My first attempt at simple video production -- showing a life skills class in cooking at Charthmei Primary School:
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Ay, there's the rub(ber)
I want my children to know where things come from, how they're made, of what, by whom.
Revision: I myself want to know these things, and would eventually want my children to know too.
The other morning, I went on a whim with a couple of coworkers to visit a rubber plantation and factory in a district nearby. It reminded me of the (too few) times I have seen a cashew factory, a silversmith, large-scale brewery and how it felt to see how things are actually made.
A boy working on the rubber plantation.
He dropped out of school last year after 8th grade.
The rubber floats down long white tile tunnels and is
processed through this squisher thing
Then it's cut up and spit out into these rolling bins
and washed yet again.
Various treatments, and the rubber comes out in basic blocks.
This guy puts the blocks into a compressor... then they're squished and packed.
I have a simple memory of a diagram in a magazine. I think it was made for children because I imagine clear language and bright colors. The diagram showed a picture of a house cut down the middle, with its insides exposed. Each room had its typical goods -- toasters and bananas and spoons in the kitchen, table and chairs and sofas and lamps, clothes in the bedroom, cars in the garage, garden furniture on the side patio. And then the diagram linked each item with its birthplace somewhere in the world. Growing up in the United States, in Orange County (a capital of consumerism?), I knew logically that things had to come from somewhere, but I never really wasted any time considering where, how, by whom.
Now it absolutely fascinates me to see these processes at work and wonder in awe at how much we have created and then wonder in partial dismay at how much that we've created is necessary and good.
I'm certainly no ascetic and I have a hard time going for broke with "green" "sustainable" "fair trade." It's partly a suspicion of catch phrases and key words, but I also have a hard time living my life to save the planet (maybe it'll change when I have children?). It's a goal too far removed from my everyday experience to mean much to me.
However, it appeals to my sense of beauty and authenticity, and some simple human empathy to try to buy quality things made in clean and well-lit places where people are treated like humans.
Revision: I myself want to know these things, and would eventually want my children to know too.
The other morning, I went on a whim with a couple of coworkers to visit a rubber plantation and factory in a district nearby. It reminded me of the (too few) times I have seen a cashew factory, a silversmith, large-scale brewery and how it felt to see how things are actually made.
A boy working on the rubber plantation.He dropped out of school last year after 8th grade.
The rubber floats down long white tile tunnels and isprocessed through this squisher thing
Then it's cut up and spit out into these rolling binsand washed yet again.
Various treatments, and the rubber comes out in basic blocks.This guy puts the blocks into a compressor... then they're squished and packed.
Now it absolutely fascinates me to see these processes at work and wonder in awe at how much we have created and then wonder in partial dismay at how much that we've created is necessary and good.
I'm certainly no ascetic and I have a hard time going for broke with "green" "sustainable" "fair trade." It's partly a suspicion of catch phrases and key words, but I also have a hard time living my life to save the planet (maybe it'll change when I have children?). It's a goal too far removed from my everyday experience to mean much to me.
However, it appeals to my sense of beauty and authenticity, and some simple human empathy to try to buy quality things made in clean and well-lit places where people are treated like humans.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Early in the morning
Early in the morning, at first light, before the cans and bottles man comes rolling down the street, squeaking his dishsoap bottle horn and before the background sounds of moving and building and living commence, I like to get up and steal a few minutes from the waking day.
On my balcony, overlooking colonial rooftops and banana trees, this time of day is nothing but calm; nothing but promise and potential. The early morning breeze blows everything fresh and clear and new and magically, mercifully, my mind is quiet. My cup of tea is warm in my hand and my heart is full with contentment.
If my whole life could be mornings.
Still, it's reassuring to look on as the day is born. As people get out onto the streets to sweep and exercise; as motorcycles begin to whir by; as pots and pans and voices begin to filter in through the windows.
Exuberant, belligerent, demanding, the day begins.
On my balcony, overlooking colonial rooftops and banana trees, this time of day is nothing but calm; nothing but promise and potential. The early morning breeze blows everything fresh and clear and new and magically, mercifully, my mind is quiet. My cup of tea is warm in my hand and my heart is full with contentment.
If my whole life could be mornings.
Still, it's reassuring to look on as the day is born. As people get out onto the streets to sweep and exercise; as motorcycles begin to whir by; as pots and pans and voices begin to filter in through the windows.
Exuberant, belligerent, demanding, the day begins.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Dance like no one's watching.
I just had to give a shout out to my new favorite nighttime activity (and exercise regimen):
crazy dancing.
