different [from the other] students in school.

I hope you will write back to me because I want to know [about] there and about students in America, [student] activities, [and what the students do] when they [are] studying. If I know about something there, I would go to visit when I finish at University. I want to study there about English and I want to know about [the] view in America.

I wish you good health, good times, and success [in] all your studies and job.
Sincerely,

Tunn Sam Orn

Pictures! (My School)

My school is on the older side. One of the buildings was destroyed by bombings of Kampong Thom in the 80s and some of the others still show damage. But it's got a lot of charm.
1. The main high school building, grade 12 upstairs and grade 11 downstairs.
2. Some of my 10th-graders.
3. Another classroom building. All the schools I've seen in Cambodia are painted this yellow color.
4. Some 11th grade boys. Sam Orn, whose letter I'm posting above, is in the middle.
5. A cow on our school campus. They roam around along with the chickens.









A bowl of dessert

After being awake since 6am, reading and putzing around, eating my banana-and-peanut-butter breakfast in my princess tent, I finally ventured out of my mosquito net at 8:20am, grudgingly even though I had most of the morning off. This gave me about 25 minutes to dump cold water on my head and pull on a sampot before hopping on my bike and down to school.

I took up my usual place at the female teacher’s table under the big tree, saying hello to some of my coworkers. I looked through the lesson I thought we’d probably be teaching (I’ve given up trying to pin down things in advance) while they gossiped in Khmer. About 5 minutes before class was to start, I realized I hadn’t seen my co-teacher come out of the class where he should have been teaching the first hour. I ventured around to see if he was running late. A group of students approached: “Cher, uht kehrn crew Chart dtee.” Teacher, we haven’t seen Mr. Chart. Ah, so my co-teacher is sick, or at least absent. I should be disappointed, I know. This means of the 9 hours I should have taught yesterday and today, all of them are cancelled. A lot of those hours were for one teacher’s vacation, but also two for a school soccer game, then this. It’s not unusual. We’ve only been in school two months so far, but I haven’t yet had to work a whole week with all of my classes as scheduled. Rain, holidays, soccer, funerals, general unexcused teacher absences...well, there are a lot of reasons not to come to school.

So I didn’t actually do any of my real job for two days. But, as they liked to remind us during training, Peace Corps is a 24-hour gig. The most important thing I did today was eat some dessert. I went to the market on the thin pretense of buying a scrub brush for my laundry, knowing that if I wasn’t teaching, the best thing I could do with my time was just to hang out and chat. Usually the market affords ample opportunity to do that. Even though I knew roughly what section would have what I was “looking for,” I stopped and asked a few of the market ladies I’d previously chatted with where I could buy a clothes brush. As I made my way inside, one of my grade 11 students overheard and offered to take me to the stall herself. My scrub brush safely in my bag, she asked if I wanted to eat dessert. Now, it’s only 10:30 in the morning, but I’m never one to turn down some dessert if it’s part of my noble Peace Corps mission to reach out to the youth of this community.

I think we’re going to get some kind of nom, the ubiquitous Khmer word for practically any type of junk/snack food. Instead, she leads me to a stall just next to the meat section of the market. She pulls out a stool for me, and I sit with my back to some slabs of pork fat and a pig head laid out on a picnic tablecloth. I try to block out the smell of meat as she dishes me up a bowl of what turns out to be my favorite bong aim, shaved ice and chunks of chewy morsels covered in condensed milk and syrup. Even though she’s not one of the students I recognize as being a good English student in her class, I start asking her some of my stock questions to help her practice speaking a little. To my surprise, she’s anxious to speak English (the majority of students are too shy to answer even my simple questions) and blows me away with her complex answers. She has been holding back on me in class. I move beyond my basic “What time do you usually eat lunch?” and “How many brothers and sisters do you have?” to ask her about her family and the dessert stall they have at the market. Her parents make the sweets themselves early in the morning in their village, about one kilometer down the dirt road nearby. She helps them sell the desserts when she’s not busy with class, she tells me as she washes some bowls and uses a plastic bag tied to a stick to swat away some flies.

Soon enough the meat vendors at my back start asking her questions about me (in Khmer). Some of the women who are up on their gossip start to answer for me before I chime in and everyone realizes, excitedly, that I can understand them. I now have the rapt attention of all the shoppers and vendors within my field of vision as I answer their questions about my family, my salary, my marital status – the usual. I chat with them, and alternately in English with my student, for about 20 minutes before I need to be heading home to lunch. As I get out my wallet, my student motions to me to put it away. “I give you free teacher.” I hand her what I know is the usual cost for a bowl of bong aim and tell her thanks but I want to be able to come back and eat her dessert again. She gives me back 500 riel of the 1500 (about 37 cents) I gave her, shaking her head. “Thank you so much teacher.” I ask her why she is thanking me. “I’m so happy. I feel happy to talk with you teacher.”

As I walk home, I think to myself...it’s a good thing class was cancelled.