Friday, December 14, 2007

Those Darn Kids

Nathan and I have been talking recently about how difficult it is to parent Ellie when she has the intellect of a 6 year old but the emotional maturity of, well, the 4 year old that she is. She constantly surprises us with what she knows and remembers:
  • We were picking out a Bible story the other night and I started near the front, suggesting stories about Moses. She said, "No, I want something from the New Testament." New Testament?? Where did she learn what that was? I asked her what it was and she said, "It's the part about Jesus." Not bad.
  • Yesterday our tour books about Chile arrived and Nathan was showing them to the kids. Ellie recognized pictures of Easter Island and said that she had seen similar photos of the statues on the islands at the Natural History Museum in DC over the summer. Wow. Even I don't remember that.
  • Ellie just showed me how she hung her animals from the stair railings in our house. She explained to me that they are "bat kids" and they are sleeping upside-down like bats.

Now, the trick though, is that she still acts like a 4 year old. She fights with Ben, sometimes refuses to get dressed, doesn't always share, etc. But she sees right past all the traditional parenting tricks. When we give her two choices, rather than choosing between them, she wants to come up with other options she likes better. When we explain that she can't do something because "that's the rule" she'll say, "But you can take the rule away, Daddy." Argh. I guess we should count ourselves lucky to have such problems!

Ben has become incredibly verbal recently and loves to tell stories and chatter away. Despite the fact that we have no toy guns in the house and don't let Ben play violent games, he still turns mailing tubes into swords and legos into guns. He has this plastic stick--I think from either curtains or a play tent--that he uses as a sword, so one night at bed time I knighted him "Sir Ben" with the sword. Ellie wanted to be knighted as a Queen, but I explained I couldn't knight her into being a queen, though she could be "Lady Ellie." She said she wanted to be a knight like Ben, so I thought "Why not?" and knighted her "Sir Ellie." Then, in the middle of the night, Ben starts calling out for me. I somehow convinced Nathan that he should go check on him instead, but Nathan came back saying that Ben wanted only me. When I got into the room, Ben said, "I don't want to be Sir Ben anymore--I just want to be Ben." Aww. So I de-commissioned him on the spot.

Ben also seems to be fixated on talking about killing people. He tends to be very thorough when he gets angry, and will say something like "I'm going to kill you and put you in jail!" Wow--to have even your corpse imprisoned, that's harsh. He also has picked up the bad habit of calling things "stupid". His teachers tell us that other kids (especially boys) in his class do these things and that is where he is getting it from. So we try to have contests to come up with more creative insults and expressions of anger, like "I'm so angry I'm going to make you take a bath in mud!" He dissolves into laughter when we come up with these. His favorite insult for a long time was "You silly old cinnamon roll" though recently he has fallen back on a variation of a classic--"Silly poohpooh mouth boy". This morning, "You silly old wet noodle" was a hit, and Ben loved his latest creation--"silly poohpooh mouth noodle".

Friday, December 07, 2007

A Few Days in Shanghai

Spandes at a pedestrian mall in downtown Shanghai

We started our R&R from Cambodia with a stop in Shanghai. My Oxford friend, Josefine, is posted there as a German diplomat. We had a great time visiting her in Prague when she lived there, but that had been so long ago (seven years!) that since the last time we had seen her she acquired a husband and son!

Chris, Josefine, and baby Karel (in orange) join us for a great dinner out


The kids loved playing with Karel

We had a great time exploring picturesque Yu Yuan Gardens


Ben has a contemplative moment in front of a battered door

Old meets new in rapidly explanding Shanghai

Ten Year Gustavus Reunion

Well, our trip back to the US is long over, but life in Cambodia has been so crazy recently that we haven't had time to do much blogging about it. In a three week period, we had cabinet-level trade talks, hosted three congressional delegations, the Naval commander of the Pacific fleet, a 3,000 person navy ship, and umpteen Assistant Secretaries and other high-level visitors. Phew! We are all exhausted, and with good stories to tell. In the period of one week, I had to tell a cabinet member that she was dressed inappropriately and deal with a sick Senator. So that's what it means in my job description when it says "other duties as assigned"!

Anyhow, here's a go at chipping away at sharing news and photos from our trip back to the US. Our last big event in the US was attending our 10th anniversary reunion at Gustavus. Oddly, we didn't see that many people who weren't in our immediate circle of friends, but it was nice to have a good excuse to see them!

