On the Road Again...

With two weeks left in the semester my time here is rapidly drawing to a close. Although I'm looking forward to leaving the routine and responsibilities of teaching behind, I'm really going to miss my students and the staff at CWF. They have all been so friendly, welcoming and have taught me a great deal about Cambodian culture and history. It's a very complicated society, hierachical with strict rules of politeness- saving face really matters (to the point that it's impolite for the school staff to call students who have not paid their fees and ask them for the money), deeply superstitious, hardworking but not on western time, and above all cheerfully resilient. The older generations are survivors of atrocitities beyond imagination, but the younger generation are not taught this history in schools as some Khmer rouge leaders are still in government. They hear the stories instead from their parents and grandparents. One in three Cambodians died under the Khmer Rouge Regime, so each family has its own tragic tale.

But to focus only on the past is to deny the reality that Cambodia is doing its best to become a rapidly developing country with its eyes fixed firmly on the future. Many of my students work for NGOs, a lucrative career in this country, and others dream of setting up their own. Although in the provinces time has stood still in some villages, Phnom Penh is a very modern city, with new businesses and developments sprouting everywhere. As a foreigner, I have access to all the conveniences of home and feel quite safe wandering around on my own. I'm told that international investment, much of it from Korea, is pouring into the country. Even KFC has started hiring staff and will soon open its first Cambodian stores in the coming months.

My students tell me that the level of corruption is not as bad as it used to be, and the opposition parties are growing stronger and more numerous so that although they are unlikely to unseat the one party that has been in power since Cambodia became a 'democracy', the country is moving towards the possibility of genuine electoral choice. As more Cambodians have access to education, especially higher education, my students have better career opportunities than their parents, who were denied education under the Khmer Rouge and under French colonial rule. They are less afraid and being literate are more politically aware.

I speak of course of the growing middle class, it impossble to forget that the majority of Cambodians are still very poor, living in the slums next to the mansions, and while on each street corner there is a mobile phone shop on those same streets are home to beggars, young children selling flowers, books or food to make a living and a tragic number of 'hostess' bars, the prevalence of which is starkly incongruous with the enforced modesty and value placed on chastity in Khmer culture. My students are in their twenties and have never been kissed, or even held someone's hand. Suffice it to say, Cambodia is a land of contrasts and it would take me much longer than three months to begin to understand.

It is however, plenty of time to do a lot of shopping! Fabric of all kinds is abundant and cheap. I bought some pink cambodian silk and brought it to a tailor who made into a western dress I pointed to in a magazine. It turned out exactly as I hoped- apart from the Madonna like breast pads I might need to remove! Cambodian dresses stand up by themselves! From a different tailor I bought a ready-made Cambodian wedding dress (no, I am not getting married!) which is a fantasy of golden silk, pleats, lace and beading. Cambodian brides have the right idea. Rather than agonising over which one perfect dress to choose, they choose fifteen. Yes that's right, 15 wedding dresses! Of course the ceremony has to go a bit longer to accommodate so many outfit changes- a wedding lasts a day and a half, longer if it is a more traditional occaission. Each outfit corresponds to a different tradition, for example one dress has a long silk scarf that symbolises the tail of a water drangon princess who married a human prince, who held on to her tail so she could take him to meet her family at the bottom of the river.

Given how elaborate Khmer weddings are, its no wonder that there are so many tailors displaying beautifully coloured gown on almost every street. Amy and I were discussing some trouble she had communicating with her tailor and our cook, Thida, mentioned that she knew the best tailor shop around. It turns out that famous actresses and singers go there, have dresses made for free which they wear once and return to the shop, which then sells them. It's great publicity and people love the idea of wearing dresses commissioned by a star! I tried some on, but unfortunately the slight builds of Cambodian girls make me look like a heifer so I just couldn't squeeze myself into them, which is probably a good thing as they were quite expensive. I'm also having some suits and shirts made, and I even had some shoes hand made by a cobbler. They also will make custom belts, bags and other leather accessories. The only limit is your imagination... and you baggage allowance! I'm going to have to courier a box home, I think!

