Now that I’ve been home for over a week, I can feel the memories draining. I feel my body weighed by lack of sleep and lethargy from the shock of change. I feel agitated yet exhausted, yearning for social reconnections yet timid and recluse. I have one thing then want the other...I feel like Rum Tum Tugger.

My only regret is that I didn’t accomplish what I wanted to get done. I feel like I left something for my organization not worthy of what I’d want to leave. Why did I get caught up in the small details?

There were many positive surprises too It has been a challenge being home since I know that I have changed, but nothing here has. There is a dissonance which I’m going to have to accept as part of the experience, and I am preparing myself mentally for the ups and downs. For the first time ever I walked out of a class on my first day. Usually I give the class a chance before I decide whether or not to drop it. Health in the Developing world? Sounds perfect. However, this time I found the idea of wasting another semester doing what I already know to do and hearing touchy feely opinions from others (and myself) who really don’t know what they’re talking about a tad daunting. I was agitated and itching to leave, so I did. This is giving me the chance to choose courses with some solid facts to bite into; genetics, chem, and (maybe!) anatomy. I think my biggest fear is not knowing what to do next, so once I was off the plane I set a new plan for myself; graduate and take a semester to study for MCATs. I don’t want to find myself without a goal or path, because I feel terrified of being stuck in limbo. I thank Cambodia for my impatience and desire to get moving with my life.

This may sound cliché, but the biggest learning experience has come from my own awareness of my wealth. We all know that we are rich westerners, but not until we see that wealth laid beside someone unfortunate do we realize just what that wealth entails, and likewise the lack of wealth.

After coming home, I have had the chance to think about the things which I used to take for granted, and how absolutely spoiled I and most other young Canadians are.  I had to leave a Dollarama after hearing children begging for things they didn’t need, and parents caving to shut them up. So far, the only thing which I have bought for myself was toothpaste and a chocolate bar, having gone the course of the summer without a decent cocoa stimulant. I can’t stay more than 20 minutes in clothes stores. I can’t help but feel disgust at myself; I think back to the day I went on a shopping spree with Melissa in Siem Reap, and Narap followed us along, looking shell-shocked by our 3$ per item spending. That is more than a meal for 6 people in a Cambodian restaurant. Teachers get paid 28$ a month. Money is both absolute and relative.

It is hard to list the things that I’ve learned within the last three months. Some changes are just not tangible until you come across an experience with which you can compare. I have never had a boss like Stephan, but maybe I won’t know how important his leadership style is until I have a bad one.  Likewise, you don’t begin to know what true happiness is until you witness utter depravity. Everything is relative: my new catch phrase.

I’ve learned just how complex and fragile development work can be, and have seen firsthand how  the top-down approach of foreign aid does not work. While away I began reading the book “The White Man’s Burden” about the failure of the global north/ developed world/ westerners to solve the woes of world poverty over the last five decades. I used to believe this too... that giving away 10% of our income would solve the world’s problems.  Money was the solution. If that’s so, then why have trillions of dollars gone into development initiatives in the “Third World”, yet the progress hard to see?

 I believe that what I witnessed in Cambodia was the right way to do it. I have learned about holistic and community-based approaches in my environmental classes, but it was only a mere theory to me.  I saw progress even within my short stay, and had discussions with those positively affected by the changes.  I was fascinated to hear stories from my team on what made these projects successful or not, and I feel like I can apply this model to future jobs in development work. The bottom line that I learned is that it is not as simple as throwing money into a donation box; each nation, community, and individual has a situation that needs to have a unique approach. Projects need to be feasible to the situation (ie. Not having a text-based inoculation reminders in an illiterate community) and sustainable, so that the community may gain autonomy for their progress. Most of all, it is a slow, iterative, and risky process that needs to address all conditions, from education to agriculture. Change may be small, but it’s still change.

In spite of the magnitude of menial tasks that I conquered, I think what I learned most about on this trip was forgiveness.
Here I was working with people in Cambodia whose families were murdered or lives were shattered by the despicable actions of their comrades and neighbours.  There were people who I worked with who were on opposite sides of the last battle, shooting at each other, planting landmines, who now happen to be good friends. That takes more courage and strength that I think I could ever muster. In spite of my ability to resist forming grudges, I think that the severity of what my colleagues faced would be too much to forgive. However, I witnessed firsthand people acting cordial with red-handed ex-Khmer Rouge generals at community meetings; this, to me, is like having tea with a Nazi. However, people appear to be able to move on and heal rather than remaining embittered. People in Cambodia, from what I witnessed, want nothing but to move on. Perhaps this is why they can work along side ex-Khmer rouge leaders who have blood of babies on their hands. Cambodia faces so many struggles, that it seems almost a waste of energy to worry about hating.

In spite of the optimism, I worry that there remains a vulnerability to authority which enables the dilapidation of the state to occur, through corruption and fraudulent democracy.  Fear lingers, and obedience to authority is both a result of cultural tradition and learned behaviour.

