First of Many Thoughts Upon Returning...

There have been many times in the four months since I have been home where I have wanted to blog an update. Truthfully, the length of time that has passed has allowed my feelings and experiences to steep. I do not know if my thoughts about past, current and future states and implications of Cambodia are completely in harmony yet. In fact, I have come to understand one thought that may be consistent throughout my life.

That is one truth about humanity; the violence and pain that occurs in humanity is perhaps the deepest pain of circular and polar connection we will always feel between each other. What seems like a simple reality, really is the foundation which form the human experience. This, understanding and fear of pain and violence fact is catalyst for change in all forms. Whether progression or suppression, devolution or corruption, peace, war, love..We are all fearful humans, but the foundation of our fear is woven from the same internal parts.

My time home has evolved with difficulty and beauty. More to come...

Cambodia Grab Bag

I promised my sister that I'd post a picture of fried tarantulas, which are consumed here. People were wondering what kind of food is in Cambodia. I would like to say the food is unique, but it's not. There is a lot of Thai food and sticky rice. A classic Cambodian dish is, Amok. But let me leave you with these "free-range" tarantulas for $3.50 :)



Also, a happy "tuk-tuk" picture. A convenient way to get around Cambodia is by "tuk-tuk." A taxi-like carriage driven by a motorcycle. There are also "motos" which are scooters, but Tracy will murder us if we ride them.. something about danger...who knows.

WORTH of Women

It has been a while since my last post. I feel like the emotional toll here comes in waves. It is easy to feel frustrated about the situation in Cambodia as each NGO visit reinforces the information we previously learned. The other day our visit was surprisingly uplifting. We traveled to a province two hours away with an NGO called WORTH. Similar to the concept of micro lending, this NGO forms women’s groups within the poor villages so the women themselves can lend to others in the group. Usually the group will meet weekly and each of the members will deposit a predetermined amount and then decide who to lend money to. This unique approach to micro lending is important for a few reasons. Firstly, other micro lending programs have a good general concept, but the interest rate is typically too high for women to get ahead. Within the WORTH groups, the women agree upon an interest rate that is manageable. Secondly, gender issues are a top priority in Cambodia. Women are consistently discriminated against and abused. This program fosters women’s empowerment by providing them with the ability to start their own business with income of their own. Lastly, it allows them create a list of attainable goals to ultimately find success.

We sat in on two WORTH meetings in different villages. One group was just starting out and the second group had saved thousands of dollars. The first village we visited, an elderly women reached out and touched my skin. She had never seen a person with white skin before. She touched my face, then pointed to my freckles and looked at me in amazement. It is difficult to imagine how that woman must have felt. Undoubtedly, she experienced the Khmer Rouge and many aspects of life that I can not begin to comprehend, but for that second, she was enamored with me. She and I live completely different lives, yet for a moment, reality was more prominent than before.

In the second village, women were assertive and proud of the money they saved and the livelihoods they began. One woman was able to start a banana crop and sell dried bananas at the local market. Other women were able to get money for pigs and other livestock.

Observing the empowerment the WORTH program gave these women was inspirational. As a woman, witnessing the struggles women face across the world is frustrating, however the accomplishments these women were able to make in spite of the Cambodian culture serves as a catalyst of inspiration for all women.

Sweatshop City

Popularity is a simple concept. When we are young we learn the business of normalcy. Cultural norms, sub cultural norms, manners, and expectations. These concepts become deeply ingrained, yet as times change, some transform; Being Green, personal style, computer choice. In Seattle, the culture is vibrant. Progressive world views are a product of the educated and diverse University community and the always booming metropolis. Products of such progressiveness are concepts of fair trade, shopping local, and sweatshop free clothing. The awareness of these issues is extremely important as globalization has penetrated every aspect of our daily lives. While these concepts became popular for the human rights they violate, it is extremely difficult to move beyond concepts and facts of an issue such as sweatshops, to the reality of life.

Yesterday, we visited the NGO, Better Factories Cambodia. This NGO works to establish the accountability of factories regarding workers rights and factory conditions. They also trained factories on how to provide better working conditions for their employees. We often forget about the actual construction of a piece of our clothing. Most companies outsource because it costs drastically less in other countries. China, Cambodia, Taiwan, Thailand, India, Laos... the list goes on. Working standards are less in these countries so the corporation does not have to pay very much, which maximizes the profit for the corporation.
For the second half of yesterday we toured a sweatshop. The factory agreed to give us a tour and had complied with the standards of Better Factories Cambodia, therefore, it was considered a "good" factory. About 1050 employees worked in this particular factory. Thousands of women between the ages of 18 to 25 sat at the humming machines for lines after lines. However, most of the "women" did not look a day past 16. Each wore a different bandanna to distinguish their position. At the beginning of each machine line, hung the end product; yoga pants, a red bathing suit, and a pair of boxers. Each of the women barely glanced up to see the group of Americans taking pictures and walking slowly from line to line. The smell of machinery was intensified by the heat within the building. It was maybe 80 degrees, which was cooler than I expected. There was an infirmary room for when women pass out from dehydration. Feet away, locked up, was the water dispenser. The women also can use the infirmary to nurse their children for the one hour of nursing they are granted in a day. The working hours in this particular factory began at 7am and ended at 4pm. The only break they receive is one hour for lunch at 11. The manager of the factory was smiling at she proudly pointed out the different areas of her factory.