Whilst shopping for yourself, you can also support the many NGOs that support fair wages, offer training to at risk groups and foster sustainable livelihoods for whole communities. Tabitha has the largest selection of silk homewares, christmas decorations and an incredible range of childrens toys, from stuffed animals to fabric books to mobiles and games. Kravann house is my favourite place for silk scraves, Friends has funky stretchknit dresses and cute hats made by streetkids. Bloom has stunning bags made from colourful recycled plastic sacks and Peace Handicrafts has some truly unique evening bags and wallets. At each place, you know that the profits are helping people live safe dignified lives, and that your souvenir has not come at the cost of exploitation. I'm seriously considering looking into an import business...

This week we had yet another public holiday (we've had at least one every fortnight- and two last week!), this time to celebrate Independence Day, the anniversary of Cambodian independence from the French. Huge crowds gathered around the newly renovated Independence Monument, which now boasts a circle of fountains which are lit up with coloured lights at night. The military and police were present in different dress uniforms and thousands of school children in navy and white uniforms waved flags, banners and pictures of the king. We were all waiting for his Highness' presence and were not dissappointed. A friendly looking, smiling man, the King amicably shook hands with the crowd. My friend Ross was tall enough to reach out and touch him. Their eyes met, and two bald men shared a moment of understanding. Or at least that's how Ross tells the story! I myself only saw the top of his head...and his powerful eyebrows which you can see in the photo below.

The embassy has opened its doors to Aussie voters, so I will vote this week. I'm actually a little excited, I haven't voted overseas before! Luckily I know where the embassy is because it's on the same street as one of my favourite poolside bars...

My love to all at home

xoxox

Jess

Last week was our mid-semester break, which coincided with the Khmer festival of Pchum Ben. The festival lasts 15 days and centers around paying respect to deceased ancestors. The cities empty as Khmer go home to the provinces to be with their families. Together they visit the wat to bring food to the spirits of their dead relatives. Unless they are fed, the spirits cannot rest. The spirits will visit seven wats to find food and will make mischief for the surviving family members if they go hungry. They can only eat food brought by blood relatives, so everyone participates.

Molly and I started our trip in Kampot, a sleepy little riverside town near the south coast of Cambodia. There's not much to do in Kampot, except admire the ruined French architecture in the town which used to be a Khmer Rouge stronghold. The countryside is beautiful, impossibly green rice paddies stretch towards the darker green hills covered in atangle of jungle. We took a tour on the back of a moto, and visited limestone caves which were home to monkeys and bats. Four boys acted as our guides in the caves, they said they were fourteen but looked about nine, and put us to shame by the ease with which they scrambled over the very slippery steep rocks!

On our way to Kep, and it's practically non-existent beach, we visited a wat built in 1919, and were introduced to a monk who spoke very good english. Inside every wat, the story of the buddha is told in paintings on the walls and ceilings. The monk kindly explained the story to us, picture by picture, and allowed us to take photos. Later we had lunch at a different wat- as well as bringing food for their dead relatives, people also bring food for the monks and once the monks have eaten, everyone gets to eat as well. The whole community sits on the floor of the wat and shares a meal, old people, babies, even dogs!

The next day we visited Bokor Hill station, an abandoned French settlement which in its heydey in the 1920s was home to 150 families. The French evacuated during the second world war, and the town was rebuilt as the king's holiday home. He too abandoned it and it became a Khmer Rouge stronghold. Now all that is left are burnt out remains of stately buildings. The silence is heavy, almost oppressive and when the mist swirls in it is a truly ghostly place. But when the mist clears you can see all the way to the sea and as far as Vietnam.

Bokor national park is home to many animals, including tigers, bears, deer and wild pigs. Disappointingly for me, the most exciting wildlife I saw were butterflies, though that is unsuprising given the size of the park and the amount of noise we were making! Rangers set camera traps to take photos of the animals to monitor numbers and movement thoughout the park. The park rangers are understaffed and underpaid, and face enormous difficulty trying to combat poaching and illegal logging which is threatening the park's survival. Luckily an Australian NGO called WildAid seems to be doing good work, training rangers and topping up their salaries. In partnership with the Cambodian government, they hope to preserve Cambodia's gorgeous natural environment.

