Surabaya

I finally made it to Indonesia! Although, I am never flying Silk Air again. When I got to the Surabaya Airport and received the Visa on Arrival, I saw that they did not need a full length visa page in my passport at all. The visa was not even attached when they handed me back my passport. What a crock of sh*t! Oh well, it's over with so there's no point in dwelling.

I was welcomed by my Auntie Jeanie, who was holding up a sign with my English name on it upon arriving. We loaded up her SUV and immediately drove to one of her in-laws or relatives' new home for a "house blessing" party. The spread on the table in the middle of the dining room was incredible. So many different and colorful dishes that I had never seen before. I especially loved the spiced fish steamed in banana leaves. I think it was called ikan pepes.

My auntie and her daughter, Annie, both speak Bahasa Indonesian, as they have lived in this country for most of their lives. Auntie and I communicated over the last two days via broken Mandarin, Cantonese, and some English. Annie speaks fluent English and is the 29-year old mother of these three adorably well-behaved boys, all between the ages of 20-months and 5 years. She 's kind of that hip young mom that most women want to be but have a hard time becoming. All I know is, when (or if) I have a couple of kids, I would not mind having her figure, nor her even-keeled temper...

Yesterday, Annie took me to a mosque with Chinese-style architecture, the Masjid Cheng Ho. We drove around Surabaya and stopped to eat some great food throughout the day. One of her cousins owns this "yellow rice" shop that serves the most flavorful dishes. So good.

One of my grand uncle's drivers is taking my mom, my grandma, my auntie, and I to another city in the north where my grand uncle has a vacation home. We'll be spending the next few days up there before coming back after the new year. I originally wanted to go all out and party in Bali for the 31st, but after all that's happened, my priorities have changed a bit. I am just looking forward to seeing more of Indonesia with my family, as I know I can party on an island any time. I'm actually headed for Bali on the 2nd and will be spending a little over a week there and in Lombok before heading to Hong Kong until the end of January.

What an amazing two months it's been...

Fingers Crossed

So, this is it. I'm heading to the US Embassy in the next hour to ask them to add pages to my passport. If all goes well and the task is completed within a few hours, I'll be on the afternoon flight to Surabaya.

While I hadn't planned this stop in Singapore, the last few days haven't been disappointing. I went out to dinner with DH and Stella again the night after Christmas; this time Luke McNeal (another Service Sourcer) and his wife joined us for Mexican food before we went and caught James Cameron's new 3-D fantasy adventure, Avatar. Like most of James Cameron's films, I thought this one was half an hour longer than it needed to be. But, it was entertaining, and the range of imagination displayed made the length of the film tolerable.

Yesterday, I took a bus down to Little India and caught a glimpse of a special ceremony at one of the Hindu temples. I could listen to the men playing their instruments for days...

Christmas Night on Clarke Quay

After enjoying a pizza dinner with DH and Stella at Bella Pizza, we went and grabbed drinks at Harry's where a man with the voice of Barry Manilow was crooning Christmas songs...good times. :)

It's a Small Small World

Not all is lost.

About an hour ago, I asked the hotel receptionist to have someone bring a laptop up to my room so I could check my email and notify my family members my new phone number in Singapore. I got into my inbox, and sitting there was an email from one of my former Service Source managers, David Hwang. Apparently, he and his wife Stella were starting to plan their Vietnam trip and wanted to see what I had to say about the country on my blog. He saw that I was stuck in Singapore for the next few days and wrote me. What are the chances?

I'm meeting my friend Eric later this afternoon and then might catch DH and Stella for dinner tonight. Maybe I won't have to spend Christmas alone this year after all. (Nate, if you're still feeling a little homesick for the fam, get your butt over here to Singapore and join me!)

Penalized on a Technicality?

I haven't cried this much since I watched the senior citizen version of Ryan Gosling lie down next to sweet wrinkly Rachel McAdams and pass in The Notebook.

Ok, I'm not sad anymore. Not frustrated. Just infuriated. Did you know that in order for a non-Indonesian to be able to step off the plane in Indonesia, that individual must have a full empty page in their passport in order for Immigration to grant a VOA (Visa on Arrival)? I did not.

Thinking Singapore was only going to be a 3 hour layover, it has now become a 4 day nightmare. Well, I'm just being dramatic. I'm sure it's going to be completely fine (maybe even fun if I get ahold of my friend Eric from LA or my former manager DH and his lovely wife Stella...the newest Service Source office being here).

