Have I mentioned that I have an actual job?

     As you may remember, I had a volunteer position as a clinic manager for the first few months we were here, which ended rather badly. After a few weeks of basking in my free time, then another few weeks of wallowing in inertia, another opportunity came along that started as a volunteer position and has turned into an actual paid job.

     My new role is part-time “Health Advisor” for the Assessment Center of World Hope International here in Siem Reap. World Hope does a number of things in a number of countries, but here in Cambodia their work is focused on providing shelter and assessment for young girls who have been victims of sex trafficking and/or sexual assault. The shelter here can house up to a dozen girls age 5-17, who stay for a short time while their needs are assessed and future longer-term plans can be made. Some of them return to their families, and some go on to long-term shelters where they might get vocational training or other opportunities. They have a similar shelter in Phnom Penh that has been operating for six years, and the Siem Reap center has been open for about a year.

     Referrals come from the police, hospitals, government “social workers” and other NGOs, and the girls come from provinces near and far. This first year of operation has been focused on capacity building and training staff, primarily counselors, social workers, and the housemothers who provide care to the girls 24 hours a day in 12-hour shifts. As is the case all over Cambodia, finding qualified staff is a challenge. There aren’t actually any trained Khmer social workers as we define them in the west, as the first school of social work only opened in 2009. The only other Western employee here works extraordinarily hard to train staff and she has a wealth of experience doing similar work in several countries. She will be leaving here in June, and I know I will miss her immensely.

     My role is to go to the shelter twice a week for a couple of hours each time to provide training and education to the housemothers, maintain appropriate medications and first aid supplies, put some systems into place for monitoring health, be available to assess girls who get sick so they can get appropriate care, and generally provide health consultation. They have a Khmer doctor who fills this role in Phnom Penh, but I am the first to do this here, so we’re still defining my role a bit as it evolves. The amazing thing is that I’m being paid $15/hour, which is a small fortune here. (Consider this comparison: a teacher working in a government school makes $30-40 per month for working half days six days per week.) I’m scheduled for only four hours per week, but there will be times when I work more than that – we will do some staff trainings in the coming weeks, and other needs may arise over time.

    

     The health aspect of this job is very basic stuff. Several girls have had the chicken pox over the last couple of weeks, so educating housemothers about what that is, how to treat the fever and itching, and how to recognize if it’s turning into something more serious has been the focus. Any experienced mother in America could do the same thing with no special training, but Cambodian knowledge about basic health issue is so limited that coaching the staff how to recognize a child who doesn’t feel well and how to take their temperature and treat a fever is where we have to start. The housemothers are all very caring and lovely women, some of whom have children themselves and some who do not. A few of them speak some English, but as usual, the language gap presents challenges. I have a friend translating some of the information we’ve discussed into Khmer so we can build a book of health resources for them to refer to. We also have access to the Khmer edition of a wonderful resource book, “Where There Is No Doctor” and some of the future health trainings can make good use of that as well.

     The girls themselves are delightful. Right now, they range in age from 5 – 14 years old. While they’ve experienced trauma of some sort (or several sorts), most of the time you wouldn’t notice anything unusual about them. They attend school and counseling on-site, and in their free time they do arts and crafts and play games. They are engaging and animated and they like to play with my stethoscope. The little ones are always happy for a lap to sit in and some individual attention, the older ones enjoy a good game of badminton, and they all practice their English with me if they know any. If they don’t speak any English, they just chatter at me in Khmer or imitate my English with great amusement. Sometimes I stay for lunch and enjoy the wonderful food prepared by the cooks. Overall, it’s a pretty fine job!

     I do find that it’s sometimes a challenge to remember that my role is limited to health-related issues. All my years of doing VNA work – which is based on a social work model and involves holistic family assessments – means that I want to know more about the girls and their families than is probably necessary. When I learned that the staff have weekly case meetings to discuss each girl, I was desperately wishing I could attend. As I said, we’re still defining my role, and old habits die hard.

