Rags alongside Riches

Probably my main impression of Phnom Penh, during my first few weeks here, is that there is absolutely no zoning. It was really overwhelming for me to see glitz and modernity alongside utter poverty. (My neighborhood, which recently exploded with new development, is somewhat more extreme than in other areas.) To illustrate this idea, let me show you my daily walk to school.

Every morning around 7, I leave my pink building and make the brief 5-minute trek to Logos.

I pass a small car wash filled with young guys and my small friends Bara and Pei, then this bar/cafe where the workers sleep on the tables inside the mosquito nets.

So what if this Internet cafe probably runs rampant with computer viruses, if its computers' speakers never seem to work, or if the Internet is slow at best and sometimes out completely? I love the colors and the family who runs it. (They taught me my first number in Khmer: muy poan, meaning 1000. 1000 riel or 25 cents is the price of an hour there.) And you can't beat the location, at least not unless my laptop is picking up free wi-fi in my apartment, as it is tonight.

Psar Toul Kork, the market in my neighborhood, is conveniently located at a 30-second walk from my front door. It's well-stocked with cheap plastic stuff (including kitchenware and cleaning supplies), cheap clothes, and produce. It's also home to about 12 different hairstylists. For under $4, I left with a rug, 20 clothes hangers, carrots, beans, and a spray bottle. Three of the hangers have since broken. The greatest thing about it is that it's a landmark known by every moto/tuk tuk driver, meaning they can bring me home from downtown with no problem.

Barely a block from my house is the worst housing I've seen so far: a line of wooden buildings that always seem about to collapse, backing up to a field full of trash.

The front of the recycling center, which makes it sound fancy and official, but which is really just a big dilapidated building with some extra pieces and a bunch of people hanging out with recycled materials. Notice the red sign and the ivory fence in the back left: the side of the hospital adjoins the recycling place.

The middle worker at the recycling center sports typical Cambodian accessories: a wide-brimmed hat wrapped in a krama, a multipurpose scarf that gets a lot of mileage here.

I guess recycled cardboard is a thriving industry here; people walk around every morning carrying wagons and squeaking a rubber horn so that everyone knows to come outside and hand over their recyclables, which end up on big trucks like this one.

It looks like a mansion. It's actually just a real estate office. It's about 100 yards, maybe, from the recycling center.

Reminders of Cambodia's Buddhist majority are everywhere: usually some kind of gold house like this, where people can leave offerings for their ancestors.

This hospital is spiffy and brand-new. But apparently the quality is pretty low for anything significant. This is true across the board in Cambodia; for anything bigger than a straightforward broken bone, you really need to leave the country to get adequate
medical care.

My walk ends at Logos, whose pleasant airy courtyard is usually filled with children and teens in blue, maroon, and white collared shirts. This is my building, with the principal's wife and daughter leaving the main office.

Dinner at Sovannary's

Left to right: Sarah, me, Danielle, Lorissa

So when I left for Cambodia, I thought that I would get a house helper to prepare meals for me, because that's what all the Westerners seem to do. (Western groceries are expensive, Khmer groceries are hard to cook with if you're inexperienced, and getting food cooked for you can be really cheap. Plus it helps the local economy.) However, house helpers can get complicated. They want a full-time job, and might expect you to pay their medical bills, buy them a new moto when theirs breaks down, etc. Some are also dishonest and take money if you carelessly leave it lying around. Sarah and I still might hire a girl she met to clean our house a few hours a week, since she's really desperate for a job in order to continue paying for college.

For meals, though, we followed a friend's advice and headed to Slek Chheur, a small restaurant a few doors down from us. It's run by the lovely Sovannary, a former Logos cook who can make anything, from pad thai to potato soup, taste amazing. So, for $1.50 a night each, Sarah and I have been enjoying her delicious meals every weeknight, on a monthly menu rotation. Lorissa and Danielle do the same thing, and it's so nice to hang out with them and chat with Sovannary. (Plus she's installing wi fi and adding a ping-pong table and a DVD player!)

Suzanne joined us for the first time last night, sampling the marvelous banana smoothies (Cambodia's superior bananas => superior banana smoothies), and took our picture for us. She's excellent about documentation!

Things I've seen atop a moving moto

Motos here are the major mode of transportation. Until a few years ago, it was bicycles, but recently the moto population has exponentially increased. Cars, virtually nonexistent even in ’06 or ’07, are also gaining popularity. But really, motos serve everyone’s basic transportation needs in surprisingly versatile ways. Not only do they carry people, but mid-sized motos can also transport:

A folded-up mattress

A family of six

Monks wearing saffron (orangish-yellow) robes, some talking on cell phones and/or carrying bright yellow umbrellas

Young babies asleep in their parents’ laps

A bicycle

A mom feeding her baby a bottle. OK, this time the moto wasn’t moving – I guess she just thought it was more comfortable or convenient than going inside. Sarah calls motos “the lawnchairs of Phnom Penh.”

