Svay Rieng to Phnom Penh Again

Well, I'm back from Svay Rieng and starting my fourth week at work. Note on Svay Rieng: The scenery - beautiful. The mosquitos - unforgiving. The workshops - unrelenting. On our way there and back we took a ferry over the Mekong and traveled through Neak Leoung, which is a city bombed by the U.S. military by mistake during the Khmer Rouge regime. What else can I say except that I learned a lot about Khmer culture, how NOT to interact with Khmer men (constructive criticism is never taken as constructive), and that I had an incredibly emotional experience in a shelter (almost broke down in tears multiple times, but the worst was when they kept saying they missed their mommies and that they didn't want us to go--we're trying to arrange a follow-up).

Things that I will not miss about Svay Rieng: (1) that damned rooster (2) shack karaoke (that is, karaoke in a tiny, tin roofed shack by a lake right outside my hotel room) until 5:30 in the morning, interrupted with a 1/2 hour break, and then starting all over again at 6 a.m. (3) creepy military guys who were also staying at the same hotel. . . seriously? stop staring at me.

I have finally moved into my apartment which is right near the Olympic Stadium, and took my first trip to the Olympic Market, which, may I say, was incredibly claustrophobic. I definitely got charged multiple SFFs, but as we all know--I'm not so good at the bargaining. On my way back from the market I ate at a restaurant less than a block away from my apartment that I suspect may double as a brothel at night. That, combined with the fact that a lot of the workers looked WAY underage, means that I most likely won't be going back.

My apartment is an area that is definitely outside the range of baraangs (Westerners), and therefore, places that cater to English speakers. The building owners, and woman who works at the vendor's stall downstairs keep talking to me as if I know what they're saying (which I should!). I do a lot of nodding and smiling and "min yul dtee"-ing ("I don't understand"-ing). At least I can communicate enough with the moto drivers to get to and from work (which is an accomplishment of which I am extremely proud).

Additional Awesome People:

• The 77 year old man, A., who overshared about his gastrointestinal distress and is traveling by himself throughout Asia. Met him at the guesthouse before I checked out. He's already spent a month in Thailand and a month in Cambodia. This is to be followed by a month in Laos and Vietnam each and three months in China. If I'm ever in Granada, I have a place to stay.
• The keynote speaker at the workshop who answered his phone during his opening speech and took a 7 minute call over the microphone.

Interesting Food Finds:

• Dragon Fruit - The outside is pink and it looks like a flower, the inside is white and has little black seeds (like a kiwi). Can't really describe the taste, but it's good and not too strong.
• Sour Soup - Self-explanatory. Similar is fermented lemon soup which is actually pretty chnaang chnaang (tasty tasty).

PEACE

p.s. I met a friend of Bill at the guesthouse!

The Awesome and the Mighty

Hey folks, one last blog before I head out today to Svay Rieng (province/town bordering Vietnam) for 3 days of fun-filled workshops (no email for approximately 4 days). But you're not here to read about my work-- or are you? I suspect some of you might be waiting to hear about all of the fantastically awesome people that I'm meeting on my journey (or maybe not--despite all of my claims to greatness, I'm not actually a mind reader). Well, to appease you, let me tell you a little tale about the two guys who work at the guesthouse with whom I am completely and madly in love (not like that--get your minds out of the gutter you dirty rascals).

Let us, for the time being, call them S. and R. S. mainly works in the restaurant downstairs, is 25 (although he looks 20--everyone here looks younger than they are), and is beautiful. I am in love with S. simply because he is the sweetest person alive--ever. Every morning he politely asks me what I would like to eat for breakfast, all serious like, and when I invariably order french bread with cheese and coffee milk, he shoots me a smile that could light up Vegas in a blackout (apologies, that was a horrible metaphor, I will never do it again). He never hovers (unlike a certain individual, V.) and compliments me on my Khmer, which I guiltlessly practice on all of the workers at the guesthouse. Now. As I'm sure you have guessed, and as I have previously stated, my Khmer is terrible and frightening and awkward (really haven't been practicing as much as I should b/c I've been so busy). Lesson learned? Apparently the way to Rosie's heart is through a pretty smile, flattery, and shameless lies.