   

     I’ve spent a lot of time lately reading materials that will help me learn more about trafficking issues. Not exactly light reading, but very enlightening. I read a long report recently titled “Forensic Medical and Legal Aspects of Child Sexual Abuse Investigations” which outlines some of the challenges very matter-of-factly: While a forensic medical exam is required for every victim of child sexual abuse, there is no one in the country actually trained to perform such an exam. They have a medical form for such investigations, but some of the anatomy is mislabeled or absent. The police, who are responsible for making referrals for such exams, often don’t do so because of budget restraints – they often do their job without pens, paper, phones and gas for their vehicles, so transporting a victim and paying for a medical exam is impossible.  Never mind that some families’ coping mechanism for the shame of their daughter’s rape is to have their daughter marry the perpetrator. There’s a long way to go here, but there are lots of organizations and people working hard on the issue. I will do my best to do my tiny little part.

     For obvious reasons, I can’t include any photos in this entry. The location of the shelter is a closely-guarded secret and protecting the girls’ identities is most important of all. Trust me – they’re beautiful children.

Let there be tomatoes!

     I have made several attempts to grow things in pots on the balcony, with mixed results. Sunflowers grow quite well - some made it to well over five feet tall - as do zinnias. Marigolds never germinated, which I can't figure out at all - any self-respecting American five-year-old can grow marigolds in a paper cup in time for Mother's Day, for crying out loud! Nasturtiums won't germinate either, which I do understand, as they can be stubborn anywhere even after you rough up the hard shell of the seed and soak them for a while.

     Tomatoes have been a mixed bag. Twice I have started cherry tomatoes that grew to a couple of feet tall and even started to blossom, but then one by one, they wilted and died. There have been many theories - too much water, not enough water; too much fertilizer, not enough fertilizer. Ask any local for their opinion about why my tomato plants died and they will be quick and confident with their response, though not consistent with each other. So who knows?

     This week, I seem to have reached a new level of success. I have a large pot with three sturdy beefsteak tomato plants. They're not quite as dark green as I would like, and there are some light spots on some of the lower leaves, but they've blossomed, and this morning I noticed the first actual tomato has appeared. I will be looking at it obsessively all day, I'm sure.

     It's not like I can't buy tomatoes here - the markets are full of fresh, cheap produce - it's just that I've been craving something tastier than the run-of-the-mill standard Cambodian tomato. Many Cambodian dishes include green tomatoes, which I just don't care for, and even the ripe tomatoes are often barely so. I want red, juicy, still-warm-from-the-sun tomatoes, and I want to pick them myself. I want meaty plum tomatoes, bite-sized sweet cherry tomatoes, and funky-shaped and odd-colored heirloom tomatoes. But I'd settle for some good old beefsteak tomatoes if I can grow them myself.

     I'll keep you posted.

     And while I'm home in May, I'll be happy to take any leftover tomato or pepper seeds that anyone has lying around. Steve and I grew some amazing hot peppers during one particularly hot Vermont summer a few years ago, and we'd love to do it again in what appears to be the perfect climate for such an endeavor.

     Happy gardening, everyone.

What's wrong with this picture?

Cop, on a motorbike.

No helmet.

Baby in a basket on front.

This very nicely symbolizes some of what's crazy about this place that I love.

3 Hungarians, 2 Americans, and a Latvian walk into a bar....

     Immediately after our friends Alison, Willa, and Julian left late on a Friday night, we left the next morning for our first “vacation” since arriving in Cambodia. It was a busy and enjoyable week with our friends Andras and Eszter, and their  friends Gabor and Olga. Three Hungarians, two Americans and a Latvian (and our two Khmer drivers), ranging in age from 27 to 59, were off on a week-long trip to two fascinating but far-flung destinations in Cambodia.

Vacation time!!!