We then moved on to Sianoukville. The day on which we travelled was a public holiday, so there were no buses. Instead we caught a share taxi. We were lucky that they only tried to squeeze seven passengers into the normal sized sedan, three of whom were children. They did however stack the book high with bales of stuff for the market. I don't know how they managed to secure such a high load but somehow we made it safely to Sianoukville in under two hours.

Sianoukville was much busier than last time, and much more enjoyable although the accomodation was double the price we paid two weeks ago! I met some very interesting travellers, and took a boat trip to three islands to do some snorkelling. The snorkelling was average, but the water was delicious and lunch on Bamboo island divine! I was sorry to come home!

This week is my fifth week of teaching so I am at the halfway point! Time has flown so quickly already! Miss you all heaps, my love to all at home, and good luck to everyone doing exams!

xoxox Jess

Aaargh! Upload speeds here are so slow it is ridiculous. Sometimes I can't even send a plain text message. Ok, so on my third trip to an internet cafe I think I will admit that I can't upload photos to my blog OR my email OR Facebook! So frustrating!
Last week we said goodbye to Alice, an English volunteer who has been working to help CWF get up and running for a year. For her farewell, all the staff and volunteers went on a daytrip to Kirrirum National Park.
Kirrirum National Park is only a few hours drive south of Phnom Penh, but because it is a bit of a trek from the main roads it is really only doable by private transport. Luckily we had the numbers to hire a minibus, apparently borrowed form one of the many private international schools in Phnom Penh. It was a bit of a squeeze to fit all of us, plus a picnic and beachbags, and the suspension left a lot to wish for as we hurtled at breakneck speeds along dirt roads.
The national park itself is gently moutainous, rolling hills and valleys covered with tropical forest and grasses...and somewhat unexpectedly, pine trees. I'm told they were brought by French colonials, and that this park is the only place where you can see a pine forest in Cambodia.
A river runs through the park. We had our picnic in one of many little wooden huts dotted alongside the water, where there were small waterfalls and gentle rapids. Lots of Khmer has come for a day trip too, it looked like a school excursion, and in typical Khmer style they were gallivanting in the water fully dressed. Modesty is taken very seriously in this country, at a minimum you swim in shorts to your knees and a tshirt with sleeves, but some of these kids swam in long pants and business shirts! It looked terribly uncomfortable! But much more attractive that the fat, white middleaged western men who tried to make their budgie smugglers look decent with a sarong!
After only a few hours we had to make the windy trek back to the main road where Amy, Ross, Sue and I were collected by the bus to Sianoukville where we checked into the Cool Bananas guest house. For only US$4 per night, I had my own little bungalow with a double bed, bathroom, fan and cable TV. The accents on the Australia channel already sounded very strong to my ear!
We stayed near Serendipity beach. It is very touristy, with both Western and Khmer visitors. Bars and guesthouses line the beach, and roving salespeople try to sell you everything from jewellry, massage, paintings to sunglasses and fresh seafood. You can even get you legs waxed on the spot, using a special string. Very clever! The children are particularly pushy, so even if you find yourself a secluded loungechair, it is unlikely that you will read more than a few pages at a time in peace!
As it was low season, there were not as many backpackers as usual, but there were plenty of very odd western expats, mostly men, and seemingly the kind of people who would not fit easily into normal society. With their western money they can buy themselves a small empire, run a bar, a guesthouse or brothel, drink themselves into oblivion and then go home to a Cambodian wife half their age. There are many sad stories of exploitation, particularly of women and children. Being a tourist hotspot that darkness was particularly apparent.
It rained the next morning, in a torrential tropical downpour that convinced Sue and I that our plan to take a boat to Bamboo Island probably wasn't worth it. Luckily it fined up by midday, but then I succumbed to the flu-like head cold that has been working its way through all of us volunteers and had to spend the rest of the weekend in bed! So much for my beach holiday!
I am well recovered now and back to the usual grind of teaching, which of course I love! Classes are going well, I am amazed that I am in my fourth week already! Attendance is erratic, if it rains no-oncomes, so a few of my evening classes have been cancelled. Sometimes just one student comes which is either laborious or interesting depending on how chatty they are.
Last Saturday (the beach holiday was the weekend before last), Sue and I went to see a shadow puppet play. Shadow puppetry a favourite traditional khmer art form, which has existed for centuries. As the master of ceremonies succcinctly explained, there are three kinds of shadow puppet in Cambodia: big, small and coloured. All are cut from leather and suspended on sticks. People operate the puppets from behind a white screen. It was amazing how lifelike and full of personality each puppet became!
The performance was in khmer, but they gave us a little handout in english explaining the stories. One was a fight between a black monkey and a white monkey, the next was a skit about two country hicks who rode their buffalos into Phnom Penh and brawled with eachother until they were stopped by a policeman. Of course the buffalos were brawling too! The final item was about a crocodile spirit who kidnapped a girl and eventually married her after many arguments with her father. It was a bit over my head, but there were many children in the audience, who were rolling about with laughter, so I am sure the jokes were good!
Starting this weekend, I am on holidays for nine days as there is a national festival in respect of deceased ancestors. Most people go home to the provinces during this time. Molly and I are thinking of going to Kampot to visit the abandoned Bokor Hill station in a national park, and the quaint beachside town of Kep.
I hope everyone is well at home, my love to all!
xoxo Jess
PS Di, I met up with Melissa, who is lovely! Thank you for putting me in touch with her!

