Cambodia: the adventure continues

     I am motivated to write by the realization that if someone looks at my blog for the first time, the entry that greets them is the one that's full of my whining and complaining. Not a very good first impression.

     It's also no longer an accurate reflection of how I'm feeling, fortunately. As we all know, those moods come and go, and thankfully, that one has gone. Life is back to feeling like a more balanced mix of charming amusements and mild frustrations, interesting opportunities and predictable routines, with an occasional bit of novelty thrown in now and then.

     I took my motorbike in for service and an oil change last week. There's a Suzuki dealer just around the corner from our house, so I stopped in to see what would happen if I tried to explain the funny noise and odd hesitation I was noticing. I was shown to a plastic chair and my bike was put up on a lift a few feet in front of me while two men in spiffy uniforms went to work dismantling practically the whole thing. Bit by bit, they showed me pieces they removed that needed replacing. Some I could recognize: the chain, the sprocket, the brakes, the wheel bearings. Some I couldn't recognize at all. Each part was presented to me with a sad and apologetic look and the receptionist translated for the mechanic. "Sorry, Madame. This one, need new also." I would ask how much, and would be told, "Sorry, this one three dollars." (Or two dollars, or - OMG - nine dollars!) Much like when I would take my car in for service to an unfamiliar mechanic back home, I would wonder whether this particular part truly needed replacing, but would put myself at their mercy for lack of a better option. In the end, it took 25 minutes to replace everything with new parts right out of the boxes, and cost $36. And I must say that the bike both goes and stops much better than before. (Sovann was quick to tell me that I paid too much and should have gone to one of the roadside mechanics who set up shop under a tarp, but in the end I felt like I got my money's worth, both in terms of service and confidence in the experience.)

After all that repair work, I took the bike for a wash.
For about 60 cents it got all cleaned up while I was given a chair and the opportunity to
read Khmer newspapers or watch Tom & Jerry cartoons on TV.

One of the more popular models: the Suzuki Smash.
Why not just call it the Suzuki "Accident?"

     We splurged and bought an oven a few weeks ago. It's more like an over-sized toaster oven, but it does have temperature control and is big enough to hold a loaf of bread, so that's mostly what I've been making. It's amazing how much pleasure can be had from a loaf of warm oatmeal bread or a pan of brownies. Before we got the oven, the only food I ever made here is hummus and burritos, but now I find myself occasionally interested in cooking. Perhaps I'll expand my repertoire even further.

     I'm planning to go to a combination yoga and cooking class in a couple of weeks. I've been saying I should try yoga for years and never have - now seems as good a time as any. I'm a little late on the yoga bandwagon, but it's time to give it a whirl.

     Work at the World Hope Assessment Center feels more and more comfortable as time goes on. As with any job, the first few weeks or months are fraught with moments of confusion and the accompanying lack of self-confidence that comes with either not being sure of the best way to handle something, or being quite sure that I have no idea how to handle something. But I learn, and I do some research, and I ask questions. Sometimes I try something and find that my basic instincts were spot on, and sometimes I find that I've misread a situation entirely. The language barrier is a part of my daily existence, and even with people who speak relatively good English, we have moments of mis-communication. But I feel more and more comfortable in my role, which is always a good feeling.

     Another part-time job opportunity has presented itself, which I will explore further this week. This one involves working with a relatively new organization that serves children with disabilities and would include coordinating their medical care as well as doing home visits. In some ways, it's the perfect fit for my skills, except for the part about not having a lot of experience with children with disabilities, but I can learn. More news about this when I know more.

Random photo for your amusement:
a condom ad at the local corner store, funded in part by USAID.
I really need to ask someone to translate the words for me.

      Steve continues to play tennis like a maniac as often as he can. In a good week, he can play 3-4 times, sometimes early in the morning before the heat becomes too oppressive, but he's been known to play in the worst heat of the day when the opportunity presents itself. He's enjoying his new morning job, where he's finding that his skills are appreciated and his ideas are valued. Such a refreshing change. And in the category of trying new things, Steve was one of six speakers for the inaugural Nerd Nite Siem Reap. This is an event in which people have the opportunity to speak to an audience about something they're passionate about, and they can show 20 slides for 20 seconds each in order to do it. Can you guess his topic? Food, of course.

Steve and his fellow Nerd Nite presenters.