     We met up in Phnom Penh, and then went to Mondulkiri, a more remote province in the east bordering Vietnam. It was a refreshing change to be in the mountains, where the temperatures are cooler and the tourists are fewer and further between. The drive there was about 8 hours from Phnom Penh, with the last portion on a newly-built national road that will surely invite throngs of tourists to visit there in the coming years. The ride passed nicely with all the usual interesting Cambodians views along the way – rice paddies, stilted homes, small village markets, interesting but relatively sparse traffic. It was generally uneventful except for an hour or so before our destination when we came upon the aftermath of a moto accident. Two motorbikes and five people lay in the otherwise empty road. Another guy had already stopped and everyone was quickly loaded into the bed of his pick-up truck to be taken to a hospital somewhere. They were all pretty banged up. It was a stark reminder of the fact that traffic accidents are the number cause of accidental death on Cambodia now that landmines are less of a risk than they used to be.

Our bungalow

     We stayed in recently-built bungalows built by a Khmer man who had lived in Hungary for 12 years. The room was clean and comfortable with cable TV and hot water; no need for a/c since the weather was so much cooler in Mondulkiri. At $8 a night, the price was perfect. We especially loved the "NO SMORKING" sign in our room. We decided it covered both smoking and snoring. The town itself offered three restaurants, a tiny supermarket, and many signs for tour companies offering elephant rides, trekking, and motorbike trips.

The main drag in Mondulkiri

This appeared to be the only other street in town

     We rode elephants – probably on the same day that people back home in Vermont were digging out from yet another winter storm. We rode through cashew orchards and stands of giant bamboo, with views of slash-and-burn agriculture and traditional Bunong hilltribe homes. After a leisurely picnic lunch, the elephants took a bath in the river and some of us joined in.

Steve looked like he might go overboard, but he managed not to.
The ride was bumpy, to say the least. I was wishing for a La-Z-Boy strapped to the elephant's back.

The youngest elephant handler.
Apparently each elephant is owned by several families and is their family business.

Steve jumped right into the water Khmer-style in his underwear to join the elephant for a bath.
(I did too, but without removing my outer layer of clothing.)
Note our driver, posing enthusiastically at the head of the elephant. This was his pose in every single photo.

Traditional Bunong homes, with a typical Khmer stilted house on the left,
as well as the spirit house in the foreground.

Slash, burn, plant, harvest, repeat.

     We saw avocado trees – this province is apparently one of the only places in Cambodia where they grow – and spent some time at a coffee plantation where they grow all kinds of fruit (in addition to the coffee.) We wondered how this part of the country might look in the green season, because at this time of year everything is dry and coated with a layer of thick red dust with columns of smoke rising from the rolling hills.

Bananas beginning to form inside their enormous flower.

This must be glorious in the green season...

     The following day, we visited a beautiful waterfall where all the other “tourists” were Khmer , and some of them were renting traditional hill tribe clothing to put on and have their picture taken in front of the waterfall. It reminded me of American families who visit those photo booths at county fairs to dress up in old-style Western garb and pose for a sepia-toned family portrait. Who was the very first person who came up with this idea? And do they do it all over the world? I know they do it for foreign tourists in many places, but how many countries do it within their own countries dressed as people from their own history? And if the Khmers dress up as their own indigenous people, why do we dress up as Cowboys and not Native Americans? (OK, is that the currently correct term: Native Americans?) Do white Australians dress up as Aboriginals for photos?

Khmer tourists in their rented costumes

  Locals enjoying a picnic at the waterfall.
The lady on the right is smoking something pretty impressive-looking,

The senior members of the group

Eszter and Andras

Olga and Gabor

              In the evenings, much beer and palinka (a Hungarian spirit) was consumed and luckily for us, the common language among all present was English with occasional detours into Hungarian. Overall, we thoroughly enjoyed our three nights in Mondulkiri and hope to return.