When I landed at the Changi Airport in Singapore several hours ago, I picked up my stuff from Baggage Claims and went straight for the Departures Hall to check it back in for my next flight scheduled to leave for Surabaya around 4:30. When I stepped up to the counter and handed over my passport to the young woman, she flipped through it, a look of concern crossed her face, and she said, "One moment please." I waited a few minutes until she rushed back and said to me, "I'm sorry, but you cannot travel to Surabaya today." Wait - what? Why? "If we allow you to fly to Indonesia today, they will just send you back. You don't have any empty pages left in your passport. And for you to get the Visa in your passport, they are very strict in requiring an entire page to be empty." You have got to be kidding me. What am I supposed to do? "Let's call the Embassy to see if they are open. You can go and try to pick up a new passport or get an emergency one extended for this purpose." How far is the Embassy? My flight is in two hours, and it's Christmas Eve - are they even open? "Oh yes. They are probably closed half day today. They are also closed for US holiday tomorrow. And they are closed Saturday and Sunday. That means you can go on Monday." What about my flight today? Do I get a refund? "I'm not sure, you'll have to find out what to do about your ticket, go to the ticketing counter and they will tell you." I swear, when you just want some answers that are actually going to benefit you...

I ended up having to push the flight to this coming Monday, meaning I am staying in Singapore for the holiday. When all I wanted was just to hug my mom on Christmas Eve - the thing that's stopping me is a stupid passport technicality. Ugh. Unbelievable. I wasn't even ashamed bawling like a big baby at the airport. I walked to the payphone right after changing the flight and called my dad who sounded half-asleep, poor guy. "Dad. It's me. I'm in Singapore.....wahhh." What's wrong? Where are you? "I'm at the airport. Wahhh. They won't let me leave. Wahhhh. I have to stay until Monday. Tell Uncle Daniel to call Grand Uncle to tell Mom not to come to the airport tonight. WAHHHHHH!" Ok, don't cry, don't worry. Wan't me to ask Uncle Raymond who his relatives in Singapore are and then I can give you their contact information? OK, call me back in 10 minutes." So, I hung up, cried some more just because it felt good to, and called him back. "Turns out, they are all on holiday in Shanghai. That's okay. Singapore is supposed to be very fun. Calm down, just find a nice hotel, no matter the cost, and just stay there and try to enjoy yourself and don't worry. (My Dad, who is usually very stern, was so so supportive and comforting. I had half expected him to lecture me for not knowing about the passport rule, but was so glad when he didn't. Instead he did nothing but try to make me feel better.) So get a new SIM card and once you do, call me and give me the number." OK, I'll call you soon. Thanks, Dad.

I have to admit, I don't know what I went ballistic over. I think it was the fact that I had so looked forward to being with family, especially my mom, for the holidays. It hasn't felt like the holidays for me this year at all. Ever since I got sick, I have been pretty emotional. I was watching little Cindy Lou Who sing Where Are You, Christmas? in How the Grinch Stole Christmas last night in my hotel room, and I actually cried. It's strange how my family is split up this Christmas. My Dad in California (hopefully celebrating with my Aunt Kitty and their mom), my Mom with her mom in Surabaya, Wendy in Brooklyn with her fellow residents, and me in Singapore (on a technicality)...

Being away always makes me appreciate my family a little more when we are together. I'm not sure what the next few days will look like, but if I can't wish you happy holidays over the phone, online, or in person - Merry Christmas. I hope you are with the ones you love and care about.

Love,
Winnie

P.S. Dave, I used to think you had some of the worse luck possible. I think you may have passed on your torch. Thanks, buddy. ;)

If it's not Dengue, what is it?

First of all, Mom, Dad, Wendy, and Uncle Daniel - thank you for calling me every few hours the last couple of days to make sure I was alive in my hotel room (and for sending me all that info on symptoms, treatments, ways to aleviate the fever/pain, questions to ask the doctor). Being away, it felt reassuring to know that you knew what was going on and you were only a phone call away. Maureen Miller (Nate's mom), thank you so much for your email. Your efforts to find contact information and health services in HCMC was much appreciated, I appreciate the time you took to send me that note.

Now, I'll go on to describe what happened on Monday, the day after I posted about going to the hospital...

I was standing in line inside of a large busy grocery store when I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. At first, I thought I was going to vomit. When nothing came up, I noticed that the sounds of the store were intensifying in my ears. Clink! Clank! Ca-ching! - all became these deafening noises coming in and then slowly drowning out. My head started throbbing with pain, and I could feel my pulse race. When I blinked, all I could see were splotches of white light, everywhere. I was going blind. Shit.

