Looking backwards to see the future

July 7, 2018

I left Cambodia in December of 2013 to go to grad school in the US. I never dreamed that I would be away for so long. So much has changed both for me personally and for the country of Cambodia, yet somehow there is still so much that feels the the same. Not a single day has passed since I left that I have not thought about the people I love in Cambodia and the country as a whole. Tomorrow I will fly back to Cambodia to visit for a month. At this moment there are a multitude of mixed emotions and thoughts running through my mind.

Here's something you may not know; one of the last conversations I had with my father was me telling him that I was leaving to go to Cambodia and serve in the Peace Corps. My father served two tours in the Vietnam War and recounted his experience of warfare in the Cambodian jungle; I assured him that my service would be nothing like that, but he remained firm that I should be careful. That was the day before I left Georgia. Six days after I arrived in Cambodia, I was called into a room by one of the senior staff members with a serious look on her face; I thought I was in trouble or that I had done something wrong. Instead she told me that my father died the day before. It is still beyond me to be able to put into words what I felt. I flew back to the states for two weeks for my father's funeral and then hopped on a plane to come back to Cambodia. It was surreal to say the least. Between the shock of losing my dad, the jet lag of flying to and from and back to Cambodia 3 times in a 3 week period, and immediately moving in with a family in Traing district, Takeo province that literally spoke no English, everything felt like a blur. It was disorienting and there was an underlying sense that everything had changed.

There was nothing to do in Traing district and the family I lived with had no electricity, indoor plumbing, or much else of material development. They did however have patient and loving hearts and they went out of their way to welcome me and help me learn how to live in rural Cambodia. I can clearly remember the first morning I woke up and walked down to the outdoor kitchen area to eat breakfast and Mi Yim (my host mother) started laughing with a few other family members and recounting in Khmer (which I didn't speak at the time) that they could hear me praying Buddhist prayers in Pali language before I went to bed and they thought this was fantastic since they too were Buddhists. It may sound strange, but that was really the root of Cambodia becoming "home" for me. With so much radical change in my life at that time, I took solace in my faith, the stillness of the the rural countryside at night, and the warmhearted generosity of the family that took me in.

My thoughts and experiences in Cambodia are reflected in blog posts that I wrote years ago, but there is something calling me back to a level of openness now on the eve of returning to Cambodia. When I went back to Georgia for my father's funeral I knew that I had lost any sense of being at "home" there. Everything and every place was forever stained with the memory of my father and growing up as his son and namesake in an Irish-Catholic community. Cambodia was something new, a blank canvas where I was forced to look at who I am when everything else is gone and there are no narratives or stories from the past to define me. In the countryside of rural Cambodia, I grieved and I learned. I grieved the loss of my father and I learned that he will always be a part of who I am; I learned to honor his memory in a way that made sense to me. I grieved the loss of who I thought I had been, a troubled kid with a rocky past, and learned that I was someone entirely different. I found peace in the simplicity of rural life and purpose in the effort to simply be helpful in a community and country filled with poverty and a recent history of tremendous violence and loss. Some philosopher said "You can never step in the same river twice." The young man that first signed up to join the Peace Corps and the man that returned to the states to attend grad school 4 years later were not the same. With everything stripped away, I discovered the simple things in life that held the greatest meaning.

Tomorrow I'll get on a plane to go to a country that was "home" the last time I was there and that has lived on as "home" in my thoughts and memories. With a fancy degree, a successful career, and more material stuff than I have ever had or needed, I am looking forward to shedding it all. In academia and professionally there is always a push to improve, do more, and always be looking forward. For me, Cambodia is the reminder that none of that really matters. Just be. Be present. Be compassionate. Be amazed. Be loving. Simply be.

I left Cambodia to go to grad school, certain that I would be back there as soon as I was done; I could picture a life there. I still can, but now there are question marks too. As a Peace Corps Volunteer and later as an NGO worker, I found answers to questions I didn't even know I had. Going back now, I hope that "home" can provide more answers in the stillness of the countryside night, the green hues of the rice fields, the Pali prayers of the Buddhist wats, and the smiling faces of loved ones.

Questioning the evangelical gospel

The following is an email I sent to some missionary friends a little while ago and while I did get an initial response, I didn't get any answers. They were very busy while they were in Cambodia and my questions were quite detailed so there may be multiple reasons why no answers were given. The point is I asked these folks because I believe their motivation is to help Cambodia and Cambodian people and I want to have answers to the questions I am asking. This is the email I sent them, but I have omitted their names and the names of specific organizations in Cambodia because the point wasn't to single out individuals or organizations, but to ask questions about evangelism in Cambodia that I think are important....

I have some nagging questions and concerns about missionary and/or Christian organizations in Cambodia that I want to ask but I hesitate because I am not sure exactly how to phrase them without seeming offensive. I am asking you because through our limited interactions I get the sense that you and (name omitted) truly care about Cambodia and the Cambodian people and it is the sense of sincerity that comes across when I read your posts or speak to you that makes me bring these questions to you. Please consider that I am asking these questions or noting my observations over a broad spectrum of experience in Cambodia and I don't mean for any of my comments/questions to be offensive or to generalize them as reflective of all Christians. So here they are:

1. The Khmer Rouge destroyed so much of the Khmer cultural history including its rich Buddhist history. Along with 1.4 million (Cambodians have told me it should be 3 million) people killed there was also a near destruction of Buddhism in Cambodia. The monastic population went from something like 70000 before the Khmer Rouge to around 600 after the Khmer Rouge. Cambodia's largest cultural icon to the world is Ankor Wat which while largely Hindu originally has deep historical ties to Theravada and Mahayana Buddhism. The Buddhist religion was literally interwoven with a sense of being Khmer. With so many Christian organizations spreading the message of Christianity in Cambodia, doesn't it in some ways deprive this generation of Cambodians the opportunity to reclaim their Khmer cultural identity and the opportunity to rebuild a central aspect of what was taken from them as individuals and a collective society? One generation removed from the genocide (everyone under 33 was born after Pol Pot lost Phnom Penh and everyone 33 or older lived through the regime) and 15 years removed from the multi-factioned civil war, shouldn't Cambodia have the opportunity to heal their spiritual, psychological, emotional, and physical wounds with the spiritual tradition which is their "religious" home? I mean that it is a known entity and not a foreign conception of spirituality/religion. Isn't the Cambodian culture and psyche uniquely married to Buddhism through its everyday usage of spirit houses, traditional medicine, offering alms to the monks, protective tattoos, making offerings to deceased relatives and ancestors, and rich iconography of Cambodia's Buddhist history? Is the spreading of a "Western" faith in a country that was so recently forcibly robbed of their historic faith a sort of religious/spiritual imperialism that capitalizes on desperation and loss?

2. Some of the NGOs working in Cambodia (organization names omitted) are quite direct in their evangelical message and some are a bit more selective in how they portray themselves. Each of the organizations I mentioned has done anti-trafficking and anti-exploitation work in the field of forced prostitution and each of them has a ministerial religious component to their programs. The vast majority of the young women rescued or assisted in their exit from the sex industry have overwhelmingly expressed a desire to return to their communities and villages in rural Cambodia. Their experience as prostituted women and girls made them "broken" and "unworthy" in the eyes of Cambodian society while they were sex workers. Once they exit with the help of one of these organizations there is an immense pressure to become like the "rescuer." Even when it is not an overt part of the mission statement, though it is a part for most of the orgs I listed, their is an underlying desire to please the individuals and orgs that have helped them out of such hellish conditions. This is understandable. But Christians are a marginal population within rural Cambodia and are often seen as separate and different from their Buddhist counterparts. Doesn't including a Christian mission or even subtle undertones prevent these young women from achieving what they have overwhelmingly expressed is their desire to successfully re-integrate into their communities? Doesn't becoming Christian just place them in another category as different from their larger community as well as their families and friends? Does including the Gospel message in anti-exploitation work actually serve to benefit the young women and girls exiting forced prostitution or rather does it serve to benefit the ngos themselves and increase their international funding appeal?