Amber and Marte (always in my mind, known as Marte-girl, but I assume she's moved way past that by now)

There were a few fun surprises--we got to meet Marte's fiance, Don, who has already earned the Spande seal of approval. Rachel's waist was about twice its normal size and she was declining alcohol...hmmm. And we finally got to meet Dan's and Erica's second child, Ethan.

Ellie enjoys the moon bounce

Anna, Ben, Ethan, and Ellie think the stage is a hoot.

The college also foolishly gave me a podium and a captive audience. With degrees in philosophy and political science, they should have known that was a dangerous move. Nonetheless, people seemed to really appreciate what I had to say, and Marissa tells me I even moved someone to tears. Really? Maybe just bad cafeteria food. (Gustavus has a nice write up of the event in the most recent Quarterly: http://gustavus.edu/quarterly/files/current.pdf I'm on page 44.)

They had to use a crowbar to get me down.

Chris Gilbert gave an amazing introduction:

I feel privileged tonight to do this introduction for one of my all-time favorite students. Those of you who have seen Gustavus publications or visited the college website in the last few years have noticed our emphasis on what President Peterson has termed our five core values – justice, service, community, faith, and excellence. Some of you may have collected the complete set of core value buttons from the Gustavus State Fair booth. There are a ton of great stories behind each of those core values. In reviewing everything that Jen Pleuss Spande has accomplished, I’m struck by how her life and work reflect not just one or two, but all five of these values – in her time at Gustavus and in her professional and personal life, she is the embodiment of the qualities that make this college what it is. Most of all, her work reflects excellence, in more ways than I have time to list.

That excellence was apparent to just about everyone who encountered Jen in her four years at Gustavus. Double majors, minors, Curriculum II, a semester in Namibia, a J Term in Costa Rica, student-faculty research, research on her own, two huge competitive national scholarships to pay for graduate school. Just a typical Gustie, right? And in the midst of all this she also met Nathan, an extraordinarily talented person as well. They’ve made a great team for over a decade.

Back in the spring of 1997, Jen’s senior year, the associate dean called our department chair at the time, Norm Walbek, wondering about yet another request for travel funds for Jen to present her research at yet another national political science conference. Not an undergraduate conference, but the real deal. The associate dean pointed out that Gustavus was expending more funds for Jen’s professional travel than for the political science faculty’s travel. Norm pointed out that Jen was writing and presenting more papers than the political science faculty. The money was approved. Jen was one of a handful of extraordinary students from that era whose professional activity put Gustavus on the map nationally as a leader in undergraduate research. It was a lot of fun to travel across the US to witness all of this, and rather odd to have people congratulate me and my colleagues for all the work Jen was doing. My main contribution, as she reminded me yesterday, was to provide Gustavus letterhead stationery so she could apply for all these things.

Jen’s career at Gustavus propelled both her and the college forward in another way, too. In 1996 she was one of 80 college juniors in the nation to earn the Harry S Truman Foundation Scholarship for graduate study; she was the first Gustie to win the award in a decade. Her achievement put us back on the Truman Foundation’s map, and in the decade since she won we have had six more finalists and two more Truman scholarship winners. To this day the annual packet of information from the Truman Foundation arrives with a brief handwritten note on it: “Send us another Jennifer Pleuss.” Two years ago, our most recent finalist had to arrange travel to her Truman interview in Minneapolis; the student was studying that semester in Madagascar. Gustavus was able to pay the costs of her trip because, years before, anticipating exactly this situation since she had experienced it herself, Jen had made a gift to Gustavus specifically designated to assist students with such travel costs.

That level of foresight is an extraordinary quality, one that would serve a person well in just about any vocation. But it seems a particularly appropriate quality for a diplomat to possess, and we shouldn’t be surprised that Jen has become just that. Her Truman led to a Marshall Scholarship, one of just 40 in the U.S. her senior year, and both of these led her to Oxford University where she earned a master’s degree in international relations. After working in for-profit and nonprofit organizations in DC, the U.S. State Department finally wised up in 2002, and Jen joined the foreign service. She has served so far at U.S. embassies in Mexico and now in Cambodia, where last year she received the 2006 Award for Excellence in Labor Diplomacy from the departments of State and Labor. Today Jen serves in the Political and Economic Section of the U.S. Embassy in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, where she and Nathan live with Elena and Benjamin; what a great set of stories those two are going to have for a lifetime, growing up all over the world. She talked with our students yesterday about this work, and it was an extraordinary experience for all of us – the breadth of her knowledge base, language skills, and people skills required to do the job at all, let alone to do it in an award-winning fashion.