I left the fruit and water I was going to buy on the counter and slowly made my way towards the exit, wanting to get away from the pushy crowds. I knew that if this white out was to last for a while, and I was amongst a bunch of foreign strangers, I would just feel claustrophobic, and the situation would be worse. When I got outside, I had to keep my eyes closed because the sun was so bright and every time I opened them, I just got blinded. I stood there for another 20 seconds waiting and blinking until my vision was back to normal and I wasn't feeling so sick. That was probably the scariest feeling I've ever felt. Not knowing what is happening to you and not being able to control any of these symptoms.

When I got back to the hotel, I tried calling the doctor who consulted me on Sunday, but of course, the number on his card was no longer valid. I tried to have my hotel receptionist call the number just to make sure I wasn't dialing it incorrectly, but she also got the same message. Another white out came again at that point - this time while I was speaking with the receptionist, who seemed terrified to see me gripping the counter with my eyes glued shut, head in my hands, waiting for it to all go away. As soon as I could see a little, I walked to the computer in the lobby and emailed the doctor, copying my sister so she was aware. A second later, the email bounced back. The address on his business card was incorrect, as well. Damnit. I just hopped in a taxi out front and asked them to take me to the hospital.

When I got there, the tears came. I told them what happened and how scared I was when I couldn't see, so they put me in a room, laid me down, and said Dr. Susi would see me in a few minutes. When he came in, he listened, nodded, and said they'd go ahead and run the Dengue test a day earlier. The results came back negative. He really didn't have much to comment about the blind spells, tried to reassure me that I wouldn't fall into a coma in my hotel room, gave me his personal phone number and his correct email address, and said to come back in the morning for a final evaluation.

When I asked what this febrile viral illness could be, he said it could be a form of menengitis or encephalitis. But because it could be so many other things, it wouldn't be realistic to test me for everything. He just reassured me that I wouldn't need to have a spinal tap, it wasn't parasitic, and any long term damage shouldn't be a concern for now. I understand that not everyone can be diagnosed and one may not find the answers to all the questions one has, but it just doesn't sit well with me that no one can figure out what exactly happened here. My sister is convinced it's Dengue, and having read about it, I wouldn't be surprised. Regardless of the outcome, I guess it's always more comforting when you know.

It's now Day 6, and the only symptom I am feeling is a minor headache. It still hurts a little to open my eyes wide or look up, but I think that should go away in a day or two. Dr. Susi provided a medical report to clear me for travel to Indonesia, so I'm flying out tomorrow to meet my mom and grandmother in Surabaya. They're staying with our extended family whom will be showing us their home and taking us to Bali on the 26th. I have yet to make any plans for NYE, but right now, the important thing is to get and remain healthy. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to being with my mom. I feel better already just thinking about it.

Mosquito-borne Illness? Check

Having had an ongoing fever, chills, sweats, a splitting headache, pain beneath my eyes for the last 72 hours, a friend of mine convinced me that I should go to see a doctor. I went to one of the international hospitals in Ho Chi Minh City this afternoon, and it turns out, I may have Dengue Fever. The doctor gave me a cocktail of drugs for the pain, stuck oxygen tubes up my nose (apparently, the oxygen levels in my body were too low), and took some blood. He said it looked like a case of Dengue due to results of the influenza test coming back negative and the fact that my bloodwork shows a viral disease. Funny thing is, I've been joking about the chances of getting Malaria this entire time, with all the mosquito bites I've acquired...

The doctor sent me back to my hotel armed with Paracetamol Codeine and told me to come back on Tuesday morning for more bloodwork to be done to confirm.

In case you're curious about Dengue Fever, check out the wiki page for details on the virus: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dengue_fever

Originally, I thought the fever was a symptom of an oncoming flu or the result of altitude sickness from being up in the highlands north of Sapa last week. I thought it could be due to insufficient sleep I've been getting the last few weeks, the bitter cold that I was unprepared for during the overnight homestay in the Ta Van Village, or just my immune system telling me that it was exhausted from moving from one city to another. Eating out every day for two months can't be all that healthy for you either. Needless to say, I'm going to take it easy here for the next few days.

Asia Media Labs

This was made by Todd Brown, a filmaker from Los Angeles whom I met in Phnom Penh: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcPUp84yVZg

Makes me want to go creative!

Northern Vietnam

No longer waking up to loud speakers spewing political propaganda outside my window at 7am, we have left big city Hanoi for the slower-paced mountainside village of Sapa. From every angle, the steep hills and wet rice paddies look straight off of a postcard. With what seems to be endless valleys and rows upon rows of vegetation, you can't take a bad photograph here.