      Jaz is about to finish a full-time online semester at CCV and is already enrolled in her classes for the fall. She's teaching a few private students and plans to start a morning teaching job at another international school in a few weeks, after she and Sovann come back from a real vacation in Thailand in mid-August. She hasn't left Cambodia in over a year, and has really only left Siem Reap to go visit Sovann's family, so she's long overdue. And Sovann, who has struggled the past few months with no tuktuk work at all, has just passed the entrance exam to a very good culinary school here in Siem Reap and will begin his full-time studies in September. I look forward to sampling all of his homework - he's already a good cook, but I hope we'll be able to taste all the things he's learning over the next 10 months.

      Speaking of vacation, Steve and I are talking about taking a long weekend to get out of town. All the long-time expats offer the same advice: get out of town on a regular basis! We haven't listened to that advice well enough, and several of them who read the last blog entry pointed out that my mood might be greatly improved by a brief change of scenery. So maybe we'll head to Bangkok or the Thai beaches in the next few weeks for a mini-vacation. It doesn't have to be too expensive, though it still feels decadent when you think about the fact that most Cambodians work harder than we do and never have such a thing as a vacation. Add that to the list of things to feel ambivalent and/or guilty about...

      While folks back home in Vermont were having a heat wave, we had a bit of a cool spell. The rains, which had ceased for a couple of weeks, returned and brought much cooler weather for a few days. While that brings its own challenges (driving in the mud can be as challenging as driving in ice and snow, and a hard rain while you're driving a motorbike can feel more like hail as it pelts down on you), it was nice to have a break from being sweaty every minute of the day. Of course, after a few days the rain stopped again and the heat returned full-force. It usually cools down a bit after the sun sets, but the other evening it was still more than 90 degrees at 8pm, which I find a bit too much.

     There are social events and dinner parties and new restaurants around town, and thanks to a very active Siem Reap Expats Facebook page, we hear about new things all the time. A great new falafel place just opened: $3 for falafel, fries and a beer. We're looking forward to trying the new Texas BBQ restaurant someday soon. There are art openings and more live music than ever before - life in Siem Reap isn't all about sweating and trying to keep the ants out of the cereal box. All these youngsters in town know how to party, and if we pace ourselves carefully, we can keep up now and then.

     So there's our latest news. More details will be coming soon about the new job, and I have some other ideas percolating that I've been meaning to write about for a long time, so stay tuned.

Sometime I have terrible, horrible, no-good very bad days (Warning: This post is rated R for language)

     Usually I wait for the right mood to strike me to write a blog entry. If I'm not in a "writing mood," it just feels like a huge chore and nothing productive comes of it. And if I'm not in an upbeat mood, then I feel like I write things that sound too morose and I certainly wouldn't want anyone to think I'm not happyhappyhappy all the time!

     But I'm not happyhappyhappy all the time. Sometimes I'm irritable. Sometimes I'm cranky. Sometimes I'm downright bitchy and want to tell everyone around me to fuck off almost every time they open their mouths. Sometimes I'm sad, or a bit lonely for my friends or my family back home, and sometimes I even cry over stupid little shit.

     For those who are looking for a light-hearted glimpse into the exciting life of an ex-pat living in a foreign country, fuck off. (Just kidding.) Well, partly just kidding. I'm in one of those moods right now. And it's in some kind of rapidly-cycling roller coaster with the tears. We could blame it on hormones - though I'll spare you all the details of my peri-menopausal symptoms - but whatever we want to blame it on, here it is. And since I got a fair amount of feedback that even more serious topics are welcome here, off we go.

Nine Things That Piss Me Off This Week:

1. You know that little trick I mentioned about putting an ice cube in your ashtray to keep the ashes from blowing all over? Well, it's a giant pain in the ass because I forget that it's there and I put my cigarette down and the end gets all wet and soggy and there's nothing more disgusting than wet cigarette butts and ashes. Not to mention that I've wasted a cigarette. Luckily, they're only 30 cents a pack. Too bad I'm a smoker; maybe this is the universe's way of telling me to quit. Certainly Steve's way of telling me to quit isn't working. He says, "I hate that you smoke!" which makes me want to say, "Fuck off!" And then I light another one.

2. And while we're on the subject of things I just mentioned in a blog entry, that whole "don't get offended when people call you fat" thing is wearing pretty thin, so to speak. Last evening, I ran into a Khmer friend who I hadn't seen in a couple of months. He's a nice guy, and pretty savvy because he works with foreigners a lot. He greeted me with a big smile, and said, "Hi! Wow - fat! You're so fat now." Then he looked over at Steve and pointed out to him, "She's so fat!" I was not amused. Guess what I wanted to say back to him? You guessed it: "Fuck off!" Instead, I hit him. On the arm. In that friendly Khmer way people do here. But maybe a little harder than that. And I can't let it go, because all day today my mind keeps wandering back to that moment and I've been writing scripts in my head about what I'd like to say the next time I see him. "Hi! Wow - so thin! You look like an HIV man!" Because that is what people here worry about when they're very thin - that other people will think they have HIV.