3. I've spoken to several highly qualified Cambodians working in the development and social work sector and asked them about (name omitted NGO) and various positions within that org. The responses I got were a bit surprising to me. They said that to move up or advance within (name omitted NGO) it was important to be a part of the religious activities within the organization. The folks I am referencing have years of experience and degrees that qualify them for work at (name omitted NGO), but they were all quite resentful at the idea of having to become or appearing to be Christian in order to do what they are are already qualified and capable of doing. Doesn't this place (name omitted NGO) and other likeminded ngos in a position of having lesser qualified staff due to their official/unofficial declaration of promoting Christian workers in a predominantly Buddhist country? Does this internal policy actually place them at odds with the largely Buddhist populace they actually aim to serve? Through efforts such as this is Cambodia producing Christians who are essentially doing little more than changing religious labels in an effort to find gainful and meaningful employment (I know this is not entirely the case as I have met some wonderfully kind Khmer Christians, but they stand out from many of their Christian counterparts)? Is Christianity being used as a means of discrimination towards Cham (Muslim), Buddhist, and largely shamanistic animist ethnic minority groups within Cambodia based on unofficially official policies?

4. These questions have larger implications socially but much of it is based in my own inability to rectify Christianity with my own Buddhist beliefs and my experience of religious intolerance back in Georgia. I feel like letting you know that is pertinent to the questions. How is Christianity able to rectify such practices as feeding hungry ghosts (Pchum Ben holiday), honoring the spirits of ancestors and appeasing local spirits (spirit houses and spirit shrines), and making offerings to monks/nuns/wats as a means of purifying past misdeeds? I know as a convert to Buddhism years ago, having "Christians" tell me that I was going to hell for not being a Christian was hard to take. It was hurtful though I really believe several of these folks really meant it and did not intend it as a personal attack. How is this taught in Cambodian churches? If a young woman or man becomes a Christian out of sincere faith and belief, how do they rectify that with their Buddhist mom, dad, siblings, and grandparents? How are they taught to view the other 98% of the non-Christian population? A sweet Khmer young woman flatly told me that anyone that does not believe in Jesus Christ as God will not go to heaven and it seemed to escape her that she was saying that everyone of her friends, classmates, and coworkers would be denied entrance into the heaven of her conception because they were all Buddhist and Muslim. This point was not missed on her peers however and I wondered if they felt how I felt those years ago; that by following my deepest convictions and beliefs I would somehow always be "condemned" by folks that were a large part of my life. From a Biblical or church perspective I don't know what the answers are. I know what I believe but I would like to know what Christians believe in this regard and more specifically what Cambodian Christian denominations are teaching and preaching in this vein.

To sum all of this up I want to give an example of a conversation that stuck with me that I have been trying to make sense of the past few years. The pastor of a Khmer church also worked a day job as a barber in rural Cambodia. I went to him for my normal haircut ("Cut it short like the monks.") and seeing that I was a white skinned foreigner he asked me if I was Christian. I told him no; I practice Mahayana Buddhism (technically Vajrayana Buddhism but that is splitting hairs here). He said "That is too bad. I am a Christian." I told him that my family is Christian and that I went to Christian schools as a child, but that I became a Buddhist a long time ago. He asked me why I became Buddhist and I did my best to explain what led me to becoming Buddhist. It was in a mixture of Khmer and English and it wasn't an easy conversation. Then I asked him why he became a Christian. Before he could answer, his buddy and fellow barber chimed in "Look at all of the Buddhist countries. Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia everyone is Buddhist and everyone is poor. It is difficult to get food. Most people don't have any money and have difficult lives. Look at Western nations, everyone is Christian and they have big houses, expensive automobiles, lots of food, and money. He got tired of being poor and Buddhist and thought that if he becomes Christian maybe Jesus will give him lots of money, food, and a life that is not so difficult too." My Christian pastor friend then tried to give his answer but to be honest it didn't stick with me and his friend's quick reply has stuck with me for a few years now. Both of these guys were covered in the "protection tattoos" given by monks and "magic" people and they said those tattoos had been a part of their protection during the Khmer Rouge and civil war years (keep in mind I lived in an area that was a Khmer Rouge stronghold until they laid down their arms in the mid-90's). He believed that these tattoos had protected him from bullets from entering his skin and made him invisible to his enemies. Many men in my town were covered in these tattoos, but once he became a Christian he no longer needed these tattoos and saw them as unattractive and part of his past as a soldier. They had lost their magic to him. I can't presume to know his thoughts and I realize that there is already some speculation on my behalf along these lines, but I can't help but wonder if he wouldn't have been better off with his magic tattoos and the shamanistic Theravada Buddhism of Cambodia than he was with his foreign Christian faith in a Jesus that his friend perceived as blessing Western nations with wealth and excess.

I hope I haven't overwhelmed you with my questions and observations. As a Buddhist, I realize that I am not necessarily impartial in my perspective and opinion, but I am asking these questions because I really would like to understand some of the motivation and dynamics that are involved in Christian missionary work in Cambodia. Being limited in my understanding of contemporary Christianity and partial to Buddhism, I hope that my questions, observations, and wording is not offensive or rude. Thanks for any insights you can shed on these questions because I have been asking them for a while now and I just am not coming up with any satisfactory answers.

Why I Came Back to Cambodia and What Keeps Me Here

   It has been quite a while since I sat down and wrote anything on this blog. Since my last entry I have finished my service as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Moung Russey district, Battambang province, Cambodia, returned to America and my wonderful family, missed Cambodia terribly, and hopped on a plane to get back to the Bode as fast as I could having little more than a heartfelt sense that this is where I am supposed to be. The moment I got on the plane to fly back to America, I thought "Why am I going back? What am I doing?" and the only answer I could come up with was because my family was waiting for me to get off the plane and give them a hug after two years overseas. Seeing my family was wonderful; for a Southern man like me there is very little that can compare to sitting around a dinner table eating a home cooked meal and laughing with my mom, sisters, and brother in law. It may sound silly, but my aunt's special fried shrimp recipe, my mom's simple but un-improvable salad, and my sister's pot roast are just dishes of food, but somehow sharing them with my family is one of my most treasured memories. If I live to be an old man, I am certain I will be able to recall my sisters' laughs and my mother's smile from a witty comment made by my brother in law over one of those delicious Southern meals. So why did I move back to Cambodia with nothing promised to me and give up the happiness that comes with being surrounded by family and friends? That is a hard question to answer, but I'm gonna try.

    The life of a Peace Corps Volunteer is fairly simple: move to a foreign country, learn some basic language, move to a rural village (usually), try to be of service as much as possible (or as much as you can stand it), integrate into the community as much as possible, and try do make a sustainable and lasting contribution to the community. Peace Corps has a motto, "The toughest job you'll ever love," and it was true for me. This is not meant as a "poor developing nation, let me help you with my Western knowledge" rant, but living here changed me. Everyday I got to teach a group of little kids (some of whose) families couldn't afford to send them to private classes and who would most likely never have the opportunity to go to high school, much less college. These were children of local farmers or sellers (market vendors) for the most part, with a few kids that lived with a grandparent or aunt because their parents weren't around for a variety of reasons. Five days a week, every week, for two years these kids came to Moung Russey High School to study English with me. At that time I was still learning how to teach and my grasp of the Khmer language was tedious and rudimentary at best. That never stopped them from showing up. If I got sick (as I did many times), they would show up at my house and knock on my door insisting that we have class. When I felt homesick for my family and friends back in Georgia, they would lift my spirits just by being excited and happy to see me when I showed up at school. When I questioned my effectiveness as a volunteer and the sustainability of my projects, hearing them ask me questions in English and watching the friendship that bloomed between the kids who have a little and the kids that have nothing, it showed me that for them I was a part of a sustainable change for the positive. To see over a couple years, a young boy whose 16 year old brother is working illegally in Thailand (one of the many), who knows he is most likely the next to go, whose family has nothing and watch him gain confidence in himself, go from knowing only "hello" to asking a new question in English everyday, and see him share his new found knowledge with 3 other boys who come from eerily similar situations... it is hard to describe how that impacted/impacts me. Knowing that right now, today, he went to school and still has a hope of getting an education and finding a way out of the stifling poverty he was born into, and getting to play a role in that change is amazing.And he is just one kid, a really persistent and incredibly intelligent kid, but just one kid. I was lucky enough to be born with the means, the opportunity, and a family that pushed me towards education. He didn't have any of that. This isn't meant as some "Philip is a good guy" story, but to try to convey how awesome an impression one student has had on my life and he is one of many. The day I left my house in Moung Russey every kid that I had been teaching 5 days a week for 2 years came to my house and hung out while I packed. Some of them cried and told me how much they would miss me. Some told me they had dreams about riding a bike to America to see me. They all told me they didn't want me to go. To tell the truth, I didn't want to go either. Everywhere I went in Moung those kids followed me two to a bike. When I talk about Moung Russey I always end up calling them "my kids" because I feel responsible to make sure they are okay, to try to give them the opportunities I took for granted as a kid, and to make sure they know that I am proud of them. I could rattle off all of their names and try to explain how back in America I missed each and everyone of them, but it wouldn't really give the thought/feeling the significance it deserves. And this is just the kids; there are friends in Moung and older students that impacted me very deeply as well, but I can only write so much.