It was unfortunate that our nine hour train ride was during the night, thus we weren't able to see much of the northern countryside. While I enjoyed lively Hanoi, it's plethora of street-side smoky bowls of Bun Cha, and watching the activity around the large serene lake in the middle of the Old Quarter, I'm glad to be leaving behind the chaos for a few days. My friend Luan, who was just here a few weeks ago, warned me that it might be raining in Sapa, but it's absolutely gorgeous today. It's about 21 degrees Celsius with a light cool breeze, and the air smells crisp with notes of grilled meats on bamboo sticks coming from the vendors up and down the street.

Sapa is infamous for it's villages of ethnic minorities. We just visited the H'mong Cat Cat village this morning, but I was disappointed (although not surprised) that the main thing the children were encouraged to do was walk around selling handicrafts and ask for money after pictures were taken. They are put to work to help their families earn a living at a very young age. I wonder how many are actually enrolled at the primary school we saw down at the edge of the village.

Vietnam has been...interesting. The disobedience of traffic laws is even more terrifying than Cambodia and Thailand combined, access to Facebook has been disabled (on occasion - though probably a good thing), and if you are on the Atkins diet - this is not the country for you. I don't think I have yet to have one meal that has not consisted mainly of rice or noodles and a lot of protein. Last night, Nate asked me what I missed most about food in the States. I couldn't name one thing, not even burritos. I just feel all "eaten out." (No, not like that - get your mind out of the gutter.) The last few countries I have stayed in, I have not held back. Everyone is gaining weight from the holiday eating. Why shouldn't I be allowed to participate?

Get Your Happy On!

Try to get past Poppy's overwhelming energy during the first half hour of the movie (it becomes less annoying once you get to know her): http://www.happy-go-lucky-movie.co.uk/

And this is coming from someone who is (more often than not) accused of being too positive...you would think it'd be a good thing, but I've met too many people who don't appreciate it as much.

Giddy as a Monk

I thought monks were trained to be calm at all times and particularly neutral with their emotions. From the encounter(s) I had my last night in Phnom Penh, I am starting to wonder...

Yesterday, after the sun set, I headed over to Wat Botum (a temple in the middle of the city) to catch the screening of short films dedicated to celebrating International Human Rights Day. The screenings were to occur in the temple's garden, but because the grounds were completely unlit and it was my first time there, I was lost. I went deeper into the compound and noticed a young monk standing on steps near the side of a building watching me. I walked over to him and asked, "Do you speak any English?" He broke into this huge grin and said, "Um. A small, small. Heehee." I said, "Ok, you can speak little bit? Can you tell me where temple garden is?" (I find that when I'm speaking with someone who isn't a native English speaker and has trouble with the language, my English starts to decline as well. It's as if I think they will understand me more clearly if I sound like them.) Still giggling uncontrollably, the young monk motions to me (monks can't touch women at all, not even their mothers) and says, "Can you come wit me? I wan show you to my fren." How do you say no to a monk? So, I obliged and walked with him into what was his bedroom that he shared with a fellow monk. As we are chatting and exchanging formalities, I notice more and more monks are coming into his room. Soon, there are about 9 monks surrounding me, asking me questions such as: 1) Where am I from? 2) No, really, where am I really from? 3) How do I say my name in Chinese? 4) What is my religion? 5) Why am I not Buddhist? 6) What did I study? 7) Why, why, why am I not married? 8) When do I think I will get married? 9) Can they come to my wedding if I ever do get married? 10) Do I want to be all of their pen pals? 11) What do I think of Cambodia? 12) When will I be coming back to Cambodia? 13) Can their friend take me to the countryside on their motorbike next time I come to Phnom Penh? 14) Can they call me in America if they are in a bad mood and need someone to talk to? And that doesn't even cover half of the inquisition. Next thing I know, two and a half hours had passed, I had been force-fed a soybean icee, a durian milkshake (and for those of you who have never seen, smelled, or tasted durian - think yellow poo that smells as bad as it looks), and almost a second dinner if I hadn't refused to consume anything else coming into that room. What really did it though was when TaVanny (the giddy monk) pulled out this huge portrait shot he had taken pre-monk days and shoved it into my hands saying, "I want you have me pictures." I looked at it and almost laughed out loud. First of all, the picture is the size of a magazine page. Second, he has this crazy serious look on his face, so different from the goofy look he has on now. And lastly - this is the best part - he tells me everything has been retouched with Photoshop. The hair on his head, the suit he is wearing, the background. Ha, I love it! I am putting this up somewhere where it will always bring a smile to my face.