3. Have I mentioned it's fucking hot? I knew that it would be, of course, and usually it doesn't bother me so much, but the last couple of weeks have been brutal. Hotter than usual, as others here agree, but even less tolerable for me than it seems to be for everyone else. I sweat under my eyes and above my lip, and I can't even enjoy being in the hammock unless there's a really stiff breeze - which usually just feels like a really hot blast furnace.

4. Corruption. There's a ton of it. Not that we don't have our own forms of institutionalized and government-sanctioned corruption in the US, but at least in the US the kids don't have to pay the teachers to make sure they pass their tests. And violence - again, not that we don't have plenty of it at home, but my job here reminds me every day about the victimization of young girls in particular, and how some families' response to their daughter's rape is to accept payment from the rapist's family in order to drop the charges, or to arrange for their daughter to marry the rapist now that she's "damaged goods" and no one else will want her. (There's a lot more to say about that, and I have a half-written post in the works on that topic.)

5. Our landlord is pissing me off. We rent the upper half of a lovely house, and the landlord and his family live downstairs. One of the advantages of this arrangement would seem to be that if we have a problem, the landlord is easily available to attend to it. But apparently he's far too busy, and if he ever gets around to arranging a repair of some kind, we're supposed to pay for it anyway, so it's easier to just tackle it ourselves from the start. And also, the fact that they take great care of the plants in their yard would suggest that they take pride in their home, but why is the yard still strewn with garbage sometimes? I swear, there was a broken computer keyboard lying next to the driveway for months, not to mention the cellophane noodle wrappers and other detritus that just blows around the yard. WTF? 

6. My fucking computer. The one that keeps breaking and not getting fixed properly. The one I bought here when we were robbed and all our electronics were stolen, so I had to pay more than I would have had to pay at home for what appears to be a piece of shit. It says it’s an Acer, which we’ve always had good luck with in the past, but either I got a lemon or Acer sends all their shit computers to Cambodia. This is compounded by the fact that the repair shop is so difficult to work with (see previous post on that topic) and the new symptom it develops every week. My keyboard is “fixed” now, though the squeaking sound it makes whenever I press any keys in the middle suggests that it won’t last. Also, it likes to randomly shut down with no warning. And this week, its modem seems to be failing because after an hour or so, it loses its connection to the internet and then claims there are no wifi connections to be found – despite the fact that everyone else in the house is still connected. The solution is to restart, which wouldn’t be so difficult if that didn’t take 8-10 minutes, probably because of all the extra software that the repair shop likes to install every time they “fix” the damn thing. (They probably installed some keystroke logger and are reading this right now and getting ready to report me for criticizing the government.) (Nah, on second thought, anyone who thinks you can fix a keyboard by changing the font probably isn’t clever enough to do that.)

7. Smells. Especially when the landlord is cooking fish just off our balcony and the neighbors are burning garbage (at least they get rid of it somehow) and the hotel down the street is spraying clouds of DDT or something to control mosquitoes.

8. Ants. This is apparently Ant Season. The ants we have are tiny little things – really really tiny – but what they lack in size they make up for in number, and they have some magical way of getting into “airtight” containers. They’re just as likely to be found in the bathroom or the bedroom as in the kitchen, so they’re not always looking for what we would think of as food, but they march in miniature battalions all over the walls. And sometimes you’re sitting somewhere, innocently minding your own business and swearing at your laptop (or your landlord, or your friends), and you feel a minor tickle on your ankle or your hand or your neck, and then you realize there are ants crawling on you. At least these ants don’t bite, and you can’t really taste them if they get into your food. But there are also biting ants, and an occasional bite from one of those will hurt for days and take weeks to heal. Fuck off, ants.

9. Myself. Mostly I am just pissed off at myself, for feeling like this. For being annoyed and pissed off at the things I can usually laugh at or ignore. For having lost touch with the sense of fun and amusement at the quirks and charms of this place that I love. For smoking cigarettes and getting fat. For writing in incomplete sentences. For being such a pain in the ass to live with that Steve has to steer clear of me whenever possible, which then gives me another reason to be pissed at him. I wouldn’t want to live me right now.

     So I’ll either post this before I lose my nerve and then suffer the angst of having exposed my negative self, or I won’t post it and then I’ll suffer the shame of being unwilling to share my darkest moments.