I have been known to bust-a-move out in the real world. But despite my actually-talented-dancing-since-she-was-3 sister's tendency to half laugh, half gag, I've always had a special place in my heart for wild dance parties at home with friends or... all on my own.
Becky, this is for you.
Becky, this is for you.
Numbers and narrative
Here's a little snippet from a Cambodian newspaper about a local agricultural development project going on in my province:
"Mr. Lang Seng Houn showed figures that among 192 villages from five provinces, 14,300 families benefited from the project. the number of farmers who cooperated is 7,300, the living standard of 500 families changed greatly; 5,900 families experienced an average change, and 800 families got poorer. The number of women who have changed their attitudes and abandoned their old habits is 3,500, and the number of youth under the same category is 900. And 1,500 of the poorest families who sold their labor to have some income have changed their living standard and have become independent farmers; the livelihood of farmers in general is better. Generally, they can earn 80% more from the increase of the agricultural production and from the reduction of other expenses. They have stepped up the basis for this to retain the continuity of their production teams, and 718 teams have saved money - they have 6,000 families as members so that they are able to link their products to markets. Each family earns from Riel 1.4 million to Riel 2.6 million [approx. US$340 to US$635 per farming season] from their agricultural products; those are 427 families in Kompong Chhnang, Svay Rieng, and Kompong Cham. Their income is from paddy rice, from the breeding of chickens and pigs, and from the planting of vegetables and other crops."
I'm not against counting, measuring, or quantifying, but there's something about just numbers in the context of development (or in any social science, really) that's always made me suspicious, that inevitable makes me hunger after details, images, narrative. Two things bother me -- first, how easily numbers can be manipulated and subsequently distort the truth, and then, the way that numbers seem so inadequate to describe some experiences. I guess at its essence, translating the human experience into 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9, must reduce things at some level.
When I read this paragraph, I want to believe these families are happier, more stable and secure. An increase in family income of almost $300 seems unconditionally good. But still, it doesn't seem real unless I can also believe in the picture of fat pigs rolling around in the new pig sties; of the family of 8 who used to run out of rice by June and now has excess to sell; and the younger children who now go to school because their parents can survive without the money for their labor.
"Mr. Lang Seng Houn showed figures that among 192 villages from five provinces, 14,300 families benefited from the project. the number of farmers who cooperated is 7,300, the living standard of 500 families changed greatly; 5,900 families experienced an average change, and 800 families got poorer. The number of women who have changed their attitudes and abandoned their old habits is 3,500, and the number of youth under the same category is 900. And 1,500 of the poorest families who sold their labor to have some income have changed their living standard and have become independent farmers; the livelihood of farmers in general is better. Generally, they can earn 80% more from the increase of the agricultural production and from the reduction of other expenses. They have stepped up the basis for this to retain the continuity of their production teams, and 718 teams have saved money - they have 6,000 families as members so that they are able to link their products to markets. Each family earns from Riel 1.4 million to Riel 2.6 million [approx. US$340 to US$635 per farming season] from their agricultural products; those are 427 families in Kompong Chhnang, Svay Rieng, and Kompong Cham. Their income is from paddy rice, from the breeding of chickens and pigs, and from the planting of vegetables and other crops."
I'm not against counting, measuring, or quantifying, but there's something about just numbers in the context of development (or in any social science, really) that's always made me suspicious, that inevitable makes me hunger after details, images, narrative. Two things bother me -- first, how easily numbers can be manipulated and subsequently distort the truth, and then, the way that numbers seem so inadequate to describe some experiences. I guess at its essence, translating the human experience into 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9, must reduce things at some level.
When I read this paragraph, I want to believe these families are happier, more stable and secure. An increase in family income of almost $300 seems unconditionally good. But still, it doesn't seem real unless I can also believe in the picture of fat pigs rolling around in the new pig sties; of the family of 8 who used to run out of rice by June and now has excess to sell; and the younger children who now go to school because their parents can survive without the money for their labor.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Checking in
It's been over two months since the last mass email -- I've been sparing everyone and keeping updates here (check it out for updates on Raja, the work situation, and more) but I had a couple of sincere-seeming requests for an email, so here are some highlights from the past 8 weeks.
At the end of May, Mayumi and Judy came out to visit for a few days. We met in Phnom Penh on a Saturday morning and had a whirlwind two days in the city, hailing tuk-tuks, grocery shopping, eating crickets, getting pampered, seeing the overpriced National Museum, dancing up a storm, and rescuing an abandoned cat.