I ended up missing the films I had intended to see, but really, I am so glad I got a chance to converse with these 21 year-olds. I think it's the first time they've ever had a woman in their room, and TaVanny did confirm it was the first and longest English conversation he's ever had. When a filmmaker I met at Meta House the previous night came to pick me up from the Wat, he was almost succumbed to stay and talk with TaVanny and his friends too, but showed much more resistance than I was able to. I guess having lived in PP for a better part of this year, he's gotten used to these instances when monks just really want to practice their English and disregard any plans you may have had for that day. For me though, I just kept thinking I could have kicked myself for not bringing my D40 out that night...

Dreams

After noticing flyers posted all over town for an art gallery called Meta House, I wanted to see for myself what the fuss was all about. Last night, I went to a rooftop screening of "In a Dream," a documentary by Jeremiah Zagar, a young man from Philadelphia who followed his parents and older brother for some time documenting life as a member of an artist's family. The film made for an emotional look into the passionate life of American mosaic artist Isaiah Zagar, the craze that feeds his all-consuming masterpieces, and how his creative priorities ultimately affect his family life.

I imagine that most serious artists have this dilemma, one that must strongly impact their families or others closest to them. They seem to have trouble with the concept of "settling down." As my mom once observed when we were viewing modern art in Mexico City, "In order to be an artist, one would have to be a little off."

What's interesting is that the filmmaker happens to be Isaiah's youngest son. I don't want to give away the content of this film, but, all the flaws, intimate moments, personal pains shown in a film about your own family - that must have made for an extremely sensitive experience. When the film focuses around the relationship between Isaiah and his wife Julia, it's hard not to question the matters of the heart.

I've never been an optimist in the topic of love. In everything else, I am (to a fault) overly optimistic. Those who know me will probably agree and be able to look back on a time when every idea sounded absolutely fantastic and bound to work out. Call it being naive. I like to look at it as being positive. It's always been a challenge for me to see something like "love" as something that lasts. It's not that I don't see it exist in the marital relationships within my family, it's not like I don't know couples who seem genuinely in love with each other, I just don't see the forever part. I have yet to meet someone that I could or would want to be with "forever." Sure, I've been in 2, 3, 4 yr relationships where I felt like I loved and cared about the person, but was there ever a point in the relationship where I could honestly say to myself: I want to be with this person, grow old and die with them? No. Is that a bad thing? No. Does that mean I wasn't truly in love with them? I don't know anyone in the position to judge that. Who is to define what love is supposed to mean and everything it entails? Just like everything else - it may be about ups and downs, phases you go in and out of, the good days and the bad. It's every bit as temperamental as we are as humans. But then again, what do I know?

Have a Good Time...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NQM5TZqoaUE

Disclaimer: Long post. I suggest a bathroom break midway through reading.

For the most part, the villagers of the floating community we photographed were surprisingly receptive to our intrusion of their Sunday afternoon. They wore genuine smiles when Nathan approached and exchanged warm greetings with him in Khmer. Many waved when they saw us coming. It was an alternative reaction from the times I've been approached by dusty children asking for money after I take photographs of them.

In a way, it's as if Nathan makes them feel like celebrities. For some of these children, who don't leave their compounds for anything except to attend school (if at all), they get a chance to "get out." By being subjects of these impressive images that often show up in brochures and magazines promoting tourism in Cambodia, they reach all sorts of audiences. It's a way of leaving their village without having to physically do so.

Nathan explained that the villagers are most likely not yet turned off by visiting photographers because this is an area that doesn't see many tourists throughout the year (outside of the few he brings along during occasional weekend workshops). Kompong Chhnang has yet to be impacted by the tourist boom felt by the country since the early 2000's. Thus, there are only 2 guesthouses that are considered decent in this city.

I find it difficult, at times, to photograph human subjects without feeling like an intruder. An aspect I liked about Nathan's workshop was the emphasis on ethical practices and relationship-based work. In the past, I recall having questioned the line a photographer unintentionally crosses by wanting to capture someone else's personal pain or suffering and the exploitation of that person's private moment by including the images into a portfolio. I suppose a good photographer is one whom ultimately shares his/her work with the subject, as opposed to "owning" the credit, especially if success comes along as the result of their interaction.

Privacy is considered a luxury and not an option known by the members of this floating village. Most units are open to the fresh air, and the only walls that exist are those of the exterior that keep the people living behind them dry. When I think of the number of walls in the San Francisco apartment I share with my friend James, I laugh. If you think your family members know way too much about your personal life, think again.