R. is also beautiful, enjoys drinking Coca Cola, and is either from Kampong Chaang or Kampong Cham (to my ear, they both sound exactly freaking alike when spoken). R.'s awesomeness lies in the fact that he too is sweet, serious, and polite. R. and I spent a magical evening on the upstairs balcony having the most awkward (and magnificent) language lesson of my life. This lesson basically began by pointing to stuff, saying it in our native language and then asking the other to say it in their native tongue--everything learned was promptly forgotten because I was too caught up in the utter coolness of it all. And then, all excited like, I scampered (yes, I've been known to scamper on occasion) down to my room to get my "Cambodian for Beginners" book (like the nerd I truly am), and we went through the first 2 lessons, letting eachother know when certain words or phrases were "same same." That was, by far, the best night I've had since I've been here.

And for all of you social work fans out there, the list of fantastically awesome people I've met since I've been here would not be complete without my supervisor and program advisor. My supervisor is the epitome of a social worker, all righteous indignation one minute and all diplomacy the next--but never stopping the fight for what she believes in. And what she believes in is the client. When I grow up, I want to be her. My program advisor is this really caring (yet secretly crafty) woman who was the first to start showing me the ropes at work. Incredibly maternal (get this, she's worried that I'm not eating enough), yet she still possesses the ability to strike fear in your heart. I am truly luck to be working with them both.

Honorable Mention for Awesomeness
The British woman I met at the guesthouse who is traveling throughout the region . . . she used to volunteer in Kazakstan, working in the field of disability.

Sigh. I am so grateful to be here.

PEACE

Life Update

Have almost definitely found an apartment. Get this, $300 for a newly renovated two floors, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a big ass wrap around balcony. Oh yeah, and they're going to furnish it for me. Plus I'm in the middle of a massive fruit market by the Olympic Stadium, with a bigger market just down the street. AND I get my very own security guard. (Granted, he's a 12 year old boy from the very nice Chinese Cambodian family upstairs and not technically a security guard, but he told me, with a completely straight face, that he would walk me up if I get in late at night.) AND I got some free fruit out of the deal. Awesome.

On a less awesome note, I went to visit my first shelter for trafficking and sexual abuse victims on Tuesday. While I knew not to expect anything comparable to that of shelters in developed nations (which aren't always superb either), I wasn't prepared for what I learned. This shelter, one of the better ones in the city, was very clean, with a beautiful garden, and good security (they almost didn't let us in even though we had an appointment, which I think is such a good thing). Having said that however, I was dismayed to learn that "counseling" and "therapy" in Cambodia actually refers most often to asking the clients whether they want to learn weaving or sewing. Sometimes this counseling will include telling clients what they should do with their lives . . . but there is ABSOLUTELY NO WORK done with clients regarding their trauma. This is a country-wide phenomenon in all shelters here. With more severe cases of mental illness, clients are sent to psychiatrists, where they receive meds, but nothing else (although this happens in the U.S. too, it still gets to me). There's a lot more that I wish I could say but cannot. All in all, the lesson learned is that even when you know something is going to be bad, it doesn't fully prepare you for the experience. I realize, now more than ever, how much work is needed.

DID YOU KNOW:
1) A lot of people here celebrate three new years? International, Chinese, and Cambodian (which is in April)
2) The lunch break here is 2 hours long (at my agency it's 1 1/2 hr). A lot of people go home, and some apparently bring cots to work so they can take a nap during the lunch break.
3) There are more Vietnamese, Chinese, and Thai than Khmer restaurants in Phnom Penh.

Sorry for the incredibly random post with complete disregard for grammar . . . but you'll take what you get . . . and you'll like it.