Jen is one of a handful of people serving as the public face of the United States in this particular corner of the world. I know we can all appreciate both the difficulties and the critical importance of serving in this capacity in today’s world with all of its challenges, old new and emerging. It would be hard to imagine many people better equipped to deal with those challenges than Jennifer Spande. Even with all that she has accomplished already, it won’t be surprising to any of us to find that her best is yet to come.

I present Jennifer Pleuss Spande for the First Decade Award for early professional achievement.


And I seized the opportunity to thank Gustavus, and give my idealism full reign. In the actual speech, I ad-libbed a bit at the beginning, mostly about how I really wanted to meet this Jennifer Spande person Chris was talking about. Here's the text of my prepared remarks:


Thank you, Chris, for that warm introduction.

It is an incredible honor to receive this award today from an institution that has already given me so much. Like the other class of 1997 graduates here today, it’s a great opportunity to remember what a special place Gustavus is, to reminisce about our time here, and to think about ways that we can make sure that other students have the same amazing Gustavus experience that we had.

Gustavus is such a wonderful place to spend four years. This school is unparalleled in the support it gives to its best students. As I think back on my time here, what is so striking to me is how much the faculty invested in me, and how seriously they took me and my ideas and passions, even as a young adult.

Chris has told you some stories about our research adventures, which were one of the greatest opportunities I had here. Not only is Gustavus’s emphasis on undergraduate research unique, but the emphasis on student-directed research is really amazing. Chris is a wonderful scholar who does terrific work on the intersection of religion and politics. But what is remarkable to me is that rather than just being invited to join him in his research, he went out of his way to support me in my own research interests, which couldn’t have been further from the voting behavior studies he was doing at the time.

So many other faculty members made such an investment in me. I became seized with questions about ethics in my freshman year and developed an interest in philosophy. While I was hoping to find an answer to those ethical questions in the philosophy department, what I found instead was so much more valuable: the awareness that there is no one right answer—or, to put it another way, an appreciation for ambiguity and respect for a diversity of opinions--and the development of a rigorous approach to considering these fundamental questions that I will have for the rest of my life.

Two other professors I had early on also made an especially strong impact. Dennis Johnson, who was the Vice President for Church Relations, and later became the VP for College Relations and interim college president, taught just one class a year, which I was fortune enough to take: a first term seminar called the “Literature of 20th Century Religious Social Activists”. Just like my philosophy major, that class gave background and rigor to the struggle we all face with how we are called to live faithfully in an unjust world.

The other professor who was such an important part of my Gustavus years was one who touched many of us in the class of 1997: Ron Christenson, the founder of the political science department, and a man with an incredible passion for history, law, travel, and especially his students. Ron’s death several years ago was a huge loss to the college, but I know that his student-centered approach lives on at Gustavus. Just one quick anecdote about Dennis and Ron, to exemplify the spirit they brought to campus. Dennis and his wife Carol had all of the students in his first term seminar over to their house for pizza and a movie. A few friends and I decided to reciprocate, and we invited Dennis and Carol and Ron and his wife Kathryn (who is here tonight) over for dinner at our place. We served an inelegant dinner of spaghetti in a very cramped lounge in Johnson Hall, but to look at the gracious and enthusiastic reaction from our guests, you would have thought it was the classiest dinner they had ever been served. To be treated with so much respect and taken so seriously as 18 year old serving pasta in a dorm room was a rare honor indeed.

Terrific faculty, of course, is just one part of what makes Gustavus so special. I was also fortunate to be inspired by my fellow students. Just reading about the other ’97 graduates nominated for this award is a humbling reminder of the high caliber of people Gustavus attracts. And perhaps the biggest thank you I need to say to Gustavus is for giving me an opportunity to meet my husband, Nathan—whom many of you know as Ed--who is also a ’97 grad. We started dating at the end of our freshman year and have been together ever since. And it is Ed who kept me sane when I was applying for all kinds of scholarships, facing grueling exams at Oxford, and trying to balance work and life. Ed has also made the tremendous sacrifice of slowing down his own career in computer security to follow me around the world and be a stay-at-home dad to our two children, giving me the freedom to focus on my career. So this award is one that really belongs to both of us.

