| Wednesday, May 30, 2007 |
| Angkor Wat |
 Last day in Siem Reap... cue the tears! Also cue sweat dripping everywhere, because it was so freaking hot. And then cue a torrential downpour just before we made it back to the hostel. We met one of the 4th grade classes from the PEPY Ride school, and set off for our grand temple tour. Above is Bayon, which is my favorite. There are faces everywhere, which are assumed to be of Buddha, but the guide said they were actully of Brahma. (I think.) From there we went to lunch at a buffet near Angkor Wat, and then headed inside. Our guide again this year was Ta, which is a nickname that means "old man", and he's a rockstar. In Cambodia, it's considered lucky to let hairs grow from a mole, so he must be the luckiest man alive.
  Rocky and Snoopy, doing what we do best... being dorks.
 Our buddies, their teachers, Santa/Hoes/Sean/D, and the most famous temple skyline ever.
 Nozomi/Shinky with some of the kids, watching the unfolding amazement that was "Token Boy lying on his back and singing love songs to the adoring crowd." It turns out he was singing Unchained Melody (not Whitney Houston) but I couldn't hear very well over the screams of laughter. Sean is going for a PhD in Global Poverty next year, which is so awesome. We were all talking one night about volunteer movements and social change needing to go from so many different directions, and how our trip fits into all of that. If we all just come and volunteer for a few days and then do nothing to continue that spirit in our own lives and communities, then our work is not sustained and doesn't make anything but surface change. But when we are then inspired to go into education or economics or business or medicine with the motivation to change the existing structures of inequality in the developing/developed worlds, we have so much more power to actually affect long-term change. Gambarimasu.
 GQ: Angkor edition.
 This guy just put away his cell phone into his monk-purse (monkurse? monketbook?) as I snapped this.
 Brady Bunching: Snoopy, Ebi-chan, Risa, Glamalie, Gyoza, Birdie, Rocky, Token Boy, Shinky, Sakana no Hito. |
posted by Raychaa @ 10:33 PM  |
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| Thursday, May 24, 2007 |
| To Siem Reap! |
 Mmm. Roadside insect stands on the bus ride to Siem Reap. First, you pull off the wings... and then the pinchers...
 Glamalie and a snackie (exhibit 1 of my "Sean looking suspicious in the background" photo series). I claimed that bugs fall outside the parameters of my vegetarian ideals. Ideals, mind you, which are already severely compromised by the "fish are swimming vegetables..." theory. By that logic, cicadas are just potato chips with legs. I'm not principled, I'm a wimp. GO GLAM!
 The next morning in Siem Reap, D and Amy/Ebi-chan headed out to the PEPY Ride school to check things out and rescue some books from rat infestation. Ebi-chan, already famous for courting disaster with her prawn-choking, managed to break her bicycle and get caught in a rainstorm. Oh, little Ebi...
 The rest of us went for a 2-hour tuk-tuk ride to Beng Melaea. It's very jungly, uncrowded, and fun for climbing. Maybe someday it'll be roped off and guarded due to the danger, plus probable damage that tourist cause, but in the meantime... HI MONKEY!
 Was followed by a return to Siem Reap, Mexican food, excessive snacking on European chocolate with Sarah back at Earthwalkers, and somewhat awful Cambodian-fusion dinner at a restaurant we had much higher hopes for. We hit up the night market, bought silk products made by women at Sangkheum Center (home we built at in '06), got freaked out by sketchy men hanging around the ATM, Birdie and Sean bought out a dirty mini-mart of all their durian and jackfruit snacks, and then we went home. All in all... a very good day. |
| posted by Raychaa @ 1:03 PM |
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| Wednesday, May 23, 2007 |
| Cambodian Children's Fund |
 We returned to the same children's home/school/orphanage-- Cambodian Children's Fund. It was started by a man named Scott who was an executive in the Hollywood film industry, came to Cambodia, fell in love with the country and the kids, struggled to find a way to give some of these kids a chance at better education and opportunities, and ended up moving to Phnom Penh to start his own foundation. Most of the kids at CCF were workers at the municipal dump (Steung Meanchey), picking through for recyclables or anything of value to sell. The conditions are dangerous, crime is rampant in the surrounding communities, and the kids don't have the chance to go to school. Some of the kids at CCF have been orphaned or abandoned, and have come to live full-time. Some are abuse victims, or had been sold into prostitution. Others have families, but live at CCF during the week and go home on weekends. The focus is on health and education, and giving kids the chance to study, stay healthy, learn all about Cambodian culture, and have a chance to pull themselves out of poverty.
 For their drama class, the kids write about their own lives, and they act in and direct the story on stage. Above is one girl's story. In the play, her father comes home drunk, and beats the 3 children, while her mother (who has spent the day gambling) yells and sends them back to the dump to collect garbage. In the final scene, the children are attacked by a gang of thugs while picking through trash. The play ended with the girl collapsing in the sun with her brother and sister huddled on top of her. In real life, the girl has started a job working in a restaurant in the mornings, and takes classes at CCF in the afternoon and evening. Scott only has the kids do performances for special supporters of CCF, so that the kids are not treated as if they are in a monkey-show, dancing for the tourists' money.