People’s dogs

Giant baskets of fruit or peanuts going to market

Sarah’s desk and armoire (5’ tall thing to hold her clothes, like a portable closet) – on a single moto

A ladder

Life on the Side

Since I’m living in a capitol city, if I had thought about it, I might have expected sidewalks in most places. And they do exist on some major streets near me, but in many places, there’s just a wide road. Other streets have a series of tiled areas in front of their respective homes. They’re kind of a cross between a driveway and a patio, except that they’re not private: strangers sometimes walk on them.

However, no matter the form they take, their functions are diverse. I appreciate this, because it means that even living inside the “Logos Bubble,” I get glimpses into many aspects of everyday life here. Calling these areas a “sidewalk” would not begin to describe the activities that occur along the road, even on my three short blocks to school. (Actually, Khmer people don’t like walking anywhere; you sit still or drive whenever possible.) Instead, more accurate titles might include:

The Sideweld: I often have to veer around the giant torches to weld and split old recycled metal pipes and such.

The Sidebathe: Also at the recycling center, guys in their underwear routinely soap up and scrub off.

The Sidesleep: Especially tuk-tuk drivers waiting for customers, but others as well. (See “sideplay.)

The Sidevend: Bicycles carry stands of sweet sticky rice, Ovaltine drinks, bubble tea and more to the area in front of Logos right after school (talk about strategic!) and all over the city.

The Sidepray: Gold-colored spirit houses are located outside many homes and businesses. While Khmer Buddhists are not that observant, many leave food or herbs inside the spirit houses to honor their ancestors.

The Sideburn: Hehe, I couldn’t resist! Besides, what else would I call the piles of burning trash that are in my way a few times a week?

The Sideplay: Actually not funny at all. I’m glad I only see these kids at 7 AM and 5 PM. That way I can pretend that in the hours in between, they’re going to school and not continuing to kick a broken flip-flop back and forth. Actually, the worst was two toddlers playing in the dark in front of a passed-out adult. Would the adult wake up if someone abducted the kids?

The Sidewed: Want to marry a Khmer? Just set up a colorful tent immediately outside their house. Party for days to loud music, and you’ll be ready for a lifetime of commitment.

The Sideguard: This city is full of people trying to look official and threatening while playing Cell Phone Tetris for eight hours at a stretch. Don’t let them fool you. Having had problems with theft by previous employees, Logos started its own guard company, named Lightning Security after our Logos Lightning sports teams. They took photos of other local guards and asked a tailor to copy the uniforms. Now we have about 5 full-time guards; at all hours, at least one is greeting people by the gate. It’s a great chance for me to practice my Khmer, and they do some yardwork for Logos too.

One week into classes...

And I’m feeling better each day about teaching at Logos. I came out of my first week feeling tired, yes, but mainly relieved. Nearly all my students this week were respectful, eager to please, good participators, and able to do what I asked of them. On the whole, they seem quite mature, both emotionally and spiritually. I think I had more culture shock this week from the Christian school aspect of Logos than from the international school aspect…mainly the fact that my students eagerly and sincerely bring a Christian perspective into our discussions, even though I don’t ask them to make our talks explicitly Christian. I was also amazed yesterday at lunch when the seventh graders next to me formed an impromptu prayer huddle for one student’s grandpa. It’s incredible to me that this boy felt safe crying in front of his peers about his grandpa and how much he longs for his grandpa to know Jesus.

That lunchtime prayer circle testifies to another dramatic aspect of Logos: the community. Several situations I’ve been in would have been utterly ludicrous at State High. Picture this. On the first two days of class, I meet my five classes, totalling about 90 students. But I recognize about twelve familiar faces. Stephen, for instance. I got an e-mail from his mom (head of the Parents’ Association) back in May, when I first committed to Logos. It had the link to her blog, which I read curiously. Over the summer, I talked to his aunt Megan, a fellow teacher, about what to expect at Logos. Stephen’s family picked up my roommate from the airport, took her furniture shopping, and invited us for lunch on my second day. His dad, who teaches several classes, helped me with a seating chart and rescued my friend Danielle when she got lost after dark.