Although I enjoyed the technical and field portions of the workshop, I didn't feel quite as confident with my SLR as I had hoped leaving his studio. There were times Nathan rushed through the topics of aperture and shutter speed that I wish he would have spent more time explaining, especially since the other two women and I had difficulty processing these and applying the information to our practice shots in Kompong Chhnang and Udong. Overall, the workshop was a good introduction to travel photography, but I wouldn't mind a more in-depth course that covers each feature of a typical SLR and allows more time to put instruction into practice.

I've decided to give myself an assignment. I will be creating a B&W photo journal of my time in Hong Kong next month. Being in these southeast Asian countries, I've had a tough time trying to communicate with some of the locals upon encounters. Because I don't speak the languages, I haven't had a real chance to connect and show compassion to my subjects. For example, I took a walk with my camera yesterday and came across this elderly man who had set up his barber shop right on the side of the road (no walls - just a large standing mirror, a seat for his client, and his tools on a wooden table). I so wanted to stop, say hello, and chat with him, and maybe if I was lucky to get a few shots of him working on his client. I didn't want to just smile, greet, and take close-up portraits without asking them whether they would mind my presence or not. It's moments like this that have made me realize I need to spend more time in HK. I do have the advantage of speaking Cantonese and would feel more comfortable approaching people there. It's less hit and run photography, to say it simplest.

I've had conversations with fellow travelers about how I think HK is lacking in recognizable culture. I don't think the SAR has been successful in retaining the Chinese culture it once may have had, back when my parents were growing up. When most foreigners think of HK, they think of it as a financial hub, a former fishing port, dim sum, good tailoring, another renegade province...these are all tell-tale HK, but really, what else is there? People go to Thailand for its cuisine, terrain, endless temples, tumultous history, laid-back Buddhist approach to life - it's even known as "the land of smiles." Vietnam easily summons images of conical hats on the heads of rice paddy field workers, steaming bowls of noodle soup, sensuality due to the sexual innuendos of foreign military presence in the past. I feel like HK has a lot to offer, but for those who don't live there, we have no idea. Because the island separated from the motherland (by choice), it has sacrificed some of the things that make it recognizably Chinese. Some of the traditional customs of the past were pushed aside to focus on economic progress and accommodate the international community living and working there. Until HK embraces its relationship with China (as opposed to just being tolerant), I don't think it will serve as a primary destination for travelers seeking more exotic and "cultural" experiences. My hope is that this personal project will allow me to see more sides to HK than I have in previous visits and be able to share with you what I see. It's coming home to a place that you don't know all that much about...

I realize that my previous posts have become a little heavy on the "do-gooder" and responsible tourism side of things. To lighten the mood, here's what else has been on my mind.....

1) T-shirts to be made before leaving Cambodia -

Per Nate's request:
No Honk Honk
No Sweep
No Want Coke or Skunk
No, (I'm) not Sylvester Stallone

For me:
No, not same same.
No, (I'm) not Japanese, Korean, Filipina, Thai, Cambodian. (I thought we Asians were able to tell each other apart!)
No have dollar for one flowah.
No Tuk Tuk.
No Motobike, Lady?!

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2) Question of the week: Why do Khmers walk around town in their pajamas all day?
Answer (according to Nathan Horton): They like things that match. Also, they like that pajama sets are so comfortable.

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3) Things I find amusing

- Miss Landmine Cambodia 2009 (Beauty Pageant): http://www.miss-landmine.org/cambodia

-Words of Mok Bunthoeun (2nd place Men's winner @ the Angkor Wat Half Marathon; also a tuk-tuk driver in Phnom Penh): “I am very happy. I have the mental strength to continue to run. I am tuk-tuk driver. I come to represent our nation." The 36-year-old admitted he couldn’t keep up with the Malaysian ahead of him, noting the lack of good training conditions in the Kingdom. “I trained by myself,” he stated. “He [Kien] is far younger than me, and he comes from Malaysia. Their nutrition is better.”

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4) Restaurants I would recommend:
- Restaurant My Kid (Vietnamese), near Sunday Guesthouse by the Olympic Stadium
- Foreign Correspondents Club aka FCC (order the Nhoam Krah (a filling salad of fresh, crunchy lotus root, thinly sliced bbq pork loin, little dried shrimps, red onions, crumbled peanuts, chives, and this amazing citrusy fish sauce vinagrette)

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5) Tips
-Don't exchange currency upon arrival. Everywhere you go will accept USD and some places will accept Thai Baht. You'll only lose money by exchanging due to the commission & service fees.
-If you don't have any large items on you, ride around on the back of a motobike at night, as opposed to taking a tuk-tuk. These are half the price (generally $1) and often get you to Point B in less time. Just hold on tight.
-Don't lose your cool after the 4000th time you've said "No, thank you" to the throngs of tuk-tuk drivers who approach you asking if you need their services. Yes, you will want to pull your hair out. Yes, you will want to scream, "Wouldn't I come to you if I needed a ride?!" Resist. These men are just trying to earn an honest living and because tourism has been hit due to the border conflicts with neighboring countries, business hasn't been so great these last few months.