 Here is the author/ lead actress-- so accomplished at only 14! We spent time hanging around, playing, dancing, before dragging ourselves away for a late dinner.
 Birdie and the boys!
 The following morning was our last in Phnom Penh. Glamalie and I went to CCF2, which is a new facility across town, to visit a girl we've been sponsoring. In addition to basic education classes, they take sewing, hair and make-up design, and work at the training bakery. She was so shy, and sweet as can be, and very mature. She remembered all sort of small details we'd told her about ourselves and our group members in emails and letters, and I wish that we would have also had time to meet her mother, who is very sick. CCF2 is closer to Steung Meanchey, which makes it easier for more of the girls to be with their families. Too little time at CCF, will be back in a few months! |
| posted by Raychaa @ 2:48 PM |
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| Sunday, May 20, 2007 |
| Spirit into concrete: for Noah Simring |
 To Santa And His Ho's... And Sean, the kids, the PEPY worker bees, our RDIC hunks, the buff Cambodian men who cleaned up all our messy work, and to everyone who helped us fundraise the money for this project... otsukaresama deshita! (Thank you for your work, o honorable tired people!)
 And from our constant memories of Noah, here is the rainwater collection tank that we built in concrete. Last year on our final house-building day, we joined the boys of Sangkheum Center for a soccer kickaround. We were all too hot to move in the pre-storm air, and most of us were dragging feet through the dusty grass, willing the ball to be on the opposite end of the field. Daniela had promised us sugarcane juice if we put out a good effort. The PEPY Nearly Dozen soccer "team" was no match for the superhuman Sangkheum squad, but Dane kept yelling at us lazy ones to keep running, and Noah was out there fighting for every ball to the end. We lost by a landslide and were flirting with heatstroke, but then we got our sugarcane juice as promised and everything was better again. Noah was always the one giving 110% effort, and it's that spirit that Nat and I wanted to carry into this year's GW trip. Noah, you are missed and loved!
 Waiting by the ferry on our last day, Mama Glamalie explains how to use a fancy camera. The saddest part of leaving was the kids kept saying, "See you to-morrow? See you to-morrow?" and we had to say no, and just accept hug and kiss attacks instead.
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| posted by Raychaa @ 8:11 PM |
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| Friday, May 18, 2007 |
| RDIC and building |
 This is the RDIC factory where they manufacture various water filtering equipment. These ceramic filters are being coated in liquid silver something... I wasn't really paying attention. We spent a morning here, painting and assembling filters and touring around.
 This is Sam Ol, a project coordinator from RDIC, demonstrating a water pump that they developed for use by families. Benefits of this type of pump: it's inexpensive, can be easily fixed by its owner, and reduces arsenic in the water. Santa (Keith) is on the left, and he was our group papa. He has done aid work in several countries, and worked as a paramedic with Medecins Sans Frontiers. Pretty much, he knew something about everything. RDIC also makes educational videos about things like hygiene, health, and literacy, and we met a nurse practitioner that is working on a program to reintroduce herbal remedies into village cultures. Western medicines are exorbitantly expensive, but the traditional methods for treating common illness were mostly lost with the displacement (and genocide) of the older population during the war. So, RDIC is working to recover this knowledge so that communities can take care of their own health problems using ingredients found in the region.
 Nerds at the "coffee shop" (tables under tents, all the locals, fantastic coffee and Ovaltine) near RDIC.
 And then back on the loooooove boat to the building site!
 Lisa, here comes the airplane!
 More hours at the building site: go Sean! Go Thea Ra! Who won? Our Cambodian friend did, but he was just trying to impress Lisa. Rowr.
 Yagi yagi yagi! Right before I was enveloped in the herd, I heard a commotion from behind me. Some runaway cows were charging haphazardly toward my tiny patch of dusty road, big pointy horns glistening in the sun, old woman lazily grabbing for their halter ropes. If I were in slo-mo, I could've donned my glamour-cowgirl hat, stuck my thumbs in my pockets, and said, "Well, cows, looks like there ain't room in this here village for the two of us!" And then I could've moseyed out of danger's way. This didn't happen. The goats started braying, I panicked, screamed, and 2 cowgirl feet plus 100 little caprine hooves fled in the direction that seemed least likely to lead to imminent death. It's been awhile since I've run with goats. It was terrifying. We escaped the mad cows. I survived with a light head-butt tap from a mama goat. I ran like hell to catch up with Sean and our RDIC boys before any other animals tried to eat me. And then an old man who was watching started laughing at me.
 Hey cow, aren't you looking so chill and undangerous? Whatever. I know all your tricks. |
| posted by Raychaa @ 2:26 PM |
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| Tuesday, May 15, 2007 |
| Over the river and through the woods... |
 Is there anything cuter than a beautiful Cambodian baby in sequins and a Texas do-rag? No. This is as kawaii as it gets. TEXAS!!