   My assignment as a PCV was to be a health and education volunteer which means that I was supposed to teach high school English and work with the local health center contributing where I can. That isn't what I did. The Moung Russey health center was fairly well staffed and didn't really need or want a whole lot of help, but my neighborhood did. There were roughly 8 karaoke bars/brothels in my neighborhood filled with young women and girls varying in age from 15 to 28. Each brothel/karaoke bar could have anywhere from 3 to +20 girls/women working and living there at any given time. The HIV/AIDS epidemic hit Cambodia (and Battambang province particularly) ridiculously hard when the UN came in to establish "democratic elections" in the 1990's. When I asked what happened to the women who were infected during that time period I was flatly told "They all died" because there were no anti-retroviral drugs available in Cambodia at that time. Anti-retrovirals are available now and HIV education and prevention has increased dramatically since that time, but everyday as I rode my bike to school to meet my kids I rode past the brothels and bars. When I would ride home around dusk, there would be young women, around 18 or 19 years old if that, standing near a particular brothel close to my home. I wondered what happened to them, how did they get in that position, what was being done to help them, why did I see them everyday and what was being done to protect them? In Moung the answer was largely "Who cares? They are bad girls." I asked around a bit and got some help from a high ranking friend at the health center and a local ngo and set out to go to the brothels and karaoke bars to teach about HIV and STI (sexually transmitted infections) prevention. It met with some success and then was shut down due to an ngo that will remain nameless that was afraid I would apply for and receive their US AID funding. When I asked to volunteer with them, they said "No thanks." Once the PC helped me establish with the local bureaucracy that I was not interested in anyones' funding and that I was there on a purely volunteer basis, I was given the green light to go back. The oddest part of this is that if I had been going to the brothels and bars for sex, no one would have cared or intervened; in fact, men in the community would have and did openly invited me to go with them. It was only because I was not interested in having sex, but wanting to help the young women that were living and working there that a "conflict of interest" arose. Oddly enough as well, I NEVER encountered the ngo that was afraid I would take their funding when I went to the karaoke bars and brothels. I went multiple times a week for two years and I never saw them or heard anyone talk about them visiting. When I resumed my work in the brothels and karaoke bars the folks that had been helping me previously were unable to continue, so I recruited a friend who spoke decent English and proceeded to go back and teach. After a while, I started going alone and just sitting and chatting with the women when they weren't busy. Every week I bought a case or a couple cases of condoms and made the rounds passing them out. I sat and joked with some of the women who by now had become friends. They played cards and I tried to follow the inconsistencies of their bets. I brought fruit and we ate. They cooked their lunch and made me a plate too. Some of the women came to trust me and that means a lot when every other man that comes to the bar is there for one reason. As a rule, sex workers don't trust men because it is men who have raped them, beaten them, lied to them, and continue to do so on a daily basis. One young woman sticks out in my mind more than others because she was so angry. When I first started going to the bars she would ask me if I wanted to sleep with her, when I said no she didn't know what to do. When I kept saying no over a period of weeks she became really angry, but then over a period of months she saw that I really didn't want anything from her except to try to help her if possible. At first she baffled me with her anger, but over time I realized that her anger was absolutely and totally appropriate. From a young age she was told that she was "broken" and not equal to men or even other women. Rape and violence are part and parcel of the sex industry, if someone tells you they aren't believe me when I say that that is total and complete bullshit. Her male contact on a daily basis was dominated largely by men who were there to get drunk and have sex with her, willingly or unwillingly. When I came along and treated her like a normal person, it scared her. It should have because it is nice speaking and seemingly friendly folks that largely control the intake and recruitment of young women into the sex industry. Often it is an aunt, cousin, family friend, boyfriend, etc. that first pushes these young women into forced sex work. There is also no shortage of seeming "do-gooder ngo folks" (both Khmer and foreigner, though in rural Cambodia the amount of foreigners is minuscule)who while seemingly altruistic in their professional lives have no problem taking part in the sexual exploitation of girls and women. I say all of that to say this, gaining the trust of some of these young women was the highest complement I have ever been given and it took a courage I can't begin to imagine. Because of that trust 3 of my friends who had been working at a local karaoke bar/brothel were able to enter a safe house run by an amazing ngo called AFESIP. The young woman who had been so angry before was one of those young women. The day AFESIP came to Moung and gave their presentation in a local brothel and took my friends back to the safe house in Phnom Penh after driving deep into a more out of the way village to get another of my friends out of a brothel/bar, was and remains the happiest day of my life. That is the only time in my life I can remember crying tears of joy. How can I ever walk away from their trust when I know that brothels/karaoke bars/massage parlors/etc. litter the Cambodian landscape from city to village and they are filled with young women and girls just like my friends? 

   Cambodia is complicated and things aren't always what they seem; while I was back in the States all three of my friends left the AFESIP shelter. Without going into how's and why's that are all just a bunch of pointless words unless you have met these women, tried to see their lives through their eyes (and how impossible that is), and made a commitment to a friend to help; it is hard to explain. A week after returning to Cambodia, I found 2 of my friends in the same bar I helped them leave before I went back to America. Where I was once welcomed to teach, pass out condoms, and just sit around and chat, I am now unwelcome. When I went back I sensed violence could happen quickly and it is the only time I have truly felt unwelcome in Cambodia. My friend couldn't speak; when I asked questions someone else answered. They trusted me when every experience in their lives told them not to, how can I break that trust by walking away from a danger that they live inside everyday? I will go back and that scares me, but not going back scares me more.

   Right now I am living and working in Stung Meanchey district, Phnom Penh, Cambodia. I am an English teacher at an ngo that helps disadvantaged folks from the countryside gain experience in the IT field and provides scholarships to four year universities. I am a five hour bus ride from everyone and everything that called me back home to Cambodia as soon as I got on the plane to leave. Though Phnom Penh is drastically different from a farming community of 15000 people, the streets are filled with "my kids" and my friends. Every KTV (karaoke bars and sometimes brothels) and street kid reminds me of the responsibility and the trust that was placed in me back in Moung Russey. I don't know what my next step is, but I know it isn't to walk away. I don't want to confuse anyone with my words; I don't have a "savior complex" and I don't think I have all the answers to any of the problems here, but I do have a responsibility to be a part of the solution.

   And that is part of the reason I won't be eating delicious Southern food with my mom, sisters, and brother in law anytime soon.

