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.

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.