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:

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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.

Health update

Some of you have heard that I've had back problems for a few years, but they recently have taken a turn for the worse. It appears from an x-ray I had done on Monday that I've got a compressed disk, that may be herniated. They can't tell from the x-ray, and I'll maybe be going to Bangkok for an MRI in the next few weeks, but for the moment I'm just seeing a physical therapist a few times each week. I'm getting good care, no need to worry, but I am learning a bit about chronic pain. No fun. So if you get a grumpy e-mail or phone call, you'll know what's going on.

A new low for approval ratings

George W. Bush made Ben cry yesterday. I was reading the Economist at lunch, and Ben decided he needed to sit on my lap. He grabbed a subscription card out, and was looking at the old cover images that were all over it. He pointed to a few and asked what they were, so I told him. He then pointed to a picture of Bush, and asked who he was. I said "that's our president, Ben". He proceeded to start crying and saying "NOOOOOO! I don't want him to be President!!!" I could only reply by saying "neither do I, buddy".

History Repeats Itself

In grad school, I wrote my thesis about how government and rebel forces used the 1984 Ethiopian famine and the food aid that it spurred to perpetuate their civil war. For me, it was an eye-opening lesson in how foreigners operating under the best of intentions can make situations worse rather than better, and how difficult it is to make foreign aid effective, particularly in conflict situations.

Sadly, this New York Times article shows that similar issues are cropping up again, more than 20 years after the famous 1984 famine.

July 22, 2007

Ethiopia Is Said to Block Food to Rebel Region

By JEFFREY GETTLEMAN

NAIROBI, Kenya, July 21 — The Ethiopian government is blockading emergency food aid and choking off trade to large swaths of a remote region in the eastern part of the country that is home to a rebel force, putting hundreds of thousands of people at risk of starvation, Western diplomats and humanitarian officials say.

The Ethiopian military and its proxy militias have also been siphoning off millions of dollars in international food aid and using a United Nations polio eradication program to funnel money to their fighters, according to relief officials, former Ethiopian government administrators and a member of the Ethiopian Parliament who defected to Germany last month to protest the government’s actions.

The blockade takes aim at the heart of the Ogaden region, a vast desert on the Somali border where the government is struggling against a growing rebellion and where government soldiers have been accused by human rights groups of widespread brutality.

Humanitarian officials say the ban on aid convoys and commercial traffic, intended to squeeze the rebels and dry up their bases of support, has sent food prices skyrocketing and disrupted trade routes, preventing the nomads who live there from selling their livestock. Hundreds of thousands of people are now sealed off in a desiccated, unforgiving landscape that is difficult to survive in even in the best of times.

“Food cannot get in,” said Mohammed Diab, the director of the United Nations World Food Program in Ethiopia.

The Ethiopian government says the blockade covers only strategic locations, and is meant to prevent guns and matériel from reaching the Ogaden National Liberation Front, the rebel force that the government considers a terrorist group. In April, the rebels killed more than 60 Ethiopian guards and Chinese workers at a Chinese-run oil field in the Ogaden.

“This is not a government which punishes its people,” said Nur Abdi Mohammed, a government spokesman.

But Western diplomats have been urging Ethiopian officials to lift the blockade, arguing that the many people in the area are running out of time. “It’s a starve-out-the-population strategy,” said one Western humanitarian official, who did not want to be quoted by name because he feared reprisals against aid workers. “If something isn’t done on the diplomatic front soon, we’re going to have a government-caused famine on our hands.”

The blockade, which involves soldiers and military trucks cutting off the few roads into the central Ogaden, comes as Congress is increasingly concerned about Ethiopia’s human rights record.

Ethiopia is a close American ally and a key partner in America’s counterterrorism efforts in the Horn of Africa, a region that has become a breeding ground for Islamic militants, many of whom have threatened to wage a holy war against Ethiopia.

The country receives nearly half a billion dollars in American aid each year, but this week, a House subcommittee passed a bill that would put strict conditions on some of that aid and ban Ethiopian officials linked to rights abuses from entering the United States. The House also recently passed an amendment, sponsored by J. Randy Forbes, a Virginia Republican, that stripped Ethiopia of $3 million in assistance to “send a strong message that if they don’t wake up and pay attention, more money will be cut,” Mr. Forbes said.

Ethiopia’s pardon on Friday of 30 political prisoners who had been sentenced to life in prison could ease some criticism. But Senator Patrick J. Leahy, Democrat of Vermont, is pushing ahead with measures to more closely vet assistance to the Ethiopian military. According to human rights groups and firsthand accounts, government troops have gang raped women, burned down huts and killed civilians.

American officials in Ethiopia said they were trying to investigate the situation but that the Ogaden was too dangerous right now for a fact-finding mission. American officials said they had heard persistent reports of burned villages and that the blockade was putting the area on the cusp of a crisis.

Villagers say that anyone who criticizes the government risks getting killed. According to Ogaden Online, a Canadian-based news service that has been highly critical of the Ethiopian government and covers the region through a network of reporters and contributors, some equipped with satellite phones, four young men who were videotaped by The New York Times at a community meeting in an Ogaden village in May were later tortured and executed.