Either way, in spite of their recent history, I can honestly say that violence does not appear to be in their nature. The only generalized comment I can make about Cambodian is that they are sincere in their kindness, and generous even when they appear not able to afford it. Maybe I, and every other Canadian, have something to learn from them.

Some things....

I’ve learned about a country that I never really thought of twice of before.
I feel a connection to a place I never even thought of visiting.

Africa has always been in my scope, but I have discovered a completely different world into which I never imagined myself being absorbed.

I have met so many amazing people and have been inspired to lead a certain life.

My mom pointed out that I’m the first person in my family to go to Asia. I think that’s pretty swell.

I think it’s too soon to know the effect this experience will have on me. Right now my brain is taking leaps ahead, trying to ensure that there will still be ground for me to walk on.

There is so much to take away from this experience, but I imagine I won’t realize the extent of its impact on my life now, but that it will emerge with new journeys and roads. I’m 21, and I’ve seen more than I would have ever thought. I have been to more countries than I have provinces.

This is my wealth, and I cherish it. I hope that it can be useful and not just a personal pleasure. I can no longer stand on the sidelines. Travel is in my blood, and I don’t think I’m done meeting the world.

Unfortunately the craziness of going home has revealed that I left my writing ability in Cambodia, and I have found it very difficult to stay focused with this task. It has been a week since I’ve been home, and I found the transition difficult in that I feel overwhelmed by the tasks ahead.

Tourism is such a complex an issue that it is hard to argue whether is it good or bad, since there are so many different versions of tourism. My experience in Kenya last year revealed an overwhelmingly positive view of tourism, where environmentally conscious eco-tourism was the lifeblood of the conservancies where I went. The political violence that occurred severely reduced tourism, which revealed the vulnerability of dependence on tourism of so many developing nations.  

It has taken me a long time to think about my role and presence in Cambodia, and I have finally decided that I could be classified as a part-time visitor as opposed to tourist. I wasn’t staying long enough to feel like I was living there, yet I was living their long enough to feel like I wasn’t a visitor. I made a home for myself, but that home and friendships made were fleeting. I only wish my Khmer was stronger because it would have made me feel less like an outsider.

I had the opportunity in Cambodia to be an outsider invited in, so I felt separate from the parade of tourists that you would occasionally see wandering around Battambang, or swamping  Siem Reap. During my weekend in Siem Reap I felt like a complete tourist, even heading to the Barang (meaning French/foreigner/white person) part of town. In this environment I felt fine doing such, but at the same time I felt a grandiose, being separate from and  above the masses. It felt colonial, which I experienced in Kenya, and I didn’t like it.

It was interesting how I made a conscious effort not to look like a tourist. I don’t know if this was because I felt that there was a negative connotation toward tourists.  Maybe tourism has changed recently, but the biggest thing I noticed was backpackers, aka young mid 20-somethings being cool and independent in South-East Asia. I did not see backpackers in Kenya like I did here, maybe because Thailand is a young person’s tourist hub of westernized locals and cheap alcohol. You could instantly tell the tourists as the girls who wore tank tops or halter tops, or men who refused to put their shirt on at temples, showing no respect to the local conservative dress code. I get frustrated when people don’t make the effort to be respectful; it would take two seconds for them to open up their Lonely Planet bible to the local customs.  The other intern (Melissa) visited Thailand for a week, and told me that she witnessed women going topless or more on the Thai beaches. She made some Thai friends, who made it known that no matter how western Thailand appears, this was not acceptable. I feel embarrassed that this lack of concern may label all Westerners as insolent and insensitive leeches.

One of my favourite games with my friends was making fun of tourists and backpackers. We played “Backpacker Bingo”, where we got points if the tourist had one or more of the following:

• A 20-something
• wifebeater tanktop (female)
• curly hair (male)
• bandana in hair (either)
• dreds
• very tanned
• backpack (this is the free space)
• wearing the things that they just bought in the market around the same market
• being rude and never making eye contact/conversation with anyone outside their travel  group

This game worked astonishingly well, and for the most part they fit the stereotype. We felt above them, separate from their class. The only conversations I had with westerners were with sweet American ladies and a crazy Australian professional Fairy.

The most disrespectful act of  tourism that I witnessed was performed by a few Italian women at the Angkor museum who demanded that their cappuccino be perfect, to the point where they were reaching over the counter to show the Cambodians how to do it. They left, making obvious signs of distaste and practically throwing the cups back at the servers. You don’t go to Cambodia for good cappuccinos, just like you don’t go to Italy for amazing Prohok (fermented fish paste). It is this type of disrespect that makes me furious and embarrassed to be a foreigner. I can only think of my mother’s words, warning me to be a good representative of my family when I visit others. (“Do you want them to think we raised you like that???”)

I think being a good or bad tourist depends on the demands you make of the locals and how you expect to be treated. I don’t know if it is just me who is defining the negative view of tourism here in South East Asia, because the outlook from most of the locals I met was extremely positive. Everyone is extremely friendly and open to outsiders, and eager to invite you into their lives., I made friendships with local people beyond a passing hello; my friend Bunthen, the monk, and the girls from Cold Night and Apsara’s, the restaurants where we frequented at least two times every day. I felt that this was the bridge from tourism to part-time visitor, and I hope that I can maintain these friendships.