     On another (but related) note, this is one of those times when I think about who might read this drivel. This blog started years ago as a place to write about our travels, and then evolved into a place to write about our new life in Cambodia. The original audience was people back home who were interested in what we were up to. Now there are readers who I don’t know at all (because I allow access to anyone who stumbles upon it) but also includes people who I know here. I worry less about exposing myself to friends and family at home – and I don’t care so much about strangers – but knowing that people who I see here on a regular basis may read it makes me feel far more vulnerable. We all attempt to present ourselves in one way or another, and this post admits that I’m not always who I would like to be. So for any local friends reading this: no looks of pity please! It will provoke either a “fuck off” or tears, and we don’t want that.

Now please excuse me for a moment while I restart my fucking computer and use the time that takes to consider whether or not to post this...

     (And damn, I forgot to mention about how much the tourists bug me, with their culturally inappropriate dress, their belief that they can save the world by volunteering for a day hugging some orphans, and their obnoxious habit of walking in the middle of the street as though it's a pedestrian zone.)

Eleven random things I've learned that are useful in my daily life in Cambodia (with unrelated photos just to make this post more colorful)

1. When driving, it's legal to turn right on red (and left on red, and straight on red) but it's illegal to drive with your headlights on during the day.


2. Calling someone "talkative" translates into an insult.

3. An ice cube in your ashtray will keep the ashes from blowing all over the table.


4. Even though an establishment - including a health clinic - has posters on the wall extolling the virtues of hand-washing, it doesn't mean there will be a sink in the bathroom. (And if there is a sink, there will never be any soap or hot water or towels.)

5. When leaving your helmet sitting on your parked motorbike, make sure it isn't upside down or it will fill with rain, take days to dry, and smell like wet helmet for two weeks.


6. Just because there's a clock in the bank lobby, don't assume you will know the correct time. (Recently I visited a bank with a row of clocks that claimed it was 3:27 in Cambodia, 3:45 in New York, and 12:09 in Paris.)

Gotta do something to kill time while waiting for customers...

7. Don't be offended by anything. Examples:

• Being asked how much you pay for anything (and then being told you paid too much.) 
• Being told your tires need air because you are very fat. 
• Almost being run off the road by another driver. (Just exchange big smiles and move on.)
• Having your arm stroked and squeezed by random strangers while being told how white you are. (I like to blow their minds sometimes and remove my watch, showing them my untanned strap mark so they can see how white I really am.)
• Having a vendor quote a price that you know is twice what the locals pay. 
• Being asked to borrow money.

 

8. There are many kinds of policemen. In some circles, they are known as the "shit police" (the traffic police), the "fucking shit police" (any kind of police who fine you and pocket the money or charge you to investigate a crime), and the "tidy police" (who keep the peace, so to speak.) There are also the temple police, the commune police, and the tourist police, as well as others, I'm sure.

This would be the "police who take their kids to work."

9. If you want to know exactly how hot it is so you can whine to your friends back home complete with objective data, bring your own thermometer as there are none to be seen here. Nor are there any weather reports, unless you go online.

10. Don't fret about buying meat in the market that is hanging around in 95-degree heat. (It's only been dead a couple of hours, so there hasn't been enough time for deadly bacteria to grow.)

11. Really, never assume anything.

• Never assume that the neighbors won't set up a wedding tent in the middle of your street requiring you to drive the long way around or straight through their party. 
• Never assume that someone will call before coming to visit, that they will knock when they arrive, or that they will be able to interpret your unspoken signals that it's time to go home.
• Never assume that germ theory is a universally accepted concept. For example, if you get conjunctivitis, you may be told that it's probably because you looked at two dogs having sex.
• Especially never assume that there's no logic behind the way things are done here - just because the logic is not obvious to you doesn't mean there isn't a kind of logic involved that you don't understand yet.

Wedding tent in the middle of our lane.

Ten reasons I haven't posted lately

1. It's been too damn hot. We've been having a bit of unseasonably hot and humid weather in the middle of what is supposed to be rainy season, and the temperature and humidity knocks me out. 


2. I've been busy. I'm working more, and while it's far from full-time, it is sporadic and unpredictable enough to leave me feeling like I'm working more than I actually am.. 


3. I'm cranky. See #1 above.


4. I'm too in love with my iPad, which works perfectly well for 90% of my computing needs, but isn't so great for writing long text. I could use my laptop, with its still wonky keyboard, but I'm usually too lazy to go to turn it on and wait through the five-minute start up process.