On Monday, Judy had to head back to the office (Google Singapore), so Mayumi and I headed to Kampong Cham, where I took her on the whirlwind moto-tour of the city; then the next day, we headed off to Siem Reap where we spent two-and-a-half days exploring the temples. Overall, 'twas a glorious visit, and it was hard to say goodbye to Mayumi and head back to the fortress of solitude in Kampong Cham.
Do I miss Google? Well when the Cambodian microorganisms have gotten the better of my digestive system, and I've had nothing but Maria biscuits and soda water for a day or two, my mind wanders fondly to the hot chocolate they serve in Pinxto or the Andale burrito bar. However, while I've found I can mostly do without the dry cleaning and the espresso machines and the massage chairs, what I miss terribly is all my brilliant friends.
Work can be tedious and not always what I expected, but going out to visit schools and communities is inspiring, depressing, entertaining, and always educational.
Out in the field, I get to watch the tiny first-graders lugging their own plastic chairs to-and-from school; I get to visit classrooms with students, but no teaches; I get to see the village chief assemble families for a workshops on gender and education. Once, I met a group of girls who started a small tailor business with training and a microloan. I laughed along at a Girls' Club's ruefully funny skit about a drunk father who won't let his children go to school. I rode through cassava fields on the school director's moto to visit a family of 12 with two scholarship students and two HIV-positive parents.
Out in the field, I can feel nothing but humbled by the work my colleagues are doing. It almost makes me feel like I could continue as the organizations flack jacket without complaint...
As for daily life, my Khmer is improving rapidly, so I'm able to have pretty decent conversations as long as people speak "muoy-muoy" or "one-by-one." I decided to start up with reading and writing, and so far, I've managed the 33 consonants: Gaw Khaw Ghuh Khuh Nguh. Jaw Chaw Juh Chugh Nyuh. Daw Taw Duh Tuh Naw. Thaw Taw Thuh Tuh Nuh. Baw Paw Buh Puh Muh. Yuh Ruh Luh Vuh. Saw Haw Law Aw. Radical.
Since I decided running (or even walking) was out of the question, I've taken to switching between my moto and a bicycle around town, and have instituted an evening regimen of crazy solo dancing to loud music. Next time I go to Phnom Penh, I'm buying a $1 pilates DVD. Elongated musculature here I come!
As if to counteract the good intentions of my new exercise regimen, Rumdourl has decided that my knowledge of Cambodian cuisine is too limited, so she's decided to take me on a "noodle tour" -- one new shop in Kampong Cham every week. I consider this supplementary to my Khmer cooking education -- I've been learning 2-3 new dishes per month, courtesy of friends and their mothers. Next up: Fish Amok.
Nothing like a visit to buoy the spirits and kill you with longing for home.
At the end of May, Mayumi and Judy came out to visit for a few days. We met in Phnom Penh on a Saturday morning and had a whirlwind two days in the city, hailing tuk-tuks, grocery shopping, eating crickets, getting pampered, seeing the overpriced National Museum, dancing up a storm, and rescuing an abandoned cat.
On Monday, Judy had to head back to the office (Google Singapore), so Mayumi and I headed to Kampong Cham, where I took her on the whirlwind moto-tour of the city; then the next day, we headed off to Siem Reap where we spent two-and-a-half days exploring the temples. Overall, 'twas a glorious visit, and it was hard to say goodbye to Mayumi and head back to the fortress of solitude in Kampong Cham.Do I miss Google? Well when the Cambodian microorganisms have gotten the better of my digestive system, and I've had nothing but Maria biscuits and soda water for a day or two, my mind wanders fondly to the hot chocolate they serve in Pinxto or the Andale burrito bar. However, while I've found I can mostly do without the dry cleaning and the espresso machines and the massage chairs, what I miss terribly is all my brilliant friends.
Living for the action in the field.
Work can be tedious and not always what I expected, but going out to visit schools and communities is inspiring, depressing, entertaining, and always educational.Out in the field, I get to watch the tiny first-graders lugging their own plastic chairs to-and-from school; I get to visit classrooms with students, but no teaches; I get to see the village chief assemble families for a workshops on gender and education. Once, I met a group of girls who started a small tailor business with training and a microloan. I laughed along at a Girls' Club's ruefully funny skit about a drunk father who won't let his children go to school. I rode through cassava fields on the school director's moto to visit a family of 12 with two scholarship students and two HIV-positive parents.
Out in the field, I can feel nothing but humbled by the work my colleagues are doing. It almost makes me feel like I could continue as the organizations flack jacket
The alphabet, new exercise regimes, and the noodle tour.
