gooood morning Viet Naaaammmm

As it looks like the division of blog-writing labour has been split to Gordon commenting on the social and political aspects of our time here in Cambodia while I tell you about "stuff wot we've done", it would appear that it's my turn again. And this time it's our trip to Vietnam.

We went to visit Gordon's friend Annalise and her wife Nadine. Gordon used to work with Annalise in London and it was her decision, approximately three or so years ago, to volunteer that inspired Gordon to make the same decision. Many will now know the story that, until Gordon mentioned to me that he'd like to do something similar, he swears he had no idea that I had been saying (to anyone that asked. For years!) that about the only thing career wise that I was sure I wanted to do was volunteer with VSO.

My mum did VSO in the 70s in Papua New Guinea. While it wasn’t something she spoke about a lot, it definitely sparked something in me. Mostly itchy feet and a desire to see the world, but also wanting to not just travel, but to live and work somewhere and “make a difference”. So, after five years with Gordon seemingly having no clue about this (I still swear he must have known) I was very excited to meet Annalise to thank her in person for his inspiration!

We hopped on the bus in Phnom Penh at some early hour in the morning and, slightly surprisingly, actually departed almost on time. We were in our favourite seats on the coach, numbers 15 and 16, and looking forward to the six hour journey. And then the air con kicked in.

While I appreciate the cooling of the bus (we once had to do three hours on a bus here with broken air con. The driver sat with the door open as we sped our way down the road with me convinced something, or someone, was going to fall out at any point. It didn’t make a lot of difference and we arrived hot, sweaty and rather bedraggled anyway) this was chilling to the point of ridiculousness. After putting on another t-shirt, and then borrowing yet another of Gordon’s, and then wrapping my pashmina/scarf round my head to try and stop the freezing air blasting it, I finally made some feeble “I’m cold” gesture to our lovely conductor. He promptly swept the curtain from the window and tucked it up into the overhead compartment, effectively blocking the cold air from the ducts. Genius!

An added bonus to the journey that we weren’t aware of came just outside Phnom Penh when we stopped at the river. It took a few moments after getting off the bus to realise that we weren't standing on land, but had actually driven straight on to the ferry. It's a flat, drive on, drive off affair where there are no barriers to stop you falling off the front or the back. We did our best Kate and Leo impression and stood at the very front of the ferry as we made the short hop across, wind blowing in our hair.

our bus, on the boat

Fried crickets for sale on the boat. No, we didn't partake.

The ferry at the other side waiting to cross

We got off the bus and, rather miraculously, managed to find Annalise in a cafe without getting lost (our Cambodian mobiles didn't work in Vietnam).  A spot of lunch followed by a walk through Saigon, stopping to buy some impressive tarpaulin like ponchos when the rain started, and a short trip on the expat bus out to Annalise and Nadine's place was afternoon one.

Just like Cambodia - but with hats! And these hats were everywhere.

That night we went out for bia hoi. Translated as "fresh beer" it's brewed daily and is super cheap. At 10,000 dong a litre, and with 22,000 dong to the dollar, it was certainly not breaking the bank! We had a great time there as an old soldier came over and chatted to us and then tried to set up Annalise with his, rather embarrassed, son.

Next day we went on a tour of Saigon, wandering through the market, looking at the Reunification Palace before swinging by Notre Dame to the Post Office.

food stalls at Ben Thanh market

another stall

Coconut seller, with one of the great hats. Interesting fact, coconuts in Phnom Penh are sold from
wheelbarrow  type carts and are not cut into the same shape as they are in Saigon. Ladies carrying two
baskets like these in PP are usually selling noodle soup.

Reunification Palace

street scene

Notre Dame

Gordon, Annalise and the Post Office

personal grooming outside the Post Office

How much would you love to phone home in one of these? Inside the Post Office

Cannae beat a map!

The rather beautiful Post Office

We went to the Ho Chi Minh museum in the afternoon. It was basically a LOT of photographs, mostly with captions in Vietnamese, so we didn't learn a huge amount. But it was raining, and it was indoors, so it was a winner!

the Saigon River, from the museum

Crowds outside the Reunification Palace in 1975

Ho Chi Minh museum 

Next day was Monday and Nadine and Annalise had to work, so we set off ourselves (managing to get the local bus, for a grand total of about 35 pence each) into town to meet our tour bus to take us to the Cu Chi tunnels.

On the way we stopped off at a lacquer factory - captive tourists and all that! It was actually great to see them making all the lacquer pictures and to see the processes it goes through. And to learn that they use lots of crushed eggshell.

Our guide to the tunnels was a young guy (red t-shirt a few pics below) and he was great at explaining and showing everything. It was a really interesting trip. (I'm sure I would have found it even more interesting had I managed to stayed awake for his chat about the war on the minibus to the tunnels...)

Another guide shows where all the tunnels were round Saigon.

Gordon slithering down one of the hatches. Claustrophobia ahoy!

A hidden trap. The ground would go from under you and you'd land on the spikes underneath. 

Gordon with half a tank

Our guide helping sell the bullets for going to fire the guns . We decided not to pay to shoot any
 but I did jump when I heard them go off. Guns are really loud!

Part of the tour let us climb down into the tunnels and "walk" along a 100m stretch. Even although it was lit for us it was still pretty dark, and very hot. And really hard work. We both came out with thighs that felt like we'd climbed a mountain.