Coming back to Gustavus after ten years is also an opportunity to reflect on how much our lives have changed and how much we have done since we graduated. While at Gustavus we had the flexibility to live inside the ivory tower, indulging our youthful idealism through class debates, student groups, volunteering and service learning. But after graduation, we had to turn our attention to the real world and develop a more inward focus on living our own lives. Leaving college is a shift from a life where the biggest stressors were exams, roommates, and jobs at the caf, to one where we had to deal with things like renting an apartment, finding a job, getting married, having kids, and buying our first house. We’ve traded tracking how much money we had in our cafeteria account to tracking how much money we have in our 401ks. Last night my husband and I did something that would have been unthinkable ten years ago. We went back to Mexican Village, the Mankato restaurant that everyone’s parents seemed to take them to when they came to visit, and we actually paid for our own meals!

But as we look back on the last ten years, and reflect on how much we’ve changed and how much Gustavus has given us, I think we all need to return to some of those lofty concerns of our college days. After ten years, we are beginning to get to the point in our lives where just getting established doesn’t take all of our energy. We can think more seriously about ways to give back to Gustavus and the other institutions that have helped us on our journey.

But we shouldn’t stop there. What attracted so many of us to Gustavus was the idea of going to a small, supportive liberal arts school. While Alex and I are being honored today for our professional accomplishments—and there are so many other Gusties who have done amazing things in their careers--Gustavus’ greatest strength goes far beyond its role in preparing students for the work world. The term liberal arts originally referred to the skills that free men—as opposed to slaves and yes, women—needed to be productive members of society. These were the skills of critical thinking, writing, and persuasion and the knowledge of history, math, music, and other disciplines. Ten years after our graduation is the perfect time to reflect on how we are using our liberal arts education to be productive members of society.

Perhaps because I live in Cambodia, the privileged position that we occupy as educated Americans is particularly evident to me. Cambodia is a country still struggling to recover from one of the most destructive genocides of the 20th century. It’s a place where few children can expect to finish junior high school, much less college, and those few that go on to higher education will find few jobs waiting for them. Cambodia is a country where women routinely die in childbirth, and the lack of something as simple as a mosquito net or clean water leads to tens of thousands of deaths each year from diseases like malaria, dengue fever, and even diarrhea. And as I spent $3 yesterday buying a delicious chai latte—one of the American treats that we can’t get in Cambodia—I remembered that that is three times more than most Cambodians live on for an entire day. And, of course, this picture isn’t unique to Cambodia. The majority of the world’s population lives in developing countries like Cambodia and faces similar struggles.

To be sure, there are struggles here in the United States as well. The current debate about the role of government in providing health insurance for poor children reminds us that basic health care is a luxury, not a right in this country. While the United States is experiencing unprecedented levels of prosperity, the gap between rich and poor continues to widen. Even the great education which we all benefitted from and which is supposed to serve as the engine of social mobility in our country is not open to all. A recent New York Times article highlighted studies which have shown that students from the top quartile of the socioeconomic hierarchy are 25 times more likely to attend a “top tier” college than students from the bottom quartile. And, perhaps most importantly, we are in the midst of a political campaign which will define how our government sees its responsibilities towards its people and its role in the world.

So, as we close this evening, I would like to challenge all of us--Gustavus alumni, current students, faculty, staff, and parents--to think not just about how our Gustavus experience makes our lives better, but how we can use our education to improve others’ lives. To paraphrase a speech that Robert Kennedy gave to Berkeley students in 1966:

We live in the most privileged nation on earth. We are the most privileged citizens of that privileged nation; for we have been given the opportunity to study and learn, to take our place among the tiny minority of the world's educated men and women. By coming to this school we have been lifted onto a tiny, sunlit island, while all around us lies an ocean of human misery, injustice, violence, and fear. We can use our enormous privilege and opportunity to seek purely private pleasure and gain. But history will judge us, and, as the years pass, we will ultimately judge ourselves, on the extent to which our have used our gifts to enrich the lives of others. In our hands, not with presidents or leaders, is the future of our world and the fulfillment of the best qualities of our own spirit.

Thank you.


Wednesday, November 21, 2007

More cute kids

The kids were drinking tea in the bathtub today. Don't worry, it was decaf. The following exchange happened:

Ben: We’re drinking tea in the bathtub! That’s so silly!

Ellie: Why are we drinking tea in the bathtub?

Daddy: Because you have a very nice daddy.