As for daily life, my Khmer is improving rapidly, so I'm able to have pretty decent conversations as long as people speak "muoy-muoy" or "one-by-one." I decided to start up with reading and writing, and so far, I've managed the 33 consonants: Gaw Khaw Ghuh Khuh Nguh. Jaw Chaw Juh Chugh Nyuh. Daw Taw Duh Tuh Naw. Thaw Taw Thuh Tuh Nuh. Baw Paw Buh Puh Muh. Yuh Ruh Luh Vuh. Saw Haw Law Aw. Radical.
Since I decided running (or even walking) was out of the question, I've taken to switching between my moto and a bicycle around town, and have instituted an evening regimen of crazy solo dancing to loud music. Next time I go to Phnom Penh, I'm buying a $1 pilates DVD. Elongated musculature here I come!
As if to counteract the good intentions of my new exercise regimen, Rumdourl has decided that my knowledge of Cambodian cuisine is too limited, so she's decided to take me on a "noodle tour" -- one new shop in Kampong Cham every week. I consider this supplementary to my Khmer cooking education -- I've been learning 2-3 new dishes per month, courtesy of friends and their mothers. Next up: Fish Amok.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Flak Jacket
I haven't written very much about work stuff, perhaps because I've still been trying to process everything myself and get a handle on the best way to describe it all, but I guess here's as good a time as any to make a go of it.
So here I am, working with a local education NGO here in Kampong Cham. The organization's origins go back to April 1996, when USAID decided to halt funding for their Cambodia Assistance to Primary Education Project because of the political climate in Cambodia. A group of local staff from Kampong Cham province decided that it was unacceptable to suddenly drop aid and technical assistance to schools, and continued their efforts with their own personal resources. Eventually, with support from the local and national partners, the project was reborn into the organization it is today.
As I've described before, we're your typical alphabet soup of projects funded by a myriad of donors from all over the place. We try to organize ourselves into sections and consolidate projects into longer term programs as much as possible. I work in the Girls' Education Initiative (gei) section which currently includes two main programs: our Girls Secondary School Scholarship Program which includes a bunch of different activities including vocational training and "life skills" classes like computers, cooking, and hair-cutting, and the REACH project.
I was mostly hired to advise the REACH team, specifically to help them with research design and analysis, designing the new activities based on our research, and writing reports and proposals. I also act as advisor to the gei section in general, which currently means I'm sorting out a projected budget for the next 3 years, writing proposals to try to secure the money, and writing reports to current donors.
Unfortunately, day-to-day I feel like I'm buried in a mountain of bureaucracy. I thought I would be able to help this local NGO and learn a lot about development and I think I was right, but not in the way that I expected. Honestly, I'm most useful as a flak jacket to protect my team from the demands of donors so they can go ahead and get the actual work done. I guess someone needs to do it, but it's not especially fulfilling. I'm trying as much as possible not to just do the work, but instead help the team learn skills themselves so that they can function more independently of an advisor in the future, but it's tough to find the time and the patience. It's a constant battle between just doing things myself because it's faster and simpler, and trying to cajole the team into doing it themselves. So far, I'm teaching a weekly advanced English writing class (sparsely attended) and mentoring our team leader Rumdourl and temporary Program Manager, Rith, but it's slow going.
I guess I live for trips out to the field which remind me of the children and communities that all this paperwork is meant to help. This past week, I went out to visit three groups of girls who received a small loan from our NGO to start a business after completed our vocational training programs in sewing / beautician skills. It was super to see what they had achieved in only a little over 2 months. One group of 5 girls was making over $150/week sewing clothes for people in their village, at least twice as much as they could make individually in the rice fields.
To mark the difference the loan actually made, we also visited some individual students who hadn't received any credit assistance after finishing their training; 3 of 4 were out in the fields working, their sewing machines covered and unattended. Unfortunately, it seems unlikely that we can make the program much bigger ourselves since our main focus is education and we don't have the expertise nor the manpower nor the donor connections... so I'm going to try to look for a local microfinance partner who we can pass the groups off to instead.
I'm starting to see how education development can be a difficult field, given that the results are so vague... We assume that students who have more education are better off, but it's not always the immediate reality. In the long term, there's no doubt that a better educated populace is good for political stability and necessary for economic development, and it's certainly worthy to give children at least the option of a quality education if they want it, but like the example of the vocational training/microfinance link, it seems like education may be necessary to a point, but is woefully insufficient without other programs.
Anyway, enough for now. Missing home lots, but still doing well.
So here I am, working with a local education NGO here in Kampong Cham. The organization's origins go back to April 1996, when USAID decided to halt funding for their Cambodia Assistance to Primary Education Project because of the political climate in Cambodia. A group of local staff from Kampong Cham province decided that it was unacceptable to suddenly drop aid and technical assistance to schools, and continued their efforts with their own personal resources. Eventually, with support from the local and national partners, the project was reborn into the organization it is today.