"We ask that you don't take photos in this room because the labels are on the clothes now."

Ah yes, we must protect the label from their loyal support of sweatshops. The prices on these labels were $40, $60, $80...How demeaning when the workers receive $40 per month for pay. Think about that - $40 per month is about $1.33 dollars per day. That's 16 cents an hour! This is the good factory.

Outside, hung signs from the corporations who outsource with this factory. Target read, "We do not support child labor...14 years of age or younger may not qualify to work."

As I took in what I was seeing, there was a second where I actually thought, "Well, this is not as bad as I expected." Now feel extremely guilty for that thought. As night fell, it hit me.

Even though the factory was considered a "good" factory, which adheres to the standards and rights of their workers, they really do not. As humans, it is really difficult for us to say someone is wrong when the picture they paint is seemingly convincing. The manger with her gleaming smile, the Chinese men patrolling the lines looking over the shoulders of the women sewing, the infirmary, the locked up water, and the prices on the clothes, all created a psychologically and systematically controlled environment. This same control is what saturates every sector of Cambodia. Even though there are standards and requirements to adhere to; the UN Declaration, the Land Law, Anti Trafficking Law, Workers Rights, Voting, and so on, the lack of accountability is the control. Nonexistence of justice is then a product of lack of accountability.

As the hundreds of NGOs are here to foster accountability, the process is lucid and broken. Lack of accountability is the real enslavement. Chained up water. Patrolled the aisles, tour groups... is all a game of psychological control.

Western Ideals Meet Cambodia

Visiting these NGOs has proven be to and exploration full of
difficulty. Again, the systematic problems that corrupt this society
are toxins seeping in from every hole. I find my self trying to avoid
a comparison between Western society and Cambodian society. It is
however, nearly impossible to truly absorb my experiences without
doing so. Without that comparison, I somehow down play the issues that
reside here today. As I think about my apartment in Seattle, my car,
my salary, my daily routines, I feel, sickeningly privileged. Of
course, I do lived a privileged life, even for an American, I have
always known that. It is however, the privileged lives we all live and
take for granted. Think about your daily routine. What are your
concerns and fears?

Walking through Dey Krahom, the village in threat of land-grabbing,
was perhaps one of the most moving experiences. Like many places we
visited as a group, I lagged behind, wanting to truly absorb the
moment. I stopped to take photos of children, naive to their
situation,they posed with smiles brighter than anything you have ever
seen before, with two fingers in the air singling peace. If they only
knew the true representation of those two fingers. The struggles of
their ancestors, the liberation from basic human rights, food
security, freedom from preventable diseases, or a chance to become
educated. I then watched the older generation, laying in their home.
Their home, in some cases consisted of four sticks, covered by a tarp,
about 4 feet long and 4 feet wide. A woman lay on her back while a
naked little boy linger outside the home crying. Meanwhile, I
photograph the children on the opposite side. They giggle and scream
as I count, "one...two...three," and capture their naive smiles. My
only gift is to show them the photo afterward. They giggle louder than
before, and point to their faces leaving smudges all over the screen
with oatmeal covered fingers. I then walk way. Just like that.
Outwardly casual, but if they only knew, every part of my body was
telling me to turn back and help in some way. I thought, I have many
gifts to give them; money, food, perhaps shelter, but in reality, it
does not contribute to the overall betterment of their lives.

Today, we visited a hospital for people with TB and HIV/AIDS. The
grounds reminded me of some sort of abandon military compound. Maybe
15 buildings completed the area. We parked at one of the last
building. "This is where the people come to get tested of
HIV/AIDS..They wait here for the results...Then they rehab in this
building," Adelle, the leader of 2 Seedlings of Hope pointed out. The
building that housed the rehabilitating HIV patients resembled a run
down school. The dirt covered tile floor crawled with ants. I walked
into the first large room with about 25 beds. In Cambodia, patients
are only given a bed frame. They must then provide their own food,
mattress or bed mat, and nurturing care. Therefore, most families also
live with their sick family member during rehabilitation. I approached
a bed where a mother sat and held her vibrant, smiling 1-year old son.
The boys smile however, barely masked the emaciated person laying in
the corner alone. I have never seen such starvation and sickness. We
moved on to the next rooms and the same scene persisted. Bathrooms, by
most American standards were nothing more than cement outhouses. It is
an unattainable obstacle for most sick individuals to reach these
distant latrines.

