Politics in Cambodia

Politics are a funny thing. People have such strong opinions, even over here where the ruling party has stayed in power for decades. 

Recently there was an election here. The results were highly debated, since the ruling party is known for pulling nasty tricks. In the end, they won, yet again. The official (UN sanctioned) tally was just reported. Hopefully now things will settle back to normal, well- a Cambodian normal.

My friend, Heather Korm, said it best, so I'll just quote her.

    "Following the announcement of the official results this morning (which saw no change – the CPP won 68 seats and the CNRP 55), the CNRP have announced three days of protests on the 15th, 16th and 17th of September.  It’s unclear at the moment whether these will be three separate protests or a 72 hour demonstration.  One quote from the CNRP press release says that the protests “could take a variety of forms, the form of a meeting, the form of a sit-in or the form of marches.”  So another round of staying at home with a store full of food, hoping nothing happens.  

         The roads around Hun Sen’s house [the Prime Minister] remain closed off and police presence remains high.  But hopefully we now have a week’s grace until things have the potential to go crazy again, unless people start to get bored of the game and take matters into their own hands.

        In related news, three monks were beaten by their pagoda superiors for joining the protests, whilst several of Hun Sen’s sons managed to secure seats in parliament despite losing according to the preliminary results."

A Land Full of Compliments

A pale girl in Cambodia can really rack up the compliments. It’s nearly a daily occurrence for me to hear, “Wow. You’re so white.” It’s a compliment by Cambodian standards. (Funny that the same phrase in America means something very different.)

Being that I am a very pale Anglo-Saxon American, I gotten quite a few compliments in my time. I tried to keep up with how many times a day that I was told that I was beautiful (or “sah-at”). The highest I ever got, was five compliments in one day. Can I tell you… that can really make a girl love a country. Hearing that you’re beautiful all the time is definitely one of the perks of living here. 

My favorite compliment was given by a store clerk who tried to tell me that I looked like a baby. I kept asking him what he meant, but I couldn’t understand why he would say I looked like a baby. Finally he said, “You know, like baby doll.” Okay! I look like a baby doll? I’m going to ahead and assume he meant Barbie doll. Either way the compliment was a commentary on my pale skin, big eyes, and red lips. Apparently, what makes a girl pretty is light skin, light eyes and red lips (or make-up, colored contacts, and lipstick). 

Recently the compliments have declined. I wear less make-up and the Cambodian sun has darkened my skin. Now I hear far less “beautiful” comments, but this week someone else said that I looked like a doll. This time I knew exactly what they meant!

I even have a red-headed friend (and thus very pale) who was once pulled over by a policeman. When she asked the officer what she had done wrong, he said nothing. He told her that he stopped her so that he could tell her that she was beautiful. 

My stunning beauty (aka, my pale face) has even gotten a bus driver out of a ticket once. I was sitting in the front seat of a mini-bus when the police pulled the driver over. I didn’t really understand what the driver had done wrong, but the policeman was staring at me the whole time he was talking to the driver. I was annoyed by the staring, so I refused to make eye-contact. Eventually I noticed that the talking had stopped and everyone was staring at me. I gave the policeman a smart-aleck smile, that was supposed to mean, I see you staring. Instead the policeman was so happy that I smiled at him, that he told the driver he didn’t need to pay the fine. He then pointed to me and said, “I like. You…”And made the hand gesture for smiling. My friend and I laughed the whole way back to Phnom Penh about the instance. Who would have thought that a smile could get someone else out of a traffic ticket?

 

Don’t worry. These compliments aren’t going to my head. Beauty is a strange thing. In American dark skin is beautiful. In Mauritania, obese women are attractive. In Cambodia, people want pale skin. In the end, it makes you wonder if anyone is right or is everyone wrong? If beauty is so subjective, does it really matter at all?

(Pictures taken from Google Images) 

Trash and Rubbish Everywhere

In Cambodia it's very difficult to find a trash can. Cambodians are always throwing their rubbish on the ground. They don't have bins sitting around like you'd see in a developed nation. I have even watched my neighbors walk out of their house to dump their trash in the road or the field across the street from their house.

I recently asked a Cambodian if it was a lack of knowledge. I had figured that Cambodians simply don’t understand the composition process and the science behind recycling. Nope. She said that Cambodians are taught in school that if you throw plastic down on the ground that it will be there forever. So why the constant litter? Even today - a water bottle was thrown out of a moving vehicle and nearly hit me in the head.

While the biodegradable products eventually fade from view, the plastic bags and candy wrappers remain forever.  Still, you can imagine the smell.Outside of restaurants and hotels is the worst. They dump their trash (correctly for the proper collectors to pick up in the morning), but someone inevitably will scatter the food materials when they open the bags to search for cans and bottles. Cans and bottles are the only materials that are recycled. Turning them in will be rewarded with about $0.05.

And then there are the rats…

All in all, the first thing I notice every time I get off an airplane in Cambodia is the smell. Eventually you get used to it, and you stop noticing the smell. But the beautiful countryside littered with ugly old plastic is always as disturbing sight.

