Cambodia Project Blog

Update - March 2008

2008-03-04T07:09:00.000-08:00

If you read the e-mail, you can skip to **
The school is way bigger than the 4 walls that define it, with more happening outside of the main space than inside.
Our computer lab, a room inside of a shack next to the school with 5 computers, is a great success. The students had always asked that we teach computers. Now we are, and with great success. We have 5 classes per day, for 90 minutes each, plus weekend tutorials. The teachers are all students and volunteers who had some previous understanding of computers. The manager is a student from the community, Sok Eing, who is also a university IT student. He is a great success story, and keeps all the computers running smoothly. Many thanks to our donors for making this come alive.

LEADERSHIP TRAINING:
I will likely talk about how great Sokchea’s leadership training are for a long time; maybe the rest of my life. Perhaps it will become sad. In any case, Sokchea has taught levels I and II (45 hours of training) 6 times at Aziza (with an average 25 per class). We can now say that we have a large body of leaders, and the results show all around. I regularly show up and am struck with pride with the initiatives the students are taking on, and how they shine. The level of English speaking has gone up, and more and more students are finding quality full and part time jobs (quality, for the local economy that is).
Sokchea has brought together a group of 12 volunteer students, or Team Leaders, who want the opportunity to practice leadership skills by taking on a responsibility within the school, as well as assisting with our Leadership trainings. Having the Team Leaders be a part of things gives us much more leverage in our ability to get things done and influence the community (since they are the community).
The leadership training has gone on the road, and so have the Team Leaders. Many of the Team Leaders are also our best presenters, and during these weekend-long trainings to other groups, they assist with teaching the lessons, talk about their lives, how they overcame obstacles, the challenges of living in a slum, and just getting to know each other (see the above picture of our student Lena holding hands with a student from the countryside at the end of a leadership training). In exchange the rural students show them their lives, the farms they work, and local customs. It is another achievement for which I am proud to be a part of, and feels like it will have the most lasting impact since these students seem unstoppable, and I have full faith that they will be great leaders for the future of Cambodia.
While away at the most recent leadership weekend, 2 team leaders taught a Kundalini Yoga class and did a great job, thanks to a very cool group that is teaching yoga/meditation to our students and the community 2 evenings per week; http://www.kundaliniyogacambodia.org/
We have a lot of fun, and have activities for physical and mental wellness in addition to yoga. Every Sunday evening we go to do aerobics/dancing at Olympic stadium. With a hint of communist mass-exercise, it is pure fun and my favorite part of the week. About 25 teenagers all pile into 3 tuk tuks for our weekly routine, and we get special attention from the teacher who recognizes the student’s enthusiasm. The students all say their dancing has improved, and it is contributing to the high level of confidence they have these days.

**
We had a huge X-mas party packed with activities from afternoon to night, organized by the students, finishing with a loud dance party that our students are always good for.
A clown came, and so did Michael Higgins and his brother. Cambodian medical students came recently and gave the 1st of 3 shots of a tetnus vaccine to students over 8 years old (see picture of kids holding their arms – there were over 90 recipients that day).
One thing we have been doing since the beginning is giving the students de-worming pills. Recently we gave out a round, and had a nurse assist with the education portion of the treatment, making sure kids understand what they are taking and why (if they wanted to take it). Two days after we gave them out, a mother told us that her child puked up a 4” worm. I was so happy to hear it was making an impact.
We are lucky to now have a great Cambodian doctor come weekly to help sick students and their families (lucky, and blessed by great donors). It has been a big undertaking of resources, but is going great. Many students who lived with sickness are now well! Dr. Chenda (female) also teaches a few days a week, and assists with health trainings for our women’s group. After she gives the exam, our medical coordinator, Sreang, fills the prescriptions and distributes the medicine, carefully going over the instructions and asking patients to write down and sign that they understand how to take the medicine. We also have an Australian nurse, Lucy, volunteering to create good structures to provide the best health care and education we can, and to make the best use of our funds.
One night, an owl flew into the very tall palm tree in front of the school. I was happy to see the majestic, rare creature bless us with his presence. Simultaneously, a student was preparing to throw a rock at it. I motioned for him not to do so, and said that I liked owls. A few of the students explained to me that the owl is thought to bring death, and that the death could be getting placed into someone as we watched it, our necks creaking upward. After I thought about it from their side (I mean owls do have a pretty creepy look), I decided to join them and we all threw stones up at the bringer-of-death.
Just kidding! I gave my best performance and tried to convince them that owls are great, which seemed relatively effective to the 6 kids who were actually listening to the student who was translating for me. After a bit the owl flew away, and I thought it must kind of suck to be an owl in Cambodia.
We recently went to a very small village outside of Oudong, the old capital of Cambodia, and Sokchea gave a leadership training. The boys slept on tarps outside the manager’s house and the girls slept inside. I spread my tarp under a bamboo tree, and had multiple students approach me that they were concerned that the tree would take the oxygen out of the air during the night, and I would be a little deprived of oxygen. They said that during the day trees give out oxygen, but at night they take it in and give out carbon dioxide. I moved my tarp after they also said that I was on a cow path.
Cucumbers, I feel, should not be cooked, but so often in Cambodia they are.
Oh, and we had some tragedies too. I don’t feel the need to publish them, but of course it is not all rosy in a poor community within a country know for human rights abuses and child labor. I can see people pulling themselves out of the cycle of poverty, but I am saddened knowing what potential gets untapped, especially in young people, when even a small event takes resources from a family.
There is also a new short story on my personal blog, http://cambodiastories.blogspot.com/

It's been a long road to get to where we are, and I thank everyone who has been a part of our success. We are eager for and donations (click on the Donate button on the upper right hand side of this page), and would appreciate anything that is good for you, as well as any help in finding us new donors.
I will be in the US for a visit starting in April. I hope to see you in person soon.
Warm regards!

The School Was Torn Down!

2008-03-03T02:44:00.000-08:00

(pictures of the new school, insice and out, as well as staff members Sreang, Sokim, and Sokchea)

There have been plans to evict the community around Aziza Schoolhouse since before I arrived, and the process has been underway for over 1.5 years. Sometimes in clusters, but often one-by-one, houses disappear as the owners negotiate to take a house outside the city, or a cash settlement. The land is very prime real estate for Cambodia, and is worth as much as land in many American city centers. Prices have skyrocketed since the initial agreement was made between the village chiefs and the developer, fueling the rage between home owners and the developer, with the remaining residents feeling they are being offered compensation well below market value. I have witnessed multiple riots that have included a lot of stone throwing, injuries, a few Molotov cocktails, and a truck being lit on fire.
Last fall the community amazed me, and made a contingent plan for the school. There is a run-down apartment building that borders the slum that is also part of the community, which likely won’t have to move for a few years. One day a small girl walked me over to this dark, dungy, apartment where a woman in a wheel chair lived with her family. Her great uncle owned it, and she was able to tell me that “Aziza move here.” It was tough to navigate over the 4 foot high pile of garbage that had built up from upstairs residents dropping their trash out their windows, mosquitoes were rampant in the stagnant water, and there was a cluster of outhouses directly in front. I tried to show gratitude to her great uncle, Pim Prin, but it was difficult to know how to react to an offer that didn’t seem too appealing when looking at it in its current condition. Someone else was able to explain to me that they had plans to fix it up and blow out a wall.
After a major 6 weeks renovation including removing the massive pile of garbage, a bathroom installed, walls and floor re-cemented, painted, new electric, all at the expense of “Uncle.” We’ve made a documentary about this, which I look forward to showing you. You can hear him telling me that he doesn’t care if we don’t always pay the below-market [$30] rent, he just wants to have a place for his grand-nieces and nephews to go to school. He had accumulated multiple shacks which he’d sold, and showed awesome generosity. He lived in the slum for 25 years.
We turned the new school into a computer lab as construction was wrapping up, but knew we’d need it for a classroom in time. We named it Aziza School (dropped the ‘house’).
Aziza Schoolhouse was owned by the brother of the neighbor, our cleaner, who is a close friend (‘Moch’ is also the mother and aunt of 2 of our students). She had said that her brother was not allowed to sell the school until the end, so we thought we’d be there for a while yet. All that changed one Friday, and I wrote an email to my local community to share what was happening on that day last November:

>I just found out today that we have to be out of the building where Aziza is by this Sunday, when they will come and demolish the building. We will move into a better room about 70 meters away in the apartment building, which has been renovated for us, and everything is fine. It will be cooler and look nicer, but I will miss our little wooden shack where there are so many good memories.>

> I feel it is a special place, and I know I am not the only one. I had an appreciation for the simplicity and roughness that is the schoolhouse. I loved it the moment I laid eyes on it. I like how it blended into the neighborhood, and it's flaws grew on me over time to where it seemed it was meant to be just the way it was. I think the kids found it easy to be comfortable there, though they can likely have a good time just about anywhere. The rats navigating the ceiling beams nightly were always a thrill. It's been the greatest place on earth for me, and I am emotional about the change.>

> Many of the good memories happened outside the school as well, and the specialness of the school was what we created, not the building. And that was part it as well I guess; the school sucks, the desks suck, it sucks having rats walking around.., but the kids always made the best of it, and all their laughter more than made up for what was missing in the small room. The schoolhouse was a microcosm of Cambodia in many ways.>

> This weekend will have a series of events starting with parties on Saturday, where we'll show the new documentary and reflect back, then move everything on Sunday morning, ending with a bon fire on Sunday night, possibly with a pig roast (using wood scraps from the school). I plan to sleep there on Saturday night - yikes!>

> Peace,> Drew

I did sleep there and it was pretty cool. The move happened quickly in the morning, and men came with crow bars to salvage the valuable wood (the men with crow bars arrived early, and I lost my cool for a few minutes when we were encouraged to hurry, and emotionally proclaimed that we weren’t going to be told what to do anymore).
In the afternoon we had a ceremony where a procession of monks chanted and blessed our new home. The evening was a great party with 2 pigs and dancing.
The students and I adapted to the new building, but it was not without some sentimental conversations and longing for our old building. I was especially emotional around this time. We had numerous conversations with the students so we could try to capture what they liked about the old school into the new school.
One student said he missed the smells of the old school, and the neighbor’s cooking. Another said she liked hearing the rain on the tin roof. Minor details about the random decorating of the school were brought up. They loved their old school as much as I did!
How could they have grown up in such tough conditions, yet think these sweet thoughts and have these memories for little insignificant pieces of life? The new school is better. It has a fresh paint job, spotlights on the white board, and no rats. Why do the students hold on to their affinity for the old school? This is the thought that has made me cry more than anything since I have been here - their innocence! They have made it through years of living in a community with rampant violence, witnessed god only knows what, and yet have an attachment to the smells and sounds of our old school. They are so precious.
In time I have come to love the new school – it really is better. We have a nice bathroom and sink, and a loft for some of the students to sleep (in addition to sleeping on top of the desks). We also had some art students from Long Beach come to help make it our home.

Leadership Class

2007-09-11T22:56:00.000-07:00

I wrote about one of our teachers Sokchea on a previous blog, and how we are so lucky to have him and what a great teacher he is. He was born to teach, and it is no surprise that by employing someone who found his calling in life things would work out well.

Early in the year he approached me and said he wanted to teach a Leadership class. I questioned him about whether he was really qualified, and could he really come up with 25 hours of material. I said I would think about it and asked him to help me do some research to see what already exists. A few days later he said he was ready to teach it and all he needed was my approval. He said I didn’t need to pay him, he would be a volunteer, and just wanted my approval. I couldn’t say no to that, and let him do his thing.

The class was packed on the first day, and a few weeks into it the students were telling me they loved it and were getting so much from it. They were finding ways to deal with their families and life challenges. He is loud and enthusiastic when he teaches, students are constantly engaged, and the students say they love his humor. I let Sokchea know he could be paid for his time.

To graduate from the Leadership class, and receive a lamented, color certificate with their picture, students had to have attended at least 20 classes (during their lunch hour) and pass the written exam. Several failed, but still attended the ceremony and party we threw at the end.

As soon as the first class ended he started a Level II class. Then we offered the Level I again, then level II, now level I again, but the class is too crowded even after turning some students away, so we need to divide the class. At this point, we have trained over 60 students in leadership, and the results are showing.

We rented a big tent ($12) and had a big outdoor graduation ceremony for all the community to see the proud new leaders, then rented a boat ($25, plus food) for the party. The party was all organized by the students with great care, food, games…and they danced like rock stars. It was unbelievably fun, and the difference from some of them was so inspiring. To see Chanta, a 14 year old girl who seemed so shy, get up and sing karaoke was inspiring.

Our biggest field trip was to the zoo/wildlife sanctuary (all animals were rescued from poachers) and the Leadership students created a Leadership Team that organized all the details and divided the students into manageable groups. They were completely amazing. There were 115 students, 8 moms, 10 foreigners, 3 buses, and a million laughs. We've never done anything with all the students outside of the school, and it was really a special day for them. After the zoo we went swimming in a mud-colored lake. They love to go swimming, and rarely get to. Most kids hardly ever leave the slum where they live, so the day had many impacts, and went like clockwork.

The best stories are on a personal level, such as Ly Thanh, who bought ‘teacher Sokchea’ a new shirt and wrote him a letter about how she was so much happier after taking his class. She explained that her family never encouraged her or took her side, but now she could deal with them and have compassion for their shortcomings. She later talked about how she was able to improve her business selling cooked duck eggs by being personable with customers and the police, who would ask her for money to sell in a public place.

I went to visit her and her family (I have tried to interview all the families), and later cried thinking about how terrible the conditions were at her house, the challenges she has overcome, and how great she turned out. Here is her letter, translated to English:

Dear Teacher,

My name is Ly Thanh, I am a student, and would like to give this [shirt] as a present to the my teacher. I would like to deeply express my appreciation to the teacher for teaching my sisters and me. Since I have come here to study, I understand a lot about the personal problems that I have had for years. The truth is that I am an unfortunate child. My parents mentally, emotionally and physically didn’t care much for me. What they have or bought, they have never given it to me; they give it to others. In addition, when other says that I am not a good child, my parents blame it on me with no reason. Because of this, it was hard for me to move forward even though I wanted to. These days only my grandma, my uncles, my aunts and others give me encouragement. When I needed help, it’s them who helped me.
Since I have come to study, I have had some relief from that sadness that I had for years. The lessons at Aziza school helped to me have control of my life. I am so thankful for the teachers who gave me encouragement that my parent didn’t.
Lastly, I wish teacher’s family to have happiness and good health in the family. I want to wish you to have success in work as you desired.

Ly Thanh
Phnom Penh 26th March, 2007

Stories From the School - Sept 07.

2007-09-11T02:30:00.000-07:00

Pictures: 1.)boys playing in the dirt under umbrella, 2.)abandoned prosthetic leg was quite a find!, 3.)fried snake saleslady (her hair eerily resembles the food), 4.)standing room only for the pig dissection/anatomy class (with pig roast following).

And now a smorgasbord of short stories never to be told.

My hammock broke. It was the 4th time, and some falls were quite painful.

There is an epidemic of Dengue Fever, Grum Chean, this rainy season (ending in Sept). Small children are at the greatest risk, and while accurate figures are hard to come by, tens of thousands have got it so far this year, and over 200 have died from one hospital alone. Foreigners are much more susceptible, and a few of my friends have had it this year. It is a horrific sickness which I hope I never get, marked by fever, headache, and in severe cases, bleeding. At least one student got it, and we were very much a part of getting him quality medical care. He and his family thank you. Our team worked to train the students on how to minimize their risk of contraction and what symptoms to look for. In retrospect we didn’t do enough, but will be ready to do more next year.

My life here has changed constantly, and I now have a home-office complete with Internet. I also have a part time job with a human rights organization (http://www.licadho.org/) where I learn lots.

For a short period of time, I was able to say that all of the kids who wanted to go to the dentist had been (one kids said his mom didn’t believe in it).

On a positive note, Cambodia is a net-carbon sink, absorbing more global-warming carbon than it omits.

When I visited friends and family in the US I showed pictures of exotic Cambodia; kids eating tarantulas and other bugs… But I wish I could tell about how the kids at the school are so similar to kids in the US. Flatulence seems to be as funny to these kids as to my nieces and nephews.

There are 2 or more students who were gangsters who said they now use the school as a way to get out of that world by spending their evenings at the school. One student is considered quite cool, and recently went on to give a friend advice that he should stop the gang since he could wind up in prison, which the friend appreciated.