Faith based initiatives and why I'm weary of the wording

I was reading up on an organization I was unfamiliar with and stumbled upon the term "faith-based" for what feels like the thousandth time in the last 6 months. Like every other time I read this term I became instantly weary and that seems odd since I consider myself to be a "person of faith." Maybe it is my Bible Belt upbringing, but when I hear that term I associate it with Christianity which isn't entirely fair to Christians since there are Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist,Jewish, and other faith based programs. Al-Queda describe their actions as "faith based" but they are hardly representative of the majority of Muslims, just like the "faith based" actions of Christian terrorists aren't representative of Christ. Christ never advocated shooting abortion doctors, blowing up gay clubs, or any other terrorist act but every time one of these folks gets caught they claim to be acting on their faith in God/Allah/Jehovah/Yahweh/etc. Obviously not all faith based programs are of this extreme variety but it leaves me wondering what "faith based" actually means and if it is really a useful term at all. To apply this to myself and the spiritual tradition I practice: The Buddha taught love, compassion, honesty, peace, selflessness, generosity, forgiveness, patience, integrity, wisdom, etc. So to be a person of faith should really mean to be a person of principle because these are universal principles that are found in all of the major (and most minor) spiritual traditions. The Buddha claimed no monopoly on these principles, neither did Jesus or the Prophet Mohammad or Brahma/Vishnu/Shiva/etc. So my faith in the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha should inspire me to act in a manner in accordance with the principles Buddha proscribed. My actions should be "principle based" rather than "faith based." To look at this in a slightly different light, the word faith is easily used as a standard replacement for religion. For example: Followers of the Buddhist faith/religion believe in rebirth, karma, any number of deities, and lack an independently existing creator or god. You can read that sentence with either faith or religion and it makes sense, but try it with "principle" in the same place... It doesn't work. This leads me to think that if I am calling my actions "faith based" then there is a certain likelihood that I am not overly concerned with passing on the principles advocated by the figure whom my spiritual tradition is founded on so much as passing on my religion itself. This is not to say that religion as a synonym of faith cannot work in close proximity to faith; Mother Teresa was a deeply religious woman who acted on the principles of Christ's teaching. She didn't let her religious conviction of the Holy Trinity as a multi-faceted expression of a singular God stand in the way of feeding, clothing, and nursing to health thousands of Hindu children. Her religious faith convinced her of the application of principle as her highest priority. Her actions were "principle based" rather than "faith based." Because of this Mother Teresa is regard by many Catholics and non-Catholics as a saint. Now to back track a bit and examine those more extreme versions of "faith based" action such as the Christian and Muslim Crusades. How difficult is finding a justification to kill someone if your actions are based upon the principles of peace, kindness, love, etc? Pretty difficult to create a scenario where killing is an expression of love and kindness. How difficult is killing someone if your action is based on a sense of religious superiority? A glance through the history books or turning on the news should answer that fairly quickly. To take this point back to the original idea of calling an organization that seeks to help others in need a "faith based initiative" does it a great disservice in my opinion. If the goal of the organization is the conversion of people belonging to a heathen faith then "faith based" fits. It lets the rest of the world know where you stand. When an organization is acting on principle to help those who are in need regardless of their beliefs, when those organizations act with love for the sake love, we should call it "principle based" because that is what it is.

Apologies for the lack of paragraphs to space this out a bit, but as I wrote it it felt like a continious stream of the same idea and I tried to write it accordingly. This is meant only to be critical of the term "faith based" not the organizations that use the term. There are some wonderful groups working tirelessly to improve the lives of others, who base their actions entirely on the principles advocated by Jesus, Mohammad, Buddha, etc.

Overdue update and what is weighing on my heart

It has been quite a while since I posted anything on the blog so I figure I am overdue. My lack of entries has been the result of two specific causes. The most recent cause was the fact that the Cambodian government blocked several blog domains due to the criticism of the government from a few select bloggers. This left me unable to access my blog for a while and I didn't realize that I could access it now until about 5 minutes ago. The second reason I haven't posted much was simply because I am not sure what to say and what to keep to myself, so I try to err on the side of caution. This lead to a build up of unpublished drafts and a blog with no recent entries. Today I am throwing the second factor out the window because I just want to rant a little bit about some of the stuff spinning around in my heart and head.

Part of what has grabbed my attention in Cambodia has been the difficult role women are forced to play in Khmer society. There is a Khmer code of conduct for women known as Chbab Srey which specifically states that a woman should not hold herself to be her husbands equal, to always be quiet and shy, to keep herself hidden, not to laugh too loud, not to sleep with her back to her husband, etc. Women and men are often described through this axion "Men are like precious gems, if they are dropped into the dirt or mud they can easy be cleaned and restored to their original nature; women are like fine linen, if they are dropped into the dirt or mud they will forever be tarnished regardless of how hard they try to remove the stain." I remember hearing this when I first arrived in Cambodia and thinking "What a bunch of bullshit." Almost two years later and seeing how Chbab Srey actually functions in society I often find myself disgusted by what is seen as normal behavior by men in Cambodia. Not all men are guilty of this and I can say that I know a handful of men that to all appearances treat their wife as their equal. This is not the norm though. Many of the foreigners who arrive here adopt their own sick versions of Chbab Srey to justify their own exploitative desires, so it is not strictly a phenomenon relegated to Cambodian men. To clarify how this shows up in regular everyday life for young Khmer women, if a girl has a boyfriend before she is married and losses her virginity her prospects of marriage decrease and the stigma placed on her will follow her for years if not for a lifetime. her boyfriend however may be called a playboy or a gangster (a broad term here) but he really won't have any signifigant difficulties. Girls are taught to guard their virginity because without it they have little value and because of this the majority of Cambodian men have their first sexual encounter in a karaoke bar, brothel, or at another location with a sex worker. Others turn to the use of force because they know that having a consenting partner is difficult due to the risk a woman faces if her sexual activity is disclosed openly or even slightly questionable.

Part of what I do in my town is to distribute condoms at local karaoke bars and to provide education about HIV/AIDS and other sexually transmitted infections. Most of the young women that live or work in this places are so socially marginalized that they literally have no other option. They are largely deprived of education, sometimes lacking even the most basic education such as reading and writing Khmer, and have no marriage options because they lost their virginity to a boyfriend or had it taken by a rapist. Others have been tricked into sex work by traffickers that promised their families that the girls would be given jobs in a factory. Some are sold into the brothel or bar by an aunt, uncle, or acquaintance in order to make a few hundred dollars. The girl is expected to have sex with customers in order to pay off the debt that the bar owner took by purchasing her. These young women are at the absolute lowest rung of the social ladder in Cambodia and have very hope of escaping a life filled with violence, rape (usually more than once), and poverty. Other women in the community look down on these women, who are often still more girls than women, because they are no longer "pure" and they can never be made pure again. It is striking to hear a young woman who makes $10 a day (which is decent here) talk about a sex worker of the same age and describe her as "a bad girl who only wants to have a lot of money and likes to be with many men." The truth is that this is a lie the girl must tell herself because there is actually very little social cushioning to prevent her from being in the same situation. Walking in a rice field alone and being discovered by a man or group of men with hurtful intentions can not only leave her emotionally shattered and traumatized, but it can also be the symbolic piece of straw that breaks the camel's back. It goes unsaid but it is important to remember that it isn't any one action that leads to the life of quiet desperation sex workers live, just as it wasn't one piece of straw that broke the camel's back, it is the millions of other pieces of straw underneath it. Not all girls that lose their virginity before marriage end up as sex workers, neither do all the victims of rape. However, listening to the women that work in the sex industry reveals that almost all of them experienced a situation along these lines that left them "impure" or "stained" in the eyes of their society. Most of these young women were born poor to begin with, so they entered the world with a heavy burden to shoulder anyway. In a society where a male child is openly preferred to a female child and without enough money to escape the multiple burdens of poverty, these women are viewed as disposable once they no longer possess the redeeming quality of being a virgin. They have a social stigma, no education or trade, an empty stomach, and very often they are expected to make a financial contribution to their family. Where are they supposed to go in a society that considers it normal for a married man to go out drinking with his friends at a karaoke bar with his friends and sleep with one of the girls there. If his wife were to dress even slightly immodestly, she would "lose face" as well as her husband and she would likely face strong reprimand by her husband. For his infidelity, which is usually an ongoing occurrence, he probably won't hear a word from his wife or from anyone else simply because it was expected. When there exists a social mechanism that demands that a man be able to quench his sexual appetites while simultaneously demanding that women maintain a rigid sense of purity, it gives rise to a market that actively creates a disposable class who no longer have any purity to maintain and that can be used and discarded by men.