Another example? I already spent the night at the home of several students – and returned later for part of their Lord of the Rings marathon. Three of my students live in the House of Faith, Asian Hope’s home for girls. I recognized several from their photos and brief autobiographies, which I had seen online back in March, before even being offered a job. I hung out there one evening with several other teachers to watch Samedi, in sixth grade, while their two guardians (Beth and Anna) were out. When I got home, I found my landlord had locked the gate outside and was not answering his phone. (I’ve since gotten a key.) So I ended up returning to their house for the night and sleeping in Beth’s room. The next weekend, I was back to plan lessons with Anna, who’s co-teaching a writing class with me. But they sucked us into the last hour of “Fellowship of the Rings,” which they had nearly memorized. They also gave me my first taste of jackfruit – so sweet and satisfying, I practically devoured the whole bowl!

By the way, spending the night at the House of Faith involved THE COOLEST thing I’ve seen here yet. When Anna drove my roommate Sarah and me back to the house, she pulled up her car in front of the house but left the engine running, and we weren’t sure whether to get out yet. But she told us it would be easier now than when she pulled in. Pulled in where? We didn’t see a garage. Just then, Beth came from inside and pulled open the entire gate that forms the front wall of their downstairs, kind of a big rec room. We saw that she had dragged all the couches to the back wall. Anna rolled the car straight ahead over the tiled floor, and I realized that this was their rec room/garage! It was astounding, and I am bitter that I didn’t take a picture of it. These big square tiles are ubiquitous – there’s even a Tile Alley downtown that sells nothing else – and I can see why. They’re beautiful and indestructible, whether you’re driving on them, draining your washing machine onto them (that was me – oops!), killing cockroaches on them, or just walking with your ever-dirty feet on them.

The Newbies

I’ve been in “new teacher orientation” since last Monday, and today was the first in-service day for returning teachers. The other new teachers and I have had an awesome time hanging out and exploring Phnom Penh in various configurations. I’ve met so many people in the last two weeks, and it only seems right to give you a mini-directory before the number gets too overwhelming. So, for your reference, the new teachers are:

Sarah – my roommate, from Indiana, teaching first grade. Sarah is one of ten siblings, loves creating bulletin boards, and has more common sense than I do. (Thank goodness!) She and I are both excited to get to know our neighbors, and she’s even hoping to organize some of the neighborhood kids (who always say “hello” as we walk down the street) into a little English club.

Danielle – from Texas, teaching health, P.E., swimming, and algebra. Danielle loves tie dye and has been dancing for over a dozen years (all kinds). Having just turned 22, she’s the only one younger than I am.

Lorissa – from Winnipeg, Manitoba, teaching kindergarten. Lorissa taught in Thailand last year and spent a year in China teaching English, but Cambodia has been her first love for a while since making friends from here while at college.

Erin – from Florida, teaching art and kindergarten swimming. Erin has many ties to PA: her mom’s from Philly and her dad’s from Pittsburgh, so she grew up rooting for the Phillies and the Penguins. While Danielle and Lorissa live together, Erin is staying with 4 returning teachers.

Bob + Thierai (sp? Pronounced like “Tear-Eye”) – from Minnesota, he’s teaching sixth grade, she’s helping a third grader one-on-one due to his developmental delays. (“I’m just here with him,” she always says.) Thierai is a native of Cambodia and ethnic Khmer, but came to the US as a refugee decades ago. Bob loves being here; Thierai is adjusting to life as a “hidden immigrant,” where people tell her that her accent is funny and even tell her she looks Korean and not Khmer.

Suzanne – from Vancouver (?), ESL coordinator. Suzanne has fascinating stories about her time in Taiwan, Japan, and the houseboat community of CA. Determined to master the Khmer language, she’s the only one with a homestay. She gave us a quilting class last week, which her host family’s cook, Bonika, also attended in hopes of starting a microbusiness in quilting. Suzanne is my kindred spirit in her love for Jane Austen-esque literature and period films like “North and South” (one of 2 movies I brought along).

Shirley – a South Philly native, teaching fifth grade. Shirley left her career as a social worker to obtain a master’s in education from Penn and teach reading at a special education school before coming here. As the lone African-American on staff, she has a beautiful and powerful voice that resonates, especially when talking about her passion to help kids here, or when praying about God’s promises for Cambodia.

Lyle – from California, IT specialist and computer teacher. He just arrived Monday from 2 years teaching English in Japan. His girlfriend is also working in Phnom Penh, so hopefully we’ll get to know her too when she returns in a couple months. We’ve all been eagerly anticipating Lyle’s arrival; he even missed part of orientation Monday and Tuesday to fix some server issues. He’ll have his hands full, for sure!

Danger!

People think of developing countries as dangerous – one of the many reasons that some thought I was crazy to come here. The truth is, there are dangers here, but not necessarily the ones you’d expect. We’ve heard all about them in orientation:

Water – the drinking water is actually VERY clean when it leaves the purification site, but corroded pipes, etc. can compromise it, and it’s hard to tell in any given area. Everyone here brushes teeth with tap water. They wash dishes with tap water. They even drink iced coffee with ice made from tap water (albeit quickly, so the ice doesn’t melt into the drink). But nobody makes a habit of drinking it without some kind of filtration system. The real danger is rainwater if the streets flood, which carries all kinds of garbage and sewage, and can easily infect any blisters or cuts. We were told it’s vital to wash our feet frequently to get rid of street dirt.