5. So I guess being too lazy has to go on this list too.


6. I'm feeling kind of lousy these last couple of weeks, with a collection of vague yet extremely annoying symptoms. Every day I give myself a provisional diagnosis of something different - virus, thyroid imbalance, MS, chronic fatigue syndrome, brain tumor, menopause, spinal misalignment, benign paroxysmal positional vertigo, middle age, Lyme Disease, mitral valve prolapse - you name it, and I've probably considered it. It makes me cranky (see #3 above) and tired.


7. Sometimes I get all bent out of shape when I post something on the blog and get no responses about it. It seems I crave more interaction than a blog format provides, which leads to...


8. I spend way too much time on Facebook, where I can find that interaction I'm craving, and stalk people from back home, and keep a connection alive just by taking 2 seconds to click "Like." (If I ever feel like writing again, I could tell you how the evolution of the way I use Facebook over the past year reflects something about where I am at both physically and psychologically, but that would probably only be interesting to me.) 


9. I feel like the novelty/honeymoon phase of life in Cambodia is over. My perspective and outlook are shifting, and I find I'm more likely to want to post about more serious topics, which I don't think most of you will enjoy reading. (And then you won't respond and I'll get all bent out of shape.... see #7 above.)


10. 


OK, maybe I can only think of nine reasons. (So maybe Reason #10 should be lack of creativity.)


Just to keep this post from boring you completely to death, I will include a photo. This is is the brand new sign for my favorite business in town - well, the business whose name I love more than any other. Their sign and awning used to say "Steel Door Achievment" (missing a second "e") and  now it says "Steel Door Achivement." 


I wonder what they did with the old awning. I would totally take it and use it on our balcony...

Gifts from the heart

I had a very lovely birthday, full of good food and nice gifts. Steve bought me a beautiful scarf that I've been lusting after. I spent lots of time reading and responding to lovely emails and messages full of nice wishes. I ate bagels and cream cheese, and drank wine on the balcony, and took a lovely nap as the rain fell outside and cooled off the afternoon.

The most interesting part the day was the gift Sovann got for me.

He was excited to cook dinner in honor of my birthday, and I was very happy for him to do so. He made pork ribs and fish amok, and it was all delicious. In addition, he gave me a gift, presented in the same heart-shaped box that he had proudly presented to Jaz on Valentine's Day.

I couldn't imagine what would be inside.

No, really: I could never have imagined.

It was a big, juicy, American-size fried chicken leg. (And a little plastic bag of spicy sauce to go with it.)

He knows that my favorite part of the chicken is the leg. Here, chicken is more expensive than duck, and Cambodian chickens tend to be a bit scrawny, so he searched the market for the biggest one he could find, and he was proud to tell me how much he paid for it. (One dollar.)

If a gift is meant to reflect that you've put some thought and effort into choosing it, and that you've considered the recipient's tastes, he did a beautiful job, especially since this whole birthday-celebrating, gift-giving nonsense is a totally foreign concept for him.

I wish I could say that I do as well in my efforts to join in and understand foreign customs.

He apologized over and over for not having a "good gift" for me. I assured him over and over that I loved his gift and it was very thoughtful. He apologized again, this time because "Cambodian people are so poor." I reminded him that gifts are not always something you can buy, but often what you do for someone, what you give from your heart.

Americans may have the big wallets, but many Cambodian people have much bigger hearts.

It was a lovely birthday.

My customer service experience of the day

The setting: "Worldwide Technology", a deceptively-named computer shop in Siem Reap where I bought my laptop a few months ago. Their website is under construction, but their motto appears there: "We bring you to the latest technologies." Yesterday I brought the laptop in because six of the keys stopped working. 

Me: (Enter the shop)

Employee: (One runs into the back room, the other greets me with a big smile) "He go get for you!"

Me: "Thank you."(Back-room guy returns with my laptop.) "Is it fixed?"

Employee: (They exchange confused looks.) "Not sure."

Me: "Could we check?"

Employee: (After long pause) "You want turn on?"

Me: "Yes, can we check to see if it is fixed?" (Hopeful smile)

Employee: "OK" (They wander away)

Me: (Remove laptop from cover, hit power button. No response.) "Do you have power cord? So I can turn on?"

Employee: "You need power cord?"

Me: "Yes, power cord. So I can turn on."

Employee: "I think battery finished. No power."

Me: "Yes, I think so. Could I use a power cord to plug it in?" (Repeat this exchange again. Employees eventually produce power cord by opening a box with a new computer in it and removing the cord. After a few more minutes, they are able to find an outlet and get the laptop plugged in. I turn it on, bring up a new Word document, type the previously-reported-as-not-working keys and get no response.) "Not fixed yet. Still has the problem with the keys that don't work."