Ellie: But most of the time you’re just boring.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Hiding

The kids have recently grown quite fond of hiding from us. Ben isn't as enthusiastic as Ellie, but he will often play along nicely. I have two stories and a picture for you.

First, a few days ago Jen was taking a shower, and Ben and Ellie were jumping on the bed trying to get me out of it. I managed to encourage them to play a game that would allow me to get a few more moments of sleep. The three of us crawled under the blankets to hide, so when Jen came out we'd be gone. Ben quickly decided this was too scary, so he just sat on top of the blanket. When Jen came out she saw a huge lump on the bed, with Ben sitting nearby. He promptly announced "I didn't want to hide", thus revealing our cunning plan.

Second, again a few days ago, Jen and I were talking about something in the computer room, with the door closed. The kids were out playing on their own, and I was listening for them. All of a sudden, the house grew silent. I opened the door and shouted for the kids. There was no response. I started to panic a bit, and frantically started scouring the house for them. A few minutes later, when panic is truly setting in, I go to the last room in the house, the laundry room. For those of you who know, the laundry room is blocked off by a child gate. The kids were hiding in a corner, behind a huge wardrobe, giggling quietly. They had scaled the gate and gone to hide. For the record, Mom and Dad, the similarity to my escapades at that age has not eluded me.

Finally, the picture. They will hide anywhere. Below they are pictured in their bathroom hiding on the shelves. The spot was actually quite good, since the door was open before I took the picture, blocking them from the view of anybody entering the bathroom!

Saying goodbye

Saying goodbye to friends is something the kids are going to need to get used to in this life, and for Ellie the first really good friend has departed. Elsa only recently became Ellie's "best friend" and has just moved to Gabon, stopping by England to visit her extended family there. Ellie's question with regard to all of the posts on our bid list is "is that close to Elsa?" She had a rough couple of days, but seems to be handling it well. We are planning to facilitate communications with them using e-mail and mailing drawings. In any event, the picture below was taken the day before Elsa got on a plane. Elsa is in the middle, for those of you who haven't seen our kids recently :)

Halloween redux

Greetings one and all. I just saw that we have apparently not posted a darn thing for the last two months. Wow. Apologies all around. We've had an eventful couple of months, but I think the best way to start it off is with a couple of photos. This post and the next two will be mainly just about cute kid photos. Enjoy!

We had two trick or treating events this year. The first was the neighborhood party, organized by some fellow Americans who really miss their DC neighborhood festivities. There were something like 24 houses on the tour, and the kids went around in a tuk-tuk with Jen, while I stayed home and handed out candy. The second event was at the embassy, and Ellie brought her good friend Elsa along. More on Elsa in the next post. The general opinion was that the candy at the embassy was better (mostly imported, not scary Asian stuff) but less abundant. They are still working their way through it all, though, so there was certainly no shortage.

Preparing to go trick-or-treating by communing with the spirits

The full range of super heroes - Wonder Woman, Spartacus (I guess), Superman, and Batman
From left to right, kids are: Shelby, Ethan, Ellie, Elsa
Ben, not pictured, was also

Monday, August 20, 2007

More Ben cuteness

Tonight the kids and I were sitting around eating leftover brats and kraut from our Sunday dinner. It was a generally pleasant experience, and we all were just chatting about our day. Ben told us that he needed to go wash his hands, and then he would tell us a story about when he had put five thieves in jail. So he went ahead and washed up, then told us his tale. Here's my best attempt to recreate it.

Ben: One time, when I was five, I saw this thief, but he wasn't a thief, he was the thief's daddy!
Me: What happened then?
Ben: Weeeelllll..... the thief said come here.
Me: Did you go there?
Ben: Weeeelllll..... yeah! I goed there!
Me: You went there?
Ben: Yeah!
Me: And then what happened?
Ben: Weeellll.... he said come here Ben, and I said my name isn't Ben, I'm Robin Hood!
Me: And then what happened?
Ben: The thief said I'm Maid Marian!
Me: So then what happened?
Ben: We got married!

Clearly we have seen the Robin Hood Disney movie recently. Well, not so recently, but the kids really latch onto movies.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Jen and Nathan's Weekend Getaway to Kampot

A few weeks ago, Nathan and I spent a lovely weekend away--sans kids--in Kampot, a charming river town about 3 hours from Phnom Penh. Our lovely alone time was courtesy of our good friends Cullen and Vanessa, who volunteered to sleep at our house and be in charge of the kids while we were away, and Sinen and Somany, who helped Cullen and Vanessa and kept the house on its normal routine.