Crime – Westerners are the target of robberies but generally not violent crimes. Guns are outlawed here and thus rare, but purse-snatchings are common. Khmer culture, at least since the Khmer Rouge era, sees theft as socially acceptable if you can get away with it undetected. A proverb says, “You should know when to take the straight path and when to take the crooked one.” It makes sense, given that nobody from the older generations survived without stealing. We’ve been warned to lock our doors, not to leave valuables in sight, and to pay attention when in traffic or crowded places. Logos had trouble in the past with guards and staff stealing money and materials, and many Westerners have similar issues with house helpers before finding people they trust. At night, girls aren’t supposed to walk alone, but they said we wouldn’t be in physical danger unless someone pushes us to grab our stuff. Still not pleasant, but it beats a drive-by shooting any day.

Sun Exposure hasn’t been an issue for me so far, since I’m inside during peak hours. But Cambodians take it seriously, often wearing long sleeves and long pants if they’re outside or on motos. (Light skin is considered beautiful here.) And the heat’s not awful right now – usually mid-80s and very humid. Still, it’s important to keep cool and drink lots of water. I had never thought about showers helping to lower your body temperature, but they’re strongly recommended here for that purpose. At this point, I don’t have a water heater, nor do I want one before cool season: the water is about 80 F without one. Khmer people are not big fans of sweating: Suzanne’s host family showers three times a day! She says she feels like a slob in comparison. I suppose it’s the only way to cover up with warm clothing and still not smell – I have yet to experience body odor among my Cambodian acquaintances.

Tropical Diseases – malaria is not a risk in Phnom Penh, but dengue fever is. Like malaria, it’s carried by mosquitos, but those that bite during the day rather than at night (like malaria carriers). A recent epidemic killed a number of children, but it’s not fatal as long as you have access to medical care: it just makes you miserable for about 2 weeks. Several Logos teachers have had it. Mysterious rashes are common, but typically disappear on their own. A bigger risk is rabies: many dogs roam the streets, and while estimates range wildly, we heard that about 60% are thought to carry rabies. They are not well-trained and may be aggressive, especially if you’re running. (Joggers and playing children, beware!) People claim their dogs have had rabies shots, but often lack the paperwork to verify it. So I stay away from all dogs here, even the cute ones.

Transportation – there are no high-speed collisions in Phnom Penh, because there are no high-speed drivers: traffic usually plods along at under 20 MPH. That being said, they don’t follow traffic laws closely, except for red lights. It’s more like walking in a crowded shopping mall. You generally try to stay on the right, but it’s more important to go with the flow, and if you see an opening in the oncoming lane, you’ll duck into it. Left turns are great because you often end up to the left of opposing traffic until there’s a break for you to switch back to your lane. The actual locations of other vehicles are much more important than the laws on the books, which are akin to US traffic laws. Thus, absent-minded drivers like me do NOT belong on the streets of Phnom Penh. Crossing the street’s not bad, since drivers are used to weaving around you. But I sometimes have to cross one direction of traffic and wait in the middle for a break in the other direction.

There are many crashes, some fatal, some minor. I’ve seen one crash since I came – it looked minor, but the driver fell off the moto. Besides internal injuries, moto crashes can lead to the infamous “Cambodian tattoo” – burning your legs on the exhaust pipe. This is why all girls sitting side-saddle face the left on motos. It’s also why you have to watch out when walking through a line of parked motos; you can’t tell which ones are still hot. Moto drivers have begun wearing helmets more often, and I'll need to get one at the market before riding with them. The joke in the past was that you should never choose a moto driver with a helmet, because he feels invincible.

Foreigners/whites have some special transportation risks. The first is traffic fines. Native Khmer can violate laws all they want, but police are on the lookout for foreigners to nab: one missionary referred to recent arrivals as “ATMs for cops.” They’re paid around $50 a month and supplement their income with bribes and inflated fines. They also know who’s new in town, and purposely target them. I was already in a car that was pulled over; the driver moved here 7 months ago and accidentally drove the wrong way on a (unmarked) 1-way street. After negotiating, he paid $4, better than the $10 he accepted last time, but a far cry from the $1.50 that it’s supposed to be. The second risk is getting blamed for crashes. We were warned never to stop at the scene of an accident (unless we were in it), since we’re an easy scapegoat and people might think we were somehow at fault. Even if they don’t blame us, they could still expect us to pay the injured parties’ medical bills.