The thing about Cambodia is that it is a rough way to live, so it is not a place for everyday tourists. Whenever we saw expats with babies, we would always be surprised. The heat, humidity, air, food, and potential for infection makes it a hard place to be. We realized that it tends to be the more hardened tourists who visit here on their way to or from Thailand. People don’t come to the middle of Cambodia for a  family vacay. For the most part it is a pitstop to check off their list. This is understandable, because there is nothing to attract the normal person to towns like Battambang. No beaches, just ugly statues and weird group aerobics in the park.  Angkor Wat is beautiful to see, but I don’t think I could handle Siem Reap for more than three days due to the constant pestering and panhandling. Most of all, I felt frustrated that many of these tourists were getting a postcard version of Cambodia, and that was all they wanted. Angkor Wat is beautiful without a doubt, but the feeling I got looking at the biggest religious structure in the world only gave me a fraction of the awe I felt when being welcomed into a local home and meeting the family or riding the river. For these reasons, I felt justified to enjoy our escapism in our quaint little town, where tourists are fleeting and Cambodian life is in full bloom.

These photos are from the 8 hour boat trip Penny and I took to Siem Reap on the river to the Tonle Sap. We sat down below, while the hardcore backpackers slow-roasted on the roof. This was absolutely one of my favourite experiences.

Goodbye, Battambang!













When you've gotta go....








A tiny old woman who sat at the front of the boat, who had no problem getting to the back to the coolest bunk bathroom ever!



Cute kids waving to the boat. The children along the Tonle Sap and river see this tourist boat everyday, and have since adapted some western characteristics, with slight modifications; they wave with both hands and blow big kisses.















BLOWING KISSES!





The "Floating Villages". I have never seen a place so isolated or impoverished. However, with the hard faces and distended bellies, it appeared full of smiles and simple pleasures.



Working in the rice fields
























































































A displaying lizard at our guest house in Siem Reap



The Angkor Museum in Siem Reap, where we opted to go instead of the temples. I got a great history lesson and loved the modern museum, so it was totally worth it.



After fumbling a Khmer fortunetelling practice with a woman from India, she showed me the Indian way to do it.
The forefinger pointing in and three fingers outwards has to do with the idea that what you do comes back in threes and how we are harsh with one another. When you point your finger at someone, you are pointing three at yourself.




Wicked gecko










Riding a water buffalo!!

This morning I was 99% recovered when we flew out to Hong Kong. I am very, very excited to see my family, who will be picking me up at 5 am on Friday. I hope I'll be able to sleep on my flight... I am feeling so exhausted now that there is a good chance I might.

I guess the next time I'll talk to you here I'll be back in my homeland. It's a weird feeling. There is so much I've learned to dislike about my culture, yet other aspects which I feel I need to defend with tooth and claw. Even with it's flaws, Canada is home and I feel justified to love it as my own.

I am going to do my best to catch up with updates of pictures, because I still have so much more to show. Ever since Siem Reap I have had amazing cultural photo opportunities, not to mention cultural experiences. My friend Penny here (the midwife/nurse with whom I visited Siem Reap) made a wise comment the other day after our bikeride. She stated that a camera can be used to isolate a tourist from it's subjects, taking their photo without permission or respect, yet it can also be a tool to gain a deeper connection with the people by providing a bridge in between experiences. I have discovered that from my own personal attempts to take photographs when I really try to respect the subjects' comfort level and culture. It is difficult to tell when it is appropriate to take a photo sometimes, so I try to give back when I can by showing those whom I have photographed the picture. For children and many adults, this may be the first time they've seen a photo of themselves, and every experience I've had doing this has been positive. It is the bridge to further conversation and interest into each other. Photo's fill in the words when our languages don't cross. Penny said it shows that you take that step to see them as an individual, and the Cambodian trait of friendliness comes out as they welcome you into their lives and family.

My final bike ride was a contant river of warm welcomings and new friends. Twice after stopping to take and show pictures I was invited to meet the family and hear their stories. I shared laughs with older women, and giggles with children. After I greeted and photographed an old man sitting alone and showed him my picture, he just beamed. I smiled and got ready to go, but as I did my bike toppled. Within an instant he was there to help me collect my things, and gave me a bag of fried bananas. Penny believes he was probably alone without children to look after him, and was just so happy to receive some attention and acknowledgement. I felt such adoration and love for this gesture and our small exchange, and this remains one of my favourite small moments.  It makes me feel sorry for the backpackers and tourists who stick to the trodden Angkor path... This is the real Cambodia, these are the real people and stories. These are the memories I hope to go away with. That memory of a connection or a shared moment is worth so much more than a pretty photograph. However, having that image for years to come is a gift to stir my memory and bring me back to this country of tragedy and kindness, one which has been engrained into my being forever. I hope one day to come again.

So I am home in 4 days... Leaving Battambang in 2. Off to Phnom Penh, then 12 hours free in Hong Kong. This is pretty crazy; hard to believe my internship is almost over. My feelings are scattered.