PEACE
rosie

My very first moto ride and other touristy things

I didn't fall off! (Or soil myself, as originally predicted). Moto rides are actually pretty awesome, although I do think I'll invest in a helmut given Cambodian drivers utter disregard for traffic lanes, on-coming vehicles, and their propensity for driving against traffic. And oh yeah, traffic signals don't mean much here either--whoever said red means stop and green means go was obviously not from Phnom Penh.

Yesterday I ventured out to the National Museum and the Royal Palace. Saw a lot of sculptures at the National Museum, mostly influenced by Hindu and Buddhist religion. Most of the sculptures were damaged however; thank you Khmer Rouge. The Royal Palace is gigantic, set within a walled off compound, well over a city block in size. I should have taken more time to explore it, but at that point in the day, I was sweating balls and ready to return to the guesthouse. While at the Palace, I did check out the big spots, including the throne room (massive) and the Silver Pagoda (the floor of which is laid entirely with silver tiles, although most are covered up) which houses an emerald Buddha. Poked around a bit more and found a small temple atop a little hill surrounded by a grove--guarded by monkeys and lions.

Also, two leads on apartments--one in my price range, but in not such a great area, one outside my price range, but in a good area. Considering some of the horror stories I heard on my first day at work, I might go for the good area option, since getting surgery in Bangkok will be more expensive and I am currently privileged to have full mobility in both arms.

Further update--Hooray for not getting malaria, japanese encephalitis, or dengue fever yet. Although when a kitten jumped on my lap at dinner, my mind immediately went to the fact that I neglected to get my rabies shot. Oh well, I just won't feed the monkeys.

LESSONS LEARNED aka STUPID FOREIGNER FEES (SFF)

1) When entering Cambodia, do not take the immigration officer up on his offer to get your visa extended immediately. It is expensive (gotta love corruption) and even though he says he'll drop your passport and visa off at the guesthouse--he won't know where it is. (Found out at work the next day that NGOs get visas for free).

2) When negotiating a price for a moto ride, make sure you know your Cambodian numbers. The driver started off with $1, and I, adept bargain hunter that I am, countered with "bpram bpoan rial", which to my delight he readily accepted. "Bpram bpoan rial" is actually equivalent to $1.25. I am the awesomest bargainer ever.

LESSONS CONFIRMED

1) Older Asian women do not like me. I blame the eyebrow ring and my poor grasp of the Khmer language.

That's all for now,
PEACE

P.S. Cultural imperialism anyone? Shorty got low low low low at the National Museum Coffee Shop.

And I'm here

Alrighty. After 3 days of unexpected travel delays (thank you very much Amerian Airlines), including two nights in Los Angeles and one night in Taipei, I have finally arrived, checked into my guesthouse and successfully spent my first night in Phnom Penh. The Sunday Guesthouse is a fantastic place to stay, with internet, a restaurant, and a very helpful owner who speaks English (thank god). I had my first Cambodian meal, noodles with vegetables, and it was fantastic. So far, no elephant or monkey sightings (I know, I'm disappointed too), but I did see several palm trees.

The next challenge for old Rosie Lang is to find the office building where I will be working (which I just attempted unsuccessfully after walking around for a half an hour). Never fear, it will happen.

Anyway, just wanted to check in, and now I'm going to check out and find this danged practicum site. Wish me luck, I'll need it.

And away I go

Anticipation. Nervousness. Excitement. Words that do not begin to describe my state of mind as I prepare to spend my last night at home. I fly out tomorrow evening, and yet I do not believe that the enormity of the situation has fully hit. There is the comprehension that, yes, in fact, I am leaving the country, and yes, I am going to a place where I do not necessarily speak the language. But 6 months? No, my friends, that little detail has yet to fully sink in.

I know the title of this blog is a little boring, but don't you fret, I'll have a full day of travel time to think of a new one (and to listen to each of my Khmer language CDs at least 10 times a piece)--but just in case I get title-block, any suggestions? Thank you to all of my family and friends, I could never have gotten to where I am today without you all. Sappy? Why yes I am. I love you (that's right, I said it) and will miss you terribly--terribly I say! Send out some good vibes to the universe and I'll see you soon.

PEACE