Second impressions
Door: Sanne Holtslag
13 Januari 2013 | Cambodja, Phnom-Penh
Dear all,
Time flies when you’re having fun (and are working hard)! It has been one month since my job started and so far I am enjoying almost every moment. There is a lot of work to be done in the relatively short time that I am in Cambodia, so it sometimes feels like I’m trying to catch up to a train, increasing its speed every day. It has been really great to read your comments on my last post, making me smile and feel like home for a few moments, thank you!
I have just come back to Phnom Penh from a 10-day fieldtrip in one of the Northern provinces: Battambang, not too far from the Thai border. I am happy I have had some time to see another ‘face’ of Cambodia, although the work-schedule was packed. In Battambang I have given workshops for local development organizations how they can assess the impact of their projects and held meetings with the senior staff or the organizations to discuss the strategic progress of their organization. But I also had the chance to travel into several communities and spend time with and interview some of the beneficiaries that participate in different development projects. Below is a snapshot of one of my days.
It is a 45 minute drive with the motorbike on a bumpy and dusty road, in between the rice fields, where the first harvest-cycle of the year is just finishing, passing scattered groups of coconut- and banana trees. Occasionally leaving behind a gawping person on the side of the road, surprised by the passing of blond hair, white arms and pulled-up legs on such a small motor-cycle. Together with one staff-member of the VSO partner organization ‘Buddhism for Development’ and a translator we arrive at a small, concrete house. We are welcomed by a hesitant smile of Chan, a woman in her early 50’s who just came back from her field, planting sugarcane. Family members start to appear from everywhere, curious about the visitors. Some small wooden benches are pulled out of the house and wiped for us to sit on.
Yes, Chan indicates with a soft voice and a nod, she is happy to talk to me and tell me more about her life. She explains how she received several trainings from Buddhism for Development on making natural compost and about how the market for rice works. Since the trainings her life has improved, since she no longer needs to buy chemical fertilizer and she does not sell her rice to the first middle-man she meets; she now checks different prices before she sells her harvest. She also tells about one of her neighbors, who has a business, selling dried fruit in small plastic bags for 60 Riel (approx. 1 eurocent). Up to now, her neighbor and her family are sealing each plastic bag with their bare hands in a kerosene flame, 4000 bags per month. With a grant from the organization she has bought a sealing- machine, which will safe her half the time she spends now (plus the tips of her fingers). Chan is getting more at ease and shares with me how she moved here 20 years ago and how hard her life has been. It is almost impossible to comprehend that every person over 30 years old in this country has gone through the horrors of Khmer Rouge and the aftermath. Chan was forced to marry her husband under Khmer Rouge, but had the ‘luck’ not to have children straight away, which would have been taken from her. When I ask her how she would like to see her future she thinks for a moment, with a serious look on her face. She says she is old now and doesn’t expect more from life, but her dream is to send her children back to school, maybe to university and study Business. To have a better life than she has had. ‘To not be farmers all their lives’. However, also with a university degree it is hard in this country to build a more sustainable future, with around 10 times as many Business students currently enrolled in the universities than there are jobs in Cambodia.
We talk a little more about Chan’s children who range in the age of 17 to 28. She giggles when I answer her questions that I am not married and don’t have children. With a glimmer in her eye she hints that her eldest son is not married, but looking for a wife. Before any deals can be closed, the translator steps in, indicating that we have to go back to Battambang City, otherwise it will be dark. Chan stands up and gives me a hug, telling me that I’m very pretty and kind and welcome to come back. We both laugh at the fact that she is still shorter than me, even though I’m sitting on the small wooden bench. Climbing on the motorbikes, we wave a final goodbye to Chan and her family and I feel sad leaving her behind, knowing we will not meet again.