 The highlight of the vacation week for me was the same highlight I have during my workweek: being at primary school! Our project was with RDIC (Resource Development International- Cambodia) which works on water and health initiatives in communities near Phnom Penh. Often, they build tanks at primary schools because they are central to a community and easily accessible. We set out in tuk-tuks from the heart of Phnom Penh to the rural outskirts, checked into Club Evergreen (our hotel, more commonly referred to 'The Club'), and got back into a truck to a ferry dock. We waited in the sun for a bit before hopping on for a long ride down the river, with people, cars, motorcycles, monks, and drunk pigs for company. Animals have to be alive to be sold at the market, so these piggies are fed sour mash, covered in mud, and strapped on to a moto. Chickens can just be stuffed into a carrier bag.
  This is our adopted school for three too-short days! These are our kids! The school has 430 kids enrolled, but not nearly that many actually come to school. Especially in rural areas, most kids never make it past grade 3, but having their names registered ensures a meagre per-head allowance from the government. They can only go to school 3 hours a day, and it's a bit hit-or-miss about how often the teachers will be there. The principal was talking to our guides, and he wanted to know all about daily school life in Japan. (When I got back to Japan, all my kids were grilling me on daily school life in Cambodia. Let's exchanging!) The kids were really shy, as this may have been their first significant contact with foreigners. Especially loud ones who wanted to sing songs and play with concrete. They taught us some fun group games, and otherwise we joked around and sang songs. Most of the girls wouldn't get near me, but there was a herd of boys who were obsessive about hand-clapping games and songs. I may never want to sing C.C. Oh Playmate or Seven Steps again...
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| posted by Raychaa @ 12:23 AM |
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| Monday, May 14, 2007 |
| Cambodian Ray Charles and friends |
 After the sad morning, we toured around with CLA (Cambodian Living Arts) and met some amazing artists and musicians. During the Khmer Rouge regime, thousands of people with special talents-- including musicians, artists, dancers, and educated professionals-- were killed. One result of this genocide is that traditional music and arts were nearly wiped out. CLA is an NGO founded to seek out surviving masters of dance and music who can now teach young Cambodians so that this culture can be passed along to the next generation. Neat, huh? The man above (Khmer Ray Charles) went blind when he was 12 or so from chicken pox, and began studying this instrument from his uncle. The songs sung are sometimes ad-libbed, and change depending on who is listening and what is happening that day. Thus, one of the songs was about us! (I'm pretty certaing that RC's song translated something like: Welcome to Phnom Penh, y'all/ It's blazing hot you know./ Santa and the Ho Ho Ho Ho/ Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho's/ and Sean... word up. Yo yo.)
 A few "blocks" away from Ray Charles' abode was the home of an instrument maker and his son. This entire area was set up as an artists' colony, but now the land value is going up and the government wants to forcefully relocate the entire community.
 We finished at the CLA studio to see a dance class. Most of the kids had been studying for about 4 years, and they tried to teach us some Cambodian groove. Apsara in the house!!
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| posted by Raychaa @ 11:31 PM |
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| Wednesday, May 09, 2007 |
| S-21 and Killing Fields |
 This Cambodia trip was again with PEPY, which is an NGO founded by Daniela, the lady in red. In a nutshell: she began with an idea to bike across Cambodia to fundraise for a new school, and that happened. And people wanted to come and help with the new school, so they came. And more people wanted to come and see Cambodia and volunteer at the same time, so they did. And along the way, PEPY was established as an NGO and lots more things have been happening, with tons of trips, lots of biking, and so much joy traveling all over the world from everyone involved.
 Our first morning in Phnom Penh was of sadness, and our first afternoon was of music. The Killing Fields are very tranquil, with a stupa towering up from a meadow to house several thousand skulls recovered by villagers after the Khmer Rouge regime. The skulls are organized by age and gender, shelf by shelf by shelf by shelf to the clouds. The glass doors are open and dusty, but the air is still. Only spiders weave through the bones: silent librarians of lives forced into anonymous and violent death. Many of the bodies are untouched, unclaimed, uncounted, in the mass pits outside.
  
 From there we visited the Genocide Museum, also called S-21, which is the former high school where victims were held, interrogated, and tortured before being sent to their deaths. Everything hit me harder this year, to the point of physical illness, yet there is nowhere else I would have wanted to be that morning than right where I was, amongst new and old friends.
 To say that these places represent something horrible and sad is an obvious statement. But it is easier to process the sadness when you're with wonderful people who are actively doing good in the world. PEPY love. |
| posted by Raychaa @ 9:20 PM |
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| So wrong it's right. And then wrong. And then wrong again... welcome to the inaka. |
| About Me |
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Name: Raychaa
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About Me: “No man, not even a doctor, ever gives any other definition of what a nurse should be than this - 'devoted and obedient'. This definition would do just as well for a porter. It might even do for a horse. It would not do for a policeman.” (Florence Nightingale)
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