Remember a few weeks ago, that post about being violently sick and requiring an IV in my hotel room?

Well I've just had a rinse and repeat performance of the event.

IV and all.

 I couldn't believe it. Three more days wasted and feeling like the absolute lowest of the low. Fortunately I am no longer weak or ill, and all fever and nausea is gone. I felt frustrated because I have so little time to do so much work, because I missed out on an awesome bike trip this weekend, and because I hate being sick away from home. I am glad to be back to work.
I guess I might have eaten a few too many of these:

So much to update, so little time!! I need to finish my internship journals, because I'm definitely behind. It has been absolutely busy here, and I find myself spending 90% of my time occupied with work. The crazy thing is that I don't mind at all.







A few weeks ago my coworker wanted to take us to the temples in Battambang. I was the only one who coud go, but we had a lot of fun together. I got to











Monks performing a morning ceremony at the temple.








This temple was built at the same time as Angkor Wat.






Flowers!!




Participating in the offering to Buddha with incense and a bow of respect.



The Arch Sit.

I ate this! It's a water lotus. You have to peel it open to get the seeds. It's actually pretty good.



After the temple, Narap took me to a dam that was built during the Pol Pot regime. The water was low so it wasn't clean enough to want to swim, but the wide open lake was beautiful. It was the closest I've seen in Cambodia to cottage country because everyone was there with their families relaxing near the water. Narap and I found a "patio", a small hot on stilts with hammocks. We ordered food, relaxed, and had an amazing afternoon.





STREET CORN!!!



A little boy who was doing what I wanted to do... Swing like crazy!




A real Cambodian meal, complete with sitting down and sharing.






A darter



I ate one of these!!!


A cormorant



Darter






Planting rice




The dam was pretty amazing. I have more pictures but time constraints is making that difficult.







Siem Reap was pretty amazing, and I am going back again this weekend. It is a completely different world from Battambang or rural Cambodia, and I have to say I definitely prefer the latter two. It feels too much like a backpacker or tourist hub, which is fine for a while but after a while you begin to get sick of all the white people looking identical in their corporate hippie clothing. Nothing against backpackers, but an older friend once told me that the central goal of backpacking is a peeing contest of who got a better bargain or who did the most radical act.


Here is a preview: 




I'll update pics next week. I'm off to Siem Reap again so there will be plenty more pictures.

Remember a few weeks ago, that post about being violently sick and requiring an IV in my hotel room?

Well I've just had a rinse and repeat performance of the event.

IV and all.

 I couldn't believe it. Three more days wasted and feeling like the absolute lowest of the low. Fortunately I am no longer weak or ill, and all fever and nausea is gone. I felt frustrated because I have so little time to do so much work, because I missed out on an awesome bike trip this weekend, and because I hate being sick away from home. I am glad to be back to work.
I guess I might have eaten a few too many of these:

So much to update, so little time!! I need to finish my internship journals, because I'm definitely behind. It has been absolutely busy here, and I find myself spending 90% of my time occupied with work. The crazy thing is that I don't mind at all.







A few weeks ago my coworker wanted to take us to the temples in Battambang. I was the only one who coud go, but we had a lot of fun together. I got to











Monks performing a morning ceremony at the temple.








This temple was built at the same time as Angkor Wat.






Flowers!!




Participating in the offering to Buddha with incense and a bow of respect.



The Arch Sit.

I ate this! It's a water lotus. You have to peel it open to get the seeds. It's actually pretty good.



After the temple, Narap took me to a dam that was built during the Pol Pot regime. The water was low so it wasn't clean enough to want to swim, but the wide open lake was beautiful. It was the closest I've seen in Cambodia to cottage country because everyone was there with their families relaxing near the water. Narap and I found a "patio", a small hot on stilts with hammocks. We ordered food, relaxed, and had an amazing afternoon.





STREET CORN!!!



A little boy who was doing what I wanted to do... Swing like crazy!




A real Cambodian meal, complete with sitting down and sharing.






A darter



I ate one of these!!!


A cormorant



Darter






Planting rice




The dam was pretty amazing. I have more pictures but time constraints is making that difficult.







Siem Reap was pretty amazing, and I am going back again this weekend. It is a completely different world from Battambang or rural Cambodia, and I have to say I definitely prefer the latter two. It feels too much like a backpacker or tourist hub, which is fine for a while but after a while you begin to get sick of all the white people looking identical in their corporate hippie clothing. Nothing against backpackers, but an older friend once told me that the central goal of backpacking is a peeing contest of who got a better bargain or who did the most radical act.


Here is a preview: 




I'll update pics next week. I'm off to Siem Reap again so there will be plenty more pictures.

Apologies for the late entries! It has been absolutely insane, busy from spending a weekend at Siem Reap to another weekend spent sick in bed. No kidding, ANOTHER sick week. (PLUS another kidney stone episode). It has been an emotional and physical rollercoaster, but I feel very good now but anxious about getting all of my work done.

