My mum asked me yesterday, ¨are you enjoying your trip?¨ I certainly have a purpose for being here, but it certainly isn´t to enjoy. Having been to Cambodia in a previous life as a tour leader, I have seen the main tourist sites many times. I´ve enjoyed myself – hanging out in the hammocks at my favourite sunset bar, helping the locals plant rice, celebrating birthdays, house warmings and weddings, eating too much (do I count tarantulas and crickets as enjoyable), drawing with the children, laughing. But this time I am seeing a side of Cambodia that as a tourist, you never have the opportunity to experience. Why would you seek out the slums, brothels, walk the streets at night and visit communes exuding levels of extreme poverty from every square inch.
The landscape on this trip is not so much the palaces, the temples, the wats or the countryside. Instead, it is an emotional landscape that has taken me on my own journey of reflection, appreciation, sadness, pride and joy. I have come to appreciate how, no matter how bad things can get in one´s life, that as human beings, we are strong. We can survive. And there will be opportunities presented to us that we can grab with both hands and create change in our lives.
Anyone who knows me, knows that I embrace life, and understands that I certainly don´t intend on living an idle life. There is too much to learn. Too much to experience. Life is a whole, it is a privilege and it provides us with a unique opportunity to find purpose.
I certainly haven´t always been like this. Infact, quite the opposite. However, I have travelled through a transition period and feel I am finally coming out the other side. I have been thinking about how I have changed, and I believe it is simply that I have taken responsibility for my life. The biggest opponent I have faced in the past has certainly been myself, but I now feel that I am no longer taking the corner option, but going into the ring with the fists ready to fight and to embrace whatever punches are thrown.
To others, I probably have an irrational level of optimism. I lack ordinary resentments and regrets – they waste too much time. There is no point in thinking that change cannot occur, for even in worst case scenarios – there is hope. Even here, in the depths of no hope, there is potential, there are gloves. I have seen it in the slums, the brothels, the communes.
Take Salin. At 19, she is the head of her family supporting her grandmother and four brothers – 19, 14, 12 and 5. Both of her parents have died with Aids, leaving Salin with the responsibilities of income earner, cook, educator, gardener and head of her family. I first met Salin when visiting Chupvary, a remote village in north-west Cambodia. She has been embraced by the Hope Project and provided with an opportunity to learn sewing skills and be a part of a project providing uniforms to a number of schools in Phnom Penh. After a full day sewing, Salin heads home to prepare the dinner, work in the garden and care for her brothers and grandmother. Prior to being involved with the Hope Project, there was little hope and no opportunity for Salin. But now there are smiles. This is not about pity. This is about positive change and the provision of opportunity.
Salin´s story is not unique. Everyone here has a story – the Khmer Rouge ensured that the majority of families have a legacy of loss and hardship. But as I walk around this new landscape, I can see the gloves coming out. I can see the hard work, the desire to win and the heads held high when the victory is theirs.
For the organisations providing the gloves, their´s is a continual battle to educate, both foreigners and locals, about choices as much as it is about providing opportunity. A mother will earn more sending out her child to beg or sell books to the tourists than if she learned a new skill and sold the end product. Try and convince a mother to send her child to school and learn how to make handbags herself when double can be made with the child on the streets, all night. But what will happen when the child grows up? No more pity from the foreigners. No more income. And the cycle will begin again.
No mum. This trip hasn´t been enjoyable. But it has been a remarkable journey and I can´t wait to hear about the next bout as I experience a night on the streets speaking with the children and hearing about what they want and how we can help, like Salin, in providing them some gloves so that they can go into their future with their own fists, ready to fight.
There’s a book about Cambodia — maybe you’ve read it — called “The Gods Drink Whiskey.” Even though you’re very familiar with Cambodia, I think you might enjoy it. I wrote a review of it here:
http://mmtriplog.wordpress.com/2008/08/22/book-review-the-gods-drink-whiskey/
On my blog about traveling in SE Asia.
I acknowledge you for the courage and eloquence with which you write – speaking the truth about what you see be it harsh, beautiful or otherwise. There is certainly nothing more powerful than the words you speak and the intention behind them. Thank you for sharing the experience of the people you meet ‘through their eyes’ and helping me to understand their stories. Its incredibly moving.
Keep being brave and strong