That evening I walk from my guesthouse in Battambang City to the open-air market, popular around diner time with local Khmer people. Crossing the main road, where a couple of fancy hotels tower up to 20 floors high, I have to be careful not to be knocked over by one of the many SUV’s speeding along. As I turn into a smaller street I see two boys, aged maybe 8 and 10, with wild hair and dirty clothes. I just see how the older one is breathing into a plastic bag, and I smell the glue as I walk passed them. The oldest boy looks at me with a defiant expression on his face, almost like a guard dog defending its territory. None of us say anything. I arrive at the market and sit down at one of the metal tables, where a VSO colleague who works in Battambang is waiting for me. Our conversation quickly turns to the frustrations of working in a country where the gap between rich and poor only seems to increase with time. My colleague, who has worked in Cambodia for two years, paints a bleak picture of how he thinks that some of the local organizations we now work with will not be able to survive in the next years. I ask him how he keeps motivated to carry out his work every day. He answers: ‘Well, of course you see how bad the situation is for many people and they are struggling, even though we have been working with them for years. And that is frustrating. But then I think, how would their lives look like if we weren’t here? And that makes me go back to work every day with the same hope and energy that somehow, to someone we are making a small change’.
Time flies when you’re having fun (and are working hard)! It has been one month since my job started and so far I am enjoying almost every moment. There is a lot of work to be done in the relatively short time that I am in Cambodia, so it sometimes feels like I’m trying to catch up to a train, increasing its speed every day. It has been really great to read your comments on my last post, making me smile and feel like home for a few moments, thank you!
I have just come back to Phnom Penh from a 10-day fieldtrip in one of the Northern provinces: Battambang, not too far from the Thai border. I am happy I have had some time to see another ‘face’ of Cambodia, although the work-schedule was packed. In Battambang I have given workshops for local development organizations how they can assess the impact of their projects and held meetings with the senior staff or the organizations to discuss the strategic progress of their organization. But I also had the chance to travel into several communities and spend time with and interview some of the beneficiaries that participate in different development projects. Below is a snapshot of one of my days.
It is a 45 minute drive with the motorbike on a bumpy and dusty road, in between the rice fields, where the first harvest-cycle of the year is just finishing, passing scattered groups of coconut- and banana trees. Occasionally leaving behind a gawping person on the side of the road, surprised by the passing of blond hair, white arms and pulled-up legs on such a small motor-cycle. Together with one staff-member of the VSO partner organization ‘Buddhism for Development’ and a translator we arrive at a small, concrete house. We are welcomed by a hesitant smile of Chan, a woman in her early 50’s who just came back from her field, planting sugarcane. Family members start to appear from everywhere, curious about the visitors. Some small wooden benches are pulled out of the house and wiped for us to sit on.
Yes, Chan indicates with a soft voice and a nod, she is happy to talk to me and tell me more about her life. She explains how she received several trainings from Buddhism for Development on making natural compost and about how the market for rice works. Since the trainings her life has improved, since she no longer needs to buy chemical fertilizer and she does not sell her rice to the first middle-man she meets; she now checks different prices before she sells her harvest. She also tells about one of her neighbors, who has a business, selling dried fruit in small plastic bags for 60 Riel (approx. 1 eurocent). Up to now, her neighbor and her family are sealing each plastic bag with their bare hands in a kerosene flame, 4000 bags per month. With a grant from the organization she has bought a sealing- machine, which will safe her half the time she spends now (plus the tips of her fingers). Chan is getting more at ease and shares with me how she moved here 20 years ago and how hard her life has been. It is almost impossible to comprehend that every person over 30 years old in this country has gone through the horrors of Khmer Rouge and the aftermath. Chan was forced to marry her husband under Khmer Rouge, but had the ‘luck’ not to have children straight away, which would have been taken from her. When I ask her how she would like to see her future she thinks for a moment, with a serious look on her face. She says she is old now and doesn’t expect more from life, but her dream is to send her children back to school, maybe to university and study Business. To have a better life than she has had. ‘To not be farmers all their lives’. However, also with a university degree it is hard in this country to build a more sustainable future, with around 10 times as many Business students currently enrolled in the universities than there are jobs in Cambodia.