Our accommodation was this guest house outside of town that does not advertise and was billed as "the best place to stay in Kampot." We quickly learned that it deserves that appellation mainly because there are no great places to stay in Kampot. Our spot was more reminiscent of summer camp, with bungalows with no A/C, no hot water, and lots of bugs. However, it did have a lovely view and the staff was friendly. Also, at something like $30/night, we certainly got what we paid for.

View of the Teuk Chhou River from our guest house.

Kampot is one of those terrific second-class tourist destinations--the sort of place that foreign tourists here to see the temples would never make time for, but that offers a nice change of pace for those of us resident in country. Its principal attractions are several good restaurants along the riverfront, beautiful setting, and not being in Phnom Penh.


Here's one example of the French legacy you often see in Kampot and other provincial capitals.

We had a fun time crawling through one of the many local caves...

Jen with our tour guides at the cave

...and, after much searching in the beautiful countryside, finally found the pepper plantations the region is famous for.

Jen with the proprietor of the pepper plantation where we bought pepper as late Father's Day gifts for our dads.

Pepper plant, after the pepper has been harvested

We also drove to the small resort city of Kep, which was the vacation spot of the elite in the 1960s and only recently has really made a comeback.

Beachfront at Kep

Kids playing on the beach at Kep

As our time in Kampot drew to a close, we decided to take an informal tour of the mangroves not far from Kampot. (Mangroves are really cool and important from an ecological standpoint. Liz is probably an expert in this already, but here's a few good basic explanations from the Queensland, Australia government and wikipedia.)

First, we passed by the salt flats, where sea water is allowed to dry in the sun so the salt can be harvested.

Stunning coastal scenery. (This boat was identical to ours, and the man rowing our boat was an amputee with 7 kids. Needless to say, we paid him well for his time and effort.)

Father and son fishing in the Gulf of Thailand

Thursday, August 09, 2007

School is in!

And I am out! The kids are happy to be back in school (particularly Ellie, as she is now in the top class there), and I am happy to have them back. I have now officially stopped being the manager, and have started up with a small bit of consulting.

I've been getting lots of encouragement on that front, and have started working on getting projects bigger than home PC repair. Although with the international group of folks here, I must say that it is more challenging than most places. I yesterday delivered a computer that had taken a while to fix, partially for technical reasons, but partially because it was the Norwegian version of XP! Sadly I can definitively say that the lessons learned years ago in Norwegian camp have entirely faded. On the other hand, I can now recognize "open", "close", "next", "cancel" and a number of other words in Norwegian.

Oh, and we'll have more photos up soon. I hope tonight.

Walking tall (and normally)

Thank you all for your sympathy/empathy regarding the back problems. I have continued with the therapy, and am pleased to report that in the last two days I have had no pain, and no need for ibuprofen. Lovely feeling.

I may wind up taking a trip to Bangkok at some point for the MRI, but for the moment at least all is much better. The kids are certainly happy about this, since I've been much less grumpy with them than before!

Monday, July 30, 2007

Life's Tragedies

Yesterday, Ellie was a pain in the butt all day. Nathan counted five tantrums, two of which I was lucky enough to be home for. The last one happened at dinner, when she got upset about where everyone was sitting, tried to pry my hands apart during the prayer (she had insisted on sitting on my lap), and finally got sent for a three minute time out when she tried to throw the rice off my plate.

She refused to sit in the punishment chair and suddenly decided that she was very hungry and had to return to the table immediately. Which led to her wailing "I need food to grow. You won't let me grow! You won't let me grow!"

Ahh...our little drama queen.

Ben is sitting on my lap as I type. Here's his contribution:

yy ccchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh j

Sunday, July 29, 2007

Adventures in Northeastern Cambodia

About six weeks ago I got to take an amazing work trip, courtesy of a visit from our Regional Environmental Officer, Jim Waller, who is based in Bangkok. We spent six days in Stung Treng and Ratanakiri, two remote and sparsely populated northeastern provinces an 8-12 hour drive from Phnom Penh. (Stung Treng town and Banlung, the capitals of Stung Treng and Ratanakiri provinces, are shown on the map below.)

The focus of the trip was to look at the impact of dams in Vietnam on three rivers that feed in to the Mekong--the Sesan, Sekong, and Srepok rivers. We also investigated illegal logging and quasi-legal logging and economic land concessions in the region.

