So far so good

I'm very much enjoying life here in Phnom Penh. Still taking in all the newness. And the heat, which requires that I spend half my time drinking water and the other half looking for a loo. I am now volunteering at the NGO and learning so much about how NGOs run, how Cambodian culture works, and how to survive commuting to work on a moto-dop (see photo of me in my power ranger/boba fett helmet)).

The traffic here truly must be seen to be believed. In the western world, now and then, you read in the paper about some fool who drives up an exit ramp onto the highway in the wrong direction, causing a multi-vehicle accident. But here, every day, in every lane, and across every lane, every different type of vehicle is moving and jockeying for position. Most intersections don’t have stop signs, so it is just a matter of weaving your way through the chaos and usually the bigger vehicle wins. Gridlock is common and the notion of do not block the box does not exist. Where there is the occasional stoplight, police lie in wait for any moto-dop drivers not wearing helmets and when an unsuspecting driver stops at the light, the police run out and grab the moto keys and charge the driver a fine on the spot. No payment, no keys. It is mesmerizing to watch all of this from the back of a moto and I am usually too curious to be scared as I hang on and keep an eye out for bag snatchers.

In terms of getting settled socially, the ex-pat community is small and very friendly. New people arrive every day, without knowing a soul, so phone numbers are exchanged over coffee within the first five minutes of meeting. This feels a bit like being in kindergarten, when you first go on to the playground, and you see lots of other kids who kind of look like you. So you go up and say, hi my name is ___, let’s be friends. And it’s a done deal. That is what it is like here. Which is refreshing in such a faraway place.

This past weekend, I got to know my way around town a bit. I went to a local market called the Russian Market and bought fabric to have made into clothing. This can be done very cheaply ($6 for a skirt) and is a better option than buying ready-made clothes, which won’t fit me anyway, as am too big to fit any clothes made for local women. At the market you can also buy movies for $1.50, so took advantage of that. Then spent all Sunday lounging by the pool meeting others who were also new in town. Not a bad life, but good to remember that not everyone here gets to live like this.

There are so many things to worry about here, like bag snatchers, traffic accidents, horrible people exploiting local women, but it is important to try not to think of these all the time or you'll never leave the house. Therefore, I try to focus on immediate problems and so far, my main worry is about this adorable little puppy named Abbey at an Internet cafe I frequent. Rabies is a huge problem here and I did not get the rabies shots. When I visit the cafe, Abbey always runs to me and tries to give my foot a lick. Because I am a huge fan of dogs, I would normally encourage this behavior. But instead I am shooing her and basically running away, which feels (and looks) absurd and goes against my nature. Oh well. For the time being, better that than foaming at the mouth...See photo of the savage beast above.

Overall so far so good.

Getting Settled

I have moved into my new home, a group house in Phnom Penh. At present there are only two others, a girl and a guy, both out here for six months as well. More housemates to arrive in September. I have started working and am currently learning the ins and outs of the business-this is a horrible pun, but I am trying to find some kind of black humour to get me through what I am going to see here. So far looking at basic operational issues and enjoying being at a workplace where they sing and dance in the afternoons and sometimes play Bob Marley tunes. Across the street is a house where they make flip flops and everyone is high on glue. Good times.

In town, there are options: Huge local markets, with Khmer food, but also many fancy western cafes with $3.00 coffees and pancakes and muffins. I saw a street vendor selling dead tarantulas for snacks the other day. An expat friend described eating one, crunchy legs, but eating the body he said "took some getting used to." Right: While I am embracing this experience, that is one thing I will never do. Ahh, but never say never, right? In other firsts, I have been riding on the back of moto taxis, which I thought would be too scary, but is in fact so much fun. In the words of Sheryl Crow, a change will do you good.

First and Last Impressions

Sapa, Vietnam, where street gangs of Black Hmong ladies in full tribal costume harangue you the moment you descend from the minibus at 7 AM. They are selling bracelets and purses, which is very much what you are wanting after a mostly sleepless night on a train and before you've had a coffee. They are just trying to make an honest buck and have benefited greatly from the tourist influx. Aside from the hard sell, Sapa is stunning country in northern Vietnam and any visit would not, in my mind, be complete without seeing those mountains. The mountains themselves are not massive, but they are unusual, as mountains go, very green and pointy. Plus the area is so different from the hustle and bustle of Hanoi and Saigon, making it well worth the trip. The trails are not great and if it rains, which it did when I was there, it is very slippery. But with the rains come moody low clouds and very pretty fog. And there is a crazy mud slide thing you must cross and you feel like you'll plunge any minute into the gorge below. Which you might. The overnight train to Lao Cai is an experience itself--you don't get much sleep, as the train is noisy and bumpy, but then you have three strangers sleeping in the same small cabin, so maybe for the best?

