An Island Adventure

This past weekend, my friend Catherine invited me to go with her on a trip to one of her potential research sites. Catherine studies fisheries and the environment like I do. However, she is much smarter than I am in one important way: while I have chosen to study inland fisheries, she studies marine fisheries. That means that all her research sites are beach towns or tropical islands while mine are on lakes and ponds.

The place we visited is called Rong Samloem Island. Here's a map:
View Rong Samoloem Island in a larger map

The island is about a two hour boat ride away from Sihanoukville, a popular Cambodian beach resort town four hours drive away from Phnom Penh. The island has (I believe) three small fishing villages on in, although I only saw one. A very dedicated and charismatic guy named Paul has spent much of the last ten years working to set up a marine conservation program (http://www.marineconservationcambodia.org/) on the island and has accomplished quite a lot. Areas around the island are official government sanctioned marine conservation sites. One section is a no-fish area, and the others are community fishing sites. People are allowed to fish in these areas but they must register with the village chief in order to do so, and the community has the ability to decide whom to allow to fish. According to various people I spoke with over the weekend, stricter fishing regulations in Thailand and Vietnam have pushed industrial-sized Thai and Vietnamese ships into Cambodia’s waters, where there are few regulations on fishing. They use destructive tactics like trawling and dynamite and take enormous, unrestrained amounts of fish. Apparently people in the village used to ship 40 crates of fish out of the village per week, and now they may ship as little as two or three. They cannot compete with the large-scale foreign fishing boats. In addition, there are many reefs around the area that have been damaged by fishing and diving operations. The conservation areas are meant to protect the reefs, including the many seahorses that live there. (Everyone at the site was really into seahorses, and they collect most of their data on seahorses.)

Here's a picture of the view from the island. It wasn't very sunny this weekend, so my photos aren't great:


Another part of what’s been set up on the island is a volunteer conservation program. People from all over the world (mostly Europe) come to spend a month or more volunteering with the program and learning to dive. They do things like beach cleanups, reef cleanups, collecting ecological data, and community involvement such as setting up a mini health clinic and teaching English to local children. There were about eight volunteers there when I visited. The volunteers live in bungalows that Paul built on the island. There’s also a big pavilion (photo below) where meals are served and volunteers hang out while they aren’t working, playing cards, reading, journaling, etc. The organization has a good relationship with the village. They see the importance of a positive and supportive relationship with the community and work hard at maintaining it. They employ many of the villagers and provide medical and educational services. The volunteer coordinators told me that two previous volunteers who worked for a day-care center in Australia wrote home during their stay, and got students and their parents to send enough clothes for the local children that each child got at least one new outfit.

During my stay on the island, I got to go snorkeling, hike through the jungle and up a river, wander through the village, practice my Khmer with children (who are very good language partners given my level), and walk on the beach. It was a great change from Phnom Penh, where I rarely go for a walk for fear of the traffic. There are only about 200 families in the village, and no cars or motos. You can walk anywhere without shoes on. You don’t inhale exhaust every time you step out. However, they still manage to have karaoke, which I’m realizing is a staple of rural Khmer life. It blasted late into the night on Friday and once again ruined my notion of having a quiet night’s rest outside of the city.

One of the more exciting events during our stay took place Saturday afternoon. Paul came up to the pavilion asking for help with a sunken boat. Nearly everyone at the pavilion came to help and joined a bunch of the village men. One of the villagers’ fishing boats had a hole in it and was filling up with water. The boat weighed a ton, and it took about twenty people, but together we dumped out most of the water, bailed out the rest, and moved the boat up onto some logs on the shore so that the hole could be fixed. It was quite a scene, all the “barangs” and the Khmer villagers hauling this boat onto the shore. It was great to see and be a part of, and was demonstrative of how hard Paul works to maintain a positive relationship with the villagers.

The other bit of excitement occurred on the boat ride back, when we spotted fishing boats in the no-fish areas. We turned back around and went about half an hour out of the way just to confront the boats. While the confrontation wasn’t as intense as I expected (or secretly hoped), it was interesting to witness. The boat we saw was a recreational fishing boat full of foreigners with a Khmer staff and captain (photo below). We approached them and told them first in Khmer and then English that they were fishing in a no-fish zone. They were quite unrepentant and even yelled back “where’s your Greenpeace flag?” They claimed they didn’t know about the conservation area, and then later said that they were 1.5 km away from the island (the no-fish zone extends only 1 km away), but this was clearly not the case. We managed to contact the village chief, who is in charge of enforcing the conservation zones (although I’m not sure what his powers actually are). Once he was on his way we left and went back to the mainland. Not the most intense showdown, but interesting nonetheless, especially the Greenpeace comment. It never fails to surprise me how shortsighted people are when thinking about conservation. During the little confrontation, Paul said to the recreational fishers “you catch a whole lot less now than you used to, don’t you?” They agreed. So clearly they are hurting under the status quo of big fishing boats taking everything there is, and could stand to benefit from improved conservation, yet Paul and his group still get labeled as radicals for trying to conserve.