So where am I going with this? Where is the silver lining to this grey cloud? At this moment there isn't one. As I go about passing out condoms and talking about HIV, people think that I am quite odd. Even the women in the karaoke bars sometimes seem confused that I'm not there for sex since the man who hasn't had sex with a prostitute here is a rare find. There are organizations putting up a valiant fight to help these young women. Organizations like AFESIP, Action Pour Les Enfants, International Justice Mission, and others are dong all they can but it is only making the smallest of dents in what is a country wide (and region wide) problem. Through no fault of their own they are somewhat limited to trying to help the absolute worst cases of exploitation and due to funding and distance I have never seen them in my town, but I pass multiple karaoke bars filled with young women on a daily basis. The only organization I did run into was a small Cambodian run NGO that had me summoned to the local health center director's office out of concern that I would try to apply for their USAID funding. Once they heard that I am a volunteer and work for free and have no interest in their funding, I never heard from them again. Even when I asked them if I could volunteer for them and help them in any way, they said thanks but no thanks. Maybe they do great work, but I can tell you that when I am talking to karaoke bar owners or trying to teach basic English to the children of the sex workers I have never run into that NGO.

So this is where I am at; these young women need help. They need a future. Every piece of purity they have supposedly lost is totally intact. You can see it in their eyes and hear in their laughter during those moments when they realize that your not there to take anything from them, not there to hurt them, not there for sex, not there to throw another piece of straw on the camel's back. I'm no Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Dr. King or anyone else along those lines and I don't want to pretend to be. I'm not even particularly good at what I'm trying to do, but I can't look away. I can't pretend that I don't know that no one else is going to try to help the young women in the seven karaoke bars within a kilometer of my house. It has broken my heart and I'm glad it has. It is my prayer that this breaks your heart too. I hope it breaks so deeply that you can't look away and that you have to do something even if you don't know what to do. Call your Congressman, write him/her a letter, donate to an NGO fighting the exploitation of women and children, start an NGO for this, just do something.

Writing from a while back

Theory of Relativity
we have a second to birth, breathe, feel, think, love, die
in every moment I have felt as if I knew everyone before we met
since the first goodbye impermanence and death have held my hand consciously
there is an order to the dyed particles of the karmic kaleidoscope which escapes each viewer
can’t stand still; can’t move
the lens has been lifted towards the sun so we assign our own meaning to the fractured light
the millisecond of childhood is the closest we come to understanding

Some of my favorite quotes

This is a somewhat random collection of quotes that inspire me or echo something within. Hope they bring as much delight to the reader as they have brought me.

“To be nobody but yourself in a world that's doing its best to make you somebody else, is to fight the hardest battle you are ever going to fight. Never stop fighting.”
E. E. Cummings

“Unless you love someone, nothing else makes any sense.”
E. E. Cummings

“Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph.”
Haile Selassie

“We live in illusion and the appearance of things. There is a reality. We are that reality. When you understand this, you see that you are nothing, and being nothing, you are everything. That is all.”
Kalu Rinpoche

“Looking for peace is like looking for a turtle with a mustache: You won't be able to find it. But when your heart is ready, peace will come looking for you.”
Ajahn Chah

“Open your eyes, look within. Are you satisfied with the life you're living?”
Bob Marley

“Remember, remember always that all of us, and you and I especially, are descended from immigrants and revolutionists”
Franklin D. Roosevelt

“When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.”
Jimi Hendrix

“We can't solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them.”
Albert Einstein

“It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity.”
Albert Einstein

“Few are those who see with their own eyes and feel with their own hearts.”
Albert Einstein

“You're not supposed to be so blind with patriotism that you can't face reality. Wrong is wrong, no matter who says it.”
Malcolm X

“I'm for truth, no matter who tells it. I'm for justice, no matter who it's for or against.”
Malcolm X

“If you're not ready to die for it, put the word ''freedom'' out of your vocabulary.”
Malcolm X

“Workers of the world unite; you have nothing to lose but your chains.”
Karl Marx

“I am not a Hindu,
Nor a Muslim am I!
I am this body, a play
Of five elements; a drama
Of the spirit dancing
With joy and sorrow.”
Kabir

“It is the mind that makes the body.”
Sojourner Truth

One year in Cambodia

Time has flown by and though it seems somewhat unreal to me, I have now been living in Cambodia for one year. From the first few months of living in Traing district, Takeo province without electricity or indoor plumbing to my current home in Maung Russey district, Battambang province it has been an interesting experience so far. Whether it is something as simple as greeting someone new or more complex normative social beliefs, Cambodia is certainly very different from everything I was accustomed to in Augusta, Georgia. As a new group of Peace Corps Volunteers enters the country this week I am struck by the fact that things that once seemed strange and foreign to my Western mind now seem ordinary and everyday.

There is little Western context for some of the discussions I have had here on a fairly regular basis. For example it is common to be asked if you believe in ghosts. At first this may seem to be a childish question that offers little insight into the people as a collective, but as time progresses the fallacy of this first impression becomes apparent. In a country thirty one years removed from a genocide that claimed the lives of millions there is a certain inexpressible something that lingers in the atmosphere of Cambodia. Most commonly I am asked about ghosts by teenagers who were born after the genocide and saw limited amounts of the civil war that followed the Khmer Rouge's forced evacuation of Phnom Penh. These teenagers have hears the stories of family members and know of many of the atrocities that occurred, yet in they seem to have a certain amount of disbelief as if they don't believe that their fellow countrymen are/were capable of such things. In Takeo I was told that I lived down the street from a unmarked mass grave and the belief in ghosts was fairly high I gathered from the limited conversations I had with the people around me. As time has passed I have set aside the horror movie idea of ghosts for one that I find far more real and frightening. From hearing what I thought was initially a silly question, I have come to believe that there are ghosts throughout Cambodia. These ghosts are the unresolved traumas of a people that have seen and experienced too much; these ghosts inhabit every aspect of the alcoholic men forced to watch their family members killed or starved to death when they were ten years old. Ghosts torment the mothers who have been told that the only way to survive is to remain quiet and subservient in their daily lives. These ghosts feed on the suffering of the young women pushed into prostitution because of economic desperation; the young men who rape and abuse these women are haunted by the same ghosts that have made them unable or unwilling to see their own inhumanity and hatred. The common image of ghosts here is a disembodied head that is in search of a body to feed upon and the reality is just that; the great suffering to which everyone above the age of thirty was forced to endure still inhabits the minds of most in one way or another and seeks peace in the only way it knows, more destruction of self and others. Pchum Ben is the holiday in which the people make offerings to the ghosts of their ancestors and believe that they can ease any suffering of their ancestors in the process. No other Theravada Buddhist country celebrates this day, but in a land of ghosts, disembodied spirits of suffering and pain, it makes sense. While last year I simply observed the holiday as an outsider, this year I will make offerings for those ghosts haunting the living and the dead.

The ideas of material gain and success that I grew up thinking were the norm for every society have been proven false from my perspective. In a malnutrition and preventable illness kill many people every year, I see no value in having a big home, SUV, and televisions in every room. These things aren't bad nor are the people that want these things, but for me they are ways we use to escape the suffering of the rest of the world around us. For example, I don't have to think about the homeless man sleeping outside the local church when I am watching American Idol. Even now I feel that I am too far removed from all the pain around me. The true value of expensive clothing is not lost on me when I know that a pair of jeans in America could easily feed a Cambodian family for a week. Is looking nice more important than their hunger? This is what I ask myself and even now living on a volunteer allowance (far from a salary) I find myself feeling guilty for too much self indulgence when those near me are struggling to have just enough. There is a pronounced difference between the "have's" and the "have not's" in Cambodia and I have no interest in becoming part of the former if it means denying the latter. Too often this is what the price of "success" is and I now hope for something different. In reference to the ghosts of the last paragraph, it seems clear to me that seeking my own material gain while denying assistance to those with little or nothing is inhumane and continues the feeding cycle of those rapacious spirits.

Certainly I have noticed far more changes in myself and differences between life in my childhood home and now in Cambodia, but at the moment they hardly feel worth mentioning. The most important aspects of my experience in Cambodia are inadequately worded in the last two paragraphs and I don't have any desire to lessen or cheapen those observations with some of the more obvious differences. It may seem corny to some, I know I would have thought of it that way at another point in my life, but I find myself always adding "Peace and love" when ever I am communicating with anyone via the internet; this has a distinct reason. That is what is needed here and by "here" I mean in Cambodia, America, all over the world, within yourself, and within me. Everything that is truly beneficial to others and ourselves flows from peace and love and until we have these in abundance we will all be haunted by our own ghosts to varying degrees.