We talk a little more about Chan’s children who range in the age of 17 to 28. She giggles when I answer her questions that I am not married and don’t have children. With a glimmer in her eye she hints that her eldest son is not married, but looking for a wife. Before any deals can be closed, the translator steps in, indicating that we have to go back to Battambang City, otherwise it will be dark. Chan stands up and gives me a hug, telling me that I’m very pretty and kind and welcome to come back. We both laugh at the fact that she is still shorter than me, even though I’m sitting on the small wooden bench. Climbing on the motorbikes, we wave a final goodbye to Chan and her family and I feel sad leaving her behind, knowing we will not meet again.
That evening I walk from my guesthouse in Battambang City to the open-air market, popular around diner time with local Khmer people. Crossing the main road, where a couple of fancy hotels tower up to 20 floors high, I have to be careful not to be knocked over by one of the many SUV’s speeding along. As I turn into a smaller street I see two boys, aged maybe 8 and 10, with wild hair and dirty clothes. I just see how the older one is breathing into a plastic bag, and I smell the glue as I walk passed them. The oldest boy looks at me with a defiant expression on his face, almost like a guard dog defending its territory. None of us say anything. I arrive at the market and sit down at one of the metal tables, where a VSO colleague who works in Battambang is waiting for me. Our conversation quickly turns to the frustrations of working in a country where the gap between rich and poor only seems to increase with time. My colleague, who has worked in Cambodia for two years, paints a bleak picture of how he thinks that some of the local organizations we now work with will not be able to survive in the next years. I ask him how he keeps motivated to carry out his work every day. He answers: ‘Well, of course you see how bad the situation is for many people and they are struggling, even though we have been working with them for years. And that is frustrating. But then I think, how would their lives look like if we weren’t here? And that makes me go back to work every day with the same hope and energy that somehow, to someone we are making a small change’.
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13 Januari 2013 - 11:59
Michelle:
Dear Sanne,
It sounds amazing, satisfying and important the work you are doing! Keep enjoying the people, the country and your time.
Best wishes,
Michelle -
13 Januari 2013 - 12:01
Judith:
ha sanne,
wat een mooi verslag! Je kunt echt heel boeiend schrijven! Ik kijk uit naar je volgende verhaal.
Liefs, judith -
13 Januari 2013 - 13:35
Hank :
Tsjee wat indrukwekkend.
Ik sta even weer stil als ik je verslag lees. Ik zie je daar zitten , de juiste vragen stellen, en Chan even laten weten dat ze gehoord wordt. You do a good job.
Liefs Hank -
13 Januari 2013 - 21:55
Wilson:
hoi sanne alles goed met jouw hoe is het -
14 Januari 2013 - 00:39
Paul:
Hey Sanne,
Leuk hoor je verhalen te lezen.
Dank en liefs,
Paul -
14 Januari 2013 - 09:46
Ranjana:
Hoi Sanne,
Een interessant en goed verslag. We lezen nu goed wat doet jij daar.
Veel succes!
Groetjes,
Ranjana -
14 Januari 2013 - 10:31
Bente:
Lieve sanne,
wat mooi en leuk om te lezen. Geniet van je tijd daar!
Liefs,
Bente -
15 Januari 2013 - 00:08
Ankie:
Ha Sanne,
het is heerlijk om jouw gesprekken met localen en collega's te mogen meelezen. Dank je wel. Volgens mij gaat het je goed en dat gun ik hen en jou!
Hier worden de schaatsen geslepen en voeren we de vogels bij ;-)
Heel veel plezier en succes verder,
geniet waar kan en keep up the good work.
I can hardly wait for the third impressions :-)
All the best,
XXX
Ankie -
17 Januari 2013 - 19:36
Lies:
Ha die Sanne
Mooie verhalen.. heel interessant om mee te mogen beleven.
Koning winter regeert hier met - 15 graden straffe kou s'nachts. en een griep epidemie waar ik ook een een veeg van mee krijg.
Sanne, 20 januari nadert, onze gezamenlijke geboortedag. Een dikke knuffel van je tante hierbij.