     From there,  we made a very long drive to Sihanoukeville on the coast, where we stayed just one night before heading off to a tantalizingly-named place called “Lazy Beach” on Koh Rong Samloen island. Sihanoukeville is exactly what you’d expect if you anticipated a beach town full of young tan tattooed tourists, a main drag lined with bars and restaurants, little shops selling flotation devices (though here the choice was mostly limited to those inflatable rings with animal heads that you might buy for $3 at Walmart), and tuktuks lining the road on both sides looking for business. We rolled into town with no reservations but found a nice little centrally-located hotel and splurged for $20/night, enjoying the brief luxury of wifi in the room. The next morning we spent a bit over two hours on a boat to get to the island. There were three Khmer crew, the six of us and another half dozen tourists. The wooden boat was big enough for all of us and our luggage, but limited in amenities. The ocean was full of gentle swells that seemed to get steadily bigger as we chugged along. At one point we were rising and falling enough that someone’s backpack went overboard and we had to go back for it. Everyone but me felt quite seasick, Steve worst of all, but we made it and were quickly distracted by the beautiful blue-green water, the light sand beach, and our roomy thatched-roof bungalows with hammocks on the front porches facing directly to the beach. The plan while here for two nights was to swim, nap, eat, drink and generally be lazy, and I would say that we all quite successful.

Absolutely worth the crazy boat trip.

Such balance...

This will do nicely.

We did take a “hike” through the jungle (it was really just a pleasant 25-minute walk ) to another beach with powdery white sand that squeaked when you walked on it. I’m not generally a big beach person, and have limited experience with tropical beaches other than Costa Rica, but I must say that it was beautiful. The water was clear and just the right temperature for swimming and there were a few crabs and shells and other oddities to appreciate along the beach. 

     We watched and listened to hornbills in the trees, heard but never saw monkeys, played quite a few games of Uno, enjoyed the delicious seafood and drinks at the restaurant, spent lots of time in hammocks, and generally basked in the feeling of being on an almost-deserted island doing almost nothing. It was relaxing and only slightly tinged with sadness knowing that we would soon be saying goodbye yet again to friends when we had to leave.

Hornbill

We celebrated Gabor's 28th birthday at Lazy Beach.

     That Saturday morning, we took the boat back to Sihanoukeville and drove to Phnom Penh where we said our sad goodbyes to good friends. Olga and Gabor were excellent company and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying their first trip to Cambodia. We’ve known Eszter and Andras since we arrived last August and have enjoyed many happy evenings with them in Siem Reap. I felt privileged to be invited along on this trip with “the kids” – and while I was well aware of the age differences, it didn’t  feel like it really mattered. Many promises have been made to see each other again – next time in Budapest!

Goodbye for now -
See you in Budapest!

Where are we headed next?
Vermont, of course - May 4th!

Visitors from Vermont!

     Before Steve and I left Vermont, we would amuse ourselves by making lists of friends and family who we thought might come to visit. So far, our only visitors from home are those who never made the list. Jaz’s friend Jeffrey came just after Christmas, and then our friend Alison and two of her children, Julian and Willa, came in late February for a couple of weeks. It was great! Let me just say that we LOVE having visitors, and we promise to do our best to show you a good time. (I hope Alison and the kids would vouch for that.)

Willa, Alison, tour guide/friend Rethy, and Julian in the rice paddy.

     Alison, Julian and Willa were fantastic guests. First, I have to thank Alison for her incredible generosity. She went through our "wish list" of things people could bring and brought practically everything on it! They came loaded with everything from Pop Tarts to art supplies, as well as sheets, deodorant, my favorite pens, Macaroni & Cheese, chocolate, magazines, books, newspapers, and a set of insulated drinking glasses I’ve been lusting after, and we are thoroughly enjoying every bit of it. We ordered some things online and had them sent to her house and she schlepped all that stuff for us too. We were overwhelmed and grateful. (She also took home Jaz’s tax returns and financial aid and college applications to mail.) We did our best to make it all worth their while by trying to show them the best that Siem Reap has to offer.

Julian and Sovann in the driveway

     It was fun to have kids in the house, and to see everything through someone else’s eyes for the first time. They were all up for doing and seeing  anything and everything. They all squeezed into our guest room without complaint. (We had to kick out our house-mate Richard while they were here, which he didn’t mind.) The kids get along with each other amazingly well – Julian is an active, animated and soccer-obsessed ten-year-old (he reminded us a lot of Skyler at that age) and Willa is a tolerant and patient older sister. Alison, who is a documentary film-maker, saw potential films everywhere she went, and made me green with envy with her iPad and iPhone and excellent camera skills. She put together a short video for the PLF to use on their website about their experience at Koh Ker, and the kids made good use of their Flip mini video cameras as well.