So all in all, a great weekend. Relaxing, but I learned a lot as well. I’m back in Phnom Penh now. Things are still going well here. Work is getting busier and I am getting into more of a daily routine. I even joined a gym, because it’s very hard to get exercise in the streets of Phnom Penh (unless you do Cambodia aerobics). My work is slowly starting to become clearer, but I’ll save more about that for a later post. Also, there are more photos to come. Promise.

Catherine and me hiking in the jungle.

A village fishing boat.

The boat that took us to and from the island.

Oma, and my new apartment

It's hard to figure out how to start this post about my last week. I could talk about my new apartment, my job so far, and what I've been doing when not at work, but really this week was shaped by my Oma (my grandmother) passing away last Saturday. She was sick, and her passing wasn't entirely unexpected, but it was hard on me after having been here less than two weeks when it happened. I don't have a close group of friends here yet and while the people I have met have all been really nice and as supportive as they could be, it's just not the same as being with my family and close friends. I was very sad to miss the funeral partly because I always feel like I learn something about a person who died at their funeral, and also just because I wanted to be there for my family. I did get to participate in a small way, though. I wrote a little something about my Oma and how important and influential she was for me. My sister Becca read it for me. My mom also got copies of all the eulogies and sent them to me. My Oma was very special and reading all those talks reinforced for me how lucky I am to have had a grandmother like her.

On Monday, the day after I found out that Oma died, I was feeling very very sad and didn't really know what to do. I didn't want to go to work, because I felt too distracted and I wanted do something to remember Oma. But I also didn't want to just sit at home and be mopey and sad. Monday also happened to be Yom Kippur. So, I decided that the most appropriate thing to do would be to go to Yom Kippur services. I had heard that there was a small Jewish community holding services, but I hadn't planned on going. I decided at the last minute and hunted down the location. Services were at a hotel, and the community brought a rabbinical student from Los Angeles all the way to Phnom Penh to lead services. The group was small, and we even had trouble keeping a minyan some of the time, but it was comforting and it felt like the most appropriate thing I could do given the circumstances. I broke the fast with Thai food and for the first time really missed the food from home. It felt wrong not to have kugel at break-fast.

Since my last post, I've moved into a new apartment. I am living with a Thai woman who is an excellent roommate: she cooks Thai food all the time! There's nothing more I could ask of a roommate (although she's great in lots of other ways too). We live on the fourth floor of a big house. The Khmer landlord and his family live downstairs, and the mother works at the US embassy. So I feel very safe. The apartment is on a relatively quiet residential street a few blocks south of the (not at all quiet) Psar o Russei, a big market that sells everything. You could furnish a house from the market, buy ipods, cell phones, kitchen appliances, books, clothes, fruits and vegetables, canned food, and about 100 different varieties of rice. Across the street from my apartment is a little shop that sells drinks, snacks, etc. They have a case of fried foods, and a few days ago I walked by and stopped to ask them what all the foods were. (I'm working on building my Khmer food vocabulary.) I pointed at one item, and they told me "fried banana". Another, potato. Then a third: "gongkaib". I knew I had learned that word, but it took me a minute to realize the meaning: frog! So, if I have a craving for a deep fried whole frog, I know where to get it.

Pchum Ben and moto driving

Last weekend, coinciding with Rosh Hashana back home, was a very important Khmer festival, called Pchum Ben. This festival goes on for two weeks, I believe, culminating in a national holiday when all offices, banks, etc. are closed and most people go back to their hometown. The purpose of the holiday is to respect and appease the spirits of dead ancestors. I was told beforehand that Phnom Penh empties out during the festival, so I should think about leaving town. I was planning on staying in the city, thinking that it would be quieter and a good time to explore, but I got invited by an American friend to go with him to stay with a Khmer family in the countryside for a day, to go to the temple with them and get a little taste for what life is like outside Phnom Penh.

The town we visited is called Wiel Kandal, in Kandal province. It was only about 30 minutes outside of Phnom Penh. The first day there, we just relaxed around their house and surrounding area. They introduced me to all their relatives and neighbors (most people seemed to be both a relative and a neighbor) and I practiced my Khmer a lot. I am slowly improving. I also ate a TON. All sorts of meat and vegetables, sticky rice with bananas, spring rolls, eggs, guava. I even ate prahok (Khmer fish paste). Everyone wanted to keep on feeding me, and when I said I was full, they asked me if I was worried about getting fat. As a matter of fact, I was feeling self conscious about my size, because people kept mentioning how big and fat I am. I tend to think I'm pretty average sized, but next to most Khmer people I am a giant. But really, I was just stuffed. People also enjoyed commenting on my big nose, which they said was very beautiful. Funny how standards of beauty really vary, based on what is considered exotic. I've never thought my nose to be my most attractive asset, but here it gets a lot of attention. I have to get used to accepting things like "you are fat" and "you have a big nose" as compliments, because instinctually I feel very embarrassed by comments like that.