I have really had to think hard about how I’ve adjusted to this landscape of human movements and tropical air. I’ve adjusted well to the everyday mannerisms and social etiquette. I have learned to be very sensitive regarding people’s pasts, realizing how likely it is that they suffered tragedy under the Khmer Rouge. The sole of the foot is seen as the dirtiest part of the body, so I need to make a conscious effort not to cross my legs or point my feet at people. I have to make sure I do not touch another adult on the head, for this is the most sacred part of the body and doing so would be an offense. I am not a fan of handshaking, so I absolutely adore the quiet clasped hands to the face bow that is a sign of respect here. Chum Re’ap Sooa.

I try to dress appropriately for work and in public, but no matter how hard I try, I always looking quite dishevelled compared to the pristine appearance of local women here. I don’t know how they pull it off in this heat, but they do. For me, the biggest dress adjustment is covering my shoulders. It is so hot and humid here that the last thing I want to wear is a covered-shoulder t-shirt and long dress or pants, but I have no choice. I probably wear a thin-strapped tank top 50% of my time at home, even in winter. It’s weird to say, but I hate covering this part of my body. When I become conscious of this, I feel a twinge of annoyance like I am being suppressed. When I visit a local hotel and wear my bikini, I felt like I am the most exposed person in the world. Fortunately I can wear what I want in these tourist places, and the local people just look on in bemusement or do nothing at all.

Food etiquette is very different here, but I find it easy to adjust to. You receive a fork and spoon with your meal, and are required to wipe off the utensils with a napkin before you begin. It is customary to eat with a spoon and cut with a fork; getting into this behaviour was difficult at first (how do you cut stringy vegetables with a fork??) but now I don’t even think about it. Chopsticks are also used when you have something like noodle soup. I enjoy using chopsticks, except when I’m at dinner with a group of Khmer girls from work who spend the entire time giggling about how I’m eating a noodle a minute at my skill level. However, since then I’ve improved; I’ve mastered the art of eating salted/sugary peanuts with chopsticks, and I can pick up 2 at a time now. I will probably go home and continue to eat them this way, since I feel convinced that it makes them taste better.

I originally thought that I was not hugely restricted due to my gender because I am working with people who are very educated and liberal, and who I feel see me beyond my sex. However, I have had a few experiences where I felt confused and frustrated with the treatment I received based on my gender. Fortunately, I was able to stand up for myself without being culturally insensitive. I made a monk friend but according to etiquette I, being female, would not be allowed to touch him. It is that sort of significance that bothers me for a second and then I forget about it. Feminism is only a zygote here, so it’s going to take some time for women to be empowered. It’s still in its infancy, but it will come with the iphones and Crocs.

Cambodian men are very conservative and polite, and I would be absolutely shocked to witness cat-calling in the country. However, I don’t appreciate the stares. Whether they are because I’m female or not, I find that people like to watch barang (white people). I have to walk by a group of motorcycle taxis everyday, and I usually feel very awkward as their eyes pry constantly. I don’t know if it is just curiosity or culture, but sometimes I feel very uncomfortable. However, I need to realize that I am going to stand out with my skin, and I just have to be sensible and sensitive about it.

There have been a few uncomfortable moments I have felt like a friend is getting the wrong message. I never felt unsafe, just frustrated. Things would be going normal and then suddenly the warning lights go off in my head and I feel nauseated. Plus they are married! There is nothing worse than being thrown outside your comfort zone when the friend doesn’t understand you are just acquaintances. It must be a worldwide experience; some guys just don’t know how to be friends.

In spite of my initial perceptions that gender didn’t affect me, there have been a few incidences where I had to put my feminist foot down. While I have been trying to maintain cultural sensitivity, there have been times where I feel like I need to be assertive so that my ideas are not just walked through. I encountered similar instances in Kenya last summer and found myself feeling utterly helpless in these situations. I was never sure if I was being told to do something because I was a foreigner or because I was female. People at home know I don’t like to be told what to do. Like Kenya last year, I feel like I need to fight for my choices, but the battles are small and forgettable. The hierarchy in Cambodia is much more based on age, so having people listen to my ideas is quite an honour. I try to be respectful of my place while throwing my two cents in, and this seems to work.

One example is when I visited the temples at Angkor Wat two weekends ago, which I visited with the other intern and a local friend. We wanted a group picture, so I handed my camera to a woman in front of us. When I did that, my male friend instantly took the camera and gave it to the only man there with a group of 3 women. I was shocked and feeling rebellious, so after we had one picture I went to the woman by myself and asked her to take a picture of just me. She was absolutely thrilled! The next few minutes consisted of the women taking turns with the camera, and taking group pictures together. I felt like I crossed a bridge; I don’t know if my friend noticed my act. However, it was certain that these women loved the chance to be involved.

On a similar note, I enjoy joining the guys at work in an after work game of volleyball. Only recently have the women from work joined in. It is very likely that they have always wanted to, but having us join in first may have been an opportunity to join too. Its little things like this where I feel my x chromosomes shiver. I just want every woman to have the same opportunities I have. It is hard to witness how these opportunities are right in front of them, just held out of their reach.