Yay! I have survived almost two whole weeks of teaching. And amazingly enough, it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. The students are very keen to learn, and luckily very easily persuaded to play endless games of chinese whispers, pictionary and never ever. Even my 50 year old students are willing to play!
My day starts at 5am when I get up, have first breakfast (boring toast) and prepare for my first set of classes which run from 6:30 to 8:30. Then it's home for second breakfast (interesting asian pastries or noodles with fried egg), preparation for my evening classes and a little bit of laundry, a visit to the internet or some quality reading time before lunch at 12. We have an extensive library of DVDs and books that people have left behind, ranging fom trashy romances to historical treatises and everthing in between. Yesterday I finished reading "Dear John", a heartbreaking romance by the author of the Notebook, and earlier this week I finished "The Historian", a very cleverly written and exsensively researched mystery/adventure novel about the Dracula myth. It's so nice to have time to read!
After lunch I am a free woman until my classes start again at 4. We like to take a Tuk tuk to Elsewhere bar, where there is a pool surrounded by lush ferns and palms, and large wooden beds to lounge on. The Russian market is within walking distance from the volunteer house, so it is easy to pop down to admire the silk stalls, pick up some tailored clothes (I had a lovely pair of trousers made up for $5) or bargain for some really cheap t-shirts ($2.50 sounds about right!).
I am the first to finish class at 7 and by that time I am utterly exhausted. My students and the staff at the school always want to chat so it is usually 7:30 by the time that I manage to escape and get home for a shower before having dinner with the others, swapping life stories, teaching tips and playing cards. For a while Alice and I were obsessed with a dodgy american series called Bones about a forensic anthropologis who solves murder mysteries, but having finished the season's DVD we will have to find something new to amuse us! We are slowly adjusting to the early starts, and yesterday found the energy to go to the one pub near the house that isn't a brothel and catch up with some of the past volunteers. Who knew eating peanuts with chopsticks could be so much fun!
On Friday, the rain was so heavy that we had to cancel classes. None of my students came, wisely avoiding the flooded roads. We waited at the school just in case, until the power went out, and we skipped merrily home and ordered pizza in celebration. Mmmmm cheese! We were a little concerned that our pizza may be drugged, as we ordered it from a place called Ecstatic Pizza, which, like all pizza shops around here, have a few special ingredients- weed for happy pizzas and opium on ecstatic pizzas... but despite some confusion over the phone they did manage to deliver two very ordinary pizzas which we devoured with relish.
On the weekend Sue and I went to Tuol Sleng, or S21, a highschool which was turned into the most notorious of the Khmer Rouge's death camps. Harrowing does not begin to descibe seeing the still bloodstained rooms, torture implements and chains. Paintings of scenes of torture and imprisonment by artist who was one of the seven survivors of the death camp give an evocative impression of the horrors that went on. Most heartrending are the thousands of photos of the victims, men, women and children who were tortured into making hundreds of pages of imaginary confessions then clubbed to death at the nearby killing fields. These photographs are all that remain of them, as their skeltons are unlikely to ever be identified.
The torturers themselves were also victims. Some were children, brutalised and warped by abuse. Others were forced to participate for fear of their families being killed. Their photographs have been defaced by Khmer visitors, who understandably hold bitter anger against all who worked in this terrible place. A documentary about a husband and wife who were both killed at S21 is screened twice daily, and through their tragic love story, explains the pain, fear and horror suffered by the Khmer throughout Cambodia as families were ripped apart, neighbours turned against eachother and human beings became monsters. It is a truly tragic place.
Feeling we needed some cheering up, and some spicier food, we went to a Pakistani restaurant owned by an Australian called Monsoon- the restaurant that is- and ended up listening to a soulful Japanese singer croon ballads which he accompanied with a guitar, harmonica and little bells around his ankle. It didn't matter that we could not understand the words, his music was exquisite. It was very random, but satisfying evening which illustrated the mulitcultural blend that is Phnom Penh.
Next week is the first of several long weekends this semester. Cambodians have a lot of festivals and it seems I came at the right time to catch lots of them! I and the other volunteers are heading to Sianoukville, which is apparently Cambodia's answer to Noosa, an idyllic but touristy beachspot where many expats spend their weekend. On the way we will visit a national park with a gorgeous waterfall, and have a picnic there with some of the CWF staff to farewell Alice, an English volunteer who has been helping set up the organisation for the last year.
Much love to all!
Jess xoxo