Employee: (Looks at me incredulously, then calls guy from the back room to come. Lively exchange in Khmer.) "Uh, you speak Khmer?"

Me: "No." (I'm never going to admit it even when I do, if I ever do.)

Employee: (More lively conversation in Khmer. Thanks to the globalization of language, I am able to pick out the English word "keyboard" many times.) "OK, but can work. Have to be strong strong with keys." (Guy from the back room begins pounding the offending keys with great vigor. Eventually, they begin to work.) "See? No problem." (Big smile.)

Me: "No, still a problem. I should not have to hit the keys 'strong strong.'"

Employee: "No, you hit strong strong and then work. No problem."

Me: "No, still a problem. It should be easy all the time. Just like the other keys, easy all the time. I think you still need to fix."

Employee: (After more Khmer conversation) "Cannot fix now. Now no problem. If no problem, cannot fix. We fix screen already last time!" (Referring to the time I had to take in last month when the screen crapped out.)

Me: "I know you fix the screen already. Thank you. But now we have one new problem: keyboard. This computer is not old. I buy from you five months ago. Should work easy easy all the time."

Employee: "But cannot fix now, because now no problem. You take home, bring back if problem again."

Me: "If I take it home, I think I will come back tomorrow because the problem will start again. Can you fix it if I come back tomorrow with same problem again?" [Only as I type this do I realize how I sound when I talk to Khmer people with limited English. Is it condescending or kind to simplify my grammar and vocabulary in order to be more easily understood?]

Employees: "Yeah, yeah. Maybe tomorrow." (Begin to wander off again.)

Me: "I think this laptop still has warranty. Maybe the company can fix."

Employee: "When we send to company, take long time. Go to China. Problem with keyboard, we cannot open laptop to fix. Only company can do."

Me: "OK, maybe we should send to the company. Maybe they can fix the problem." (Test the keyboard again myself. Find that the keys work easily, until I hit SHIFT and then they don't work at all.) "See? We still have the problem."

Employee: (Tests keyboard and confirms that keys don't work when SHIFT is pressed, even after vigorous pounding.) "Not work now because you press SHIFT."

Me: "Yes, exactly."

Employee: "If no press SHIFT, no problem."

Me: "But sometimes I must press SHIFT, when I need to make the big letter. So still have the problem."

Employee: (One gathers up laptop and heads in to the back room) "He go now, clean keyboard."

Me: "He's going to clean the keyboard?" (Employee nods to confirm understanding) "I think maybe he did that already, when he tried to fix yesterday."

Employee: "No, he not clean yet!"

Me: (slightly defeated) "How long until finished?"

Employee: (After shouted Khmer between front of shop and back room) "Not sure!"

Me: "Maybe I come back later..."

Just another day in Customer Service Land...Endlessly entertaining, but not so efficient.

In Cambodia, Comedians Double as Government Propagandists

This article is from The Atlantic, and can be found in its original form here. It has nothing to do with me directly, but I found it fascinating, and thought it might interest some of you who are curious about Cambodia and the general political situation. All credit belongs to The Atlantic and the author, Julia Wallace.

PHNOM PENH, Cambodia -- One recent Sunday afternoon, television audiences across Cambodia watched a middle-aged man named Krem as he was introduced to the mother of his young girlfriend.

The mother, Oeurn, looked dubiously at her daughter's poorly dressed, extravagantly mustachioed suitor.

"How did you spend the Cambodian New Year?" Oeurn asked him.

"I went to Preah Vihear," Krem replied, referring to a contested 11th century temple on the Thai border that has sparked several skirmishes between Cambodian and Thai forces over the past few years. "We performed comedy for the soldiers who protect us from Thai invasion. I would like to ask the New Year's angel to protect our soldiers and let them defeat the enemy."

A bit later, Krem abruptly announced to Oeurn, "Phnom Penh municipality now has less garbage and is cleaner. Do you know who did that?"

"Who?"

"It is because of Excellency Kep Chuktema, the governor. He has educated people and broadcast it on television not to litter, so now there is less garbage and no more bad smell."

It might not be precisely how every Cambodian villager addresses his prospective mother-in-law, but the exchange was par for the course on Bayon TV, where Krem's wildly popular comedy troupe performs a similar sketch every week, with goofy domestic scenarios routinely breaking into extravagant praise for government policy or officials aligned with the ruling Cambodian People's Party. The propaganda became even more pointed in late April, during 13 days of deadly border clashes with Thai forces.

