Aziza Schoolhouse
The biggest news is the school we have started, or re-started. It's a free English school in the slum, just down the alley from the Center, and we have fixed it up so it is very cute and provides a good learning environment. Attendance has been great, and all 6 daily classes, 9 hours of training, are well attended by our 120 students…  The only criteria to attend is that you live in the ‘hood, and all students are provided books and notebooks. The 3 teachers we’ve hired are top-notch Khmer’s, and take their jobs seriously (but make class fun). The rent is $30 per month, electric is $30, the teachers about $350, cleaning $10, and there are various other small expenses for things like books and supplies (in total about $440 per month). The classroom will likely also be used as a community center to help the residents organize and represent themselves well in preparation for the looming mass-eviction of the neighborhood (my guess is around December).  I’ve had the good fortune to find the best teacher in Cambodia, Sokchea. He is also the manager, and is very effective in managing students to keep the class on track, as well as coaching the other teachers on this important topic. His trademark is that he is LOUD, and his voice booms out of the classroom commanding attention from all of the children who love and admire him. Unfortunately he does regularly lose his voice. He does everything and anything to make it all work and doesn't charge for all the extra time he puts in. He stresses punctuality in a land where nothing could be more foreign. In addition to 5 teaching hours at our school, he has another job teaching 2 hours. Phana (female) and Chay (male) are new but already have shown admirable traits in addition to being great teachers and speaking great English. The teachers all make $1.50 per hour. Incidentally, Sokchea and his friend were recently robbed at gunpoint in front of his friend's house, just for their cell phones. It was 10:30 am when 2 motorbikes pulled up on each side of them, the passengers holding guns. The school feels like the best achievement of my life to date. When I arrive at the classroom, and there are 20 students completely focused, reciting words and phrases in unison, developing their minds, I feel great pride. Whatever will happen from here is beyond guessing. There is already at least 1 villain, a boy who stops by during class, high on drugs, causing commotion and concern for Sokchea. There’s also a character, Pear, that sleeps in the back, along with his brother, without my permission, but they seem to be benign, and hopefully watch out for the school. I have only visited the night classes a few times, since I don’t spend much time in the slum after dark. Sokchea said the students really wanted to meet me, so I went down and spoke to the class. They made me feel like I really mattered to them. They are all so grateful, and their words of appreciation moved me deeply. They did a standing thank you, and I told them they were welcome, but it was you, my friends, who were providing all this. Learning English here is different than for people from many other countries, since the Khmer language is really limited with respect to things like the Internet/computers, medication labels, and being able to evolve into a modern economy. I would like to write pages about all the positive aspects of the school and what it seems to be providing the community; maybe later, but here’s one for now. A 16 year old boy, Vibol, has been attending all of the classes, every day. I don’t spend much time at the school, but Sokchea went out of his way to tell me about Vibol, that he is clever, and really wants to learn. He told me that his father is always drunk, and he lives right across the alley from the school. His house is barely adequate for a chicken coup by our standards, and a family of 6 live there, including his blind uncle who plays a violin-like instrument quite beautifully. His family is so poor that he had to drop out of school recently at grade 6, since the schools are corrupt and students have to pay.  I remembered how being a teenager sucks in many ways, and felt his pain. He’s coming to school to get away from home, in part, I imagine. He’s shy and not particularly tough for that neighborhood. I sought out ideas from my community here, and just signed him up for a half-day English program at a private school ($8 per month), and loaned him a bike ($22) to get to school. I will try to find other options for him, such as a job-training program.
Stories From Cambodia - A Land of Sensory Overload
  Everyday I see children living in ways that no human should have to endure. I know about things that shouldn’t happen but do, and things that should happen but don’t. I think of the injustice, the challenges to helping them, the inequality to everything about my life verses theirs, the mounting problems I can’t fix; the disease that is spreading from one child to the next, their beautiful faces, their playful souls, their emotional needs that I can’t even scratch the surface in fulfilling, and the impossible task of ever saying good-bye. I only recently thought of eventually saying goodbye - I simply can only see myself in hysterics looking at a line of faces, even the adults who are so hardened. The solutions to their problems are so far off. They are destined to untold suffering for their lives, to creating more problems in their children’s lives, and I could never be so idealistic as to think I can change all of that. There will be successes, and I can feel pride from these, but I know there are many barriers and overcoming them will be too slow, and in time, some of their lives will be quite sad. As Christian working in the area said, “there are always more problems than we can fix.” Scandal, corruption, vices and sad realities are everywhere, including with the ex-pat population here. An American on trial for pedophilia let it be known that he had contributed a large amount of money for good causes during his time in Cambodia. It seemed his only defense. His pathetic statement really made me think. Recently I was pulled over on my motorbike for the 5th time. Each incident of getting pulled over has been crazy, kind of fun, and every time the fines have been settled on the spot. To date, I have shelled out $9 for my lack of adherence to the traffic laws (it was supposed to be $8 but the cop shortchanged me once). On the last stop, the officers didn’t speak English, unlike all the previous stops. I had a boy on the back from the Center, Loun Ngoun, who has an outright sickly appearance.