Our students are very special, and possibly the best of the slum. All of them are poor, but perhaps many of them are different from other kids in the neighborhood because they have the discipline, self esteem, intelligence, and support to come to school everyday. Many, unfortunately, have dropped out of public school, usually because of money, and only attend English classes.

We've been doing more fun activities outside the slum, especially with the teenagers, and one student said that before our school came they never did things like go for a walk around the city. We have a great relationship with the families and they have told us that they trust their children with us.

One field trip, at the request of the students, was to Tuol Slang, a former high school converted to a prison during the Khmer Rouge where prisoners underwent systematic torture until they were killed. All the inmates were photographed prior to their death, and the photos are displayed creating a harrowing experience. One sensitive young girl threw up.

In March we took 26 students (all the students between 12 and 18 years old) for 3 days to Angkor Wat, Cambodia’s unrivaled temples from the 9th to 14th century. It was the best weekend of my life. I wish I could say that I have grown up and was behaving as a proper adult, but I was having too much fun (when I wasn’t needed to organize), and we did things like shout out the windows “hello barang (foreigner)” whenever we saw a tourist. I also raced kids to the top of a temple and won! One of the many highlights was sunset and jungle noises from on top of a temple. The kids were so sweet and interested to even experience a silent sunset, per my suggestion.

Another highlight of the weekend was when we first arrived at the guest house. We booked most of the rooms on the second floor, and between the running water in the bathrooms and tiled floors in the rooms and on the veranda, the kids were so excited and amazed. Many live in houses with dirt floors and often just have water that they carry into their homes for bathing, so it was a real treat. For everything all weekend, the cost per person was only about $20 (thanks much to our partners Sam and Anne/Chibodia for your support)!

As a whole, the kids are very happy. Come to the school and you would never suspect that kids had any problems. But as I look deeper, when I see one child at a time, I know many of their challenges, of the unfair game they are left to play. Happy and sad, that is the school.

I think about how I wound up here. I first came as a tourist, and was struck by how precious and playful the children were. After 18 months, I still feel this way about them.

After I returned from my trip home last April-May, when people here asked me ‘how was America?’ and ‘what did you do while you were home?’ I mostly answer that everyone was great to me, and I had a colonoscopy (looking for parasites – they didn’t find any). My colonoscopy is analogous to my trip home in many ways. It was uncomfortable at times, a little weird, I was treated well, and a there was a lot going on. Unlike my colonoscopy, my trip was too short.

We have placed 5 students into quality jobs, and 5 are currently in training programs/internships. Others have gone on to find their own jobs, some utilizing the English they learned.

Ultimately we are accountable to the donors, and you don’t want to hear stories of making kids happy so they can go on to make the same mistakes of the generation before. I believe if we all disappeared tomorrow, many of the kids will do pretty well with their lives (many in the slum will not break the cycle of poverty). Change is happening quickly for some in Cambodia, but not quickly enough.

Aziza Schoolhouse has many friends and we appreciate you all. If we had one less friend, we would do less. If we had one more, we’d do more.

Currently we spend about $1,000 per month, and in an ideal world we’d be able to spend…, about $1,000 per month. The challenge now is to keep the funding coming so we can continue with all we do; 11 hours of class each day, medical, dental, soccer, field trips, computer lab, movies, women’s group, books…

People work hard for their money, so it is understandable that they want accountability. Let me or Christine from Village Earth know if you’d like a copy of the financials; Christine@villageearth.org drewmcdo@msn.com I do not receive any compensation, and no one makes more than $1.50 per hour. Our greatest asset is we work smart, have almost no beaurocracy, empower employees, motivation is high... Like I said, it is going well.

You can look at the project as you are the donors and I am the manager, or you can see it as you are the directors and I am the facilitator.

We are making a documentary, and I will mail one over to anyone who donates. In fact, I will do a lot of things for anyone who donates if that is what it takes. We need funding! Consider being a monthly donor.

We are starting a computer lab, and it will deliver hard skills at a very low cost. Mostly it will be staffed by volunteer students who have taken classes previously, and used computers are very cheap here ($150). The room we are renting is $20 per month. One of the teachers, Sambath, immediately offered $20 to get more computers in there. A sizable donation from someone earning $1.50 per hour (he teachers 2 hours per evening after his day job, so he will have to work for almost 7 nights to earn the $20 he has donated). Most of the jobs I mentioned where students were placed were through a non-profit/for-profit, DDD; http://www.digitaldividedata.com/ where they work doing data entry. English + computers = job opportunities.

Check out my friend’s art project with the kids at the school:
http://peace-art-cambodia.blogspot.com/2007/07/peace-day-3-aziza-schoolhouse-window.html
or, check out all of their recent projects: www.peace-art-cambodia.blogspot.com Our beloved long-term volunteer art teacher Setareh left us ) : Check out her awesome blog of kids photography, http://cambodian-kids.blogspot.com/

We were recognized by the UN:
http://villageearth.org/VE_BLOG/2007/03/undp-takes-notice-of-education-project.html

Going back to the US for a visit was tough and the culture shock was severe. Since I returned I have had a lot of mixed feelings on what I want, or accepting what I am missing out on back home. I rarely get out of the city when I am here, so seeing the natural beauty of the open space on the outskirts of Denver I was in awe. Mostly it doesn't do me much good to think about it too much since I am certain I want to be here for now, even if Phnom Penh was just rated as one of the worst cities to live in (125th out of 132 – even below Tehran). I love Cambodia because of the poverty. Everyone’s life is a story of triumph, tragedy, challenge, and struggle.

I would love to hear from you. Send me an e-mail – they keep me going. It may take me a while to get back to you.

Many thanks to all the committed volunteers!

Update for Feb 07!

2007-02-20T23:56:00.000-08:00

New School – The Rudi Boa Center!

On January 2^nd the new school, the Rudi Boa Center, opened to the Boeng Kok community. Boeng is Khmer for lake, and the school is on stilts over the water of a lake in Phnom Penh. If you drop your pen and it rolls between the floor boards, it is gone – into the nasty water below. Nearby is the train station and the railroad tracks which, like the lake, are littered with trash and lined with dirty kids. The school is close to the base of a peninsula going into the lake where people farm snails, fish, frogs and various greens. The waste of 20,000 people flows directly into the water, and skin conditions are common. Kids swim right next houses whose toilets empty directly into the water.

The Rudi Boa Center is there because Aziza was a success, and this opportunity came to us because of that. Thanks to all the donors for planting the seed that is still growing.

Rudi Boa and his girlfriend came to Cambodia as backpackers during Christmas 2005, and volunteered in the same slum as Aziza Schoolhouse. Had I been able to change my previous flight home at that time, I would possibly have met them. But our paths never crossed, physically, and after Cambodia they traveled to Australia where Rudi tragically died. He was 27 and was known as being an all-around great person with a big heart.

His family wanted something good to come from Rudi’s passing, and I was able to connect with them, and proposed a school. I arranged for them to partner with an NGO call Bridges Across Borders, www.bridgesacrossborders.org, a contact I made here. I felt they would be the best managers since they are permanently based here, and also bring a lot of experience to help the community. The teacher from Aziza, Phana, did most of the work to find, rent, renovate and decorate it to where it is now. It is very cute and is a great learning environment; a new house twice the size of Aziza with a nice bathroom, and only $45 per month.

There are countless children in the neighborhood, and classes were instantly filled with 40 children each. The kids started out really wild, and they would pierce my ears when I was in the school. Now they have been taught the rules and the classes are orderly yet fun. Phana has even begun trimming their nails and getting them to wash their hands and feet. Most of the students are of primary school age, with evening classes for older kids just starting now.

There are limitless things that can be done to help these kids and the community. The community will very likely also be moved in the next year or two to make way for development in the city, as plans loom to fill in the lake and build expensive condominiums.

****
Old School – Aziza Schoolhouse

I can always say that there are more things happening than I will ever be able to tell. I so enjoy my time at Aziza Schoolhouse as I become more comfortable with the people in the community and create bonds with the students. There are a million stories since I wrote last; teeth have come out, students were invited to dance for the newly-arrived Peace Corp volunteers, international and local volunteers have infused ideas and life, a few hundred pieces of art were created, tens of thousands of smiles, connections, laughs, learning, dancing and a few fights and tears. Oh, and 2 dogs ran into the school in the middle of a class and began to fight. All the girls screamed and the dogs ran out, continuing their play-fight.

Some great volunteers just left. James from Australia had the best attitude and flowed right into our scene, carving out his own niche and bonding with the kids. Two Mexican girls, Ena and Sandra, came and did science experiments every night for the older kids. Mixed with the science was a LOT of fun. These girls know how to party, including their trademark dancing/singing routine “chew-chew-wa, chew-chew-wa, chew-chew-wa-wa-wa.” Yeah, the kids loved them, and so did I. They are like, from a world where people aren’t beat down, jaded, and ruined. Also they all had incredible personal experiences and fell in love with the kids.

While I was out of town the Ena and Sandra took the lead on hiring a new teacher to replace Chay who started university. We created “Teacher Idol,” where the 3 top candidates came and answered questions before the students in the Leadership class (story coming). The students voted, and Sambath became a clear winner.

Another big happening is the Leadership and Management Training that Sokchea (one of the teachers) just finished. It was 25 hours, 3 days per week during their lunch break from public school. There was a final exam, and only 17 of the 20 who made it the whole way through passed (harsh). The kids loved it, telling me repeatedly that Sokchea did an excellent job (it was all in Khmer, so I have to take their word for it). It was a lot of participation, presentations, and peer feedback on life goals. We are now planning to roll this out to the new school, as well as offer another Leadership training at Aziza, focusing on qualities within.

I have been making plans to return home, but decided to stay through the eviction, which is set for late April. I want to be here for the final days. I will make a request to the developer and/or government to allow everyone stay until the end of the public school year in late June. So I am not sure when I will make it to the US, and am not yet ready to return anyway. I do miss family and friends.

Part of my planning to leave has been finding someone to take my place, and I found 2. Ann and Sam, a German-American couple, will take over for me when I leave and will take things to another level I am sure. Ann is a teacher and Sam a nurse. I know that they have great hearts. After the neighborhood is moved I hope that the infrastructure will relocate to another neighborhood.

The volunteer art teacher is named Sihtara, from Iran, and she is incredible. She has worked a lot with street kids and taught them photography. She has an incredible blog documenting her therapeutic/artistic project; www.cambodian-kids.blogspot.com

Together we are creating a children’s story (she is doing most of the work). The school flies away, leaving problems behind… You can look forward to some version of this, possibly online.

Here are the current programs we are offering;

English classes at various levels for anyone from the community; mostly kids from 6 to 20 years old. 4 classes per day, 2-hours each, Mon – Fri.
All the dental care any kid needs, health and medical assistance programs.
Daily art and activities classes.
Saturday fun time/safe space; singing, movies, and snacks until 11 PM.
Sunday morning volunteer lecturers on hazards common to life here, and how to avoid them (pedophilia, prostitution, pregnancy, AIDS, drugs…), as well as life skills, character building, and hygiene.
Reading and story time: to promote literacy in Khmer language.
A Women’s group for teen girls to discuss and learn about all the things that this culture leaves a mystery. Also leanring to swim at a public pool.
Leadership training for teens.
Scholarships for 8 very poor students to attend “public” school, including uniforms.
Football (soccer) team: 30 teen boys pile into a tuk-tuk to have fun, bond, compete, and get out their aggressions in a healthy way.

****
If we get in touch with the suffering in the world and are moved by that suffering, we may come forward to help the people who are suffering, and our own suffering may just vanish.

Thich Nhat Hanh

Christmas Party

2006-12-23T21:42:00.000-08:00

We had a huge Christmas Eve party for the community around the school. The spirit of Christmas and community was very much alive for me and everyone that attended.

Possibly the most fun was the planning and anticipation for the kids the entire week leading up to the party. The teachers taught the kids Christmas Carols, which they are passionate about, and everyone took on a piece of the planning to make it a very organic, spontaneous festivity. It was very much a community organized event and everyone seemed to have a great time.

The afternoon was packed with activities;
3:00 - 3:30 Story of Christmas traditions, in Khmer.
3:30 – 4:30 Traditional dance, games and singing.
4:30 – 5:00 Santa came!
5:00 – 6:00 Dinner
6:00 – 7:00 Dance performance by the students hip-hop/synchronized dance troop, break dancing and traditional dancing.

We supplied 20 grilled chickens, the neighbor made 15 kilos of rice we bought, and students’ moms made vegetables and side dishes. We had to eat in shifts since there were 3 times as many people than could fit into the school. It was chaos and everyone just rolled with it.

The dancing, singing, and most of the activities took place in an area close to the school where they practice dancing. The kids all worked the day before making decorations for the party, and made the school and dance area look great. My friends Dennis, Luisa, Luisa’s mom Diane, Cheryl, and Phana (the teacher) bought and wrapped 110 beautiful gift packages for every student. Pens, pencils, highlighters, erasers, snacks and candy, wrapped in tissue paper with ribbons. Kids in the new ‘Leadership Training’ and ‘Women’s Group’ got a nice organizer notebook. Dennis dressed up as Santa Clause and the 90 students and an extra 15 small kids from the neighborhood lined up to get their gift from Santa (it got crazy at one point when the small kids started to worry they were going to miss out and stormed Santa). It was a big effort and everyone seemed to enjoy the gift of giving.

There were many great moments. The 2 sisters in the picture with Phana, Sokley and Sreyron, while their family is extremely poor trash pickers and beggars, they got Phana a gift. The dentist we use and his family came and were our first Khmer donors. All the dancing and activities were a big production and involved some expenses, as well as a lot of mess to clean up. No one asked for any money; we just provided chicken and rice.

Dinner was a little crazy when 100 kids crowded the food table, but the women from the community handled it great and everyone got plenty to eat, including a healthy portion of meat.

It was all so unexpected. I thought we would do a little something, and it turned into a very special party. The teachers, students, the community and my friends have been so great and made it all so easy.

Some pictures are from the Lice Day we had the other day. There was a major infestation in the students, and you could see the lice swimming in the puddles after rinsing the kids. The kids all seemed to have a lot of fun, and were appreciative that they were getting treated. Sokley had so many we shampoo'd her twice, and she made a mohawk.

Nov. 2006, An Update at Last!

2006-11-08T08:46:00.000-08:00

So much to tell, but I will make it brief for now.

The project has a new name, Cambodian Education Project, and a new focus; schools and outreach programs.

Aziza Schoolhouse has expended some programs, and has become a comfortable place for kids in the slum to come to learn, have fun, and be human. When broken down to basics, as the school of thought goes, living in poverty often means being oppressed (by an oppressor), and deprives people of the opportunity to be human. There is a lot happening under the rusty roof these days besides English lessons, with the ultimate goal being to give the kids a time to be human, and give them tools to break out of oppression.

The 3 teachers at Aziza Schoolhouse (Phana, Chay and Sokchea) do most of the work, and I look for new programs, find partners, and take care of the financing. The teachers are clear about their roles; look out for the children’s welfare (sometimes involving me), provide a nurturing learning environment during the week, and a fun community center on weekends; movies and karaoke throughout the day on Saturdays, life skills trainings and soccer on Sunday mornings.

A volunteer from Iran, Satarah, is providing 3-hour drop-in art classes 3 days per week, and there is a woman’s group led by Khmer volunteers (university students Soukheim, Tida and Vicki, set up by Karly) that is meeting every 2 weeks to discuss things that may not get talked about enough in this culture; puberty, anatomy, sex...

We have been teaching kids about various “rights and wrongs” using an animated booklet produced by UNICEF. Some kids asked, “but what about the parents who do hit kids and make them go to work [mostly collecting recycling].” Phana, a caring teacher and role model, told the students to take the books home and show it to their parents.

We did formally adopt a “no-hitting” policy in the classroom. Most teachers here carry a stick to point to the board, pound on desks to get attention, and give a whack to students when they feel it is needed. I decided we would do things a little different.

A part of the English curriculum we are using involves singing. The kids seem to really love it and sound pretty good. Such classics as “If your happy and you know it…”, “Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes,” and "Old McDonald" boom through the walls. Like all shacks of the slum, the school and it’s neighbors have just some thin boards between them, so I can only imagine they tire of the noise, but they are great neighbors and support the school. They may be my best partners, and I feel lucky to have found such a good natured neighbors.

The 2 brothers who live in the room at the back of the school help out quite a bit, and the younger brother Amnach (it means power) is a favorite student, as well as the class clown/big personality. Amnach has a beautiful voice and sings Khmer pop favorites for the class without any back-up music. Amnach’s mom lives near the Thai border in Poipet (a scary place I hear), and cleans fish for very little money. She left the older boys behind and just kept the youngest with her, but she got word to me that she would like to have the boys go to an orphanage (as many parents here would like to do with their children). Her husband took 2 children with him when he left her for another woman (they refer to it as taking a 2^nd wife, and while some men keep them both, too frequently one of the women disfigures the other by throwing acid on her face).

Amnach didn’t go back to school this year because he didn’t have the money; 500 riel per day ($.12), plus occasional test fees etc. It was the same situation for 4 other students, 2 boys and 2 girls. The teacher Sokchea went to the school and talked to the principle, who agreed to let up to 10 students from Aziza schoolhouse attend school without having to pay. We have identified the best candidates, and will be following them and doing our best to keep them in school, including giving some food money for breakfast before school. One student, Sani, a Vietnamese girl, is undocumented and so she needed to be registered with the government before she could attend school, which Sokchea arranged. She doesn’t know her birthday, just that her mother thinks she is about 12. I offered her my same birthday if she wants it.

Sani has started back in the 3^rd grade, and was proud to tell us that in Vietnam she was #2 in her class at the wat (temple) where she studied. She seems very smart. Undocumented children, mostly Vietnamese, are in the highest risk category for abuse and trafficking.

On Sundays, a Khmer volunteer Pheakadey, AKA KD, has been coming to discuss things that I wish the kids didn’t need to know about (but they do); pedophilia, HIV, drugs, domestic violence, human trafficking and prostitution. At 20 years old, KD has already graduated from an Australian University, and now works for Samaritan Purse as well as teaching at Phnom Penh University. Somehow he still finds time to come talk to the kids on Sunday mornings!

A volunteer, Erik Lofting from Australia, came and shot some great video footage and created a really top-notch DVD documentary on our projects. I look forward to showing you.

A prestigious, tall, American lecturer visited and gave talks on Tibet, the Dalai Lama, and an interactive presentation on Halloween! All were big hits with the kids.

Village Earth is of course still supportive, and is the link that makes everything possible.

While the focus of my project has narrowed, there are always unlimited things waiting for my attention. I don’t know all of the 80 students currently attending classes, and when I spend time at the school meeting kids, many needs become clear. One student got my attention recently, Makao, an outgoing 12 year old with a spark in her eye, and a gift for art. She gave me a picture she drew; a lavish scene with birds, flowers, mountains, and a pond. I was praising her great work, and she smiled really big. I could see the tops of her 4 front permanent teeth were all in serious decay. While this may not be the most serious problem any child in Cambodia faces, I really wanted to make sure she got help. We took her to the dentist, and while it doesn’t look good, hopefully the fillings and some changes to her habits can save her teeth.

It’s usually the teacher or a family member that takes the kids to the dentist, but I recently stayed with a young boy and girl, 10 and 11 years old (they look like they are 5 and 7) while they got teeth yanked. The girl, Sreyroat (srey means girl), was scared and whimpered at the sight of the novacane needle (after about 25 kids went to the dentist I asked the dentist if he used an anesthesia, which he didn’t, so I asked him if he could get some and he agreed). I held her hand while he pulled the tooth, and she cried as soon as he finished. Next, Kaydee was all smiles, just delighted to be getting a little field trip and some special attention. He had 2 teeth pulled, and the second one didn’t want to come out, despite being a baby tooth and half rotten on top. The roots were over 1 cm when it did finally succumb to the dentist’s strength! He stopped smiling, but only for a minute, then he was right back to big smiles. The whole day he just seemed happy, like it was the best day he’d had all month.

Since school started in late September, I asked all the teachers to quiz the kids to find out who was not going to school. A 15 year old girl, Guintier, lives in a rented room with her 2 older sisters and didn’t have money for school. Her 17 year old sister Sreytuit, has also not returned to school this year, and studies only English and computers part time (thanks to your donations). I was struck by the fact that these girls are unbelievably gorgeous, completely destitute, and living in the heart of a sex worker area; I know the need for education is great. Guintier is now going to school, 7^th grade (not uncommon here for that age), and we are giving her $.25 for food every school day. Sreytuit decided not to return to the 9^th grade and is looking at job training programs.

We recently provided de-worming medication, Mebenzanol, for all of the kids. It is suggested every 6 months for anyone living in a developing country, is inexpensive and has little to no side effects. Surely many of the 80 children are now rid of parasites that deprive them of needed nutrients.

There are now 8 hours of class per day, about 80 students (most attend 2 hour classes). I now have statistics on the students; all but 3 are between 8 and 18 years old, and two-thirds are between grades 3 and 8. We have “fresh” water that flows freely from large plastic bottles, and I am pleased to see kids drinking more in this heat.

What happened to the project at the Center (orphanage)? It’s a little sticky to put in writing on a blog for all the world to see, but here is my best effort to explain the recent events semi-diplomatically.

Our support was almost all directly benefiting the children. The bathrooms were the 1 major expenditure that benefited the community at large, but most funds passed direct from me to the kids. I learned shortly after arriving that it was, as many organizations in Cambodia, not somewhere you’d want to give your funds. I stayed involved because the needs were great, children are wonderful, and I was introduced to a slum community in a relatively safe environment. A local human rights group had met with me to discuss the Center and how best to work with them.

As time went on my support for the community at the Center was less, and eventually was primarily just paying for kids to attend English school. Most of our resources were going toward the school, just 200 meters from the Center. It’s all a pretty long story, but my version of the short story is that a new director (the previous general manager) felt they were better off without me than with me, since I knew too much about their operation, how they failed to look out for the welfare of the children, etc, and when potential donors came around they preferred to not have me in the picture. They created a theory that I was taking pictures of their community and using them to raise funds for the school. They seemed quite angry and our final meeting had a threatening tone. This of course was quite discerning, so I left the country and went to Tibet (www.interestingsmells.blogspot.com) for a while.

While I am saddened to not see my friends (the children at the Center), I am much more productive working in an environment where I have greater control and influence, and it is much more rewarding to know that the programs are making a lasting impact. It is draining to work in the face of corruption. The oppressor-oppressed model is more than academic. On one of my last days there, we organized a big haircuts-and-lice-shampooing day, and tried to put a dent in the endemic lice problem of the community. It was a great success, with efforts from everyone in the community.

What’s next? By January everyone must leave “my” slum, which is often making it into local and international news media. The German ambassador has promised an inquiry into the land grabbing that is taking place across the country, benefiting high-ranking government officials, displacing poor communities and providing nothing for their survival.

I have returned from Tibet with [salmonella and] a greater focus and am re-energized by what I am doing. Immediately upon my return Phana and I had some amazing results in finding a new location for another school. More on this is coming soon…

Aziza Schoolhouse

2006-07-28T08:17:00.000-07:00

The biggest news is the school we have started, or re-started. It's a free English school in the slum, just down the alley from the Center, and we have fixed it up so it is very cute and provides a good learning environment. Attendance has been great, and all 6 daily classes, 9 hours of training, are well attended by our 120 students…

The only criteria to attend is that you live in the ‘hood, and all students are provided books and notebooks. The 3 teachers we’ve hired are top-notch Khmer’s, and take their jobs seriously (but make class fun). The rent is $30 per month, electric is $30, the teachers about $350, cleaning $10, and there are various other small expenses for things like books and supplies (in total about $440 per month). The classroom will likely also be used as a community center to help the residents organize and represent themselves well in preparation for the looming mass-eviction of the neighborhood (my guess is around December).

I’ve had the good fortune to find the best teacher in Cambodia, Sokchea. He is also the manager, and is very effective in managing students to keep the class on track, as well as coaching the other teachers on this important topic. His trademark is that he is LOUD, and his voice booms out of the classroom commanding attention from all of the children who love and admire him. Unfortunately he does regularly lose his voice. He does everything and anything to make it all work and doesn't charge for all the extra time he puts in. He stresses punctuality in a land where nothing could be more foreign. In addition to 5 teaching hours at our school, he has another job teaching 2 hours. Phana (female) and Chay (male) are new but already have shown admirable traits in addition to being great teachers and speaking great English. The teachers all make $1.50 per hour.

Incidentally, Sokchea and his friend were recently robbed at gunpoint in front of his friend's house, just for their cell phones. It was 10:30 am when 2 motorbikes pulled up on each side of them, the passengers holding guns.

The school feels like the best achievement of my life to date. When I arrive at the classroom, and there are 20 students completely focused, reciting words and phrases in unison, developing their minds, I feel great pride. Whatever will happen from here is beyond guessing. There is already at least 1 villain, a boy who stops by during class, high on drugs, causing commotion and concern for Sokchea. There’s also a character, Pear, that sleeps in the back, along with his brother, without my permission, but they seem to be benign, and hopefully watch out for the school.

I have only visited the night classes a few times, since I don’t spend much time in the slum after dark. Sokchea said the students really wanted to meet me, so I went down and spoke to the class. They made me feel like I really mattered to them. They are all so grateful, and their words of appreciation moved me deeply. They did a standing thank you, and I told them they were welcome, but it was you, my friends, who were providing all this.

Learning English here is different than for people from many other countries, since the Khmer language is really limited with respect to things like the Internet/computers, medication labels, and being able to evolve into a modern economy.

I would like to write pages about all the positive aspects of the school and what it seems to be providing the community; maybe later, but here’s one for now.

A 16 year old boy, Vibol, has been attending all of the classes, every day. I don’t spend much time at the school, but Sokchea went out of his way to tell me about Vibol, that he is clever, and really wants to learn. He told me that his father is always drunk, and he lives right across the alley from the school. His house is barely adequate for a chicken coup by our standards, and a family of 6 live there, including his blind uncle who plays a violin-like instrument quite beautifully. His family is so poor that he had to drop out of school recently at grade 6, since the schools are corrupt and students have to pay.

I remembered how being a teenager sucks in many ways, and felt his pain. He’s coming to school to get away from home, in part, I imagine. He’s shy and not particularly tough for that neighborhood. I sought out ideas from my community here, and just signed him up for a half-day English program at a private school ($8 per month), and loaned him a bike ($22) to get to school. I will try to find other options for him, such as a job-training program.

Stories From Cambodia - A Land of Sensory Overload

2006-07-28T07:47:00.000-07:00

Everyday I see children living in ways that no human should have to endure. I know about things that shouldn’t happen but do, and things that should happen but don’t. I think of the injustice, the challenges to helping them, the inequality to everything about my life verses theirs, the mounting problems I can’t fix; the disease that is spreading from one child to the next, their beautiful faces, their playful souls, their emotional needs that I can’t even scratch the surface in fulfilling, and the impossible task of ever saying good-bye.

I only recently thought of eventually saying goodbye - I simply can only see myself in hysterics looking at a line of faces, even the adults who are so hardened. The solutions to their problems are so far off. They are destined to untold suffering for their lives, to creating more problems in their children’s lives, and I could never be so idealistic as to think I can change all of that. There will be successes, and I can feel pride from these, but I know there are many barriers and overcoming them will be too slow, and in time, some of their lives will be quite sad. As Christian working in the area said, “there are always more problems than we can fix.”

Scandal, corruption, vices and sad realities are everywhere, including with the ex-pat population here. An American on trial for pedophilia let it be known that he had contributed a large amount of money for good causes during his time in Cambodia. It seemed his only defense. His pathetic statement really made me think.

Recently I was pulled over on my motorbike for the 5th time. Each incident of getting pulled over has been crazy, kind of fun, and every time the fines have been settled on the spot. To date, I have shelled out $9 for my lack of adherence to the traffic laws (it was supposed to be $8 but the cop shortchanged me once). On the last stop, the officers didn’t speak English, unlike all the previous stops. I had a boy on the back from the Center, Loun Ngoun, who has an outright sickly appearance.* The cops were forced to talk to him, and he explained that he is sick and I was taking him to the hospital. They let me go, despite my blatant breaking of the law.

* Loun Ngoun is 16 and is very weak, constantly tired, skinny, and has a persistent cough. He was on his way to get some blood work, which came back negative on all accounts. We are chalking it up to anemia/malnutrition, and I got him some supplements. I’ll try to feed him some as well, and hope for the best.

Some random stories:

Of all of the bizarre things I’ve experienced since arriving in Cambodia, my mom coming to visit is up there with the best of them. At 64 she had never left N. America, so to my family and me, it just didn’t seem possible that she would come here. She came, had a great trip (though she didn’t like the kids playing with her excess skin on her elbows), and will hopefully come again soon. Me, my mom, and her friend Sandra all went to Angkor Wat, which was amazing.

One day I noticed a child with a band of human hair tied tightly on his finger, which I could see was covering a cut. I’ve begun pulling out my first aid kit regularly, so I called the kid into the bathroom, and with Chin’s assistance got him to take off the improvised bandage. As always, there was a large crowd of kids. It immediately began gushing blood, and the kid was screaming. We ran some water and soap over it, and squirted iodine into the deep gash, but the kid was hysterical and it was a challenge to get him to stick around until I got a band-aid onto him. He was a kid from the neighborhood and ran away from me like I was the devil. I wasn’t sure if I made the right decision to try to help him. I asked his friend to deliver some band-aids to his house. I’m sure there’s a great analogy here, something involving looking below the surface (or not)… I just saw him after weeks and his fingered healed well.

Across the street from the Center was a community that was even poorer, which was mind-boggling. They have recently been evicted, forcibly (after the riot), and have been dumped into a field outside of town, where they have no services, income, or food, but many [often sickly] children. The village where the Center and schoolhouse are will be moved soon as well. The protests are beginning, and some hope that the government will look out for it’s people still exists.

I am studying Khmer, and can put together some phrases that often are understood!

The rainy season has begun. The monsoon rains are a sight to see, and cause all the streets to flood. Everyone here seems to like it when it rains, and often take in a shower under a downspout. It is still often hot, but much cooler than March – May.

I do sometimes feel sorry for myself for having to deal with the slow Internet connection speed here.

And now, some incomplete stories, which I may never take the time to write fully, but here is what I got:

Disease of the week – scabies. It’s a heinous mite that lives on your skin and clothes, causing pussy sores that are highly contagious.

I met a little young girl who’s mother tried to abort her (her adopted mom told me), first by drinking too much alcohol, then using red ants and honey (where did she put the red ants and honey, you might wonder?). The beautiful girl is emotionally challenged, but physically fine and in great hands.

A pregnant woman, Sitha, asked me for money. She really needed it for food, but I had to say no, mostly, and will always remember her looking me in the eyes, scared for her and her baby.

An older boy, “Lucky,” was bit on the foot 3 times in 2 weeks by rats while sleeping.

My translator, Chin, comes from a family of poor rice farmers (as are most people in Cambodia), and recently had 3 chickens and 2 cows die. His brother lives directly above the chickens, with just a bamboo floor separating him from the foul. We spoke to someone from the Pasteur Institute here and they said it was not likely Bird Flu, since all of the chickens didn’t die. See pictures from my visit there.

I saw the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen, and hope nothing ever tops it. Begging by the waterfront of the Mekong River, was a family with a baby with a head that was swelling from spinal fluid not draining properly. The 1 or 2 year-old looked unnatural, to the point that if a sci-fi movie replicated it, viewers would think it was really fake looking. I estimate the head was 20 inches in diameter. I was paralyzed by the sight, and immediately began to pray.

Some university English-majors have formed a club, “A to Inspire,” and have come to the Center as volunteers to lead trainings. It is inspiring, and I hope to work with them more.

A bat flew into a restaurant where I was eating one night, and the staff casually chased and trapped it, then took it outside.

I went with one of the staff from the Center, Ta, to see the breaker that was causing the electrical failures. We entered an apartment in a dilapidated building where a family lived, and electric meters and breakers were attached a piece of wood at the end of a bed, where a topless, 80 year old woman was waiting to die. I was told she hadn’t left her bed for 2 years.

A friend told me how his Khmer colleague returned to work after lunch one day, and was distraught because he had just killed a man on a motorbike with his car, and had to pay $500 to the family, which he didn’t have.

I watched a drunken man get beat by 2 women (one at a time).

We took kids to the mall for pizza, and afterward, out on the street, they ate fried bugs for dessert.

My friend Isaac had a recent encounter that is better than any story so far in my life (ask me to tell you someday).

People here do jobs that the rats and ants do in your country. I often watch the people process the garbage from my apartment.

The stories in the paper are amazing; land mines kill people regularly, sometimes carloads, a recent prison riot (where they buried all of the casualties in the prison yard) should be worthy of a movie script, people are constantly hacked with machetes and hatchets, jealous wives attack mistresses with acid to the face, which literally melts the skin, mass evictions, constant violations of human rights by the police and military… The legal trials of the Khmer Rouge leaders are about to start. Ta Mok, AKA “The Butcher,” a suspected Khmer Rouge military chief died of TB after years in prison, just weeks before his trial and possible valuable testimony.

Top 10 things I am grateful for;

10. Don’t have TB, AIDS, Malaria, Typhoid, Dengue Fever…
9. Never lived in a Khmer Rouge or refugee camp
8. Eat protein with every meal
7. Don’t have lice or scabies
6. Didn’t lose any family to war in my lifetime
5. Drink clean water
4. I’m literate
3. Have all my teeth
2. I didn’t get in a motorbike accident today1. My great apartment

Project Updates - July 2006

2006-07-28T05:09:00.000-07:00

I continue working daily with the kids at the Center, supporting them with English school (mostly at a private schools, though some go to Aziza Schoolhouse which is just down the alley), medical and dental needs, as well as small projects and supplies for the community, including working to improve the hygiene on the structural level and with the kids personally.

Good moments are constant (bad moments are only consistent). Two 16 year old girls, Syremom and Syremom, are now engaged in long days, 6 days per week, at a vocational school, CCF (www.cambodianchildrensfund.org), where they learn academics and job skills to work in a beauty salon (their passion). “Syremom 1” might have been the captain of the cheerleading squad if such a things existed here, and if she would have been able to stay in school. My partner-in-chaos, Nader, made a connection and got them into the school, and now they return back to the Center with an obvious sense of pride. They stand tall, and have hopes for a future that might not have existed otherwise.

At first their attendance was unacceptable, but for the past 6 weeks I have been giving them $10 per week to take a moto-taxi (moped), and they haven't missed a day since. It is a pretty long ride and the 2 of them share the moto, each sitting sideways behind the driver (facing opposite directions).

With no small amount of effort, we were able to get a boy to go off with an NGO, Hagar (www.hagarproject.org), and build a water filter for the Center. For weeks it seemed like the project would fail, but with an additional training from Hagar staff, the community began to see the value of clean water, and has been using it consistently.

The “we” I use in my stories has referred to all of the donors and supporters who make everything here happen. “We” also refers to the team we are now; Sokchea the original school teacher and manager, who has changed everything by taking the school to new levels, Phana and Chay, who are the new teachers and have already accomplished much (washing hands and brushing teeth before class!), Chin, my (paid) intern, who is an excellent translator and much more, as well as Nader. Huge contributions have been made by other volunteers who were gracious enough to work with us and continue what I either neglected or never got to, namely;

Prishila, the exotic S African-Indian living in London, who came for a month and worked diligently, bringing with her a budget to finance the projects (more on her accomplishments coming). She has stories and pictures on her blog:
http://enigma147.blogspot.com

Nancy, a Colorado girl friend-of-a-friend, who in a short time made some beautiful work with her paint brushes that make the school a place that rings of inspiration. Her blog:
http://www.ballofdirt.com/entries/11657/154101.html

Michele Novik, and her sidekick Stephanie, who came for 3 weeks and did so much, also financing her great projects.
http://trip2cambo.blogspot.com/

Prishila and Michele never met, but some of their projects overlapped and include the Locker Project, so all the kids now have a metal locker and lock for their things. Until now, they had nowhere to put their things – just piled them on the floor. Kids were taken to the dentist; I’d guess about 35 teeth have been pulled so far, getting kids to the doctor (for everything from scabies to rabies), turning a barefoot football (soccer) group into a fully uniformed team, a sink and counter in the kitchen, outfitting the classroom, kitchen, parties, and too many things to list.

There were some also some laid back Irish folk; Katharine, Isabel, and Mickey, who did some cool stuff, including creating a dining area with tables, and a spreadsheet of all of the kids. Lastly is a new volunteer who has real skills for these communities, Carly, who is undertaking hygiene (teeth-brushing) and nutrition training.

A friend of a friend, Sherry, came to visit. She is a particularly talented writer, and has posted some great pictures;
http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Cambodia/Phnom-Penh/blog-58844.html (genius I would say – check out all of her stuff).

Not everything works, and I have recently adopted the motto “I welcome failure,” because I feel it is my job to give kids a chance.

I now realize that by coming here to face the sadness, I have to face my anger, because behind many sad stories are real villains, people who inflict suffering onto others, people who’s hearts are black. The world will take a long time to fix. I have now lived these categories of emotion, and they have become a part of me.

There is plenty of emotion on the other side as well, since people are so damn funny. There are many characters here; amusing, entertaining, eccentric, often backward and rough. When a story unfolds that might be worth telling, the characters involved catapult the intensity of the humor into absurdity.

I will send the financial update to all the donors sometime soon. The project has already succeeded, and if I leave tomorrow, many kids are a little better off.

I imagine this has been the case all along with out having to say it, but I do want to ask that if you choose to give, make sure it really feels right for you. I am a conduit between your good-will and the kids here, and while it may sound a bit ‘out-there,’ the energy of this project is incredibly important.

My plans are as yet undetermined, but I will likely stay until the slum where the school and the Center are located is moved (I read they will build a mall there), when I will evaluate if I still want to be involved and if it looks like I can make a difference. I am guessing the move will happen around the end of the year. The relocation site will be far out of town, which poses many challenges. We are looking at making resources available for kids who get left out of the next plan.

Thank you all!

One Fine Day

2006-05-10T08:54:00.000-07:00

So much happens in my days, and April 5th was a particularly memorable day. Here’s the entry from my e-journal:

I couldn’t sleep very well last night. Two days ago, I got in a minor motorbike accident. It happened in a split second; a kid crashed into us from the side, and both bikes and drivers went down but I stayed standing. With the exception of a sore ankle, there was no damage. The “mother” of the guest house applied some traditional medicine to my ankle and that may be why I am walking almost normal today. The accident did give me some emotional baggage and the danger of the traffic here was in the forefront of my mind.

My day started out normal - breakfast with my Italian friend Michele (Michael). We laughed hard over the story of my dinner the night prior, where the Center director and assistant seemed so lost in a modern restaurant, and the assistant threw his pork rib bones on the floor. I still am laughing about that.

After breakfast I went to the Center and discussed different ideas on the construction of the latrines and kitchen. Some of the communication was understood and some wasn’t. Fortunately there is another American volunteer Nader, that I can talk to regularly to keep my sanity, discuss ideas, laugh about some of the characters we work with, etc. I sat down and some kids came were hanging on me when I saw a boy, T, had whose hair I have wanted to cut. I grabbed my new scissors out of my bag and starting cutting his bangs out of his eyes. It was harder than I thought it would be and I determined that wet hair is easier to cut, so I poured some water from my bottle over his head. The haircut came out pretty good and he seemed happy, then 3 other kids lined up for a Barber-Drew special, including a naked baby who wouldn’t stay still.

Quite pleased with the haircuts, I next got a moto (motorbike-taxi) ride back to my guesthouse. As we drove past the first building I looked to see why everyone was crowding around in the courtyard. There in the middle of a group of Khmer’s stood a white guy who was literally covered almost head to toe with blood; a motorbike accident I thought. I wanted to go on, let someone else help him, but after a half second of contemplation I jumped off and ran to see what I could do, and everyone pushed me up to take over the situation. “Do you speak English?” I asked. “Yes” he replied, in an American accent. His name was Brad, from Billings MT, and he said he didn’t know what had happened to him. He was extremely calm. I ran in my room and washed my hands, grabbed my first aid kit, and returned to wrap his cuts before we loaded him in a tuk tuk to go to SOS Clinic, a western run health center. I couldn’t get the small latex glove on so I just wrapped some gauze and tried to avoid contact. His fingers were cut deeply and it looked like a chicken gizzard was coming out of his finger. He also had other cuts on his body. The guest house staff went into his room and said his sink was broke and he must have cut himself on the porcelain. On the ride to the clinic, he asked me a few more times what had happened, and conversing with his blood-covered face was really weird.

I waited while they checked him out, and the doctor asked me if I could try to find out what had happened and call him back, since it seemed a bit suspicious. I went to the guesthouse, and followed a heavy trail of blood to his room where they had just begun to clean up. The sink was completely removed, and there was a trail of blood from the bathroom to his bed, then out the door, including blood footprints. I now realized that I was a crime scene detective, and tried to piece it together. He had walked out of the bathroom, sat on his bed and opened his first aid kit, strewn some things about, before walking out of the room. I looked for clues, and picked up a small bag with some hard drugs and a pipe. I thought heroine, but it could have been ice; a more potent form of crystal meth. I called the doctor and he said that was what he’d suspected, and that I should just leave the room and not say anything about it. No use in risking getting involved with the police here, and/or whoever else is involved.

So, I went to the restaurant and ordered food, then called Nader so I’d have someone to talk to. The ride in the tuk tuk with the blood-covered drug addict was like being in a science fiction movie, and I just wanted to tell my story to get it off my chest. Nader was in the middle of something when I called, but said he stop by in a few minutes. When he arrived, he was upset and began explaining he was at the Center when a young girl came in who had just been beat by her father with a bamboo stick, apparently quite badly. Key, a 10-year-old girl who had just started living at the Center within the last month, had visited her parents house which is in the next alley. Reportedly she had been unconscious afterward being beat, but after spending time with her later in the day it’s hard to imagine that was the case.
We called around to see what we should do, and Clara told us that in Cambodia it is a parent’s right to beat a kid, and that we should stay out of it for our safety. I went to the Center, and thought how social workers on TV react. I smiled at the girl, and gave her some toys from my nephew, a bag of cashews, a bracelet, and bracelets to her 2 sisters (“all stay together now girls”). She seemed happy with the presents, and a crowd of kids had gathered. I went into a room with her and her sister, and 2 adults, and asked her to show me her back. She had some long welts, but they looked OK. She said they hurt so I gave her an Advil. I took pictures, then looked at her and motioned to see if she wanted a hug. She hugged me and seemed like she didn’t want to let go. I picked her up and she was smiling and clinging to me. She is unbelievably gorgeous and could change the world with her smile and eye contact.

I carried her while I talked to the electrician (through my interpreter), stressing that all the electric he did and re-did needed to be kid-proof. The assistant at the Center was planning to wire the lights for the latrines, which would have been a disaster like the rest of the electric there, so I decided to hire a professional. Earlier I had asked Mr. Kim, the guesthouse owner, if he knew an electrician. He made a call and arranged for the man to come to meet me in 1 hour.

While waiting for the electrician to arrive, I told Mr. Kim that I thought his 13 year old son was a genius, and would be famous someday. Senghong is fluent in Khmer, English and Chinese, and runs the computer lab here. He also sings karaoke and seems to have a palyful self-confidence. He usually sleeps in the computer, and I wondered why the kid wasn’t put to bed at a proper time and place? (I later learned that he doesn’t like sleeping in the same bed with his older half-sister). Mr. Kim told me how when he was Senghong’s age, he was in a work camp under the Khmer Rouge, and was moving 5 meters of dirt everyday. For 1 of his years in the work camp, they were running out of food and would only get a little rice 1 time per day. In his village, 35 of the 37 families were killed. He showed me a scar on his arm where they tortured him and cut him to the bone. He said the character in the movie the Killing Fields didn’t have it so bad, and he was serious. His tragic yet fascinating stories went on for a while, then I gave him some ideas on improving his restaurant menu. He had worked in a mental health facility before opening the Okay Guesthouse.

The electrician was 20 minutes late. He charges $10 per day, and we made plans for him to work for 4 days starting the next day to install lights in 10 bedrooms, as well as the latrines, public areas, re-do all the existing wiring (most of it hangs about 6 foot high and has exposed wires). Materials will be $200. They use 220V single-phase electric here, and being the retired electrical-safety-training-salesman that I am, I decided this should be a priority.

The orphanage director said he’d talk to Key’s father, and I asked if I could take her and her 2 sisters to dinner (I thought they were her friends and only realized weeks later that they are sisters). She was still clinging to me, and smiling. More kids invited themselves, and it ended up being the 2 sisters, a friend, and an older boy who speaks English. The 5 of us starting walking in the midst of the rush hour traffic, me carrying the 5 year old sister, and holding hands with Key. We stopped by the English school where our kids go, and I was the brief guest speaker for 3 classes, then we took a tuk tuk to a restaurant for pizza. Key seemed so happy all night. All of the kids seemed amazed to be in a restaurant and spent quite a bit of time in the bathroom looking in the mirror and washing up. During dinner the doctor called me to let me know Brad was released and was flying to Bangkok to get further treatment. He suspected someone else was in the room but I don’t think it was the case. I’ll never know.

After dinner I dropped everyone off at the Center and a large group of kids were playing drums and singing. The director said to me that it was a good idea to take the kids out for the night. It was a big day.

Part II – The next day - update on Key

OK, it is really too crazy and wonderful what happened the next day. There are a few players and timeframes jump around so I hope you can follow;

The Friday prior to my last story about Key, 2 people from a western run orphanage, CCF (Cambodian Children's Fund) came to visit us at the Center. The founder, Scott, an English/Australian, quit his job as an executive with Fox Films in Los Angeles to start an orphanage in Cambodia, and Allie, an American/recent college grad (who has been amazingly helpful) looked around for an hour, during which time a girl at the Center who I didn't recognize had caught Scott's attention and he asked her some questions, then she hung around for a while.

Nader had met Scott and Allie and intrigued them enough so they took the time to pay a visit and see how they could help. After their visit they provided us with several excellent contacts, mosquito nets, fortified noodle packets, and offered to let 2 girls come join their beauty school training program.

When Nader had seen Key after her father had beat her, he talked to Scott and Allie about it. Somehow, they just knew it was the girl Scott had met the week prior and decided they would get involved. This is one the most unexplainable things I have witnessed; neither Nader or I had remember her, and with so many kids always running around, how did they know that the girl who was beat was the 1 girl they had met?

When I returned to the Center on April 6th, Scott, Allie, and their translator were at the Center and had some great plans for Key. They had spoke to the director at the Center and he had arranged for the father to come and complete paperwork to turn over complete care of Key to them. She will now go to live in a really nice building with 140 other kids like herself, and will have every need taken care of from clothing to excellent education to healthcare and nutrition. They have a computer lab, theatre and English classes, as well as job training for the teens. Most of the children at CCF come from the city dump, where they work picking garbage to sell to recyclers, and it apparently is the worst place in the world (I will visit soon). Apparently at times NGO’s essentially buy the children from their parents. Key's dad will receive $15 per month for a few months. Another organization I visited had just bought a young girl for $10.

I couldn't believe it was happening, and all so fast. My mind was racing on the ride to the airport to catch a flight to Malaysia.

Part III

Key has been interviewed and has stated that the abuse was limited to physical, and that her sisters were not abused. Three weeks later, CCF has taken in her 5 year old sister Syrerath, and they return to the slum to stay with their family some weekends. It ended up being me that drove Syrerath (I now have my own motorbike) to go live at CCF, and showing up to take a child from her mother was an emotional experience riddled with wonder. There was no touch. I kept waiting for her mother to give her a hug, to kiss her and tell her that she loved her so much that she would sacrifice the thing that mattered most to her sine it was in the child’s best interest. While I was puzzled about the missing interaction, I didn’t judge and deemed her mother to be quite a good mom, who seemed to be quite together. Their shack was certainly nicer than many in the neighborhood. The same girl who had been so eager to ride on my shoulders on the way to get pizza was now scared as she held onto my handlebars on the drive across town.

That night, the father came to the Center just before I arrived, and was upset and angry because his daughter had left with me and wasn’t returned. Apparently the communication has been dropped, and he thought she was just visiting for the day, and had expected her home by now. Nervously, my translator Chin and I walked down the maze of alleys to his house to apologize. My favorite boy T, a small 12 year old, seemed to know what was going on and stayed at my side to protect me.

Adults looked up from their card games (gambling) and kids gathered around. One girl was standing by me smiling and I realized she had web fingers and no toes. The father was tense, and after some discussion said he would to agree to let her stay if he could see the facility and visit at any time. After he and Chin talked, he came to understand that she was taken to the same facility where Key was and it was no problem. He smiled and I smiled back nervously, we shook hands then brought our hands together at our chest to show respect, then we left, an entourage of kids hanging on.
Brad is now staying at my guesthouse again, and I pretend not to recognize him.