It's hard to believe people lived in the tunnels. There's too much to explain about what we learned here but it's a must do if you visit Saigon.

In the tunnels - that have been heightened and widened for foreigners...

A model of the tunnels - they worked on three layers. A real feat of engineering.

We got dropped off at the War Remnants Museum after the tunnels. It was a pretty grim reminder of the  horrors of war. And another time that I was glad not to be an American. They're really not a fan of Americans in Vietnam, and they're not shy about showing it. Outside the museum is lots of old planes, tanks and helicopters and inside are hundreds and hundreds of photographs of the war and its aftermath, in particular showing the affects of Agent Orange.

All too soon it was our last day and Annalise and Nadine packed us back off to Phnom Penh complete with a suitcase full of swag from their house (they leave Saigon in August after two years there) - pillows, wine glasses, knives, a vase - you name it, we swiped it. Thanks guys!

We had a few hours in the city before our bus was due so we wandered round taking it all in a little more.

I think every park should have a sign banning teasing animals.

See the tall building on the right with the bit sticking out of it? That bit is a helipad and it's on a hotel. It's never used, as only the military are allowed to fly helicopters. Most pointless 'bit' ever built?

Ben Thanh market

fruit seller

And possibly my favourite photo from our trip - a fish boat beside a penguin bin.

Shock: Scot admits the power of English

Just after we arrived in Phnom Penh, we were walking through The White Building - concrete blocks of claustrophobic flats crammed together with unlit walkways and ground levels furrows. The White Building is notorious rather than desirable.

Front doors to the flats were often lying open so you could easily see the main living area. Staring out from one flat, placed over the dinner table, was a blackboard. Written at the top was the "Past Perfect Tense" with various English phrases underneath. Scrawled in chalk on the outside of the house's concrete wall were a list of English words and grammatical rules.

A Cambodian home in The While Building complete with a white board full of grammatical rules. I kind of love this picture. Plus, we've got a white board now too!

I could not help but stare. I never saw any of the family but I began to think about what drove the parents to obviously put so much effort into helping their children learning English. What did they think learning English would do for their children? What life would learning English provide? The answers become clear pretty quickly.

Nothing to do with this blog - but you can guess what the next one may be about

The EU recently asked Cambodian charities to apply to a specific fund for Cambodia. All NGOs had to do was read the guidelines and submit an application. Except the guidelines were in rather technical English with no Khmer translation. And the applications all had to be done in English as well.

Just as most donors act similarly to the EU, most research in Cambodia is published in English too, even when done by Cambodians for Cambodian NGOs, meaning only a few Cambodians could even conceivably read it. This is a country where if you are aged over 30, your school years were spent surviving the Khmer Rouge and civil war so education levels are understandably low.

In meetings, native or very fluent English speakers (Dutch, French etc) rapidly go back and forth, whilst many Cambodians are still, in their heads, translating what they want to say from Khmer to English. Soon, the conversation moves on and they miss their chance.

Just another photographic interlude to lighten my oh so serious topic. We used one of these ferries to go to Vietnam. Could stand right at the edge with no barrier.

All of this means that if you don't speak English, then you're not in the game. You don't even get to warm up.
Cambodia is losing people who may have the skills and intelligence to be brilliant in certain jobs/professions but never get the chance to because they don't speak English. If speaking a second language was a prerequisite for your job, would you have got it? Plus, those professionals who do speak English devote all of their time improving their English rather than learning other skills.

If you speak English, you're in demand. It's hitting home how being born in a wee city in Scotland has already given me a step up on the rest of the world.

Ciao / Au revoir / Lea hai
Gordon

Landing in trouble

In late 2003, the Government organised a competition to select the best development plan for Boeng Kak Lake in the Borei Keila area of Phnom Penh. The winning idea, which was ignored, envisioned public parks, a museum, shops and new houses. Instead, a 99 year lease was given to a company owned by a Senator of the ruling party who had a vision of high-rise luxury apartments and lots of cash.

They started filling in the lake with tonnes of sand and evicted thousands of families from the area. Ever since arriving, we have read about the continuous protests of families against their eviction and lack of alternative housing. Many are left with nothing because they do not have land titles, which is hardly surprising given 30 years of civil war and violence. Plus, most tarpaulin shacks don't come with land titles.

During one protest in May, thirteen women were arrested and two days later were tried and sentenced for trying to occupy state land illegally. Larger protests ensued and appeals were launched.

In a bit of a surprise, the appeal court, whilst upholding the conviction of the thirteen women, reduced their sentence from two and a half years to time served. But even good news in this story is superseded by bad - a pregnant woman miscarried after being hit by police during a protest.

You can see how the whole story unfolded here, which also shows a pic of what the lake looks like now - swamped with sand and without much development happening.

Land is the biggest issue in Cambodia. Rights and laws do not matter as much as money, power and force. The poor literally are the dispossessed as they get moved from their homes, farms and forests at gunpoint. A mixture of local, provincial and national government is giving away 99 year leases on millions of hectares, and it's not the affected communities or public purse that are seeing the cash from these sales.

Yesterday saw a campaign launched because of land taken by a sugar company owned by a ruling party Senator (see a pattern emerging?). The sugar ends up in Tate and Lyle bags being sold in Europe. Some things are not so sweet here.

Gordon