Bayon, owned by the daughter of Cambodia's strongman prime minister, Hun Sen, is not alone: this kind of politicized comedy is shown on all of the country's eight television stations -- performed by comedians who, frequently, are also paid members of Hun Sen's personal bodyguard unit. Many of the comedians bear the rank of colonel or lieutenant colonel.

The country's dozens of "colonel comedians" underscore the extent to which Hun Sen and his CPP have consolidated power over the past two decades, successfully marginalizing not just rival politicians but also dissenting artistic and cultural voices.

"It is further evidence of the deep reach of Hun Sen's personal networks of loyalties, and the growing difficulty of doing opposition politics in Cambodia," said Duncan McCargo, a professor of Southeast Asian politics at the University of Leeds.

In 1997, Hun Sen -- who then served as co-prime minister in a coalition government with a royalist political party, Funcinpec -- staged a bloody coup, ousting his counterpart, Prince Norodom Ranariddh. Although Ranariddh was eventually allowed to return, Funcinpec suffered heavy losses in subsequent elections and never recovered. More recently, in 2009 and 2010, the government filed two separate lawsuits against Sam Rainsy, a liberal politician popular among urbanites and expatriate Cambodians. Rainsy, who had emerged as the new leader of the opposition, was ultimately sentenced to a total of 12 years in prison, leaving him in de facto exile in France. And over the past few years, the government has systematically sued activists, journalists, and critics of every ilk, levying steep fines or jail terms (one man was sentenced to two years for suggesting that a new lighting system at Angkor Wat could harm the 12th-century temple).

Although most of the colonel comedians' skits and sketches are only sporadically political, they sometimes venture into deeper ideological waters. In 2009, after U.S. Ambassador Carol Rodley infuriated the government with a speech on corruption, both Krem and his equally famous counterpart Koy launched a series of comedy routines that bitingly mocked international NGOs for their own corruption problems.
In 2005, Krem created a routine called "Be Careful Not to Overuse Your Rights" that cast aspersions on human rights workers who teach Cambodian villagers about equality. And, during every election season, the comedians barnstorm around the countryside on the CPP's behalf.

General Hing Bunheang, commander of the Prime Minister Bodyguard Unit, an autonomous section within the Royal Cambodian Armed Forces, confirmed that the unit had a bureau called the "Propaganda and Education Commission." It comprised 152 performers and artists, including the bulk of the country's comedians.

"Most of them are men, and they have the same rank as colonels. They have their own weapons," he said. As soldiers, the comedians "can go to battle with Thailand if there is a need," he added.

They can also misuse their weapons: In April, the popular comedian San Mao, also known as Colonel Thu Chamrong, was detained in Phnom Penh after firing his military-issue handgun in the air during a brawl. Police quickly released him, suggesting that the bodyguard unit discipline him.

According to General Bunheang, artists receive personal invitations from Hun Sen to join the unit and sometimes perform for audiences free of charge at the premier's request. He insisted that the members of the Propaganda and Education Commission are not engaged in propaganda.

"The bodyguard group is not for political propaganda but for entertaining people," he said.

Mu Sochua, a prominent opposition lawmaker, laughed at Bunheang's claim. Sochua had herself narrowly avoided a jail term after she was stripped of her parliamentary immunity and convicted of defaming the prime minister in 2009.

"It's a form of propaganda," she said. "It's not art, it's not promoting freedom of expression in the arts. ... The language that is used by the comedians, and sometimes even the gestures and the movements, convey a lot of power and authority and violence. And the message is all about good and evil."

Krem, the stage name of Colonel Ou Bunnarith, is a case in point. Perhaps the most passionately partisan of all the comedians, he displays an almost missionary zeal for winning converts to the CPP.

"Convincing people via artistic performances is very successful, and it is easy to take people out from their misbehavior or participation with the wrong political parties," he said in an interview.

Krem has been a household name in Cambodia since the 1980s, when the nation was only a few years removed from the ultra-communist Khmer Rouge regime and in the thick of a civil war with the movement's militant remnants. That is also when Krem first joined the Hun Sen bodyguards, which dispatched him to perform shows in Khmer Rouge-controlled areas to encourage defections.

"We were there to perform for the Khmer Rouge soldiers and propagandize for those soldiers to return to their motherland," he said. "We did political propaganda in our performances, and our words made them pleased."

Now that the Khmer Rouge have been eliminated, with the regime's four surviving senior leaders soon to be tried in Phnom Penh for war crimes, Krem applies his comedic talents toward ridiculing the country's rapidly shrinking political opposition. During the 2003 national election campaign, he produced and acted in a two-hour film called Mistletoe that lampooned both Prince Ranariddh and Sam Rainsy, portraying the former as a pleasure-seeking sycophant and the latter as an out-of-control meddler. In the lead-up to local elections in 2002, he created a short film that made fun of garment workers who protested in the streets for better wages.

