Cambodia, Goodnight

Through the generosity of the Virginia G. Piper Charitable Trust, I came to Phnom Penh three weeks ago to experience life in an Asian country – ostensibly to better understand and serve Asian immigrants in the Phoenix area. Tonight, I will be on a flight out of Phnom Penh for my journey home.

Having now completed my volunteer assignment, I find I have developed a special place in my heart for Cambodia and its people. For anyone who has ever been to Cambodia, this is no surprise. The Cambodian people are unfailingly cheerful, warm and welcoming. Though it’s unlikely that I will ever return, for three weeks I had the honor and privilege of working with local people doing their best to give kids living in the worst slums of Phnom Penh a fighting chance to avoid child trafficking and to escape a deeply embedded cycle of poverty.

Working shoulder-to-shoulder with Riverkids staff members was particularly embracing. It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes (from Lila Watson, an Australian activist):

If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time. However, if your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.

If my participation in a four-day health workshop made even a small difference in the lives of these children, then it was well worth the effort – for them and me. I know that I am much changed for the experience.

So, what have I learned?

I could quote some statistics about HIV incidence, life expectancy and infant mortality and how poorly Cambodia is doing in this regard and perhaps offer some recommendations. But I think I will leave that for others more qualified and knowledgeable.

My insights tend to surround life in Phnom Penh. It is 40,000 motorcyclists and tuk tuks weaving in and out of the morning traffic, bypassing the fat cats in their shiny new SUVs and sedans. It is the smell of chicken on a neighborhood grill at 7 am, and a couple of doors down a lady on her haunches doing the morning’s laundry in a big steel bowl. It is steamed rice with almost every meal and a brown out almost every afternoon. It is a welcome breeze or a little cloud cover on a sweltering afternoon. It is a steady stream of laughter, music, barking dogs, and motorcycle engines until 2 in the morning – every morning, everywhere.

In the final analysis, I think I learned a simple truth: that there is dignity in forgiving the past, living a day at a time, eking out an honest existence, and enjoying each other’s company along the way. I think this is the genius of the Cambodian people and will serve them well for many years to come.

I want to thank all those that have followed me on this journey. I’m sure that I have not adequately captured the life and spirit of the Cambodian people, but maintaining a journal has allowed me an opportunity to catalog and reflect. Your encouragement has sustained me in the odd moment of frustration and weariness. I would take this chance in my last entry to ask a favor.

Riverkids is often the only source of health care for many of the residents of the communities they serve. Before I left, I asked Nurse Borin if she could use any supplies or equipment. She mentioned simple things like a blood pressure machine, thermometers, a glucometer, vitamin supplements, and a few over-the-counter medications. Please go to the Riverkids website, www.riverkidsproject.org, and make a small donation. I have asked that donations from the United States over the next few weeks go specifically for medical equipment and supplies for Nurse Borin. A little bit of money can go a long way in offering just a minimal level of health care in the poorest areas of Phnom Penh. Thanks!