So much work still needs to be done here. Where does one even begin. It is easy for me to resort back to the concept that there are nearly no psychological services available in Cambodia. Culturally, the Khmer way is the only acceptable way of dealing with grief. This means never speaking about emotions and struggles. There must be a bridge between the Western idea or coping and the Khmer way, while still respecting the culture.

Repair

I have not had enough energy to update my blog within the past few
days. I was pretty exhausted from The Killing Fields and S21 on Friday
morning. I woke up at 4:15am and I could not fall back asleep. I do not
think the need to call your mother ever diminishes. A worthless
international cell phone did not give us very much time to talk, but
the knowledge that I was inspiring her with this blog is enough to
keep me blogging. Thursday was said to be our toughest day, but the
systematic mess that transpired from the heinous acts of genocide is
experienced each day. Cambodia is worn, broken down and corrupt from
the top to bottom, bottom to top, and every other avenue one could
propose.

Thursday night, I walked to the nearby temple, Wat Lanka, to
participate in their public meditation session. Given the difficult
day, this was a relaxing experience, but my friend Abe and I
unfortunately, only lasted about 20 minutes. Toward the front of the
temple was a giant Buddha surrounded by candles, incense and flowers.
Orange, gold, red, and yellow illuminated from within the temple as
night fell outside. The dichotomy of noise within the monastery was
dramatic compared to the horns and motos outside the walls. Despite my
inability to concentrate, I valued the silence to summate my emotions
from the day.

Our NGO round table discussions began on Saturday. We visited Khmer
Institute of Democracy, The Cambodian Trust, Mine Action Group, a teen
drop in center, talked with a Buddhist Zen Nun, and visited a village
whose homes are being stripped away from them by "land-grabbing."

Many are unaware of the incalculable damage the last years of the
Vietnam War caused Cambodia. The United States engaged in bombing
raids heavenly along the boarders and throughout the country. The US
bombs destroyed miles of countryside, making farming land useless.
This caused many people to fee to the capital city in the 1970s. When
the Khmer Rouge came into power, they forced the millions of people
back out to the countryside into working camps. 10 to 30% of all the
bombs the United State dropped however, did not go off upon impact.
This leaves death traps spread throughout the country. Pol Pot placed
millions of landmines throughout Cambodia. He called them the "perfect
solider" because they require no work. They just sit and wait for
victims. Currently, there are two victims each day from landmines or
US bombs.

The Mine Action group and The Cambodian Trust two NGOs working to
eradicate this problem. The Mine Action Group trains those in
vulnerable mine zones to extract the mines. This provides vulnerable
villages with work, safe land to raise livestock, and increases the
safety of the people within those villages. The Cambodian Trust seeks
out individuals with disabilities and either pays for their education,
or trains them on how to make prosthesis for landmine victims.



The Khmer Institute of Democracy is committed to exercising the rights
every person. They assist Cambodians in exercising their rights and
foster democratic values. The main focus of KID is to train, "Citizen
Advisers" to act as a resource for rural villages. The Citizen
Advisers teach villagers about their land rights, domestic violence,
and how to register for the tribunal. Individuals are currently
documenting the stories of survivors of the genocide to use in court.
Therefore, KID offers a resource for that documentation. They also
inform these individuals about how to register their land with the
government. This is becoming extremely important and as the issue of
"land-grabbing" is increasing. Essentially, international corporations
are coming into villages and kicking families out of their homes
because it is prime real estate. In many cases, the corporation will
come with security guards and weapons to intimidate people to leave.
Since most people live off of the land they own, this provides them no
livelihood in the end. Tracy told us a story of a security guard who
purposely dropped his cell phone on the ground and when a villager
picked his phone up, he was arrested for stealing. Since almost 80% of
villagers are illiterate, they have no way of knowing their land
rights. This is why KID seeks to educate through Citizen Advisers.
Other NGOs in the area are working on this issue as well.