Anyway, that was the end of my time in Vietnam and I am currently in Siem Reap, Cambodia, home of the famous Angkor Wat. The Temples-they are lovely, impressive, and amazing achievements. But I am afraid-and I hate to say this-that I have discovered I am not really a temple kind of girl. I liked them very much, but was more enthralled by the elephants galloping by. But I will surely be back during my time here and maybe a temple or two at sunrise will change my mind. I may have sightseeing fatigue. The town of Siem Reap itself is worth several visits, as so many good restaurants and great people watching. Some odd slightly off-putting sights as well: One street performer had a stunt where he placed his child, a two year old or so, on his shoulders and the baby stood unsupported for about ten seconds. Then the man took up a collection for this "trick". Stuff like this bothers me, but things are that way here. I intend on being a patient observer, at least for the time being. Place your bets for how long that lasts.

Tomorrow to Phnom Penh. Home.

A Day in Hue (this rhymes)

I've spent the past few days in Hue. Hue is remarkably hot and the heat is not interrupted, as it is in Saigon, by welcome afternoon rains. Thankfully, the cyclo guys are never far away and always happy to see me, as I think I overpay every time. In terms of sightseeing, while my guidebook touted the restaurants and history, the most interesting thing I saw was an outdoor market I discovered by chance when I got lost my first day. It is near or on An Duong Vuong, in the opposite direction from the Perfume River. Ladies selling every kind of fish, vegetable, and meat, all in the open air. While I think it spurred me to become a vegetarian while over here, it is how people grocery shop when there is no Tescos or Fresh Fields. These photos are the ladies at the market. They seemed flattered and mostly happy to have their photos taken, though a couple ladies wanted a dollar and one rather aggressively wanted my water bottle.

Perfume River

In Saigon, there is an art to crossing the streets, of walking slowly and deliberately, and not panicking at the sight of dozens of oncoming motorbikes bearing down on you. I had to watch people before I tried it myself. The key is not to run, the bikes go around you. But yesterday, I took a break from walking and instead toured the city's museums in a cyclo, similar to the one pictured here. My driver stayed awake most of the time, unlike this guy (that is not me). My driver's name was Nam. Aside from the guy in the photo, everyone here is very busy, making, cooking, or selling something. Or driving around on their motorbikes. My Mekong River tour guide explained that without a motorbike, you don't have much of a life in Saigon. 8 million people, 4 million motorbikes. And counting.

Today I am in Hue, which is a different world from Saigon. Sitting next to me on the plane here was a Vietnamese woman, Mrs. Tran, who was going home to visit her 89 year old mother. It's a small world, as Mrs. Tran lives in Leesburg, VA and has for the past 18 years. We had a nice chat, she works as a cashier in the Giant, she was tired as had been on the phone til 3 AM talking to her husband's sister. She got kind of teary eyed as we landed in Hue. I don't think she'd been home for three years and she had lost her husband in the meantime. She explained that last time she visited, he did all the work and she just did what he said. But this time, she is having to do everything herself and she is working very hard. Nice lady, Mrs. Tran. I hope she has a good visit.

Room in my heart

Contemplating my grown-up gap year in December 2008, I knew I wanted to do several things: Study a language, travel, and "give back", in some yet to be determined manner. Language study was easily sorted, as the options are endless, a trek in the Nepalese Himalaya took care of the travel bit, but the giving back required more careful thought. I wanted to do something meaningful but was not sure what.

I know people give back in many ways: Volunteer, donate money, clothes, etc. Some can create foundations, like Bill Gates; others give in more individual and emotionally enduring ways. I have a friend who many years ago adopted a failure to thrive little girl. One day over lunch, he explained to me why he and his wife had decided to do this. Both were a bit older, already had children by previous marriages, so there was no pressing need to adopt. But as he explained to me, after he learned about this little girl, he and his wife felt strongly: "We had room in our home for her...and room in our hearts."

Room in our hearts. That phrase has reverberated in me for years. How do we know if we have sufficient room in our hearts for something as hard as raising a troubled child? Caring for a sick parent? Easing someone's pain? Perhaps the oft-quoted, tired, but still relevant Beatles song: "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make" provides some guidance? Or maybe we can't know for sure. But we move forward and do our best.

As a start, a year ago, I volunteered for a charity in the UK, a woman's shelter that was in need of help getting its business in order. The program used a team-based approach, where I was teamed with three other business professionals assigned to this charity. This approach worked well, as everyone brought something different to the table. It was a great experience: I learned a bit about how charities run in the UK, I met other like-minded business people giving their time and expertise, and I helped (I think) the charity tackle some strategy challenges. Also, this was clearly the right direction for me.

So back to the question of how to give back during this time away from work? I knew I enjoyed helping charities in need of business skills but lacking funds to hire expensive consultants. As the time approached when I needed to commit to a volunteer project, serendipity led me to Cambodia. At the time I was merely gathering information, surfing the web researching my options, talking to different people, when the perfect opportunity landed in my lap. And, no fool, I took it.

And so has begun an extensive study of a country about which before I knew very little (sadly, as Cambodia is often eclipsed by its neighbor Vietnam in the minds of many Americans). And so too has begun a mental preparation for several months living in Phnom Penh, helping an organization that aids young girls, kids really, to leave the brothels and start better lives. I leave in two weeks, am ready to go, have already packed to within an inch of my life--my North Face bag is bursting at the seams. But there is plenty of room in my heart.