I'll end this post with some pictures -

PEPY

Things happen sometimes. I believe, in most cases, they happen for a reason. Life is too short for what we might consider "coincidences."

Last night was to be my last night in Siem Reap. I was supposed to get on the 8:30 bus to head back down to Phnom Penh this morning. After being on a small boat on Tonle Sap Lake for a few hours to catch the sunset, my friend Nate and I went back into town to say hello to Sony and Tear, the two bartenders at The Warehouse we had met and chatted with the previous night. We ended up staying a little longer than intended because Sony was entertaining us with magic and card tricks and didn't mind sharing a little more about life in Cambodia. That's when a youngish-looking guy propped himself up on a stool on the opposite end of the bar, put down his motorbike helmet, and ordered himself a drink. After sharing a few jokes with Sony and Tear, he turns to us and says, "So where are you guys from?" I tell him San Francisco, and he tells us he's from Tennessee. We find out that he's only been working and living in Siem Reap for about two months. (Not yet a jaded ex-pat. Refreshing.) When I ask him who he works for, he says, "I work for PEPY." Are you kidding me?

Two years ago, an individual named Jonathan (whom worked for the same company that I did), introduced me to an organization called PEPY. We had been chatting about an event I was trying to fundraise for and about my interest in volunteer work in the Bay Area. He sent me the link to PEPY Ride and told me how a friend of his, this young woman from NY named Daniela Papi, attended Notre Dame University and left her home in the States to co-found and oversee the programs and initiatives implemented by PEPY. PEPY was one of the main reasons why I wanted to come to Cambodia. After having checked the PEPY site for bike tour dates and "voluntour" opportunities over the last two years, subscribed to their frequent newsletter on Facebook, corresponded with a Team Leader since having arrived in SE Asia, I had thought the time I had in Cambodia would not allow me to fully participate in a project. In fact, Eric Lewis, the TL I had kept in touch with had just informed me that the volunteer and tour package would be a challenge to set up as the time I have here is limited. I had been so disappointed, but figured it would be another reason to come back.

So, imagine my surprise when Tyler, the guy sitting next to us at The Warehouse, tells me he works for PEPY and that his roomate is Eric Lewis. Small world, eh?

He says he's going outside to make a phone call and comes back saying I need to stay another day. Daniela wants me to come into the PEPY office tomorrow to learn more about the organization and inquire about opportunities they might have where I could bring in applicable skills. I agree to nix the bus ticket already purchased and stay another day.

This morning, we take a tuk tuk to the PEPY house and HQ and are greeted by Tyler. We took a few minutes to meet the current interns and volunteers and be introduced to Daniela, who seemed to be pretty busy (justifiably). Daniela, Tyler, Eric, Nate, and I go into the meeting room to talk about their objectives, the programs they run, the bike and adventure tours they organize and lead throughout the year, and the communities they work with. The challenges surrounding infrastructure, governance, bureaucracy, and corruption are all mentioned. More and more, I hear the phrase "red tape" from bitter ex-pats jaded by the years they've lived here to the newbies who've only been here for a month or two. It's like Tyler said this morning, "It is what it is." (What's also unfortunate is when a little girl with three roses came up to Tyler last night and said, "Please one dollar, one dollar," he recognized her and told us, in the past, Daniela had approached the girl's parents to offer them help with placing her in a school. They rejected this as they felt that the act of selling roses all night to foreign tourists sitting in pubs was more lucrative then starting school at the age of 6 or 7.)

All of the PEPY interns, volunteers, and permanent staff live and work in the same three-story house on a very residential street. PEPY provides free accomodations to their teams while they work with the organization. You basically share a room with one or two other individuals and utilize the living space with all of your "co-workers." It's somewhat of a co-op or dorm situation, where you see these other people all the time. It makes for a dynamic group of very dedicated, ambitious, and lively staff. After sending emails to a few Salesforce friends Nate and I both have (PEPY needs technical/back-end support for the database management product they're using - if you know of someone who is planning to travel into Cambodia soon and wouldn't mind living for free training PEPY's staff and helping to customize the software to suit their needs, please shoot me an email!), we go out to lunch with the group, minus Daniela unfortunately.

