Sunday, 16 May 2010

What Did We Learn?

Well, that's it - time to go home, so this will be our last Camboblog. But just before we click our heels three times, if our aim was to share skills, what have we gained from the experience?

Daily Living

Ants. A plague on them and their little formic acid-filled bodies! Especially after the sweet delights recently took up residence in Perry's towel and decided to stake their claim for ownership by biting every bit of his body that he put it on when getting out of the shower. There are just some parts of the body that a civilised chap should never have injected with ant venom. We've also learned that they love coffee even more than sugar. Having a bunch of biting, stinging ants whizzing around your kitchen, totally wired up on caffeine, is even more fun than normal. Message: wash up your cup and never, never spill any when you're filling the cafetiere in the morning. And shake your towel. Really hard.

Dogs are not your best friends - not here in Cambodia, anyway. There's one local rat-like beast that's taken to incessant high-pitched barking from long before dawn until everyone in the neighbourhood is well and truly awake. I've started to dream about drop-kicking its backside right across the Mekong to Vietnam to see what will happen once it's woken up a few of the dog-loving gourmets over there...

Never look up when riding your bike home after dark, unless you enjoy the sight of rats running along the telephone lines above your head. Never look up when entering your abode at night either. In this case, you're just better off not knowing what's above you.


This beauty was spotted by Sarah above our heads on the ceiling outside our front door when we got home one evening recently. It was the size of a large dinner plate. Fortunately, the soiree had been just convivial enough for us to summon up the courage to go past it (Sarah) / go past it without even noticing it (Perry). If you look at the picture close up, you'll see it was so big that it was actually wearing a head torch.

On the other hand, you need to get out of the city to find something really huge in your doorway: this chap from Kampot in the South was a good 2½ feet long. You have to eat a lot of bugs to get that big, but then he did have a nice mouthful of nasty sharp pointy teeth to help him eat just about anything he wanted. Not so much a lizard, then, more a wall monster. The really scary thing is that they sometimes fall: one evening a small one fell off our balcony ceiling, straight on to Perry, who was dozing in the hammock below. It landed right in his groin (to put it politely). Both participants were somewhat surprised by the encounter but survived unscathed. On balance, Perry's quite grateful it wasn't this one that fell on him just in that particular location. OK, so do look up from time to time.


We know that we've got a large tokay living in our roof as we hear it every evening, but we've never seen it. On the other hand, we've never seen Shelob again, so long live Geckzilla.


Never look down, either. Going to the bathroom in the middle of the night and finding loads of cockroaches running around on the floor is almost as bad as finding the same cockroaches dead on the bathroom floor in the morning. What did they die of?


Believe us, this is a small one!

Science & Technology

Ever wondered what happens when the dynamo on your bike goes underwater? We don't know how, but it keeps on working and produces some lovely effects as it lights up the rotting fruit and veg that are washing by as you ride past the market through the evening's flash flood. So what does that tell us? That, to paraphrase dear old Patrick Moore, physics is bunk. At least, here in Cambodia.


Sarah will miss riding her bike everywhere. Perry will miss riding his bike everywhere like a loony.

What you don't know can't hurt you. According to a recent government report, the air quality in Phnom Penh continues to improve: apparently, there is less woodsmoke and less sand in it. When asked about diesel particulates from the ever-increasing traffic, the government's response was "we don't measure that." A Japanese team did. They found that the level of diesel particulates was the highest they had ever measured. Anywhere. In which case, don't hold your breath for the government to start measuring it (because then they might come under pressure to do something about it, and we can't have that). On the other hand, do hold your breath when you're cycling through the traffic. Apparently, there is no phrase in Khmer for 'tune up.'

Just because you've got a car doesn't mean you have a clue how to drive it. Driving standards round here are sometimes rather like giving the car keys to a six year old and then sending him/her out into the street. And then giving them a bottle of whiskey in the evening to go with it.

Perry's personal favourite: a woman who just kept on going when coming out of a side road (absolutely standard, and looking first - or even at any point - is certainly not compulsory) and, when realising she was about to hit the two cyclists right in front of her (Perry and Adam), rather than putting her foot on the brake or doing anything with the steering wheel, put her hands over her face. Luckily, her victims had seen this coming from about 50 yards back and were already stood up on the pedals and taking evasive action. She missed us (or, more correctly, we missed her), though I doubt she actually knows that.


Another good one was being in a taxi that was the third in line abreast overtaking around a blind bend - so far over on to the wrong side of the road that we we weren't even on the road any more but the sand and dirt that runs alongside it. The road that has the heaviest truck and bus traffic in the whole of Cambodia. In the busiest part of the day. Cambodians call them the "Killing Taxis." It's not hard to see why.

First prize, though, for considerate and sensible driving usually goes to the Toyota Land Cruiser (and its Lexus cousin) - the vehicle of choice for corrupt elites in the developing world. More on this one later!

Health and Nutrition

You can get very fed up of eating rice. Very, very fed up. On the other hand, there is just about nothing that was once alive that you can't eat. Even if you would really, really rather not.


"Get your bugs here! Lovely fresh bugs! Pick'n'mix our speciality!"


"Four-inch grasshopper madam? Certainly. How about a nice fresh spider for afters? Or would you prefer to pick your own?"

No apologies for repeating the picture above; we think you should have every opportunity to study it closely. Apparently, the leg meat is particularly good.

Eating is a two-way thing, though. Some of the animals here love to share your meals and adore your company (and blood, and flesh). You're never alone while they're around. It helps that the conditions inside you (warm, wet) are pretty much the same as the conditions outside you around here, so the little sods don't have to do anything clever to avoid being killed off by the cold. And, to add insult to injury, you also get worse colds in the heat than you do in the cold.

And now the VSO Premiership disease scores for 2008 - 2010:

Malaria 2, Dengue Fever 8
Typhoid 5, Typhus 1
Cholera 1, Japanese Encephalitis 0
Salmonella 2, Giardia 10 (at least - and that's just in Phnom Penh)

The high-scoring local derby game between Other Gastric Ailments and Other Parasites is still playing, although Perry has just scored a late own goal with worms in his foot. Which helped him to reach an all-time personal best of 11 pills, 7 ointment applications and 8 drops per day:

4 pills and 5 applications for the worms.
8 drops for fungus in the ear.
5 pills and 2 applications for doing his back in - sitting at his desk, of course! (plus physio, although not every day, so it doesn't count towards the total).
1 pill for blood pressure and one mineral supplement just for luck, although this was dissolved in water to add a nice bit of variety (and to reduce the rattling as he rode to work).

On the other hand, we now know what mangoes are supposed to taste like. Until we came here, we had no idea.


Another mango? Do you think they just grow on trees?

Other fruit is just as delicious, even if we still don't know what it actually is a lot of the time.



Mostly delicious, that is. There are one or two things that instantly suck every drop of moisture out of your entire head, but the food around here is live and learn. Provided you get past the first step of the process, of course. And remember, just because a seagull wouldn't eat it doesn't mean that you can't.

Culture

Musical progress goes backwards. Witness the hideous arrival of Camborap. It wouldn't be so bad if they turned it down from the approximate 200 decibels (Concorde taking off was 119 and an earthquake is up to 140. Apparently, a moon rocket launch is 205, so that feels about right). It would then just be ambocrap (think I might have to copyright that word). It can make you almost nostalgic for Cambopop and karaoke. Almost.

On the other hand, traditional Khmer music is rather lovely and makes a perfect match to the smiles you encounter from the ordinary folk all around you. And when it's matched with other traditional art forms, it can be quite magical.


So, we'll miss the beautiful things but won't miss the LCD cr*p. What does that show? That while culture is often unique, bad taste is probably universal.

Politics and the Political Classes


Parasites are apparently endemic in Cambodia. Oops - silly me - that should of course have been under the health section.

In politics as in health, partnerships can be mutually beneficial. If China builds you a road, it's because they want what's at the end of it. If they're willing to pay for it, the appropriate individuals in the Cambodian government are happy to sell it. If it's not worth any money (like, for example, Uighur asylum seekers), then they'll give it for free. Isn't that generous? Of course it's not tied to the $1.2 billion grant that was signed off two days later! We're sure the politicians will use all that money wisely. Based on claims made by a number of sources (including the US Ambassador, and good for her for saying it out loud), it should nicely cover the misappropriation rate for just over two whole years.


A new road through the forest gives you that ideal opportunity to cut down the last of those pesky (but valuable) trees, with the excuse of creating plantations. Unfortunately, though, no-one involved has apparently ever heard of soil erosion. But never mind, at least it's stopped us from having to worry about the fate of the few remaining tigers.

A 'democratically' elected (see the next paragraph), free market-oriented, Communist-based, dictatorially-led, control-obsessed single ruling party in an autocratic, hereditary, constitutional monarchy with a culture of hierarchy and subservience sounds like it might be a little lacking in clarity of strategic thinking (amongst other things). It does, however, beat some of its predecessors (even if it actually includes quite a few of them). Away with the Khmer Rouge, in with the Khmer Riche: from genocide to kleptocracy in a single career. They say that very few people on Earth deserve the government they've got. Some don't deserve it more than others, though.

And they haven't deserved it for quite a long time, too. Let's go through the cv: defect from the Khmer Rouge and get installed by the Vietnamese after their invasion. Stay until the UN comes in and then cling on through the transition. Hold elections because the constitution drafted by the UN requires you to. Lose the first election but refuse to give up power and force the UN to agree to having 2 Prime Ministers. Stage a military-backed coup d'état to get rid of the other Prime Minister. Use violence to intimidate your opponents at the next election (hand grenades thrown into opposition rallies are quite good for this). Just before the latest election, build lots of roads (with no maintenance), schools (with no books or teachers) and clinics (with no doctors or medicine) for villagers with votes, after completely ignoring them for years. Make sure all these nice new things are named after you, in case they forget who to thank.

Call it "development" and claim responsibility for anything good that happens, whilst spending most of your time undermining the organisations that dare to point out the emperor's rather bare bottom and have the gall to try to recommend a good tailor. 30 years since the Khmer Rouge fell. 20 years since the Vietnamese left. 12 years since the civil war ended. And, according to the UN, the gap between rich and poor here is the highest there has ever been for a country at this stage of development. It's progress, Jim, but not exactly as we know it.

Oh, and the latest initiative is to get rich businesses (oddly enough, mostly run by politicians from the ruling party, but I'm sure that's only a coincidence) to pay for the army. Directly, to the local commanders. Of course it won't lead to private armies, the Prime Minister says so! Although it's a little odd that an ex-Khmer Rouge battalion is now reported to be guarding some 'economic land concession' owned by a CPP senator against the protests of the local people who claim that the land has been stolen from them and that they were forcibly expelled from it. Although, in this case, apparently by the police, so that's a relief. However, according to a government spokesman, none of this is the case and it's all the fault of climate change.

There are lies, damned lies, statistics, and... For example, according to Cambodian government statistics, record numbers of children recently completed their primary education. In fact, a rather higher percentage than actually started it if you actually check any of the previous statistics. And if you ignore any of the drop-outs before you reach the final year. If you only count those who actually register for the final year against those who are still registered at the end of it, rather than worrying about difficult things like how many children there actually are, though, you can finally achieve one of the key education targets. Even if it means not worrying about how you went from less than 40% to more than 80% overnight. Just make sure that you claim credit for it.


Bringing a whole new level to the old Alice Cooper hit 'School's Out.'

Also, a dramatic drop in the reported disability rate is trumpeted as a huge stride forward. There can only be a couple of reasons for this: either the latest statistics are wrong (which might just be the case according to just about everyone working in the sector), or a huge number of people with disabilities have got better over the last 5 years (legs have grown back, sight returned, that sort of thing). If it's the latter, then the government should certainly claim credit for it.

In the meantime, prepare to dam the river that is already under severe stress but that still provides the source of over 80% of the protein in your (often inadequate) diet. But then, who can turn down 5 billion of Chinese investment? Quick - find some more Uighurs!


The water level of the Mekong has recently been at a 50-year low. Just the time to reduce it even more.

And that's progress for you; at least, according to the interminable speeches of some politicians about how well the country is developing under the brilliant/inspired/wise/courageous/magnificent (delete as applicable, you'll have plenty of opportunity to use the others later in the speech) leadership of El Magnifico (or the man behind the screen, as some of us prefer to think of him).

So, we've come up with the three principles of politics:

1. The ability of politicians to think is generally inversely proportional to their desire to speak.

2. The length of politicians' speeches is generally inversely proportional to their accuracy and relevance.

3. The accuracy and relevance of politicians' speeches is generally directly proportional to their service to the populace.

Which all leads to the conclusion that Churchill was wrong: democracy isn't the worst possible form of government apart from all the rest. It just depends on how you do it. But let's celebrate that in song!

Busy Doing Government

With apologies to the original song “Busy Doing Nothing” (words, Johnny Burke, music, James Van Heusen) sung by Bing Crosby, William Bendix, and Cedric Hardwicke in the film, "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court," 1949.

We're busy doing nothing, working the whole day through,
Trying to find lots of things not to do.
We're busy going nowhere. Isn't it just a crime?
We'd like to be unhappy but we never do have the time.

We have to count the money, to see that it doesn't stop,
Then buy another Lexus, so they all know who's on top.
Better keep the Chinese cheerful and give them the Uighur bunch.
Hustle, bustle, and only three hours for lunch.

We're busy doing nothing, working the whole day through,
Trying to find lots of things not to do.
We're busy taking money. Surely that's not a crime?
We'd like to serve the country but we never do have the time.

We have to sell the land off to anyone who will pay.
And then inspect the army, so they'll all be bright and gay.
We must rehearse the Party, to see that they sing in key.
Waffle, waffle, and never a moment free.

We're busy doing nothing, working the whole day through,
Trying to find lots of things not to do.
We're busy cutting trees down, even though it's a crime.
We'd like to help the people but we never do have the time.

We'll have no opposition, we'll hear no dissenting call.
And we'll ignore the UN, we'll say they know bugger all.
As for our mighty leader, well he always knows the best.
Grovel, grovel, we never have time to rest.

We're busy doing nothing, working the whole day through,
Trying to find lots of things not to do.
We've such a hectic schedule. Isn't it just a crime?
We'd like do our job but we never do have the time.

Perhaps strange women lying in ponds and distributing swords isn't such a bad system of government after all...


Cambodia has no shortage of lakes. However, they do not appear to contain any watery bints (or Ladies, if you prefer) but rather a selection of things that bite, sting and get under your skin. Oh - and fish, apparently, according to Perry.


Transport

What a poor country needs is luxury cars. Lots of them, so that the hoi polloi can see what they could be aspiring to, instead of just expiring from disease, malnutrition and neglect. The most suitable ones are Cadillacs, Lexuses and Hummers, although the odd Audi TT or Porsche will also come in handy around town and a new Mercedes always speaks volumes about you; after all, Pol Pot had one. But it's a bloody poor show when you spend more than 2 years in a country where the average income is somewhat less than $2 per day and you only see one Rolls Royce and 3 Bentleys (and only 1 of them a convertible!). About time these people got a proper grip of all that aid money and spent more of it on obscenely ostentatious BRITISH luxury goods! Although, to be fair, we have recently started seeing increasing numbers of Range Rovers (top-of-the-range rovers, of course).


The Minister, a true man of the people, travels home in his limo after completing his "hectic schedule" (always referred to in the introgrovel to any ministerial appearance as the thing he has had to take time out from).


Meanwhile, ordinary country folk make their way to and from the fields in comfort thanks to the riches made available to all by the beneficence of the government.

People

It's bizarre how a country can appear to be populated by two entirely different species. Apart from the political class (and hasn't Cambodia been served well by them over the decades?), the people here are kind, cheerful (most of the time) and often highly dedicated. They're sometimes a bit lacking in the tools to make them as effective as they could be, but that's not very surprising. They're certainly lacking in the opportunity to make real improvements to their country.

The general situation is perhaps best summed up by a civil servant, who shall remain nameless: "we entered the government service because we thought that our generation could make real changes to Cambodia. But we can do nothing because of those above us."

That's not quite true: they do make a difference by their efforts. Bit by bit, things are improving for many, if not all, of the people of Cambodia. Both those in the local NGOs and those at the working level in many
(although certainly not all) government departments are doing just about everything they can, and they are achieving results for the people they care about. But we know they despair when they think how much could have been achieved for the people of this country over all those years and with all that money if it hadn't been diverted by a few people whose honesty is often matched only by their competence.

In the meantime, a mid-ranking civil servant, the kind of person who should be the engine-house of national development, gets paid about $75 a month by his grateful government. How people like this keep working in such an environment is almost beyond us and fills us with admiration for them. And one day those above them will finally be gone and these dedicated people will really make that difference. Our hearts will be with them.

The Bottom Line

For those of you reading this in your cozy Western democracies, just one piece of advice: hold the bastards to account. If you don't like them, vote against them - don't just give up and do nothing. Don't worry that the other guy's not much better, because at least he or she's not had the chance to get entrenched, and they might from time to time look over their shoulders to see when their turn for the heave-ho might be coming if they don't play their cards right. For those old enough, remember how much you enjoyed the look on Michael Portillo's face that night - and think how it's changed him! Give a loud hurrah when a particularly odious one goes to jail. Because no-one who wants to rule the world should ever, ever be allowed to. But, unfortunately, they don't see it that way and don't see why you should be allowed to stop them.

At least, that seems to us to be the one big lesson that we can take home from Cambodia.
Because, otherwise, you could be in for a wee patch of trouble...

Now, must go off and listen to a Sarah Palin speech. Thank you and good night!


Footnote

To put it less politely, he was hit right in the b******s by a flying lizard. How many people who've not been to Cambodia can say that?

Saturday, 10 April 2010

Last few months

Having celebrated Happy Marry Christmas last blog, it is time to reminisce over Happy International New Year!

It was decided that DAC would finally have a 'retreat' (like all good team building NGOs do in order to plan things, discuss future direction etc.) except we've never even actually got round to discussing or planning a retreat before... It would be at what is known here as International New Year and at the beach in Sihanoukville. Suffice it to say we got there eventually.

A convening of the senior management team discussing budgeting strategy for the forthcoming year.


Leadership skills - a practical demonstration.


The serious consultative session gets underway


As you see, Perry was kindly included in the DAC invite, and a fab seaside fun time was had by all. The two of us stayed on for the weekend and met up with Susy and Vic on New Years Day. I think in this picture they had currently been awake for about 48 hours, which is why they need Perry to lean on.


Samphors and I putting the final touches to the funding proposal to the UN which has taken up a good deal of time and thought over the last half of the year - hope it's accepted, won't know til after I leave which is a shame.


My close colleague and friend Sokhim with his lovely family at the birthday party of another friend's daughter. The look on the childrens' faces is the stock one of bewildered shock at a barang pointing a camera at them.


The last get together at Snow's bar of most of the remnants of the dream team that descended into Cambodia on 4th March 2008. Bit browner, (except David who mysteriously retains his ethereal paleness, to be fair I don't think I've often seen him in daylight hours), but no less loopy.


March 3rd. Training in Ratanakiri on the leaflet we developed to help teachers identify children with disabilities in their classrooms and offer some advice and tips on improving access to learning. This was in the Provincial office of Education in a province which is still densely forested and largely inaccessible. As was the room.

It, as you can see, is completely filled with monumentally heavy wooden furniture which was impossible to move and made it a very difficult to do anything once the participants were sat down. It was a complete analogy of Cambodia really - a lot of education money will have been spent at some point in making these public office rooms look, well...officious, and a hell of a lot of precious timber has been, and still is, chopped down to carve into vast pieces of furniture, pillars, giant elephants (to replace the extinct ones) and - most ironic of all - twisty complicated tree type sculptures!


This, on the other hand, was a couple of days later in Mondulkiri, where the Provincial Office was much more adaptable and our session far easier to facilitate. Which is also a fair reflection of how there is progress as well as frustration, and why we shouldn't make blanket generalisations.


For those of you interested in where your snacks come from, this is a cashew nut, on a tree in Ratanakiri, where they are harvested. A most peculiar nut as it grows outside the fruit, which turns yellow then red and is vaguely edible (very drying to the mouth though. The nut grows underneath and gets smaller and grey brown. It then has to be cooked for 8 hrs apparently before being safe to eat. I'm surprised they are not more expensive than they are as there are not that many on a tree.


No, this is not a random photo of Exmoor, but of a woodland stream in Mondulkiri, which is a most beautiful province with mile after mile of rolling hills filled with forests of what look like deciduous trees, birches, pines and so forth.


I was lucky to spend the afternoon after the training here, accompanied by Jeltje and her assistant Chak. I had a great time sitting on the back of his motorbike on the empty red dirt roads, admiring the lovely scenery, taking photos and wondering how the hell they all cope in the rainy season when the whole place turns into a giant red mudbath.


Back to snacks - this extremely large tarantula was one of the (as yet unfried) snacks on offer at one of the the stops on our epic, and much doubted by more experienced folk, one day trip between Ratanakiri and Mondulkiri.


Needless to say I declined the temptation and Remy and I bought delicious pineapple, pomelo and bananas.


Sokhim however is clutching his bag of prize crickets carefully selected from the barrel below.

'Delicious and protein rich' ...


...and you know what he's quite right. Crunchy, chewy and prawn like, cooked in garlic, salt and chilli. Mind, you could cook quite a few things like that and they would probably be edible too.


Although these 2 Eastern provinces are next to each other, it is impossible to get between them directly except through the jungle on dirt bikes. Not an option for those of us not used to such intrepid forms of transport and also carrying a load of workshop materials. We were told by many people that it couldn't be done in one day, but obstinacy prevailed and, after being told that the bus for which I had ordered tickets was 'already broken' (phew! not half an hour after we started and were left stranded in impenetrable jungle then), I sourced a minibus back to Kratie and a taxi to Mondulkiri. Actually I asked our guest house manager and he sourced it. I find that most things can be sourced if you ask people and make it clear that you will pay a reasonable price for what you need.

So, a long day, but thanks to the recently built very good road on the last leg, not a bad journey. Those of us of a cynical disposition do wonder why a certain large country to the east would spend billions of dollars on a superb road which only goes to a heavily forested border province with no other resources and then into Vietnam. I expect it is to make it easier to export all the rubber from the plantations that are replacing the stands of pine trees on the highest hills. Except that I've seen those plantations and unless rubber trees grow at a phenomenal rate, once the rains start in a couple of months there is going to be an awful lot of bare red soil sliding down those hill sides...


This is a project in Kampot in the south which I visited with my colleague Chan, who has recently taken responsibility for our committee on children with intellectual disabilities. As a group, these are undoubtedly the most disadvantaged and misunderstood people in Cambodian society, where anyone with any disability is generally regarded as either a burden or to be pitied or reviled, rather than helped to get on with their lives. Another generalisation, but consider the attitudes to disability 50yrs or so ago in UK and it's not dissimilar. Anyone who is interested in the subject - this is the title of an excellent and very accessible report from one of our organisations last year, just type it into Google - Toward a Cooperative Approach; Hagar Report 2009.



Claire in the photo is a VSO volunteer with a background in special education who has formed a good relationship with this particular UK based NGO, EpicArts. They run a community based performing arts project for young people with disabilities, many are deaf. They do a really wonderful job of spreading the message throughout the country at events and workshops, that people with disabilities have many abilities and a lot to offer. A young man with Down's syndrome was attending the centre, but was not really having his needs addressed. With support from Claire, the Peace Class was set up which provides a space for 2 different age groups of children and young people with intellectual disabilities, and their families, to learn some social and life skills. Chan and I spent a wonderful morning in the class. The class has no funding itself and is very worthwhile supporting, the teacher could do with an assistant for a start. We shall be supporting the class in a small way once we get back to UK, anyone who is interested in any of the great work of this dynamic and extremely effective small organisation, here is the link http://www.epicarts.org.uk/cambodia/

Well, this being Cambodia, it is Happy Khmer New Year tomorrow and I'm off to a yoga retreat for 4 relaxing days in the beautiful Kampot/Kep countryside. Then 4 more days of work and, due to the fact that I have a lot of leave left untaken, that is the end of my placement with DAC and VSO.

This still being Cambodia, this is me, Seka and Reaksah at my farewell party, 2 weeks before I actually leave DAC. Reaksah is the 3 year old grand daughter of our driver and cleaner who comes with them to work every day. She stays all day and is a little sweetie who has learned to run errands between our little rooms and calls me Yay (Granny) Sarah (pronounced as do all Khmer people like Hurrah!) And that's the last picture you'll see of me in a hammock I promise!



That was the penultimate blog from us. There will be one more, set up to publish on the day we leave - 15th May. So long Cambodia, and in the words of Douglas Adams, 'Thanks for all the fish'...and much more besides.

VSO is a leading development charity with almost 1,500 skilled professionals currently working in over 34 countries. VSO's unique approach to international development is founded on volunteers, working together and with local communities to fight poverty and achieve lasting change. If you want to learn more about VSO, please visit www.vso.org.uk

Sunday, 10 January 2010

Oh No It Isn't!

On 6th December I, together with a good group of VSOers and many other people (around 3000) of different nationalities, including Cambodian amputees, gathered at Angkor Wat for another half marathon, 10k, 5k, 3k, depending on level of fitness/sanity. I had been determined to do the half this year but when it was clear that we would be returning less than 2 weeks before from a long trip back to UK, with little opportunity for training, I went for the 10k again. What a great morning - this is Angkor Wat as we watched the sunrise, 15 min or so before start time.

This is a group of us at the end of our race


Just before Christmas, the local am dram group, the Phnom Penh Players, put on a pantomime, co -written and directed by our friend Adam. Snow White and the Jackson Five. It was brilliant. Unfortunately I haven't got many photos as I didn't like to take them during the performance, but it was enormous fun. I did the makeup and there was a 'chorus' of sweet little dwarves, children of some of the expats advisers and consultants who live in Phnom Penh.


Perry was the Evil Henchman and loomed on and of fthe stage at various key points in a dark suit and sunglasses looking menacing. He did have a nasty moment the first time he went off into the wings and realised it was completely black with his sunglasses on, but I don't think anything was too badly damaged. All the songs were clever rewrites of Michael Jackson songs to fit the predictably convoluted plot, and very funny. The star of the show was without doubt the deliciously Wicked Queen aka Raymond the Philippino lawyer, pictured below in his fabulous stage makeup (not by me but a professional makeup artist). I think I'd borrowed his lippy without asking again at this point.


A few days later, it was Christmas. A normal working day, and last year we did just that, but this year we decided to take a couple of days and go to Kratie to see our friend Susan. There are quite a few other volunteers there and the plan was to get together and make things as Christmassy as possible with food either brought by us from UK or made in Kratie with great ingenuity, lots of games, and a roast dinner on Christmas day evening at Joe's Cafe, run by an exceedingly camp and affable guy from Chicago. On Boxing Day, Perry & I would finally go and see the endangered Mekong River dolphins while there are still some to see.

First we had to get there:

All was going well, the bus was what I like to call a 'turn it up' bus - the air con was blowing arctic the whole way, with the mostly Khmer passengers suffering from hypothermia, the recorded karaoke tracks on the television were at full volume, and every time we stopped, more people got on and we all breathed in a bit more. Still, no problem until about 15k from Kratie at 3pm when we stopped by the side of the road for no apparent reason. It soon did become apparent however, when we saw all the coolant pouring out into the road. It wasn't a bad spot at all, the sun was not too fierce, a traveling snack van pulled up and sold us cakes and drinks, and we were not next to either someone's house, land, or impenetrable forest - we could wander into the scrubby woodland & avail ourselves of the bushes etc. There was very pleasant company, and all in all quite a picnic air. You may just be able to make out, behind our fixed grins, that the name of the bus company is the Sorya Transport Company, pronounced Sorrier. As in you couldn't be sorrier if you use them. But that joke, which was quite funny nearly 2 years ago when we first used them is getting a bit old now...


However, after about a hour, when we had watched the driver & his buddies take everything mechanical possible out of the back of the bus, take it apart and put it together again...twice...with the compulsory blows with a hammer at intervals, and we had then watched them give up and try blocking the leak by shoving a kramer (the ubiquitous checked scarf) down the pipe, I felt action was called for.

[Short digression here- all repair jobs here demand the use of a hammer, it doesn't usually help]

So I called Suzy, at the time on her way back from a remote health centre on her motorbike, to ask if she could arrange for someone to pick us up. Yes she could, Hak would be there in his tuktuk. I worked out this should take about 40min. After about 25 min there was that peculiarly Cambodian call of 'we go now!' which does mean just that, in any given situation. You can have been hanging around for hours with no indication that anything will ever happen again, and then some mysterious part of the puzzle will turn up and they go now... without you if you are not damn quick. We had a brief domestic incident about whether we could grapple the boy in charge of bags into finding ours and unloading them (not likely to be fair), and a speedy debate about the fairness to our approaching white knight, and decided that if we wanted to be reunited with our luggage we had better get on the bus.

I phoned Suzy and asked her to assure Hak that we would pay him for the full journey and he could just turn round in his tuk tuk and head back - I had a sinking feeling that this would be a mistake, and lo and behold about half a mile down the road - ppsshhclunk. At this stage it was about 4.45. I called Suzy, she called Hak, he was now on his way back to Kratie & would be late for his evening job if he turned back. What about motorbikes? This was arranged (bearing in mind Suzy was still trying to drive home herself). Another 10 mins of fiddling about ... ' We go now'. Oh no we don't!! After a somewhat terse exchange of views (no way was I getting back on that sodding bus and having half of Kratie aimlessly searching for us on random modes of transport), our bags were left, and so were we, much to the amusement of the other passengers and the bewilderment of the villagers who were starting to assemble at a safe distance, bemused by the pair of idiot barangs standing by the side of a darkening unlit country road with 2 kitbags & 2 bike helmets.

Reader - they mocked us.

Not in an overt way of course, but they mocked all the same, standing in small groups, looking our way and grinning, but AT us rather than WITH us. I am fairly sure that at least one man had a phone, and mates with motos, because every few minutes, one would stop hopefully next to us. Now, it did then strike us that we had absolutely no idea what our real moto drivers, sent from Kratie, would look like. It was a pretty good bet that they wouldn't have any English and my Khmer isn't really up to complex discussions about whether they had actually been sent by someone in Kratie, and anyway whatever you say to a moto driver, he just grins broadly and says YES (Ba!) with complete confidence thus: ' Do you know where I live?' - Ba! Do you know where I live in Reading, Berkshire? - Ba! Are you a complete stranger to Phnom Penh and thus have no idea where you are yourself - Ba!

However, aha! we did know which direction Kratie was, and these guys were all coming from where we'd just been, and also our guys should turn up as a pair. So we waited, and dismissed motos, much to the growing amusement and incredulity of the villagers. Perry was getting very nervous, what with it getting dark, and no lights, and the prospect of either being taken captive by the village (not really likely) or killed in a horrific accident on an unlit road once we eventually got our moto lifts (quite likely, to be fair again). But he's just a big scaredy cat. A lady in a Lexus tried very hard to give us a lift and was obviously amazed by our stupidity. She announced that it would be fine, we could easily call our guesthouse and cancel the lifts we had ordered. Try explaining to a middle class Cambodian lady that we were not staying in a guest house but with a friend who had already sent out one abortive rescue mission while surreptitiously kicking your husband on the shin to stop him accepting her offer. Anyway, our heroes finally turned up and after a very pleasant ride through a beautiful Kratie sunset, we arrived at our destination. Much to our annoyance we did not pass the wretched bus broken down on the way, but found out later that it had stopped at every farm on the way to fill up with water and so did not arrive much before us.

When I say 'our' destination that's not exactly accurate. As we approached the turn off for Suzy's house I very clearly said 'turn left here', in very clear khmer (and it really is impossible not to understand that very simple direction, especially when accompanied by vigorous pointing) Once we'd sailed past, I then tried the same with 'go back', 'next to the wat', 'Suzy's house' etc and could see Perry doing the same. What did we know? We obviously wanted to go to Joe's cafe and meet Mr. Hak. Who told them to turn round, go back, next to the wat and to Suzy's house. We paid them about 3 times what they could have expected and with quick glances at each other to ascertain that we really were giving them that each, they zoomed off before we changed our minds.

As we entered Suzy's courtyard, we noticed that it was all very dark, maybe she was not back yet? As we walked up the wooden staircase we heard a despondent wailing coming from inside as she emerged from the gloom in a towel, 'There's no f.....g power and there's no f.....g water! (I would like to report that she used the word 'flaming' but she is a New Zealander, so no one would believe me). That was to be the scenario for the next 3 days over Christmas as soon as the sun went down.

However, we had a lovely time, a lot of it by candlelight! This is Roger who played us jazzed-up snippets of Christmas carols for us to guess at the lunch party he & Suzannah put on for us all on Christmas Day, with great games they had devised to keep us fully amused. I can't believe how incredibly bad I was at that game!


Holly and I on our 3rd piece of Christmas cake. Actually - looks like she'd finished the cake by then and was on to the mince pies...


On Boxing Day, we went out in a boat, just the two of us and the boatman, to see the Mekong River Dolphins. After seeing quite a few swimming near us, we moored up on the far side of the river for about 30min and sat in the lovely quiet (an incredible luxury after the continuous noise in PP) with just the splashing of the current and the dolphins as they come up to breathe. Unlike sea dolphins, they do not come out of the water completely, so this photo (like the other 15 or so identical ones) is not just a demonstration of slapdash camera skills on our part - this is as much as you see of them. It was very peaceful and special to be there, but very sad to know that there may not be any way to stop their population decline, especially as it is not exactly clear as to the cause for their stopping breeding. Like all environmentally highly specialised animals they are extremely sensitive to changes, and up-river damming, some pollution from mining and pesticides and maybe some fishing issues are all contributory factors.


After that, Suzy led us on her moto, Perry driving another with me on the back, on a great tour of the area. We visited the 100 pillar wat, with its beautiful paintings of the life of the Buddha (all wats contain this painted theme, but these were very well done)



These are the traditional instruments used in ceremonies, weddings and funerals. Sadly, more often than not in Phnom Penh, these have been replaced by noisily distorted recordings, but not always. I recently went to the funeral of the father of one of our DAC staff, and they used a real band of musicians - so much more soothing!


Suzy & Perry thought it would be very amusing to take a photo of me being a wat granny having a doze on the lovely cool marble floor of the outside pagoda. In my defence, it had been a long hot day, and I had not a wink of sleep the night before, as the stinking cold I started just before Christmas decided to turn into a sore throat of evil proportions. I took the nap after having joined in with some sort of ceremony (hard to tell what but who cares!) to which we were welcomed effusively by a lovely old man who proceeded to bless us extravagantly - maybe we were the 100th visitors that year or something. Anyway, we were made to feel part of the place, and I could have rested there for the rest of the day, however...


There were still sights to see and, as one of them was on the way back, it would have been foolish not to. We were quite tired, and Perry's knees a bit cramped from the bike, and as the name of the wat had the word Phnom in it(hill) and it was on Sambok Mountain, there were a few questions about how one reached it. There were a few steps according to Suzy. How many? Ooh, about..25. Oh really. Never trust a Kiwi.


That was the first flight, being petty I counted them. 67 I recall. There were 2 more flights after that. However, it was a lovely peaceful place, Suzy sometimes spends Sunday afternoons there writing or reading. That's when I really wish it was easier to get out of Phnom Penh. This is the view from the top, with the river in the background - quite low this year already, but still very wide.


Next day it was back on the bus and back to Phnom Penh. This bus had no aircon and my seat backed on to the engine which blew hot air at me all the wayback for 6 hours. It was also the only window with no curtain to shade against the sun. The karaoke t.v didn't work either though, so can't complain.

We went back to work for a week and then had New Year with my colleagues at the beach - more of that next blog. During that break in our gadding about, Perry was awarded a 'gold' medal by the government for his work at the Fisheries Department - very well deserved too. However, the box for the medal arrived about 2 weeks later, and he is still expecting the certificate which will tell him what it was actually for. Very Cambodian. As for how he feels about receiving a medal from His Excellency the Minister for Agriculture, Fisheries and Forestry, I think his look speaks volumes...


By the way, the Minister was standing on a stage. A quite high stage. After all, we do have to look up to him...

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