* The cops were forced to talk to him, and he explained that he is sick and I was taking him to the hospital. They let me go, despite my blatant breaking of the law. * Loun Ngoun is 16 and is very weak, constantly tired, skinny, and has a persistent cough. He was on his way to get some blood work, which came back negative on all accounts. We are chalking it up to anemia/malnutrition, and I got him some supplements. I’ll try to feed him some as well, and hope for the best. Some random stories: Of all of the bizarre things I’ve experienced since arriving in Cambodia, my mom coming to visit is up there with the best of them. At 64 she had never left N. America, so to my family and me, it just didn’t seem possible that she would come here. She came, had a great trip (though she didn’t like the kids playing with her excess skin on her elbows), and will hopefully come again soon. Me, my mom, and her friend Sandra all went to Angkor Wat, which was amazing. One day I noticed a child with a band of human hair tied tightly on his finger, which I could see was covering a cut. I’ve begun pulling out my first aid kit regularly, so I called the kid into the bathroom, and with Chin’s assistance got him to take off the improvised bandage. As always, there was a large crowd of kids. It immediately began gushing blood, and the kid was screaming. We ran some water and soap over it, and squirted iodine into the deep gash, but the kid was hysterical and it was a challenge to get him to stick around until I got a band-aid onto him. He was a kid from the neighborhood and ran away from me like I was the devil. I wasn’t sure if I made the right decision to try to help him. I asked his friend to deliver some band-aids to his house. I’m sure there’s a great analogy here, something involving looking below the surface (or not)… I just saw him after weeks and his fingered healed well. Across the street from the Center was a community that was even poorer, which was mind-boggling. They have recently been evicted, forcibly (after the riot), and have been dumped into a field outside of town, where they have no services, income, or food, but many [often sickly] children. The village where the Center and schoolhouse are will be moved soon as well. The protests are beginning, and some hope that the government will look out for it’s people still exists. I am studying Khmer, and can put together some phrases that often are understood! The rainy season has begun. The monsoon rains are a sight to see, and cause all the streets to flood. Everyone here seems to like it when it rains, and often take in a shower under a downspout. It is still often hot, but much cooler than March – May. I do sometimes feel sorry for myself for having to deal with the slow Internet connection speed here. And now, some incomplete stories, which I may never take the time to write fully, but here is what I got: Disease of the week – scabies. It’s a heinous mite that lives on your skin and clothes, causing pussy sores that are highly contagious. I met a little young girl who’s mother tried to abort her (her adopted mom told me), first by drinking too much alcohol, then using red ants and honey (where did she put the red ants and honey, you might wonder?). The beautiful girl is emotionally challenged, but physically fine and in great hands. A pregnant woman, Sitha, asked me for money. She really needed it for food, but I had to say no, mostly, and will always remember her looking me in the eyes, scared for her and her baby. An older boy, “Lucky,” was bit on the foot 3 times in 2 weeks by rats while sleeping. My translator, Chin, comes from a family of poor rice farmers (as are most people in Cambodia), and recently had 3 chickens and 2 cows die. His brother lives directly above the chickens, with just a bamboo floor separating him from the foul. We spoke to someone from the Pasteur Institute here and they said it was not likely Bird Flu, since all of the chickens didn’t die. See pictures from my visit there. I saw the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen, and hope nothing ever tops it. Begging by the waterfront of the Mekong River, was a family with a baby with a head that was swelling from spinal fluid not draining properly. The 1 or 2 year-old looked unnatural, to the point that if a sci-fi movie replicated it, viewers would think it was really fake looking. I estimate the head was 20 inches in diameter. I was paralyzed by the sight, and immediately began to pray. Some university English-majors have formed a club, “A to Inspire,” and have come to the Center as volunteers to lead trainings. It is inspiring, and I hope to work with them more. A bat flew into a restaurant where I was eating one night, and the staff casually chased and trapped it, then took it outside. I went with one of the staff from the Center, Ta, to see the breaker that was causing the electrical failures. We entered an apartment in a dilapidated building where a family lived, and electric meters and breakers were attached a piece of wood at the end of a bed, where a topless, 80 year old woman was waiting to die. I was told she hadn’t left her bed for 2 years. A friend told me how his Khmer colleague returned to work after lunch one day, and was distraught because he had just killed a man on a motorbike with his car, and had to pay $500 to the family, which he didn’t have. I watched a drunken man get beat by 2 women (one at a time). We took kids to the mall for pizza, and afterward, out on the street, they ate fried bugs for dessert. My friend Isaac had a recent encounter that is better than any story so far in my life (ask me to tell you someday). People here do jobs that the rats and ants do in your country. I often watch the people process the garbage from my apartment. The stories in the paper are amazing; land mines kill people regularly, sometimes carloads, a recent prison riot (where they buried all of the casualties in the prison yard) should be worthy of a movie script, people are constantly hacked with machetes and hatchets, jealous wives attack mistresses with acid to the face, which literally melts the skin, mass evictions, constant violations of human rights by the police and military… The legal trials of the Khmer Rouge leaders are about to start. Ta Mok, AKA “The Butcher,” a suspected Khmer Rouge military chief died of TB after years in prison, just weeks before his trial and possible valuable testimony. Top 10 things I am grateful for; 10. Don’t have TB, AIDS, Malaria, Typhoid, Dengue Fever… 9. Never lived in a Khmer Rouge or refugee camp 8. Eat protein with every meal 7. Don’t have lice or scabies 6. Didn’t lose any family to war in my lifetime 5. Drink clean water 4. I’m literate 3. Have all my teeth 2. I didn’t get in a motorbike accident today1. My great apartment