All in all, when thinking of how I have learned to adapt in Cambodia, a flood of ideas fills my head. It’s hard to think of where to start in how I feel like a different person a world away. I remarked to my coworker/friend yesterday as we biked through town that I loved Battambang because it is a big game. She responded wisely, saying that you have to see it as a game or else you’ll end up going crazy. Amid the insanity of reckless driving, babies on motorcycles, people in pajamas, and synchronized Lady Gaga park aerobics, all you can do is laugh. Yesterday, a physically capable beggar came to our feet as we had lunch, and proceeded to slowly take my friend’s water bottle off the table and have a drink (What the..?) At the start of this trip I may have been frustrated, but now I can laugh.  I’ve learned to accept being told I’m “too fat” to fit in a skirt just because a woman wanted to close her store.
I have adjusted by absorbing each experience as enrichment to my own life. It’s about absorbing the lessons and not letting the negative experiences get to you. For me, this has been the biggest adjustment. It’s about accepting the world in all of its craziness and just going along for the ride.

First, a wonderful "Chinglish" shirt that I bought in the market. I got very excited about this one because I love the small print
.

Giant worm in the rural area that I keep thinking is a snake.

Crazy bridge we crossed in a big pickup truck








On a nice stroll around the forested area to watch birds I came across a traffic jam at the bridge.... I was the one who yielded.




Driving to do our interviews with the children. It was about an hour of roads like these (and worse!) to get to this isolated village. In spite of the "treacherous" conditions, absolutely one of the most fun things I've ever done. RIding a motorcycle through real traditional life (and real poverty) has been an intimate and overwhelming experience. Palms overhead, tropical rainforests at my shoulders- I found myself getting lost in the experience. Moto is the only way to see the world quickly and deeply simultaneously.



I look like such a nerd with Narap. Oh, and my helmet turned out to be wayyy to big.










We managed 18 interviews that day... We were trying to find out the children's knowledge about the environment and interest in an environmental club. The survey results are so exciting because every child wants to join!! I can't wait to hear about it up and running after I leave.

(Ps- Thank you Dave for your wonderful and useful resources!! They have been absolutely fantastic, and the children loved the magnets!! (Ontario frog watch!) I am basing a lot of my club on the curriculums you gave me.. Thank you!)

Pristine Tropical Rainforest. Wow.




Random village market stop for mango steens and awesome wafers.





Ecstacy.












My first scorpion. Fortunately the object is smaller that it appears, only about 1.5 inches. This one was living on the wall outside our accomodation. However, scorpions here aren't what you need to worry about. A sting is like a bad bee sting.... However, it's the rare giant bees you need to worry about here. They can kill.



First parent interview about the club!







A really poor family that will hopefully receive some help soon.




A very sweet family who suffered a tragedy last year when the father accidentally drowned. When we found out their history, the mother and grandmother began crying. This was really hard to witness. I hope they get the support they need.







The grandmother in a very sweet and welcoming family who have an adorable, ridiculously fat (aka Healthy!) baby girl. This was a wonderful visit.







I would have taken her home with me. Could she be my only souvenir? Please?

SO CUTE!




On the way back from the interviews we stopped at a river. Did I fall in by accident? I won't say.
















This made me laugh so hard. I don't know if you can see it, but in the background at the far l is rural Cambodia's only tollbooth. After leaving the river we came across this giant puddle, and to the right was a young girl standing at a makeshift bamboo pole blocking a dry route across. For a few cents we enjoyed the easy route across. Was this all really necessary?

SO adorable.

A lovely family who's daughter has polio and must travel really far to get to school over terrible roads.

A life of labour.




Morning rush hour.

A new species for me!! A garden fence lizard (like an iguana).

RAINFOREST!

A glassy tiger butterfly. This was the best I could do; the beautiful luminescent ones never keep still! The butterfly life here is phenomenal; so many different species, and giant, and I can't count the number of times I have seen one and mistaken it for a bird.

One of two adorable brothers who live near where I stay in the villages and who are now officially my friends.

Water buffalo



Bee eaters--- one of my favourite bird sightings.




Today I am off to Angkor Wat to have a fun tourist weekend. I am really excited and I'll update pictures when I get back!

I had a very interesting day yesterday (Saturday), and I made a curious new friend! I feel exhausted from the cultural overload, yet it was worth getting past my comfort level.

For the first time in my life, I slept into 1 pm. I don't know how this happened-- I had TWELVE hours of sleep, and have been exhausted all week so I obviously needed it. However, I was really disappointed about sleeping in because I had decided yesterday that this Saturday I would enjoy my day off at the Pagoda (Buddhist temple) and bring my sketchbook to draw. I was really excited about this, since I haven’t had many opportunities to draw and yet there is so much around to see. Cambodia’s architecture is an artist’s dream, and I wanted a chance to explore the town and get a feel of its culture and people.

I decided to go out for lunch, and afterwards I sat by the fountain and watched children fishing in the water, and later had a nice chat with a man there. Even though the sky looked foreboding and it was already 2 pm, I decided I would go to the pagoda and try sketching anyway.