Well, it has been a busy week. On Monday, Sue and I visited the National Museum which houses a plethora of ancient buddhas, hindu stone carvings, leather shadow puppets, stone age artefacts and pieces from many wats including Angkor. The stories represented in the statues and carving were fascinating, but my understanding of buddhist and hindu culture is too limited for me to have appreciated them fully. Perhaps I will go back with a guide...

Strangely enough, I enjoyed seeing the museum building itself probably more than the exhibits. Phnom Penh is dusty, dry and dirty city which is almost devoid of green, even alongside the river. The only plants you see are in other people's rooftop gardens. The museum is built around a central garden with lotus flowers floating in pools of water surrounding a buddha in a pavillion. It was a veritable oasis of calm and Sue and I enjoyed lingering in this cool sanctuary away from the bustle of Phnom Penh.

After visiting the museum, we walked to Riverside and enjoyed a massage at an NGO which trains blind people in massage so that they can support themselves. For only US$5 you can enjoy an hour long massage knowing that your indulgence
is not only doing good for you but helping someone live with dignity. So much more fun and sustainable than giving to the many beggars on the streets. We have been told not to give money to child beggars or buy from the many children who roam the streets selling food and souvenirs because it encourages adults to exploit them. However, it is appropriate to give small amounts to older women as there is no support for them from the government and their men have probably all been killed. It is very sad to see the many landmine victims begging, and I give to them too.

Monks dressed in orange robes also roam the streets asking for donations. They carry matching orange umbrellas and often have a lesser monk who asks for money for them. I'm told that almost all Cambodian men serve as monks for a short while at some time during their life. I did not quite understand the Khmer person who was explaining this to me, but it sounded like when someone in the family dies, sons have to go and be a monk to thank their mother for giving birth to them. In any case, they truly are a striking sight!