New collection of thoughts in the form of a poem...

I forgot my story

In the sight of you
there was a space in time where I forgot myself;
all the stories of who I am, what I want/need/like/believe,
all conception of class, race, ethnicity, gender, sexual preferences, political affiliation
all fears and hopes, fantasy and fact,
fell away instantaneously in that moment.
Without identity, the only thing left breathing was an agonizing love,
a cellular wailing
that fully recognized the tears of my brothers and sisters as my own.
In the face of famine our spirit starves,
in genocide dies,
in homelessness is without refuge,
in exploitation is raped and beaten,
in poverty is without resource,
in prejudice is hated and unwanted.
In the sight of your face, in that moment,
all truth was made known and I rejoiced from soles to soul,
complete in the reality that my soul and your soul was our soul…

Life's thank you list...

Too often in life I feel like I take for granted those aspects of my life that I value. Over the years my life has been altered for the better by many many individuals and this is a short list of people to whom I am immensely grateful for their contribution to my life. Many of these people probably have no idea how much they have benefited me. Some of them I don't even know particularly well, but they have aided me none the less. I have never met a few of the people listed but I have found so much meaning in their lives that I feel compelled to mention them. Here is a brief and far from exhaustive thank you list for those people who have impacted my life and how their influence has shaped me. (I am omitting family members, simply because I have a relatively large family for whom no amount of praise is enough. My focus here is to thank those who may be unaware of how grateful I am, whereas hopefully my family members know that they are a major source of blessing and inspiration in my life.) So here we go...

Mrs. McBurney and a few other teachers- one of many elementary and junior high school teachers who had endless patience and needed discipline for me. I can clearly hear her say to me "Philip, your actions thunder so loudly that I can not hear what you say." I am thankful that she taught me that it is my actions that tell the world who I am and not the words coming out of my mouth. By extension, she taught me that living my gratitude is not the same as saying that I am grateful. She and several other teachers planted seeds of an ethical/moral/spiritual nature throughout my youth that took many years to grow in the infertile land of my childhood stubbornness. As a teacher in Cambodia now, I can only hope to be a small fraction as effective as these teachers were.

Hanson Carter and family (and an extended cast of characters)- for spending countless hours with me when I was quite lost in the world. Always kind and open they taught me about loving people as they are with little to no expectations placed upon them. They played an instrumental part in removing a lot of the hindrances in my spiritual life. Their actions remind me that there is a big difference between calling myself Buddhist and acting with the love and compassion that the Buddha did. Their faith in Jesus showed me that the label of my faith is not nearly as important as actually living the message of love.

Dr. Micheal Schwartz- for continually pushing me to challenge my assumptions and beliefs. For handing me the hammer that broke down a lot of mental barriers to growth.For teaching the truths that don't always feel good to hear and showing me that it isn't necessary to run from those truths.

Dr. Alan Scarboro- for letting me continually sharpen my small ideas of society through discussion and debate. No matter how many arguments of mine he disproved, I always walked away from classes feeling like I had really learned something bigger.The way he taught social stratification and allowed me to debate it still shapes how I view much of the world around me. The way he presented labor movements and class discrimination reminds me that I am a part of the global community and therefore have an active role to play in challenging the accepted norms of injustice and inequality. I can remember him saying "We don't bring down the pillars of injustice all at once, we chip away at them over time." (paraphrased, because the way he said it sounded cooler)

Leesa,Betsy, Bryan, Henry, Owen, Jeff, Melanie, Kristin, John and countless other friends- for embracing the quirky ideas and beliefs I tend to have and celebrating those aspects of who I am that are often misunderstood. For pushing to improve themselves and encouraging me to do the same. For being themselves unabashedly and (seemingly) unafraid, doing their best to be true to themselves.

Gilbert- for helping me to find my way to where I am now one step at a time. Always willing to tell me the truth no matter how much I disagree. For teaching me to do the hard stuff.

Lama Surya Das, Khen Rinpoche, Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche, Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche, the monks of Wat Santidham, and countless other teachers- for teaching how to be a Buddha rather than a Buddhist. For having a seemingly inexhaustible wealth of wisdom, compassion, love, and equanimity and assuring me that I can too if I do the work.

H.H. the 14th Dalai Lama and H.H. the 17th Karmapa- for being beyond words. You bring peace and hope in the midst of seeming despair. For being selfless in a selfish time.

Corey- for always being able to help me laugh at my mistakes and forgiving my arrogance. Your friendship has made some of my best times better and some of my worst times more bearable. For always being my closest friend no matter what disagreements we may have or being separated by thousands of miles.

Rodney- for teaching me to view spirituality through a different lens that embraces rather than differentiates. For helping me learn that I have not/will not "arrive" or "get there" and stopping is not a real option. For helping clarify my vision enough that even when I try to walk away from it I cannot.

Andy and Patrick- for showing me a picture of myself in many ways. For helping me to believe that I can make a difference and providing me with a reason to continue to put forth an effort.

Malcolm X- after years of teaching racial segregation he had the humility and integrity to say he was wrong in front of a global audience after making the Hajj to Mecca. This teaches me that fighting injustice in the world in a meaningful way requires a deep commitment to honesty, integrity, and humility.

Nameless ex-girlfriends- for allowing me to learn what commitment and partnership is supposed to be about and for having the wisdom to let me know when I was quite obviously missing the point. I am a better man because of your unwillingness to put up with some of my boyish ways.

All the PCV's in Cambodia- for seeing many aspects of life far more clearly than I do and allowing me to benefit from your vision and service.For sharing an experience that would be quite lonely without your friendship.

So many friends and acquaintances over the years- for allowing me to learn through your example and the opportunity to share in your joy and sorrow.

This list is sooooo far from being complete that it is only reflects a fraction of those people to whom I am grateful. If you have taken the time to read this list I owe you a debt of gratitude simply because you have allowed me have a voice. If you didn't read this list, I find a sense of gratitude for reminding me that I am not special or unique; I am one among many.

Another quick poem on consumerism during economic crisis

I have been learning a lot about some of the economic forces at play that caused the housing and economic crisis in America. It has left me with some strong impressions and rather than attempting to put those factors into a long and in-depth format I thought I would just throw out a series of quick thoughts that relate to the economic picture as a whole.

We the People

broken and beaten
the flat screen television set democracy of tomorrow promises less than we have today
but it is convenient and packaged to sell
“ultra” “new” “improved” “20% more”
I don’t want my mtv anymore
corporate giants eat profits and people with a quarterly bonus
rise up and go shop at Walmart, you have the right to savings
it costs nothing but a sixteen hour work day for a 14 year old girl in Indonesia
feeling frustrated, confused, economically dwarfed and downtrodden…
maybe I suffer from class depression
maybe I haven’t had my daily allowance of high fructose corn syrup
no need to hedge those bets on derivatives spawned by these words, most don’t read and those who do say “that’s nice” and continue on… bargain shoppers have no need to consume what comes freely
educated to death, noose like student loans strangle hope
keep telling me that one day I can be president
make the nightmare of nine to five poverty feel like a dream
but don’t wake me, I have to work in the morning
land of the free to choose from the “extra value” meal while texting from my car
this home of the brave has been foreclosed upon
30 days and nowhere to go

A quick poem about gender inequality and the sex industry in Cambodia

Defiled Immaculacy

little sister dancing in the rice paddy
smiles shyly dropping head to shoulder
meeting unknown with curious caution, timid and excited in newness
slowly browning white school shirt symbolizing the possibilities of its owners eyes
in dreams and memories hold tight these moments
these times little sister are who you are and nothing less
dancing in the sun, smiling shyly, you are Immaculate without effort or reason
the gentle nature of your eyes brings peace and love to the troubled hearts and minds of those who know how to see
down the street and around the corner… men raise drunken eyes
haunted by ghosts of hungers and thirsts
looking past the object in western wear and makeup
to the next conquest of violence called love
poisoning meaning by motivation
brother see Immaculacy dancing in the sun and smiling shyly behind the mask of dancing and smiling
behind the mascara, under the dense growth of broken promises and unheard cries lies the peaceful destroyer of hungry ghosts
only in banishing ghosts in the sight of Immaculacy can you begin to free her from the lies of experience

Top 5 things missed about the South

This is a brief list of things I miss or just appreciate about growing up in the South...