I rode my bike to the pagoda and felt a bit weird being alone, since there was nobody around except for a few monks in the distance. The area was hidden from the street, but was filled with trees, shrines, birds and beautiful architecture. I didn’t know where to begin, so I found the only bench and sat down to draw. As soon as I sat down, a young monk approached me with a smile and asked about my art. I wasn’t into an inch of drawing when we had a long chat (his English was very good). He had a lot of questions about me, and had a lot to say about what he does as a monk and how he just finished high school (he’s 26). After chatting I asked if I could draw him, and he seemed very pleased. His name is Soeng Bunthen, and he was really interested in sharing stories with me and in making a new friend. A monk’s life is not easy, and it was apparent that he was probably bored. A swarm of children formed around me after a few minutes, and I enjoyed their comments and company while I struggled capturing my monk friend’s adorable smile.

The monks here are not what I expected at all. You would think that they are very stoic and conservative, yet the ones who I have met appear just as curious about me as I am of them. They are friendly, approachable and look for opportunities to chat. It is easy to forget that they are people just like us, and that they are just trying to get through life and make sense of the world as we do. A monk is an occupation, and while it brings you respect and honour, in a country sick with poverty, it is often the only option for education and a better life.

I spent a few hours chatting and drawing, and when I finished he wanted to show me where he lived, so I followed him down the road to a building where many young men were standing around. He introduced me to a few of them and they were all very friendly and interested in talking. He wanted to show me his art so he brought me to his room next to the group of people. It’s funny, you see monks around and it’s hard to imagine their lives outside of their religion because they look so honourable. Turns out he’s a just a guy who likes to draw when he’s bored, has a computer, and wants to go to school for marketing.

His art was absolutely beautiful, and his modesty about his talent was completely unfounded. He had some beautiful watercolour paintings of anchor watt, and admitted guiltily that he often paints from pictures (just like me). I had to go to meet for dinner, so I said goodbye and made a plan to visit next weekend. He sounded very keen to have some company on his boring days off, so hopefully I will visit and we will be sketching buddies!

In spite of my late start, this was an amazing and intimate experience that I won’t soon forget.
 

These are some of my favourite pics so far. Not necessarily because they are that good of photos, but because they were a unique experience. Even though these do not relate to my organization, please do not share them with anyone outside this blog just to be safe with their protocol.

From DSLR Best

From DSLR Best

From DSLR Best

From DSLR Best

From DSLR Best

From DSLR Best

From DSLR Best

Almost two weeks in Cambodia, and there is tonnes to say. Unfortunately the best I can do is a brief summary, and maybe let the pictures do the talking. I am very excited about the next three months, especially because I am on my way to developing the club program. To give an example of what represents my excitement... today I went into town and my organization bought a motorcycle helmet for me. They have already leant me a bicycle that is mine for my stay, and I have the freedom to explore town and discover new places. The motorcycle helmet is not only for when I ride as a passenger, but when I go into the village again there is a likely chance that I will get to learn how to ride a motorcycle on a dirt track. I’m so excited.

Battambang is pretty fantastic; I have an amazing hotel room which I didn’t expect... Satellite TV, AC, a private bathroom, fantastic hair conditioner! Everyone in my organization is incredible and there is a strong family feel to working there. It is like nothing I have experience before, and I am excited and honoured to be a part of it.

I have been eating lunch in restaurants every day for almost every meal because it is relatively cheap and there is no way to cook or store food in our rooms. It is becoming pricy so the discovery of imported peanut butter and crackers will be adequate.

I have discovered that hot soy milk with sugar is absolutely delicious... It is ironic that I discover this now. I am a vegetarian and have tried weaning myself off milk onto soy milk, but have found it too odd tasting to do. Now I find that I easily accept new foods, and have discovered new tastes. Morning glory? mmm!

Western food is freely available in these restaurants so it’s hard not to indulge in fries or a salad. Just to break any preconceptions on Cambodia, I had thee best caramel frappe ever here.

Tomorrow is another work day in the office, but I will be going into the villages again soon to meet with the community in order to build our projects from the ground up. The language barrier is incredible here, especially because the symbology is different as well. I think I am managing with my limited new vocab, but I really want to learn more so that I can be contributing to the conversation too. Khmer is tough, but now that I understand how the basic grammar works, sentences are coming easier. It’s all a start!

On a more serious note, as I progress, the shadow of the Khmer Rouge becomes ever present in my experiences and interactions with people and as I learn more about the history and people. Battambang was a centre of horror, where people were forced out and into labour camps. I heard today about the Killing Caves on the mountain where people were thrown into to die, and where a special cave was set out just for children. It is hard for me to comprehend something that occurred almost a decade before I was born, but for every Cambodian the wound is still relatively fresh, and I am astounded how well people cope. The number of individuals without legs is noticeable, yet these wounds are visible... those friends or coworkers who carry memories of atrocities yet do not speak of them wear a latent scar, and it’s only after you get to know someone where the context of the violence becomes apparent.