We started out with a trip up the Mekong River from Stung Treng town. In typical fashion, the Cambodians insisted that Jim and I get two of the few life vests even though we both knew how to swim and several of the Cambodians along didn't.

Jim and I perch on top of the boat, while our driver Sideth and translator Sethy stand on the deck with community members from one of the towns along the river.

The Mekong is wide and beautiful, and we saw animals out for a drink, a "flooded forest" and the endangered dolphins I blogged about seeing in January (no photos of those this time.)


Our big adventure was hiking up jagged rocks up to the Khone Falls, which form the border between Laos and Cambodia. I knew we were going to be close to the waterfalls and so asked if we could visit them. A long conversation in Khmer (most of which I didn't follow) ensued between our translator and the leader of the trip. Then came the one word summary: "Okay." What they didn't tell me is that the boat we were taking was too big to navigate the shallower waters near the falls, and we'd need to switch to two motorized canoes (which they'd have to go looking for, and one of which was piloted by someone who looked to be about 12), go up rapids, and even then we wouldn't be able to boat all the way to the falls.

It was a real adventure to get to the waterfalls, but Jim was determined to make it and I was happy to push aside the rest of the schedule to make it happen. He was the big shot visitor, after all, and I was happy for an excuse for an adventure. After riding various boats, leaving half the group at a rock outcropping in the middle of the river so the more experienced boat pilot could lead each boat over the rapids, and a long, strenuous, and extremely hot hike without water or food, we finally reached the falls. Surely one of the more remote places on the planet, and well worth the trip.


Our plan had been to get back to the community where we started for lunch and a discussion of changes in rivers and forests in their area and its impact on their lives. We did go back, but we were three hours late after our waterfall diversion. Fortunately, no one minded, and we arrived hot and famished, wolfed down lunch, and had a good conversation.

The next day was important but less exciting day of meeting government officials and NGO leaders in Stung Treng. (Sadly, a few weeks after our trip an activist for one of the NGOs we met with was killed--some said because of his work in promoting villagers' rights to use and protect forest and river resources.)

Then it was off to Ratanakiri by way of a small and remote ethnic Phnong village on the banks of the Srepok, one of the rivers slated to be dammed. We had to drive three hours through the forest on what was essentially a dirt track to reach the village. Rainy season had just started and I was afraid that we wouldn't be able to make it in on the muddy track.

At one point, after about two hours of driving through the forest with no people in sight, I was worried that we were on the wrong path. I asked the NGO rep who was leading us how many times he had visited this village and, sensing my worry, he laughed and said, "Only once, and that was more than a year ago!" At another point, our car was surrounded by tons of big black flying insects and I asked my translator what they were. He consulted with the NGO rep and then told me, "I don't know what you call them in English, but they suck your blood." Comforting! I passed around the Deep Woods Off.

Despite my misgivings and with several stops to push the car, put branches, etc under the tires to get traction, we made it.


Beautiful meadow and flowers on our way to the Kbal Romeas ("Rhino Head") Phnong village. (And, yes, those faint tracks in the meadow were the road!)

Getting to the village on the dirt track was a real challenge. Here we are bringing back fallen logs to put on the muddy road to help our SUV get some traction. I wasn't sure that we'd make it to the village, but we did!

Ethnic Phnong home and children. There are several different minority groups who live in northeast Cambodia, and the Phnong are among the most numerous. They live in really remote areas, and only in the last year or two did researchers announce that they had figured out a way to write the language. Whereas ethnic minorities in Vietnam, Thailand, and Laos have often retained their colorful traditional clothing, in Cambodia they tend to wear Khmer or used Western clothes. Many have suggested that this is a good thing, as it will not beckon the hordes of Western tourists who descend on ethnic minority villages in neighboring countries.

In a country where 80% of the population lives in rural areas, I think field travel--and specifically getting a sense of what the issues and perspectives are outside Phnom Penh--is one of my most important jobs. But it's often very difficult to find the time to get away from the daily grind of the office. A work visitor, like Jim, provides the perfect motivation/excuse to make that field travel happen rather than put it off, and means that superiors will almost certainly sign off on the trip.

In the field, we spend a lot of time like this, meeting with local communities and listening to their concerns. Despite the fact that this community was dramatically affected by construction of a dam upstream in Vietnam, no one had ever come to meet with them to talk to them about the construction or what would happen to water levels. They already reported floods during the dry season which destroyed crops and increased pollution in the river.