The claim could not be fully verified independently, but their identities may have been discovered by Ethiopian soldiers who had arrested three journalists for The Times in the Ogaden and confiscated their notebooks, cameras and computers.

“The army is out of control,” said Jemal Dirie Kalif, the member of Parliament who defected.

The blockade has been in place since early June, and thousands of people have already fled on foot and by camel. Two weeks ago, Abdullahi Mohammed, a 17-year-old student, walked from his village deep in the Ogaden to the nearest town with a bus station. He carried with him a few pieces of bread. He said that when he stopped to ask villagers in the Ogaden for food, they asked him for some instead. “They had nothing,” he said.

Though good rains this year have fed the few crops in the area and provided a little cushion, “The most these people can last without facing serious problems is one month, maybe two,” said David Throp, country director for Save the Children UK.

Even if relief trucks are allowed in to all the critical areas, the food might not reach the people who need it. According to humanitarian workers and several former Ethiopian officials, including Mr. Kalif, food aid is embezzled in two stages. First, soldiers skim sacks of grain, tins of vegetable oil and bricks of high-energy biscuits from food warehouses to sell at local markets.

“The cash is distributed among security officers and regional officers,” a former government administrator from the Ogaden region said in a recent telephone interview on condition of anonymity because he still works with government officials.

Then the remaining food is hauled out to rural areas where the soldiers divert part of it to local gunmen and informers as a reward for helping them fight the rebels. The former administrator said he also knew of specific cases in which army officers stole food from warehouses and gave it to the families of women whom their soldiers had raped, as compensation.

Several Western humanitarian officials estimated that 20 to 30 percent of the donor countries’ food aid to the Ogaden — aid that last year was valued at more than $70 million — routinely disappears this way. To cover their tracks, the soldiers and the government administrators who work with them tell the aid agencies that the food has spoiled, or has been stolen or hijacked by the rebels, humanitarian officials said.

Relief workers in Ethiopia have known about these problems for several years, a humanitarian official said, and have tried to set up committees of local elders to oversee distribution. But that did not work either, and aid officials eventually concluded that as long as the majority of the food was getting through, they would not stop the shipments.

When informed about these allegations, Mr. Diab of the World Food Program said, “This is the first I’ve heard of them.”

Mr. Mohammed, the government spokesman, denied that Ethiopian troops were pilfering or mishandling foreign aid. “We don’t do that,” he said.

As the food crisis looms, Western diplomats are also concerned about a separate plan by the regional government in the Ogaden to divert a share of its own budget for development projects — like schools and farming — to the Ethiopian military.

This seems to be part of the Ethiopian government’s strategy to do whatever it takes to crush the rebels, who have deep popular support and, according to the government, are getting arms and training from neighboring Eritrea, Ethiopia’s bitter enemy.

The people of the Ogaden are mostly Somalis and ethnically distinct from the highland Ethiopians who have ruled the country for centuries, and the long battle over the region has been steadily escalating this year. The country director of one Western aid agency, who recently returned from a field visit there, said he saw two villages that had been burned to the ground and several schools that had been converted into military bases, with foxholes.

Humanitarian officials say the military is building up militias and setting the stage for clan-based bloodshed. The rank and file of the Ogaden National Liberation Front tend to be members of the Ogaden clan, and so the government has turned to other clans to form anti-rebel militias. In the past few weeks, thousands of men have been armed.

“Those Ethiopians are smart,” Mr. Kalif, 32, said. “They know Somalis are more loyal to clans than anything else.” Tactics like these, he said, drove him to defect June 20 while attending a conference in Wiesbaden, Germany. He was affiliated with the ruling party, and had been representing an area in the eastern Ogaden for the past seven years.

He described a scheme with a United Nations polio program, which was corroborated by two former administrators in the Ethiopian government and a Western humanitarian official, in which military commanders gave prized jobs as vaccinators to militia fighters, and in the end, much of the polio vaccine was never distributed.

“Army commanders are using the polio money to pay their people, who don’t pass out the vaccines, so the disease continues and the payments continue,” said Mr. Kalif. “It’s the perfect system.” United Nations officials in Geneva said they did not know whether that was happening, but that they would investigate.

When asked how he knew about the polio scheme, Mr. Kalif said: “Everybody out there knows. They’re just too scared to talk.”

“If I don’t get asylum and they send me back to my country, I’m dead,” he added. “But I was sick of being a parrot. I have no regrets.”

Will Connors contributed reporting from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.

Aw...shucks

So, over the weekend, Ellie and I had a rough afternoon where I got fed up with her for not settling down to rest quietly or take a nap (and most importantly, keeping me awake). So eventually I woke Nathan up from his nap and made him take over, and he made Ellie sleep in a pack in play in the guest room, when she really wants to nap in the bedroom she shares with Ben.

After the nap, I was feeling a little guilty for not having infinite patience, when Ellie came up to me and sweetly crawled into my lap and snuggled in. Then she turned to me and said, "Mom, when I grow up I want to be just like you." I smiled, my heart warmed, and I tried to mentally save this moment so I could cherish this ultimate compliment.

I turned to her and said, "How do you want to be like me, sweetie?" She looked up at me sweetly and replied...

"When I grow up, I want to wear nail polish on my toes, too."