29 jaar geleden schoten we voor jouw wat vuurpijlen de lucht in, dat gaan we nu herhalen.
Dus kijk omhoog in Cambodja!
tot horens en liefs van Lies en Johan.
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20 Januari 2013 - 09:53
Truus Kortenhorst:
Hoi Sanne,
Van harte proficiat met je verjaardag. Zal daar wel heel anders gevierd worden dan hier. ga je het nog vieren, lekker in de zon??? Heel erg leuk om je verhalen te lezen. Ik hoop dat je het erg naar je zin hebt. David en ik zijn begin januari naar Gerdien geweest en hebben haar nieuwe appartement gezien. Ziet er heel mooi uit.
Vandaag proberen we naar Deventer te komen voor de verjaardag van Lies, maar er is sneeuw en ijzel voorspeld. We zullen er wel komen, maar terug!! Zal zich vanzelf wel oplossen.
Hier is de schaatskoorts inmiddels volop aanwezig. Ook de komende week blijft het vriezen en de eerste tochten op het natuurijs zijn al geweest. Er begint al een beetje elfstedentochtkoorts te ontstaan.
Ik word al geroepen dat we de trein moeten halen. Sanne, een hele fijne dag en dikke zoennen van David en mij -
20 Januari 2013 - 15:02
Ingrid:
Lieve Sanne, wat een geluk dat ik vandaag pas aan je verslag toe kom want zo heb ik ook de felicitaties van de 'reageerders' voor mij kunnen lezen en werd ik eraan herinnerd dat je vandaag jarig bent! Gefeliciteerd! hoop dat je een leuke dag hebt (gehad). Mooi verslag ook weer om te lezen. Heb je daar toevallig nog een paar weken vakantie? wil ik je wel op komen zoeken :-) ! liefs -
20 Januari 2013 - 17:27
Marlise :
Hoi Sanne,
Eindelijk heb ik je blog ontdekt! Wat indrukwekkend om te lezen zeg. Je neemt weer hele andere dingen waar dan Vera. Interessant toch hoe iedereen door zijn eigen bril naar de wereld kijkt.
Ik stuur dit mailtje en voor mij zie ik een pleintje met sneeuw. Het is echt superkoud in Nederland op het moment en ik ga het liefst de deur helemaal niet uit. Brrr. Maar gelukkig zit Loic naast me te typen :) Het samenwonden voel heel natuurlijk en we genieten er allebei van.
veel liefs,
Marlise -
20 Januari 2013 - 20:14
Gonnie Kortenhorst :
Hoi, Sanne
Allereerst, van harte gefeliciteerd met je 27 ste verjaardag.
Je hebt er al vast een lokaal gebrouwen drankje op gedronken!
Verder erg leuk om te lezen wat je allemaal hebt gedaan en meegemaakt.
Hier gaat alles zijn gangetje, zijn druk bezig om alle potten met planten te voorzien van een draagbeugel.
Sanne , nog veel succes met je onderzoek.
Liefs,
Gonnie en Jos -
27 Januari 2013 - 18:00
Sandra:
Hoi Sanne,
Een week geleden was je jarig...nog gefeliciteerd! Hoe heb je daar je verjaardag gevierd?
Heb je al een recept geproefd die in je boekje komt?
Heel fijn om weer wat van je te horen, lijkt me heel moeilijk om veel arme kinderen en
mensen te zien, wetende dat je helpt maar niet iedereen kan helpen.
Fijn ook dat het goed gaat! Keep on doing great work, u make a difference :)
Gr. Sandra -
11 Februari 2013 - 15:54
Karin Kortenhorst:
Hey lieve Sanne,
Bijzonder om zo jouw leven mee te beleven. IK heb je mail weer opgezocht omdat ik je nog van harte wil feliciteren met je verjaardag. Is jde verjaardag een belangrijke dag daar? Heb je een leuke dag gehad? Sanne ik kijk al uit naar je volgende bericht. Veel liefs en een zoen. Ook van Max Dana en John.
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