     I loved their spirit of adventure. They all went to school with Steve at least once to volunteer in his classroom, as well as visiting one of the PLF schools one afternoon to hang out in the library and draw with the kids. Willa sat in on an English class there, which is always an interesting experience. Alison paid for lunch for 200+ kids at the most remote PLF-sponsored school in Koh Ker, so they all spent a day driving there and then chopping vegetables and serving food to kids who desperately need a good meal whenever they can get it. They visited temples – Angkor Wat, Bayon, Ta Prohm, Beanteay Srey, Koh Ker, Beng Melea, and more. They rode elephants. They went to Kulen Mountain to swim at the waterfall and we all spent a Sunday afternoon at the island in the middle of the West Baray (reservoir) lying in hammocks and watching Julian play soccer with the local kids who usually spend their day hoping to sell trinkets to tourists. We went to the Old Market, the Night Market, the supermarket, and Psar Leu (the big local market.) They visited the Silk Farm and Artisans d’Angkor. We went to Kompong Khleang fishing village and out on the Tonle Sap Lake, where Julian drove the boat for a while. We ate Burmese food, Thai food , Khmer food, familiar food, and strange unidentified food cooked along the side of the road. (Sticky rice and beans cooked in bamboo was a hit, but no one really wanted to try the frogs.) Many trips were made to the Blue Pumpkin bakery for breakfast pastries. Julian played soccer several evenings with a group of young local men. Alison and I visited several wats in town with our former-monk friend Yeum. Willa and Julian got fish massages, and Willa and Jaz and I got foot massages. Alison and the kids tolerated a very loud and long-lasting goodbye party that we hosted for our Hungarian friends before they left Siem Reap, and they spent a few afternoons enjoying the swimming pool at the hotel down the lane from us. They did it all with smiles and enthusiasm.

All-you-can-eat BBQ - you cook it yourself at your table.
It's kind of fun, but having hot coals at the table is a sweaty experience.

Willa masters the art of Cambodian BBQ

Sticky rice in bamboo - one of my local favorites,
and the kids liked it too.

Kompong Khleang - always good for interesting photos.

While all the other kids in Cambodia wave and say, "Hello!"
the kids in this village always wave and say, "Bye bye!"
I have no idea why.

Imagine this village with water up to the floorboards.

It's a fish-based economy

If you need some smoked fish, I know where you can buy some.

Julian and Sophearin

Everyone involved in our Kompong Khleang visit: Rethy, the driver of our van, the boat driver, his brother,
the two boys who help out on the boat and the girl who sold Willa a bracelet.

Yeum fills us in on the life of Buddha

A "fish massage" is always good for laughs!

Julian and his local team

I learned more about rice harvesting than I had known before

Off to the temples in Panha's tuktuk

  Most of this was made possible by our Khmer friends who facilitated, drove, translated, and guided us all. Thanks to Rithy (tour guide extraordinaire), Yeum, Panha (their regular tuktuk driver as Sovann was already booked most of the time they were here), Alin (who arranged the soccer games), Ponheary, Sophearin (the boat driver) and his crazy monk brother who stopped by one evening, and any number of others who contributed to our experiences. We are so lucky to have so many people here who are eager to help us show visitors a good time. We thanked them all with a party at 60 Road (the roadside carnival and BBQ that goes on every night on the outskirts of town) on one of their last nights. (Well, to be clear, Alison paid for dinner, so she thanked them.)

     It was sad to bring them to the airport and say goodbye. (We’ve found that living here means we have to say goodbye to people far more often than we’d like, but that may be a topic for another post.) We were saved from post-visitor depression by the fact that we left the next day for our own adventure, but now that we’re back, I still miss them having them here.

     So, who's coming next??? Book your room now, folk - the schedule is wide open!