1. Food- grits, fried chicken, greens, BBQ sauce, butter biscuits, squash, butter beans, fried shrimp, Brunswick stew, catfish stew, fried okra, black eyed peas, gumbo, jambalaya, peach cobbler, apple pie, the list goes on and on. There is no one style of Southern cooking as you have styles such as Gullah Gullah, Cajun, Creole, Low Country, Native American, and several others. Growing up in the South these various styles blend together at the dinner table and you don't think "Oh this is from the Carolina low country, but this dish is from the Louisiana gulf area..." Instead you get a powerful meal that isn't focused on health consciousness nearly as much as it is focused on making sure the ingredients bring out the best possible flavors. There is a reason folks get big in the South; we cook with Crisco, lard, fatback, smoked neck bones and wings, bacon drippings, real butter, salt pork, and other cholesterol filled, flavor packing ingredients.

2. Southern accents- people from other parts of the English speaking world act like I am the one who speaks in a funny way. Come on now, don't tell me that a simple phrase like "I ain't ate yet, but I'm fixing too. I'll give yall a holla when I'm done." is confusing. Southerners speak slow because we don't want to have to translate it for those of you that don't understand. I miss hearing folks speak the right way. People in the South speak in a manner that has a bit of soul and humility built right in to our pronunciation.

3. NASCAR- I don't even like NASCAR but I like people who do. Seeing a fully grown woman with 3 kids and a mortgage get excited about Dale Jr. winning the pole is just funny to me. For a sport that consists of little more than a lot of left turns and loud engines, people get fanatical in their devotion. Kevin Harvick, Dale Jr., Jeff Gordon, Dale Jarrett, Mark Martin, and any other number of drivers have no special importance to me, but after a while you just get used to seeing people wearing Budweiser hats with the number 8 on them or Tide t-shirts or any other number of corporate sponsors. NASCAR is a sub-culture within Southern culture and though I am uninitiated I miss those funny folks back home who after a few Natty Lites might punch you in the mouth if you say something bad about the Intimidator.

4. Walking around in a Walmart after midnight- Sounds a little odd right? Go to Wallieworld after midnight and look around. I don't even buy anything when I go, it is a trip made for sheer entertainment value. There are some free-spirited styles of dress all over the world, but nothing quite competes with the run-away fashion sense displayed in a Walmart after dark. Want to see a plus size lady in neon green elastic pants, red open toed shoes that have been customized with a Bedazzler, with a American flag patterned midriff shirt? Make the trip. Want to see a man dressed completely in camouflage hunting gear and sporting a mullet hair cut walking around like he is Bill Gates and has the power to buy and sell whatever he wants whenever he wants? This man is confidence on steroids and he shops at Walmart after midnight. He will probably be hopping out of his girlfriend's mid-80's pickup that has been customized with either a sticker or airbrush art on the back window with a picture of Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes urinating on either a Chevy or Ford logo. If you strike up a conversation with this gentleman he may show you his Tasmanian devil (cartoon character) tattoo that he got when he was 16 because he wanted to "express himself and have something original that represents him." Guys of this general description are all over the South and generally they are friendly good natured men, but if there is a sale on Walker Texas Ranger DVD sets or commemorative plates in the back of the store do not get in this man's way under any circumstances. Folks like this make shopping after midnight the only time I want to shop.

5. County folk influence- I don't mean good old boys or "rednecks" here; I am talking about the influence of folks that aren't that far removed from a small town mentality where the pace of living is leisurely, the purpose of asking how someone is doing is to actually find out how they are doing, your dog be it a Chihuahua or a Black Lab is a your buddy and friend not an accessory, and you treat your elders with respect because they are your elders. These are the people that don't understand Hollywood fashion or feng shui, but if your momma gets a flat tire on the side of the interstate they will pull over and help her change the tire because it is the right thing to do. Country folk tend to not be overly complex and don't put a lot of esteem in book knowledge, but don't be fooled these folks know some things that you can only learn by sitting on a front porch and drinking lemonade with them on a Sunday afternoon. Don't get me wrong, I am not country folk since I was born and raised in Augusta, GA which is a far cry from Cornelia,GA but I am influenced by country folks. It's country folk that are most represented on this list. You may live in the heart of mid-town Atlanta and dress in the newest clothes, but when you sit down at a bar in Buckhead and order fried shrimp and beer battered onion rings, you have country folks to thank for bringing you that meal. When you are planning a business lunch and you have the caterer serve up a variety of Po'boys you have country folk to thank. Whether you are listening to Alan Jackson or Outkast, you can thank country folk for perfecting the Southern drawl that makes their delivery just right and the slang of the South for making their music stand apart from similar artists in California or New York. From the lady living out at a horse stable in the country to the head of orthopedic surgery in a major hospital, if you were born and raised in the South you have been shaped and molded in many ways by country folks and that is a good thing.

Random thoughts on living in a developing country...

This is a quick and far from thorough guide to a few things you can expect living in Cambodia (with some exceptions being made for Phnom Penh and Siem Reap town).

First, you are going to get sick....you are going to get sick a lot and it is going to be painful. Diarrhea will be your constant companion for the first couple months, once it finally goes away you can expect it to revisit you at least once on a monthly basis. Dengue fever, giardia (caused my ingesting fecal matter), internal parasites, sinus infections from living in a dust filled environment, and constant lethargy due to the unending and inescapable heat are normal. You will not live here for long without experiencing some or all of these.

Second, bathrooms are a necessity, but don't expect anything too comfortable. Unlike their Western counterparts, bathrooms in Cambodia usually consist of a hole in the ground with a porcelain bowl over which you squat. They usually empty into a river, stream, or lake via pvc pipes. Because of this they are not suitable for toilet paper, hence you won't have any. What you will have is a small bucket and a reservoir of water. Unless you came prepared, you most likely will not have any soap. Come prepared! Wiping is accomplished through a an experiential learning process that focuses on leaning and pouring water at the proper angles. It should be noted that we don't really use our left hand for much social interaction as this is customarily the hand used for anything that is considered unclean. The bathroom conditions should be considered in light of my first observation (you will get sick a lot).

Third, if you are living in a rural area or any area in which there are not many tourists (basically anywhere outside of a provincial town), you will become an instant celebrity. Sounds kinda cool right? Nope! It sucks. Think of it this way, you have had diarrhea for two days and you are convinced that the local market is trying to kill you by spiking all of the produce with laxatives. It dawns on you that you should go buy some more soap and some bland food (see "Rice"). You step out the door trying to keep in mind a certain time frame so that you can make it back home the next time your stomach declares war and rises up in revolt. You make it about half way to the roadside stand where you can buy soap and you have already had "Hello" yelled to you by 15 well intentioned but star struck Khmer children. Once you get to your destination and negotiate the purchase of soap, you are greeted like most stars to an endless barrage of questions such as "Have you eaten rice today? Where do you go? Do you have wife? Girlfriend? How old are you? Why do you come to Cambodia? How much money do you make? What state are you from? Can I learn English with you? Where is your home? Can I have your phone number? What do you do in your free time? Do you want to marry a Khmer woman/man?" The list of questions does not end.... really it doesn't. Meanwhile you are plotting your getaway to buy rice when your constant companion, intestinal discomfort and pain, reappears. You make your escape to the rice seller's stand (Note: there are no "merchants" only seller's) and are greeted by the murmur of everyone in sight. Comments on how beautiful (determined here by skin color) you are come pouring in and there is no shortage of compliments or critiques. As you determine which of the 5 types of rice you want to buy, you realize your stomach can't maintain discipline and order much longer so you pick some rice and get home as fast as you can. What should have been 10 minute errands have turned into a labor intensive sea of attention that can take anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour. All the while you feel sick and continually hear the same questions and comments in a foreign language you barely understand. Being an instant superstar gets old quick...