The second day in the village, we woke up early and went to the Wat (temple). It was packed--this holiday is one of the most important. Before we went, the daughters of the family I visited dressed me up for the temple and even put makeup on me. (If you know me, you probably know that it is a very rare occasion that I wear makeup. I'll upload a picture soon.) There were a million things going on at once at the temple: people bringing food to monks, selling all sorts of refreshments, offering incense, giving money, and a whole bunch of other rituals that I don't know the explanation for. I, along with my hosts, offered rice to the dead ancestors, by placing a little bit of (cooked) rice each of a series about about ten big bowls. I was wondering what they do with all that cooked rice at the end of the festival--there must have been hundreds of pounds of it.

I returned to the city on Saturday afternoon and it was still quite empty: a perfect time to practice my moto driving skills. After quickly becoming frustrated with having to pay someone every time I wanted to go somewhere, I had decided a few days before to buy a motobike of my own. A friend of a friend was leaving town, so I bought hers. I got some good driving practice in before the crowds came back into town, and I had practiced a little bit while in the countryside, but none of that prepared me for driving around during rush hour for the first time. Don't worry, I am VERY careful and I always wear a helmet. The traffic here is chaotic, but it is a slow and gentle chaos and I am slowly getting used to the traffic patterns. The biggest issue that I have on my motobike it that I am constantly accidentally honking the horn as it is very low and bumps up against my bag (which I wear on the front of my body to deter bag snatching). I remind myself of the van in "Little Miss Sunshine", always honking for no apparent reason. The moto I drive is the same variety that most of the motodops (people who drive other people around on their own motos) drive, and motodops on the street are constantly asking me if I'm selling my moto and offering to buy it when I do.

I've started work now, but so far it's nothing too exciting: I'm still very much in background research and planning stages. I've also found a place to live and I'm moving in tomorrow. I'm looking forward to feeling a little more settled. Please write me anytime, I love to hear from you all.

Arriving and adjusting to Phnom Penh

Hello friends and family and welcome to my blog. In case you don’t already know, I’m spending the next ten months or so in Cambodia on a Fulbright scholarship. I arrived here on Monday and am currently staying in a guesthouse in an area called Boeung Keng Kang 1 (or BKK1) while I look for a more permanent place to stay. The neighborhood is quite safe because it is full of tourists and expats and is likewise also quite expensive. I am trying to speak a lot of Khmer, which is fun but also challenging. I’ve noticed that most Cambodian people I’ve talked to don’t really know how to speak Khmer to non-native speakers—I guess it’s just very uncommon to encounter a non-native Khmer speaker. In the US, people will often speak slowly, loudly, and use simple words when speaking to someone with limited English skills. That is not the case here: people speak quickly, quietly, and use complicated words when they talk to me. I generally need to ask them to slow down and repeat themselves a few times and eventually I just pretend to understand, even though I only have a vague idea of what they just said. Still, people are generally impressed and pleased that I can speak with them, especially when I tell them I’ve only been in Cambodia a few days and learned most of what I know in the US.

The most overwhelming thing in Phnom Penh for me is the traffic and transportation. The traffic is pretty crazy at first look but people who drive around here tell me that is indeed it chaos, but a slow and gentle chaos. The road is shared by cars (many of the wealthy Khmers drive big SUVs like Lexuses and Hummers), tuk tuks (sort of like a horse drawn carriage but pulled by a moped), motos (mopeds), bicycles, people pulling food carts, and pedestrians. There are very few traffic lights and people often don’t obey them. Crossing the street can be quite scary. The best ways to get around are in a tuk tuk or on a moto. Every time I step onto the street or walk anywhere, there are drivers offering me one.

I haven’t begun my research in depth yet. I met with my advisor on Monday and again on Tuesday, but this weekend is a holiday called Pchhum Ben day and the office has been closed. I don’t know much about the holiday except that it is supposed to honor and appease the dead and that many people leave Phnom Penh to go to their hometowns in the countryside, so the city empties out and is much quieter.

Yesterday I went to the US embassy for my security briefing. The embassy is quite a place—a massive compound with many layers of security. Cameras, cell phones, and any other electronics are forbidden, and they check your bags about six times before you finally get where you need to go. Of course, the security officer scared us a bit, but I think it is his job to overstate any threat. It is comforting to know, however, that because I am a Fulbright the embassy is watching out for my safety and will come to my aid if necessary. Being in the embassy, a centrally air-conditioned, brand new, very American compound, was very strange after the past few days in the heat, dirt, and liveliness of Phnom Penh. Phnom Penh is the least Americanized city I’ve ever seen: there is no McDonalds or Starbucks in Phnom Penh—only one KFC. I did get to meet a few of the other Fulbrights at the embassy. There is another woman my age who is studying Cambodian dance, a man who just finished law school studying malnutrition in the context of the Khmer Rouge trials, and an older woman who is on a teaching fellowship, teaching education at a university in Phnom Penh.

There is a lot more to tell but I’ll save it for another day. I don't have too many photos so far but I hope to post some soon. I love to hear from any of you so please stay in touch!