During our conversations with communities, men and women consistently segregated themselves, and the men dominated the conversation. We purposefully tried to solicit the women's opinions but they were reluctant to talk and, frankly, their few comments were often not as insightful as the men's. It really seemed as if their realm was the family and day to day life, while the men were the ones who kept track of the outside world.

After our meeting with the Phnong community, we high-tailed it to Banlung, the capital of Ratanakiri, where we had a 4:30 meeting with the Ministry of Environment. When we arrived (just in the nick of time) we learned that the provincial governor had cancelled our meeting. Apparently he was offended that we were meeting other provincial officials before we were meeting him. In reality, we had scheduled that meeting for the afternoon after the Phnong village because it was less important and we knew we might be running late. We scheduled the governor for 8 am the next day because we knew we wouldn't miss the appointment. Ironically, the next day the governor was unable to meet with us so we met with the vice governor instead.

The good news about the meeting being cancelled is that it gave us extra time to visit Yaklom Lake, a small but very beautiful lake just outside of Banlung. I went back to the lake at sunrise the next day for a terrific run.

Mist rising off Yaklom Lake

Jim and I enjoy walking through the bamboo forest on the trail around the lake.

My favorite photo from the trip. Sunset at the lake as seen from the bamboo forest.

After our leisurely stroll around the lake, Jim (being even more adventurous than I) wanted to sample some of the local delicacies on offer at the little snack shop. So we shared two jugs of a very unusual type of rice wine, which is also found in the central highlands of Vietnam. Somehow, husked rice is "dry fermented" and packed in these ceramic pots. To get to the wine, you pour in bottled water, and then suck out the rice wine with bamboo straws. Just like a tea bag, you can add more water and get more rice wine, though it gets more dilute each time. It tasted surprisingly good, and we even asked the driver to take some back to Phnom Penh for us, though unfortunately he had to leave in a hurry to avoid a rainstorm and wasn't able to.

Not wanting to drink on an empty stomach, we also had grilled, marinated deer jerky and grilled dried snake. And rice, of course. This is Cambodia after all. (OK, to be honest, I went back to the hotel and had a lovely western meal afterwards.)

Sethy and I drinking the delicious rice wine.

This was the adorable son of the food stand owner. He loved watching us snack and chat.

The next day we went to the "3S River Celebration," an NGO-organized consciousness-raising and information-sharing event to bring together people from communities along the 3S rivers (Sesan, Sekong, and Srepok) who have been or maybe affected by the damming. While Cambodian villagers--many who were poor and various ethnic minorities--came from fairly long distances to attend, unfortunately only one government official showed up.

Consciousness-raising Cambodia-style. The event was held in the meeting hall of a pagoda, and we all sat on the floor...for hours...and you can't let your feet point at anyone because that is considered incredibly rude. (Because we were the VIPs, we were seated in front facing the audience. I'm in the white t-shirt behind the post in the middle of the photo.) Physical flexibility and a high tolerance for discomfort should be hiring criteria for the Foreign Service.

Talking to the press after the event.

On this trip, even going home was an adventure--we booked tickets in a tiny Cessna. The plane is operated by Missionary Aviation Fellowship, whose main goal is--you guessed it--to get missionaries into and out of remote places. However, they don't have enough business from just missionaries, so they also take NGOs and embassies (but not the general public). At $100 for a one-way plane ticket and a 1 1/2 hour ride vs. a 12 hour drive, they were a great deal! But what a tiny plane! Only six seats (including the pilot) and Jim had to sit in the co-pilot's seat.

We had also hoped to fly up to the northeast, but the plane was already booked so we had to drive instead. Chatting with other passengers on the way back, they said..."Oh, that was the Williamsons. They're missionaries in Mondulkiri and they just got back from home leave in Australia." Imagine one family (with four kids) is enough to sell out the whole airplane!

Our tiny plane...

and the tiny airport. The airport was never actually unlocked. We just stood under the little roof at the entrance to get out of the rain. Shortly before the plane was to land, the pilot called a moto driver on a cell phone and the moto driver went to get all the joy-riders off the dirt runway.

See that little wooden structure with the funky roof on the left? That's the control tower. And no one was inside.

The views from the plane were amazing. Here you can see illegal logging in progress.

And on a happier note, here is the Mekong, weaving its way through the Cambodian countryside.