On Wednesday we set off for Kratie to visit the CRDT office and see the projects that they are working on. CRDT is the development agency that the money raised by our teaching helps support. The bus trip was long but relatively comfortable, until the airconditioning malfunctioned and it began raining inside the bus and then the bus itself broke down. We waited in the heat on the side of the road for a while before the driver announced that the problem was fixed, but could all the men please push the bus to get it started? In no time we were on our way again and arrived in Kartie without any further dramas.

At CRDT they told us more about the organisation and the projects. It is a very young organisation, having been founded only a few years ago by a group of students. The average age of staff is 27 and many of them are younger. It is so inspiring to see my peers doing such fantastic work. Their flagship project is called Dolphins for Development: A chance of survival. In partnership with the WWF they are trying to save the Irrawaddy dolphin. Of the 1000s of dolphins that used to live in the Mekong, there are now less than a hundred left. The mortality rate is 20%, and disturbingly many of these deaths are newborn calves. If nothing is done, the dolphins will be extinct in the next decade.

The dolphins are not the only amazing creature feared to be nearing extinction in the Mekong. We were shown pictures of giant catfish and freshwater stingrays a metre wide. These are only a few of the species found only in Cambodia, and now rearely seen. We were very lucky to see four dolphins feeding that morning, the river was high and wide, nearly a kilometre accross. It is much easier to see them in the dry season when they are restricted to a series of deep pools that have a more constant temperature and a good supply of fish. They were very quick though, and nearly impossible to take photo of!

There are many stories about how the irrawaddy dolphin came to be. In one a god fell in love with a village girl who was praying at a shrine to forest spirits. He turned himself into an enourmous snake and seduced her. They were married, and he brought good luck to her family. Another man wanted his family to prosper also and married his daughter to a snake too. Unfortunately this snake was just a snake and not a god. They left the daughter alone with her new husband, and she was swallowed whole. Her parents were worried by the silence from the newly-wed's room, so they rushed in and her father cut the snake open to free her. She was so embarrassed that she put a pot on her head and dove into the Mekong, where she drowned and turned into a dolphin. I think this is meant to explain the strange blocky heads of the dolphins, which look more like submarines or grey logs than the saltwater dolphins we are all familiar with.

We then drove further along the river and took another boat to an island at which CRDT has based one of their project officers. We were shown fish ponds where farmers were being encouraged to grow their own fish to decrease pressure on wild stocks and provide an alternative to using drag nets that snare dolphins. They are also being taught to raise ducks, frogs, chickens and pigs to supplement their diet and income. They are also being helped to build rainwater tanks and combustion tanks that convert animal waste into methane which is piped to the houses for cooking and lighting. Building proper toliets is another important project which will reduce disease and pollution of the river.

We stayed the night at the village, sharing a meal of curried frog and fish stew with the village leaders before joining the community at a party. The part was a somewhat uncomfortable experience, when we arrived they put on western music and asked us to dance. After awkwardly shuffling round for a few songs we sat down and said to our khmer friends that we wuold prefer to try Cambodian dancing. The music was changed and they taught us some steps, but the community did not join us but stood around the edges gawking at us. I felt like a monkey at the zoo! We sat down again and eventually one of the village leaders got up and spoke to everyone explaining that this was a party for everyone and that everyone, not just the foreigners had to dance. I don't know what else he said, but it worked and soon there was a crowd of young villagers joining us on the dancefloor, dancing traditional khmer dances, walking in a cicle with flowing hands, bouncing to western music and having a great time!

On Sunday I went to a Wat to be blessed. Outside I bought an offering of tea, sugar and incense. I lit three incense sticks and knelt before a huge display of buddhas to make my wish or prayer. Then I went and lay my offering before the presiding monk and waited on my knees for him to call me forward to present the offering to him. He took the offering and blessed it, and tied a red cotton bracelet around my wrist. We then went around the back of the wat and changed into a sarong. There was a separate place for men and women, and both were screened from eachother. We waited on stone benches until the monk came outside and pelted us with buckets of water from big stone urns for about ten minutes whilst he chanted blessings. The stream of water was so heavy I felt like I'd had a firehose turned on me. An impressive effort for a rather skinny looking monk with only a small bucket!

I have to run to class now, my love to all!

xoxo Jess