As I've described before, we're your typical alphabet soup of projects funded by a myriad of donors from all over the place. We try to organize ourselves into sections and consolidate projects into longer term programs as much as possible. I work in the Girls' Education Initiative (gei) section which currently includes two main programs: our Girls Secondary School Scholarship Program which includes a bunch of different activities including vocational training and "life skills" classes like computers, cooking, and hair-cutting, and the REACH project.
I was mostly hired to advise the REACH team, specifically to help them with research design and analysis, designing the new activities based on our research, and writing reports and proposals. I also act as advisor to the gei section in general, which currently means I'm sorting out a projected budget for the next 3 years, writing proposals to try to secure the money, and writing reports to current donors.
Unfortunately, day-to-day I feel like I'm buried in a mountain of bureaucracy. I thought I would be able to help this local NGO and learn a lot about development and I think I was right, but not in the way that I expected. Honestly, I'm most useful as a flak jacket to protect my team from the demands of donors so they can go ahead and get the actual work done. I guess someone needs to do it, but it's not especially fulfilling. I'm trying as much as possible not to just do the work, but instead help the team learn skills themselves so that they can function more independently of an advisor in the future, but it's tough to find the time and the patience. It's a constant battle between just doing things myself because it's faster and simpler, and trying to cajole the team into doing it themselves. So far, I'm teaching a weekly advanced English writing class (sparsely attended) and mentoring our team leader Rumdourl and temporary Program Manager, Rith, but it's slow going.
I guess I live for trips out to the field which remind me of the children and communities that all this paperwork is meant to help. This past week, I went out to visit three groups of girls who received a small loan from our NGO to start a business after completed our vocational training programs in sewing / beautician skills. It was super to see what they had achieved in only a little over 2 months. One group of 5 girls was making over $150/week sewing clothes for people in their village, at least twice as much as they could make individually in the rice fields.
To mark the difference the loan actually made, we also visited some individual students who hadn't received any credit assistance after finishing their training; 3 of 4 were out in the fields working, their sewing machines covered and unattended. Unfortunately, it seems unlikely that we can make the program much bigger ourselves since our main focus is education and we don't have the expertise nor the manpower nor the donor connections... so I'm going to try to look for a local microfinance partner who we can pass the groups off to instead.
I'm starting to see how education development can be a difficult field, given that the results are so vague... We assume that students who have more education are better off, but it's not always the immediate reality. In the long term, there's no doubt that a better educated populace is good for political stability and necessary for economic development, and it's certainly worthy to give children at least the option of a quality education if they want it, but like the example of the vocational training/microfinance link, it seems like education may be necessary to a point, but is woefully insufficient without other programs.
Anyway, enough for now. Missing home lots, but still doing well.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Cooling off
Today, the weather seems to be finally changing and there's a gorgeous breeze blowing through the office, cooling sweaty brows and tempers alike. After a number of heated moments in the past few days, it seems like things are finally calming down. If I will learn anything from my time here, I hope it will be patience and grace despite frustration because without these qualities, I won't survive another month.
This past week has been my most difficult by far in terms of my work here in Cambodia. Some of my worst nightmares of the donor community have come alive in ugly detail this week, and the sudden flare of my own displeasure with our partner, added to the unrelated issues brewing on our project team seems to resulted in the proverbial pot boiling over. Take a fundamentally flawed system, add miscommunication and language barriers, egos and reputation, throw in a little bit of incompetence and my own impatience, and you've got the recipe for a serious headache.
To be crystal clear, though there has been a small issue on the project team I'm advising, the major issues I'm taking about have to do with the folks who are funding my main project. Anyway, I don't have much time to write right now, but my seething sense of righteousness seriously needed a vent. I will describe the meeting and its aftermath in excruciating detail soon.
This past week has been my most difficult by far in terms of my work here in Cambodia. Some of my worst nightmares of the donor community have come alive in ugly detail this week, and the sudden flare of my own displeasure with our partner, added to the unrelated issues brewing on our project team seems to resulted in the proverbial pot boiling over. Take a fundamentally flawed system, add miscommunication and language barriers, egos and reputation, throw in a little bit of incompetence and my own impatience, and you've got the recipe for a serious headache.
To be crystal clear, though there has been a small issue on the project team I'm advising, the major issues I'm taking about have to do with the folks who are funding my main project. Anyway, I don't have much time to write right now, but my seething sense of righteousness seriously needed a vent. I will describe the meeting and its aftermath in excruciating detail soon.
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