I apologize that this entry is so late for my YIIP blog, but I have been so busy and exhausted my first week that getting the chance to sit down and write has been difficult. Also, I have been putting off writing about my culture until now because I felt that I needed to take my feet out of the river and into the lake before deciding how warm it initially was. Sometimes culture only appears to exist when you have something to compare it to, such as being immersed in a country that at times seems polar opposite to your own, which geographically it is, but also contains strange parallels. In spite of such a different world view, there are evident similarities that sometimes I embrace and other times I shun, seeing some negative aspects of our Western culture rubbing off on others.

Here, I am Canadian not from a flag on my backpack, but from a dollar sign on my forehead saying that I am from a wealthy nation.

I have noticed a lot of people mentioning the hyphen quality of being a Canadian, and I am not innocent of this act. However, I think everyone who is not first nations has this hyphen quality or immigrant status. I have dual citizenship, as my father is a Brit, and I find I can associate with both easily, however my heart lives in Canada. To be landed Canadian is extremely difficult to describe, since from first appearance we don’t seem to have any unique characteristics that aren’t absorbed from other cultures. In Cambodia, it is very obvious to see their unique practices, such as eating with a spoon and cutting with a fork. At home, we are so used to normality that it’s easy to falsely assume that the rest of the world has culture and we are but an empty canvas.

I don’t think we ever stop being reflective on our culture; it has been a challenge to outline what is my own. There are some pieces that fit on the tip of the iceberg; although I don’t play hockey, I am (almost) bilingual, I do try to be nice and mannered, I enjoy the first snowfall but hate the rest, and I am very good at complaining.  I am Canadian in a sense that I love those beer commercials and thought Molson sold out. I am Canadian through my desire to explain to people about multiculturalism yet never fully understand its complexities. Moose are still pretty cool to me, I have been dogsledding, and I love hearing misunderstandings about Canada and its ‘frigid north’. I would like to think that we are humble, but I from experiencing subway rush hour I could be wrong.

Perhaps we identify most clearly in the negatives, such as are being non-American or our distaste for cold. However, below the surface, like Jung’s archetype, lies a shared experience embedded our nation’s memory. Torontonians may appear a world apart from people in Calgary, yet from my travels across the west you can feel an unspoken language that defines us as Canadian. For example, I have noticed from my own experience that feeling safe is important to me, and so seeing families ride around here on motorcycles with their babies on their laps is quite unnerving. I think that our culture requires a certain risk level, and that opportunities like this internship challenge this comfort level.
Canada is not my primary identity; I see myself as a product of my upbringing and experience, and that I don’t necessary fall into the standard this iceberg. Suburbs appal me, and cities gradually bore me. Having grown up in the country with a strange parade of animals entering my house and life, I need wide open spaces. I am fortunate to have resources unknown to people in my host country, yet to explore the entire expanse of Canada would take a lifetime, and the small amount that I have seen has put me in awe. I have never been a fan of shaking hands, finding them too often awkward, painful or noodly. In Cambodia, a nod with clasped hands at the chin is a sign of respect. “Chum Reap Sooa”.
 I am a minority in this nation in that religion has no place in my life. I don’t believe in cultural relativism, but rather universal laws on morality governed by our own social evolutionary history. I sometimes feel out of touch with people my age and get along best with weirder individuals. I prefer reading Scientific American over Vogue. I really hate crocs.

Cambodia is an eye opener to different world views and personal insights. We in the west tend to favour individualism and being set apart as a special snowflake; I am definitely one who wants to stand out. Here, the group collective appears more important than the individual, which has its advantages. I don’t think either world view is wrong, but just a different approach to the world.

To define myself through culture and draw boundaries would be superficial, since I try to look past dualities and see instead similarities in new people I meet. Maybe this is what it is to be Canadian; to look at others in awe or for fresh insight into how to understand the world, because maybe we feel it is the only way to understand ourselves.

However, in spite of the highlights, the constant exposure to poverty and the awareness ghost of being in a past warzone is ever present.

Unfortunately I won't be able to update about what we are doing there or in the office. It turns out due to the context of the organization and association with two certain celebrities there is a serious liability issue so I'm not allowed to post online pictures or really say what we're doing here. It's disappointing, but I totally understand why; they had an issue where someone said something not so great and it ended up in the tabloids. However, I am going to talk to my awesome boss and he's going work this out with me since I need to do my online blog for my internship. However, it might be ok with my private blog or I could have my entries reviewed before I post them. I am sorry if this has restricted my entry quality, but I totally understand why I need to respect their confidentiality agreement.  Also, since you are aware of my travels please do not publicly announce about my presence or anything I might  have mentioned so far. I will be able to talk to people privately or in person, but in terms of spilling the information on the web, that would be a problem.

In spite of this setback, I do plan to post stories and pics of from my Cambodian experience outside of my internship... Expect pictures soon!

I'm here!!!

I plan to update later a whole mess of things I've done (Monks and babies on motorcycles?? ) but right now I need to get some sleep before heading off to Battambang.


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This is the King's palace: