Home life - Cambodia style

After my first full day in Cambodia, two VSO volunteers not based in Phnom Penh told me that I was doing VSO-light.

Phnom Penh is a city like most in the developed world – restaurants, shops, cars, electricity, modern housing and sanitation etc. But outside of Phnom Penh, life is a bit different and 80% of Cambodians live rurally.

Houses are traditional wooden houses on stilts, underneath which and around, any cow(s), pig(s) and chickens are kept for subsistence. Electricity is uncommon; squat French style toilets are a step up from the forest; and showers are taken using a bucket.

The life Claire and I will witness in Phnom Penh is not life for most Cambodians. So to introduce us to this life, VSO arranged for us to stay with a family in a village for a day and night. 

We ended up staying with the chief of the village so their house was rather nicer, larger and more modern than others in the village. The big challenge was that they spoke no English.

Our home for a day and night

On arrival, I was kept upstairs for serious talk with the man of the house, whilst Claire was taken away to meet his wife and various kids. The game for Claire was to work out what relation all the kids were to the adults and each other.

Sherlock Wilcock discovered that one boy and girl were grandkids looked after by grandparents because their parents were working in Phnom Penh. The parents could not afford for their kids to be in Phnom Penh meaning the kids see them very rarely in the year. It seems that there were other similar situations like this in the village. 

Can you guess which one isn't from Cambodia?

The problem for us came when Grandpa started to ask about our wedding, including how much it cost. Saying we weren’t married wasn’t an option.

So I explained to him that 120 of you lot were there and were very expensive to feed - £50 p/p no less!  Claire’s dress was a whopping £1000 and actually looked quite like the dress the granddaughter was making for her 18^th birthday, which was actually really pretty. 

However, there were two saving graces to keep the conversation flowing. Firstly, I had taken balloons which seemed to go down a hit with the kids. This has been a hit with some of the kids of the staff at our hotel in Kompong Cham so I'm taking them with me wherever I go now.

Lots of debate about how to write our names - they usually think I'm saying Golden or Garden

The second saving grace was that the Gran, who was a school teacher, and granddaughter decided to teach Claire how to write Khmai. Somehow, I was spared this.

However, I was not spared the agony of eating whilst sitting on the floor cross-legged. It was the ultimate torture for me because I was literally torn between sitting there longer to eat more of the wonderful food (I had 12 fish in 24 hours) or saying I was full so that I could stand up. 

In the end I kept eating but couldn't get up until Claire was up and the family were out of sight allowing me to struggle up like a bow-legged 90-year-old needing both hips replaced. Agony. Plus, Gran wouldn't allow either of us to uncross our legs while eating - despite her sitting with only one leg crossed. It was like a test of our willpower to survive in Cambodia (melodramatic?). 

Princess Claire in her mosquito net. We slept upstairs on the wooden floor.

At night we spend a bit of time watching kickboxing with Grandpa. The Khmai guy got beaten by the Thai guy in quite an explosive 5 rounder. I kept on wanting the guy to do 'The Crane' but evidently that's a different martial art...

Then it was up early, 6am, a bucket shower to wash away the cobwebs (or scorpions which we awoke next to outside our net), and a massive breakfast. As well as the fish there was rice, a kind of tamarind sauce and egg and pork mixed up which was also put into a packed lunch for us to take away together with five mangoes and some lamot fruit from their garden (see Claire's post about fruit, aka golden kiwi). Obviously a different breakfast to your average cereal but I guess encountering "strange" things was the point - I would love to read their blog about us!

Strangely yours

Gordon

A happy coincidence and a library that's getting me excited!

Today is the last day of our In Country Training (ICT) and as of Monday, we're on our own! Since we arrived we have been looked after by the Programme Office staff here who have organised our timetable for what we're doing every day. From Monday nothing is organised for us anymore. Gordon goes off to work and I properly start the job hunt (although in the meantime I'm going to be doing some work at the VSO Office, helping with a new communications strategy which I'm really looking forward to).

This morning, the volunteers had meetings with the their Head of Sector (all volunteers work either under Education, Health or Livelihoods) and I had some free time on my hands. I've spoken to some agents who are helping us look for a house (we've seen lots but none that are right. Possibly we (ie me) are just being fussy, but I have hope we can find somewhere we love). I had great plans to write lots of emails and catch up on lots of things but the lure of Google proved too much and I found myself reading the blog of a certain Danny Murphy...

For anyone who went to Crieff High with me the name will be familiar - our 'headie' for a few years the name had come up in conversation a few times when we arrived here (mostly because he had a lovely apartment!) but it was only one night after a comment about a past Scottish VSOer who worked in education that it finally clicked who it was. This morning I've spent a lovely hour or so browsing through his blog and reading about his first few weeks here in Cambodia. For those that are interested I can highly recommend it:  http://dannymurphyvso.wordpress.com/

I've also spent quite some time looking at the books in the Programme Office library. I've not read a thing since I came here which is really strange for me - I normally get through a book or two per week and had expected to have finished all the books that we brought with us both in traditional form and on our fab Kindle.There is nothing I like more than lbrowsing books and the fact that these have all been left here by previous volunteers just adds a certain something to them. I've recommended a few to some of the other volunteers who are heading off into the sticks and are stocking up on reading material (another thing I love doing although more fraught with panic as I have no idea what they like!).

I'm really quite excited about reading some of the books as there are many that I've been meaning to read for years, or feel that I "should" read. I think I'm going to start with Iain Crichton Smith's Consider the Lilies. I've not read anything by Crichton Smith and it will be a nice reminder from home. There's also a novel by Robin Jenkins that I have my eye on - I read The Cone Gatherers in SYS English and loved it and am looking forward to reading more by him. Straying away from Scotland Jack Kerouac's On the Road has been earmarked for a perusal at a later date and there are loads of other interesting books that I can't wait to get started on. 

Anyway. Enough ramblings. Gordon should be finished in a few minutes and we're off out for a 'working lunch' as we evaluate our ICT and language training.

Surviving the Killing Fields

If you only ever read one blog post of ours, then read this one. It is one man’s story that represents a country’s history, and explains its present ails.

Dara is our language teacher. He was born in 1960 and his father was an officer in the Cambodian army when General Lon Nol was in power from 1970-1975. In 1975, the Khmer Rouge overthrew Lon Nol after a long civil war that claimed 500,000 lives.

Dara - our teacher and survivor of Khmer Rouge

Dara’s father, like most of the nation, welcomed the Khmer Rouge believing they would bring peace. As such, Dara’s parents called their newly born baby “Peace” but there would be no peace for decades.

For four years, the Khmer Rouge divided families, drove people from their homes and worked them to death in labour camps. People survived on a few grains of rice and whatever grass, tree bark and fruit they could find without guards seeing them. One of Dara’s brothers did not survive the starvation and his father who was separated was never seen again.

Dara was moved from his work camp to a prison where he was blindfolded and marched out into fields. He felt the grass beneath his feet and knew that he was entering ‘the killing fields’.  However, his walk continued so that instead of feeling a rifle pressed against his head, he felt stones under his feet and he was back in prison.

He was alive but knew he would be dead soon unless he escaped. So he jumped a barbed wire fence, dodged bullets and didn’t stop running until he found his way back to his mother.

There he was forced to work in camps and did so until Vietnam began their invasion to defeat the Khmer Rouge. Dara fought the Khmer Rouge for three months seeing three of his friends blown up by a mine just a few yards in front of him.

In less than the four years of Khmer Rouge rule, before they were overthrown in 1979, approximately 2million had died – more than a quarter of the entire population.

And still there was no peace as civil war continued throughout the 1980s between rival factions.

First, Dara lived in a camp near the Thai border where he walked 60km each way to take 15kg of food back to his mother and brothers. This was until the civil war forced Dara and his family to become refugees living in a refugee camp of 350,000 people just over the Thai border.

Even there Dara was not safe. There were three refugee camps and each one was controlled by one of the factions fighting in Cambodia. Under a pseudonym, he started a petition calling for neutral control of the refugee camps but, in 1990, his real name and photo were published by Western journalists covering the story.

Dara had to flee for his life. And the only place he could run to was back to Phnom Penh and the heart of the civil war. Family and friends would not hide him as refugees from the border were thought of as enemies by authorities. He turned himself in and after days of imprisonment and questioning he was let go.

For twenty years Dara’s life had been the war and death that engulfed Cambodia. He began working as a teacher in the 1990s and Cambodia began to find peace. But this was not quite peace as we know it – there were still tanks being blown up in cities, rockets and guns being fired, and too many people dying.

Looking at Dara and Cambodia today, you may never know their history. The pain and loss are not immediately apparent meaning their effects can be un-noticed.

Dara with us at a thank you lunch - happier times

But I am learning it affects everything. I once scolded myself for asking a man of my age what his parents did - it was highly likely they had died under the Khmer Rouge. But more importantly, it affects the rules of this society, how people behave and how they work. Death literally touched every family in this country and that will take a long time to heal.

Gordon

Birthday fun Cambodia style!

Yesterday I reached the grand old age of 32. Or 33 if you count Khmer style: they count your birth day as year one so on our first UK birthday we'd actually turn two here. Needless to say, I decided not to count that way!

This was the lovely sight that greeted me when I got to class yesterday.

The day continued to be full of surprises. After class there was a surprise lunch with some of the other volunteers - with more balloons decorating the restaurant - and a card and present from the gang here. My card was actually a jigsaw with the messages written on the back - and it was another item from the Disney princesses range (for other times, see here). Wonderful. My present was these rather fetching PJs (stripy top worn underneath - optional).

Pyjamas are the daywear of choice for many discerning Khmer ladies - they can be seen on all ages when doing all manner of daily activities. Sadly, I've not managed to capture anywhere near the extensive range of choices in the pics below, but I'm sure you get the idea. I will try to get at least one shot of the bright orange 'Angry Birds' ensembles that we regularly see for the future.

It's definitely a quirk that none of us have quite gotten to grips with yet, however I'm beginning to see the advantage. Light and cool yet covered up from the sun and always matching. What's not to like!

The rest of the afternoon was spent eating the, frankly magnificent, chocolate cake that Gordon had had made for a birthday treat. It was delicious and disappeared faster than you can say "What's happy birthday in Khmer again...?"

a dreadful picture of me with the cake

mm-mmmm

We snuck in a round of Scrabble before heading back to the hotel to study. Sadly, the concentration just wasn't there today so I chatted, read lovely birthday emails and texts and blew up balloons with Tida, the wee girl of the night receptionist at our hotel and the lady who runs our beer stall of choice at the river.

preparing for the "magic" trick of sticking a balloon to the wall

The day was rounded off with beer and peanuts on our balcony watching the sunset before a lovely dinner at Smile and a quick Skype chat with my folks.

Fun times :)

Frikkin' Ferrari Fast

Kids at school seem to think they know it all and then they leave to enter the big bad world and it hits them. They're not as good as they think there are. This feeling mowed me down like a truck the other day.

In the class or practicing with other volunteers, we're yapping away in Khmai (for new readers, Khmer is actually Khmai) showing off how we can say we are going to the bank after reading this book; or will be working in Phnom Penh for two years; or where our favourite restaurant is because the food is spicy. Oh I was revelling in the smugness.

Then the truck, which was a meeting with the organisations we will be working with, ran into town and sped over me leaving me squished in a dazed, confused heap.

Imagine being at a F1 racetrack. You sit readying yourself for Schumacher’s Ferrari or Hamilton’s McLaren to come round the corner, down the straight and speed off into the distance. Then when it happens, a blur appears amidst a roar of noise and before you recognize who it is, you’re left peering at a dot in the distance struggling to make sense of what you had just seen.

Well, that’s how I felt when the first person got up to speak in Khmai.

Our first meeting in Khmai - with our new organisations

All of those classes and practice were for nothing as my eyes squinted and then widened to be the size of Shadow’s from Gladiators. I could not believe what I was hearing because it certainly wasn’t anything like the Khmai I had heard in class.

And this seems to be the problem. Whereas we speak Khmai slower than a slo mo replay of Stephen Hawkings (sorry), they unsurprisingly speak like a speeding Ferrari.

I sometimes caught the odd word, which momentarily raised hopes and excitement. However, this word was often “neak-smak-chet” which means a volunteer. So initial delight became a little jaded when all it meant was that you knew they were talking about you but had no idea what exactly.

The comedy moment came when I was neak-smak-chetted to participate in a role play as the hapless volunteer who could not understand anything that was being said in their office, therefore missing meetings and not following important discussions. Following The Method style of acting, I pulled off pretending to have no clue about what was going on with ease. 

Gordon "pretending" to not understand Khmai in a role play

Feeling utterly incompetent is obviously bad enough. But it also means that you need everything translated causing meetings to last twice as long. This causes the pain to be not only deep but Duracell battery lasting in length. And I already feel my last breath ebbing away in meetings that don't need constant translation.

Khmai script - there is no way we'll be learning to read this

However, fear not for us hapless neak-smak-chets because my sister gave me a Cambodian for Beginners CD at Christmas with real Khmai people speaking on it. This is on course to replace The Corrs at the top of my CD listening list.

Gordon

PS, on a bright note, we have learned “mean tong” which means “have bag” thus reducing the number of plastic bags we get with every item purchased. They love giving you plastic bags here. 

Kampong Cham - a tale of two bridges

For 16 days, we've been in Kampong Cham (or Kompong Cham depending on a translator's whim), so I thought that I should introduce you to it by virtue of this little blog.

Whereas Phnom Penh is hustle and bustle, Kampong Cham is peaceful and pleasant. It has remnants of its French colonial past with wide boulevards and ornate balconies. The pace is definitely slower here although it is the third largest city with population of 65,000. 

Its big selling point is its location on the Mekong River. Kampong means riverside and here the river is wide and blue with much of the town, including our Mekong Hotel, based near it. The sun rises from the other side of the river making for gorgeous sunrises. This is definitely my favourite time of the day - peaceful, beautiful, calm and cool. Or not boiling anyway.

Kampong Cham is also famous for two bridges that contrast tradition and modernity. The first bridge pictured is the Kizuna bridge (2001) named after the Japanese ambassador who got Japan to build what was the biggest bridge in Cambodia and the first to span the Mekong. I go running across this bridge in the mornings. Well twice.

The second bridge is a little different. It's made of bamboo. But is actually newer than the Kizuna bridge because it is built anew every year after being swept away in the wet season. The Bamboo Bridge (Spean Russey) takes a month to build and everything can go over this bridge and at the same time; motorbikes, cars, 4x4s - the lot.

However, it is an absolute nightmare to cycle across. Those who read this earlier blog may remember me complaining about cycling over cobbles. This wasn't as bad but then there weren't cars coming towards you on that cobbly bridge. Plus, we had to pay twice the price that locals have to because we're "barang", which actually means French, but is used to describe any white, long nosed foreigner.

Kampong Cham also has a few a Buddhist temples, which we are yet to visit, and a few markets. Visiting the market is usually an interesting experience, which I think may be worth a whole blog in itself. So you'll just have to wait.

But since Claire left you with a Cambodian saying last time, I will do so too.

"Songsaa ch'ran, pan-ya-haa ch'ran; pon tai pan-ya-haa la-or" which means "many girlfriends, many problems; but good problems". I think our teacher may have been a player....

Gordon

Back to school

Unbelievably, we’ve just finished week two of our language class. How time flies when you’re having fun!

We came to Kampong Cham nearly two weeks ago to start our language training. There’ll be more about our current home in a later blog I’m sure but I thought I’d discuss the important things in my life in this installment. For Gordon it’s the price of beer – for me it’s stationery and sugary treats.

Two weeks ago, nine nervous volunteers turned up for day one of our language class at Western University clutching a pen, enthusiasm and not much in the way of Khmer language knowledge. At this point I'd only just figured out that Khmer is not pronounced K'mer, it's actually K'mai. Anyway, we were all given a new notebook (pink for me, blue for Gordon) and a pen. Free stationery - so far, it was going well! And then the onslaught started.

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly an onslaught - I’m not sure an onslaught can ever be an enjoyable experience and this was brilliant - but yowser did we learn a lot in day one. None of your ‘my name is…’, ‘I’m 31 and from Scotland’ for us! Oh no. We learned how to say I, we, you, him, her, they. We learnt verbs, conjunctions, negative statements, lots of food related nouns… I genuinely didn’t think I had it in me but after day one, “Knyom chole-chet rien pea-saa Khmer ch’raan!” (approx. I really like learning Khmer language.)

When we left our first class I was delighted to discover many of the other volunteers shared my love of making study notes looks pretty, so we set off along the road to find different coloured pens and coloured card for flashcards. After stopping at a couple of roadside shops, where we managed to get some fancy double-ended highlighters, we hit paydirt at the market when we discovered the stationery stall.

Heaven really is sparkly pens with Disney princesses on them. Who knew that all the different pens and nice paper that I left at home would have been just as well coming with me…

Our language teacher, Dara, is a legend. 

Dara at his whiteboard

He has somehow managed to give us the capability to hold a (basic) conversation in Khmer and two weeks later I’ve also learnt rather a lot about the English language that I didn’t know before! I now know about subjects and objects, prepositions and pronouns – things I’m sure I was told at school but have forgotten the names of.

Of course, we need food to sustain all the learning we’re doing and there’s a lot to choose from. Again, I’m sure there will many posts about food in the months to come (especially given Gordon’s capacity for consuming it) but the best things about a new country for me are discovering what sweet treats they have in store. 

Today we had this little dragon shaped wonder from our local bakery, and the other day we had the wodge of sticky delight pictured underneath. 

Neither are particularly sugary (says the girl with the sweet tooth). The dragon had some sort of bean paste inside it, dyed to look yellow so that it looks like an egg inside (we think… when we asked what it was we think they said ‘pong taya’ ie duck egg so we had presumed it would be savoury) and the rectangle of cake is topped with sesame seeds, some little green things (seaweed?) and candied ginger (I can’t think what us Scots would call it, but one of our new Canadian pals said it and that’s exactly what it is!)

Ellen, our Dutch volunteer, came across the waffle lady one afternoon. For days we thought she had been hallucinating as none of us had seen her, however yesterday, there she was!

a waffle plus another lovely coconut cake ma-jig

waffle lady! (plus Ellen who sneaked into the pic)

Of course, we haven't only eaten sugary sweet treats. The fresh fruit is also delicious and Anna, who has been in Cambodia since the summer and has just started with VSO, has been introducing us to a whole new world (NB deliberate Disney link) of tropical fruit.

Here she is chopping up a Pomelo - a cross between a giant orange and a grapefruit and delicious

jack fruit

And here's the jack fruit being prepared - very sweet and sticky 

they look like a small potato, but they're more like golden kiwi fruits

sweet tamarind - gooey and yummy!

And finally, Gordon would never forgive me if I didn't mention one of his new favourite foodstuffs - banana in sticky, coconut rice, cooked over coals in a banana leaf. We get ours from a lovely wee lady on the street corner behind our hotel who laughs whenever we try to talk in Khmer.

not a particularly good pic as all you can see is charred banana leaf - but the white bit in the middle is the rice with the banana inside!

And, for no reason other than I like it, I leave you with my favourite Khmer saying that I've heard so far

Mean teuk (have water)

Mean try (have fish)

Mean loy (have money)

Mean s'rey! (have women!)

lea hai!