Spending a few hours talking with them, taking a peek into what their day is like, and walking through their living quarters, I could see myself wanting to spend 6-8 months working with this organization and its surrounding communities. It's not a commitment that is lengthy enough to make you feel hesitant about staying, but it does offer you a chance to contribute your strengths and skills over a reasonable amount of time. Something Tyler mentioned last night is the notion that PEPY wants itself to be run by mainly Khmer staff at some point. The goal is not to provide solutions to these local communities. It's to teach these people to teach themselves and also to teach others. It needs to gradually become self-sustainable. That's why volunteers and interns stay for only 6-8 months. There are exceptions in which you could become part of the permanent staff (if there's a real need), but it doesn't happen often.

I told Daniela I would get back in touch with her next spring, especially if I see an opportunity that might make a great match and if there was still availability. With a grassroots approach and demand for a variety of talent, I'm sure PEPY gets bombarded with interested applicants. Who knows - maybe when Tyler takes off after his term, they will need another PR/media intern to help manage their social networking presence and newsletter following. That's something I could do, right?

The Re-Birth of Cinema in Cambodia?

Our last night in Phnom Penh, Wendy and I wanted to lay low and catch a flick after dinner. When we got back to Sunday Guest House, we asked the mother of the family that runs the place where we could catch a movie nearby.

"Oh. No movie in Cambodia." she said with a straight face. Thinking she may have misunderstood our question, we asked her again where we could find a "cinema." "No cinema here." she reinforced. We both had a hard time processing this. When we told Nate upon his arrival to Siem Reap, he informed me that it was my duty to get to the bottom of this.

Apparently, it's still in question whether there is an accessible movie theater in Cambodia's developing capital. There were two listed in a Phnom Penh newspaper I was looking through, but details regarding showtimes and titles were vague, if not non-existent. From what I gathered from an Asia Life Guide (the Nov. 2009 issue), since the strict rule of the Khmer Rouge, cinemas and theater houses that once served the public have since turned into large hotels and nightclubs. Because the majority of Cambodia's most talented producers, directors, actors, and writers were considered intellectuals, artists, and potential political opponents, they became victims of the planned executions that were carried out in the mid-late 70's. Approximately only 33 films were recovered out of the 350 that were made in this country.

It is a shame that, as of late, mainly B-style horror movies are being filmed and screened to Khmer audiences, if any audiences at all. (These films seem mostly popular with teenage audiences and aren't being widely distributed due to the poor quality of production and lack of plot development. This only re-inforces the ongoing closures of movie houses due to lack of financial support.) With the loss of quality filmmaking comes a hinderance to the cultural revolution that this country so needs. Not being a native nor resident here, I really don't have the information to make a one-sided argument for the need to initiate contemporary filmmaking nor criticize any country's situation regarding its accessibilty to fine arts and free media (especially when a country is facing so many other problems that should hold higher priority). To know that an activity I have always enjoyed and felt a beneficiary of is not even offered in Cambodia at this time makes me hope that things will be different over the next few years - that the younger Khmer generation will acknowledge the fact that creative arts can provide opportunities, not just in terms of careers, but in terms of uprising a cultural revolution. For a country that cannot forget its dark past (as its people are still suffering old wounds in the present), looking ahead to prospective industries in the arts can provide new direction to partial recovery. I'm a big believer in baby steps.

Until the Khmer people can once again demonstrate pride in work that is theirs to own and the country can efficiently market what it has to offer, Cambodia is going to remain challenged and viewed as unprepared to economically compete with its neighbors. Several of the nation's former leaders responsible for participation in the genocides are now (still) being tried for crimes committed decades ago. The news offers constant reminders that justice has not been served. With justice might come a peace of mind for survivors and the families of those who suffered, however, improvements for the future must be the current focus. Renewed interest in the arts and education, as well as improvements in basic infrastructure, must become investments in the years to come.

Cambodia is a beautiful country, and if you can get past the tragedy and try to understand what is needed to help build a steady future, you will appreciate it for all that it is worth and want to come back.

Siem Reap

So I've decided to stay in Siem Reap until Saturday. Taking a bus back down to Phnom Penh to attend an all-day photography workshop on Sunday with Nathan Horton, a conscientious travel photographer from London. I read a number of positive reviews on his instruction style and hands-on weekend field trips, so the workshop should be a great way to spend some more time getting to know Cambodia, outside of it's major cities.

I haven't posted any pictures in a while, since Koh Tao actually. Blogger takes a long time to upload (only 5 images at once), so I haven't really found the time to do much on here besides write. I'm trying to be better about that.

Words don't do justice to the awe of Angkor Wat, its surrounding ruins, and the humbling and serene countryside we were able to bike through yesterday. I hope you enjoy the following images...