Since I have written a lot, I will talk about the Zen Nun later. The
photos posted are pictures of the current village in Phnom Penh where
people have stood up against the "land-grabbers." So far 13 people
were taken to prison and 2 killed. These people are only withholding
their land rights. Also, photos of The Cambodian Trust and maybe some
other ones…

Humanity

What does one do when their world is transformed? We all have experiences in life that shape how we interact with others, our career choice, our health choices and our minute to minute choices. But what happens when all of that is irrelevant. We are all victims of our sub-conscious invading out conscious. Scenes of war, murder, natural disasters, social injustices, starvation and torture penetrate our minds each day. From my American perspective, this constant bombardment desensitizes us to a degree. It stratifies our ability to relate by dividing "us" and "them." Historically, all of these are facts of life. Throughout my education and experiences, stratification was deeply ingrained. We learn the facts; 200 people killed in Mumbi, 30% on welfare, Big Three going under. When we memorialize an event, we disrupt the site by placing a modern, air-conditioned building and inside on a plasma screen, play a 15 minute documentary repeating the facts. This is stratification to the furthest extent. Then, the family of four gets into their $45,000 SUV and say, "Who's hungry?" This is not an attack on a "well to do family," nor is it an attack on the general American population. It is merely recognizing that America’s good fortune is bittersweet. Therefore, for the vast majority of Americans are in desperate need of, for lack of a better term, a reality check. An encounter that forces is to unify our subconscious and conscious with the humanity of others.

Over the past few months, my emotions were seemingly unaffected by events or information that would have previously been stressful. With this internal struggle, I feared that I have somehow become hardened or lost my ability to relate. This fear was completely demolished today.
Unfortunately, the many are unaware of the genocide that occurred in Cambodia. The Khmer Rouge occupied Cambodia between 1975 and 1979. This communist regime wanted to create a pure society of "equality." Therefore, their mission was to exterminate all religious, educated, disabled, sick or rich individuals. During their occupation, they killed an estimated 3 million individuals. As I have presented you with the facts, let me fill in the blanks.

The Khmer Rouge had thousands of mass grave sites throughout Cambodia called "The Killing Fields." In their mission to eliminate education, a high school was taken over and turned into "S-21," a prison for torture and execution. Men, women and children lived out their last days in places like this.

Today, we visited both sites.
"The Killing Fields"

A field that looked as if it was attacked by dozens of bombs surrounded a pagoda which housed thousands of skulls in a 10 story glass case. Elephant grass divided small trails where it was considered acceptable to walk to each grave. Due to the harsh rain season in Cambodia, flattened bones and clothes of victims buried beneath have begun to surface through the dirt. At first, only small pieces of clothing and bones were visible. As the trial continued however, a partially exposed jacket, a jaw bone and teeth erupted from the earth. The pagoda in the center housed thousands more skulls, bones and clothes that were recovered. At the pagoda, two individuals sat at the base of the stairs that led up to the display and offered intense and flowers to pay respects to those who were murdered. I removed my shoes, walked barefoot up the marble steps and placed incense into a pot of sand and the flower into a neighboring pot filled with water. After about an hour of individual exploration we gathered to debrief.

"S-21"
A heaviness weighed on my chest as I stepped into S-21. What was once a place of intellectual liberation and joy for children and teenagers rang a deafening tone of desperation and death. Three buildings completed the prison. Scattered throughout the buildings were rooms of torture, stalls of enslavement and photographs of the victims. The first few rooms I walked into were silent with disparity. The simplicity of a large room with a single bed frame is far from its perception. Victims would be tortured to death on this single bed as the sun peered through the bars of the window. The upstairs were dozens of small stalls where victims were kept. These stalls were about 3 feet wide and 6 feet long. Above each wooden stall was a number identifying the individual inside. The yellow tile floor was stained with blood and a single chain strung from the corner of the stall. This scene was the same room after room. When I viewed the photographs of the victims is when my emotions erupted. Photographs of women, children, and men stood for rows after rows. I stood, gazing intently upon these photographs. The terror across their faces emitted through widened eyes and creased bows was consistent from mother #192, to child #65, to father #564. They were identified by only the numbers attached to their black uniforms, not by the child protected by the terrified arms of the mother or the distinctive eyes of victim #40.

This made me human in a completely different way. The concept of humanity is completely relevant. The views of a Buddhist monk, mother, father, lawyer, child, lover, political leader or priest, all have different views of humanity. Questioning humanity is a concept I have only seen on bumper stickers, not one I have seriously considered. If a person can look into the eye of a five year old child, pull an infant from the arms of a mother, or murder an individual pleading to be spared, all because the murderer will die if they refuse themselves, where is the line of humanity. If we can walk through an ultra modern historical exhibit, pollute our environment through carbon emissions, listen to the nightly news of the fact list suffrage, where is our humanity.
There must be that equal partnership between nurturing our conscious while allowing our subconscious to have a say. Our intuition therefore, could be our best friend, it we allow. It could be our avenue to peace.