Project Updates - July 2006
 I continue working daily with the kids at the Center, supporting them with English school (mostly at a private schools, though some go to Aziza Schoolhouse which is just down the alley), medical and dental needs, as well as small projects and supplies for the community, including working to improve the hygiene on the structural level and with the kids personally. Good moments are constant (bad moments are only consistent). Two 16 year old girls, Syremom and Syremom, are now engaged in long days, 6 days per week, at a vocational school, CCF (www.cambodianchildrensfund.org), where they learn academics and job skills to work in a beauty salon (their passion). “Syremom 1” might have been the captain of the cheerleading squad if such a things existed here, and if she would have been able to stay in school. My partner-in-chaos, Nader, made a connection and got them into the school, and now they return back to the Center with an obvious sense of pride. They stand tall, and have hopes for a future that might not have existed otherwise. At first their attendance was unacceptable, but for the past 6 weeks I have been giving them $10 per week to take a moto-taxi (moped), and they haven't missed a day since. It is a pretty long ride and the 2 of them share the moto, each sitting sideways behind the driver (facing opposite directions). With no small amount of effort, we were able to get a boy to go off with an NGO, Hagar ( www.hagarproject.org), and build a water filter for the Center. For weeks it seemed like the project would fail, but with an additional training from Hagar staff, the community began to see the value of clean water, and has been using it consistently. The “we” I use in my stories has referred to all of the donors and supporters who make everything here happen. “We” also refers to the team we are now; Sokchea the original school teacher and manager, who has changed everything by taking the school to new levels, Phana and Chay, who are the new teachers and have already accomplished much (washing hands and brushing teeth before class!), Chin, my (paid) intern, who is an excellent translator and much more, as well as Nader. Huge contributions have been made by other volunteers who were gracious enough to work with us and continue what I either neglected or never got to, namely; Prishila, the exotic S African-Indian living in London, who came for a month and worked diligently, bringing with her a budget to finance the projects (more on her accomplishments coming). She has stories and pictures on her blog: http://enigma147.blogspot.comNancy, a Colorado girl friend-of-a-friend, who in a short time made some beautiful work with her paint brushes that make the school a place that rings of inspiration. Her blog: http://www.ballofdirt.com/entries/11657/154101.htmlMichele Novik, and her sidekick Stephanie, who came for 3 weeks and did so much, also financing her great projects. http://trip2cambo.blogspot.com/Prishila and Michele never met, but some of their projects overlapped and include the Locker Project, so all the kids now have a metal locker and lock for their things. Until now, they had nowhere to put their things – just piled them on the floor. Kids were taken to the dentist; I’d guess about 35 teeth have been pulled so far, getting kids to the doctor (for everything from scabies to rabies), turning a barefoot football (soccer) group into a fully uniformed team, a sink and counter in the kitchen, outfitting the classroom, kitchen, parties, and too many things to list. There were some also some laid back Irish folk; Katharine, Isabel, and Mickey, who did some cool stuff, including creating a dining area with tables, and a spreadsheet of all of the kids. Lastly is a new volunteer who has real skills for these communities, Carly, who is undertaking hygiene (teeth-brushing) and nutrition training. A friend of a friend, Sherry, came to visit. She is a particularly talented writer, and has posted some great pictures; http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Cambodia/Phnom-Penh/blog-58844.html (genius I would say – check out all of her stuff). Not everything works, and I have recently adopted the motto “I welcome failure,” because I feel it is my job to give kids a chance. I now realize that by coming here to face the sadness, I have to face my anger, because behind many sad stories are real villains, people who inflict suffering onto others, people who’s hearts are black. The world will take a long time to fix. I have now lived these categories of emotion, and they have become a part of me. There is plenty of emotion on the other side as well, since people are so damn funny. There are many characters here; amusing, entertaining, eccentric, often backward and rough. When a story unfolds that might be worth telling, the characters involved catapult the intensity of the humor into absurdity. I will send the financial update to all the donors sometime soon. The project has already succeeded, and if I leave tomorrow, many kids are a little better off. I imagine this has been the case all along with out having to say it, but I do want to ask that if you choose to give, make sure it really feels right for you. I am a conduit between your good-will and the kids here, and while it may sound a bit ‘out-there,’ the energy of this project is incredibly important. My plans are as yet undetermined, but I will likely stay until the slum where the school and the Center are located is moved (I read they will build a mall there), when I will evaluate if I still want to be involved and if it looks like I can make a difference. I am guessing the move will happen around the end of the year. The relocation site will be far out of town, which poses many challenges. We are looking at making resources available for kids who get left out of the next plan. Thank you all!
|