Fourth, you are having rice for dinner. And lunch. And breakfast. Everyday. Really you are. Occasionally you will get a break from the norm and have noodles, but come on Cambodia is an agriculturally based society. Around 90% of the overall population makes their living as from farming and the number one crop is rice by far. For breakfast you have baubau which is basically soggy rice in water with or without additional seasoning. For lunch you may have beef (imagine jerky with a slightly burnt flavor or chewy fat depending on the dish prepared) with some vegetables and rice. Maybe pork or chicken, but rice is guaranteed. Dinner will be similar to lunch but there will be an expectation for you to eat a larger quantity of it because rice it is essential to Khmer people that you eat huge quantities of rice. It should be noted that the quality if the rice here is far superior to the rice I was familiar with in America. Uncle Ben's has nothing on rice from Cambodia. After a few weeks, you long to go a few days without rice. After a few months and maybe some time in a provincial city where there are non-rice options you may find yourself missing rice. Not everyone feels this way, but generally after a day or two without rice it becomes missed. If you don't like rice for whatever reasons, Cambodia is not the place for you.

Fifth, if you want a refined culinary experience go somewhere else. If you want a unique culinary experience we have you covered. Local markets carry lots of fish, beef, pork, and chicken. In addition to these we have plenty of dog, snake, frog, bird, insect,and various rodent meats to choose from. Keep in mind that refrigeration is nearly unheard of so most of these items that may make their way to your dinner table have been sitting in the insanely hot sun until you came by and purchased them. Making your selection is easy though, simply swat away the cloud of flies hovering over the meat sellers table and choose away. Feeling adventuresome? Try some snake on a stick, waterbug (imagine large cockroaches but more moist), large winged ants, crickets, fried spiders (larger than tarantulas), or similar delicacies; all of these are available in provincial towns and to a lesser extent in district towns. Some are quite good, some are not....there is only one way to find out. Personally, I eat frog as often as possible and find it to be delicious and nothing like chicken. At this point I am fairly certain that if I saw Kermit the Frog in one of the Jim Henson Muppet movies my salivary glands would kick into overdrive. Please remember my first observation. Fruits and vegetables are diverse and plentiful in Cambodia with an assortment of selections that I had previously never seen or heard of in the States. I won't go into much detail but sowmow, mein, dragonfruit, and several others must be tried. The one fruit that I will give some description of is durian. Durian is highly popular in Cambodia and other parts of Southeast Asia. It smells like a dead body left in muggy heat to rot indefinitely. It has the taste of a mixture between raw onions, cream cheese, and grape fruit. The texture of the edible section generally resembles custard or a thick pudding with a slight dough-like quality. For most Westerners the smell of durian does not make you want to eat it, the taste confirms the suspicions of the nose, and the texture adds an air or mystery. Try it, it builds character (or so I tell myself). It's awful but much like a car accident grabs your attention and won't let you look away, durian is horrendous but once you try it for some reason you find yourself thinking "maybe it isn't quite as bad as I remember...." It is.

This is only a short list, but there will be more to come in the future...

Overview of a normal day in Maung Russey

This is a rough estimation of what I am doing at any given point on a normal day in Maung Russey. Everything here is subject to change as there is no school on holidays or if it is raining. The holiday point may seem obvious but Cambodia is has more holidays than any other country (or so I have heard) and they are not usually clearly announced. You may show up to school just to discover a few teachers sitting around playing cards without a student in sight because it is a random holiday... Anyway here is a rough schedule:

5:30am - 7:00am Wake up, shower, eat breakfast, and ride my bike to school.

7:00am - 11:00am Teach 2 classes of 11th or 12th grade students for 2 hours each.

11:00am - 1:00 pm Lunch, possible nap, or household chores such as washing clothes

1:00pm - 3:00pm Ride my bike to the market to buy vegetables, rice, noodles, household items,etc. Meet with my Khmer language tutor on certain days.

3:00pm - 4:45pm Teach at a local NGO or just spend time there discussing issues with the young people or staff members.

5:00pm - 6:00pm Teach remedial English to a group of poor students ranging in age from 4 to 16 years old. This is often the highlight of my day as these students are a joy.

6:00pm - 7:30pm Varies, but may ride to the local pagoda to hang out with students and various people in the community. Sometimes I run errands that I didn't get to earlier.

7:30pm - 11:00pm Cook dinner, clean up, shower, read, maybe watch a movie on my laptop, and try not to be consumed by the huge mosquito population.

11:00pm-ish Climb under my mosquito net and go to bed, sometimes earlier sometimes later depending on what I need to do the following day.

No two days in Cambodia, or anywhere else for that matter, are exactly alike but over time the days start to run together and what once felt unique and foreign begins to seem normal. The first time you are woken up by blaring Khmer music at 5:00am it is a bit of a shock and rather disorienting, but the 30th time it happens it is just a common annoyance that is a normal event in Cambodian society. Having a party? Getting married? Is it a holiday? Do you want to celebrate something just for the hell of it? If so, there will be a large tent set up in a local street and music will blare from 5am until about 11pm. This is happening somewhere in my town on a daily basis or every other day. If the celebration takes place within a half kilometer of my home, I can forget about sleeping or not having a headache; if the party is going on further away I can hear the music in the distance and rejoice in the fact that it isn't going to be a constant agony to listen to it all day.

Again, this is a general idea of my day and a small taste of some of the challenges found in Cambodia. Honestly, my challenges are quite insignificant compared to my Khmer neighbors who battle far more difficult circumstances on a daily basis, but that discussion is for a future blog.

Overdue but finally here.... my first blog about life in Cambodia

My name is Philip and I am a Peace Corps Volunteer living in Maung Russey district, Battambang province, Cambodia. Starting this blog seems like a good idea to relate my experiences and ideas, but to be honest I am not sure what to say since my everyday life in Cambodia is just that, everyday life. It should go without saying that initially I experienced a certain amount of culture shock upon arriving in Cambodia. Learning to live in stifling heat and monsoon season torrential rains, showering with dirty collected rain water, eating rice for multiple meals everyday, and living in an agricultural based community as the only foreigner and native English speaker all presented me with a steady period of readjustment. Learning a language, Khmer, that is grammatically incomparable to English and that I am not particularly good at makes learning to live with these changes and differences even more of a challenge because my ability to express myself and my difficulties becomes extremely limited. In many ways this is an experiment in learning how to forge a way to maintain my own sanity while simultaniously remembering that my primary motivation for being here is not about me; I came here to help others. I have asked for all of these difficulties in one way or another, but getting what I ask for is something totally different.

I have been in Cambodia with the Peace Corps K3 team for about 10 months now and many of those aspects of Cambodian culture that once shocked me have now started to become normalized, though many are far from justified. Gender inequality, corruption, race based discrimination , huge income disparities, and violence against women are parts of Cambodia that I simply couldn't believe at first, but as time goes on I see the reality of these phenomena more and more within the framework of Khmer society. Obviously, these generalities are not characteristics shared by most Khmer people but these factors do have a constant role in Cambodian society. Opening up the Cambodia Daily newspaper and reading any of the crime reports will give a simple but common example of gender inequality within Cambodia. Rape and domestic violence are crimes in Cambodia in which the victims (women) are made to feel responsible and are socially stigmatized because they have lost their "purity." This is a widespread attitude that continually dis-empowers women as individuals and as contributing members of a delicately balanced society. On the other hand, the young women of Cambodia are the true backbone of the society as a whole. Young women here raise children, manage finances, pass on tradition, and provide a support system for men that is somewhat foreign in the West. The women of Cambodia are generally humble, modest, industrious, and strong. The social cognitive dissonance on the importance and value of women within Cambodia and the reality of how many are forced to live as second class citizens is just one example of how living in Cambodia has challenged me to see things differently. For me, it is important to notice these things and to help establish a social dialogue that brings about an honest analysis of these phenomena by Cambodians so that they can assess their own values and challenge those social norms that do not reflect justice. As a foreigner it does no good for me to say "That's not right. This must change." because the message is lost, but in my role as a teacher and community member if I can influence those around me to question, reassess, and challenge injustice the social impact has the potential for true change.