Selfish in a New Way

Selfishness takes on unique forms in another culture. Selfishness in America is easy to spot. It’s the guy with an Audi who won’t give spare change to the homeless man on the corner. It’s the jerk who steals your parking spot after you waited patiently for grandma to pull out of it. But move to a new country, and selfishness takes on new forms. It doesn’t look the same.

Cambodia is place enveloped with selfishness, understandably so because of its cruel history. It’s easy to understand why the people are opportunistic when you know how hard many of them fought to stay alive 40 years ago and the violent acts they witnessed during that time. The Khmer Rouge killed 2 million people in cold blood in front of their family and friends. Clearly the consequence of such horror, is to protect yourself and your family. That “save yourself” mentality still has not died out of the culture.

Everyone has their own way of being selfish, but in a different country it look very different. It's interesting to look around and note the unique forms that selfishness can take in unique cultures.

Transport in Cambodia

The first thing people notice about Cambodia when they visit is the roads. Yes, they are horrible. They are some of the worst I've ever seen in the world. Large potholes, cows meandering down them, and children and dogs jumping out on the streets. It's a veritable death trap. Maybe for you, maybe for the dog, definitely for the rats.

Of course the rats, the dogs, the children, and the cows in the road are weird. But it's the potholes that are disastrous. Just as you dodge a cow, you realize a cow-sized-hole is in the road. Woops... You disappeared into for a few seconds. Sure you keep going, as long as you didn't bounce off the back of the moto into mud (like I once did!).

The number one unique characteristic about Cambodian roads is the CHAOS! Supposedly you are meant to ride on the right side, but "side" of the road is a fluid concept in Cambodia. Most days you can't possibly find one inch of road where everyone is actually driving on the right side of the road. The way it works is that you move where you can... any free inch of road is a possible spot to drive, even if isn't really on the "correct" side of the road. Most newcomers are scared to death of the oncoming traffic coming from all sides.

It's not that difficult to drive. Just never look behind you. If you glance over your shoulder, you might miss the kid running out into the road. So the rule is, Never Look Back. This means people are constantly swerving every which-a-way. Once you get the hang of it, it's not too bad. I will say this- driving in Cambodia makes you the most alert driver in the world!!! You have to watch all directions and be ready for anything (even falling coconuts!).

For older post, check out my former blog.

My old blog:
http://CarrieMarieCordell.blogspot.com/

Living In Cambodia

People think of Cambodia as this place with water buffalo and ancient temples. They imagine that I live in a bamboo hut and eat rice every day. The reality is that much of the world has been globalized. Living in a third world country is much nicer today than it was 20 years ago.  No longer do I need to pump my own water from the well (while I do that some days when the electricity is out). I’m not riding a pony cart into town to collect my groceries at the local market. While I do sometimes buy vegetables at the local market, we have an air-conditioned supermarket that supplies our normal required goods. I drive a motorbike around town, and some wealthier people drive cars. There are stop lights and traffic cops. In general, life in Cambodia doesn’t look too different from life in America. We aren't fishing for our supper here anymore. We can eat in restaurant when the budget allows. We work in air-conditioned offices and have regular pens and notebooks to write on.  Life in Cambodia is not an extreme difference.

That’s the problem. If we were living in huts, eating out of the river, and riding ponies into town, then I would expect to have major cultural barriers. In that situation, I wouldn’t be surprised when a woman tells me that I’m so fat that I must have had 12 babies. I wouldn’t be surprised when a man treats me as an inferior. It’s the illusion of progress, that occasionally tricks me into believe that I’m in a normal country. 

I almost blame the conveniences of life in Cambodia for the hardships of life in Cambodia. If it weren’t for my speedy little motorbike, I wouldn’t be stuck at the mechanics shop trying to convince him that a new battery is better than just waiting for the old battery to die out completely. And if the mechanic didn’t speak English, then I wouldn’t expect him to understand what I’m saying. But there you go… I have the cute motorbike that zips me across town, and I’ve come to expect the convenience of it.  The mechanic can speak English, so why doesn’t he understand the concept I’m explaining!!!!

 

I’m still in a very foreign land. The culture still frustrates me. It still bothers me that the Cambodian beside me at church, turned to stare and laugh at me during worship. It still frustrates me that a Cambodian mechanic would prefer to cut corners than replace the battery for a new one and thus make himself a larger commission. It still irritates me that Cambodian men will not listen to me on any topic other than babies, cooking, cleaning, or America. 

It's the comfortable living that is to blame. If I wasn't so comfortable at a cafe with nice latte, then I wouldn't be so appalled when the power goes off... and stays off for five days. I know I live in a third world country, but sometimes I forget. I stop noticing the little differences, like cows in the roads. The moment you forget that Cambodia is a third world country, BAM! It reminds you!

Five years… I’ve lived in this crazy place for five years, but there are some things that I can never agree to.  I’ll never believe that quick work is better than high quality work. I’ll never agree to sit down and be a meek, mild woman without opinions and thoughts.  There’s culture shock, and then there’s cultural frustrations. The shock goes away after 6 or 9 months. The frustrations may never go away.