"When the election campaign comes, we have to do a hundred percent propagandizing for ... the CPP," he said.

Koy, the stage name of Colonel Chuong Chy, a doughy, thick-featured man, is also active on behalf of the government. Of the four men in the comedy troupe that Koy leads, three of them -- including Kren, a popular comedian with dwarfism -- belong to the Prime Minister Bodyguard Unit. The fourth is an officer in the 70th Infantry Brigade of the Cambodian army, which is also closely linked to the premier and has been accused of human rights abuses.

Like Krem, Koy joined the bodyguards in the 1980s, starting out as a captain and rising to colonel two years ago in a mass promotion of entertainers. In person, he is terse and severe, rarely cracking a smile. Although he openly describes the work he does as propaganda, he insists his troupe writes all its own skits with no government input.

"We just tell people how good [Hun Sen] is, how he constructed the country, how many buildings he builds," Koy told me backstage after one of his performances, fiddling irritably with the keys to his Lexus. "Nobody tells us what to say. We just describe what we have seen- -- roads, schools, irrigation -- and make it a little bit funny."

Standing nearby was Koy's longtime friend, Colonel Chhum Bunchhoeurn of the 70th Infantry, still sporting painted-on white whiskers and eyebrows. Colonel Bunchhoeurn, best known by the stage name Banana, agreed that any political overtones to the group's comedy were totally coincidental.

"We don't have time to talk about [politics] because we're just concerned about striving to make people laugh," he said. "If we pretend to be a father, we're just concerned with being a father."
Still, in one of the troupe's recent shows, entitled "No Luck," a comedian known as Klouk (real name Lieutenant Colonel Tum Saruth), who was playing an elderly father, began talking politics almost as soon as he walked onstage.

"We just want to stay in peace, but [Thailand] does not want us to stay in peace -- they caused trouble, so now I have to go participate in the army and protect our territory from invasion," Klouk told a rapt studio audience, using exaggerated martial gestures to elicit gales of laughter.

Koul Panha, director of the Committee for Free and Fair Elections, a local NGO, said comedians such as Koy and Krem are immensely popular with Cambodian viewers, who don't always have many other entertainment options.

"It's very strange that many comedians, I mean famous comedians, become bodyguards with a military rank," he said. "People know it -- the prime minister gives public information about the comedians being bodyguards -- but they control the TV and ordinary people have no choice but to watch them."

Panha pointed out that all of Cambodia's eight TV stations are linked to the CPP in some way, creating a "very limited playing field" for opposition parties.

A decade ago, when Funcinpec was a more serious contender for power, it had its own comedian-affiliates. But as the party has dwindled over the past few years, its comedians have all defected to the CPP.

The best known of them, Lorcy, struggled for years to find work after campaigning for Funcinpec during the 2003 election season. He claimed he had been blacklisted from the airwaves and feared for his life. In 2009, he defected from Funcinpec and published an open letter of apology to Hun Sen through General Bunheang. His career immediately picked up. Krem invited him to join his troupe for a guest appearance, and now Lorcy regularly performs on two government-affiliated stations. On April 1, he became a lieutenant colonel in the bodyguard unit.

"I was really regretful of my mistake, which was why I apologized for forgiveness to be given to Samdech [Hun Sen]'s child, me," said Lorcy, using a Cambodian honorific that roughly translates as "Lord." "Samdech is a great leader. He forgave me for my mistake, which was done by accident, and I made a commitment to sacrifice my life to serve the party and Samdech."

Lorcy said he planned to devote the next stage of his career to "make and spread propaganda and send messages to people over the party's and Samdech's accomplishments."

Panha and Sochua said cases like Lorcy's showed that there was little freedom of expression for those whose views stray from the party line.

"It's a form of political discrimination," said Sochua, who noted that the comedians draw their military salaries from the national budget. "Every element that is painted as opposition is faced with this discrimination. It is a very sad state for democracy."

But Phay Siphan, a government spokesman, dismissed this criticism, saying that comedians and entertainers merely held a strong preference for the ruling party.

"Comedians can be CPP members and they do whatever they feel like doing to support the party. That's their own choice."

He said the government never dictated the content of comedy routines: "We are too busy to tell them to do this, to do that."

By all accounts, they don't need to.

"We work for the prime minister, so why should we perform for Sam Rainsy?" asked Krem. "If we eat a person's food, we have to work for that one."