Job: check.

The notorious "unemployable" is now just the opposite. I am employed, therefore, employable. It is nothing glamorous (surprise) and it is not experience that I will be able to apply to any future career (Lord, have mercy on me and give me a future career). It is, however, a pastime that I not only have much experience in, but one that I have semi-perfected. I say semi because each day brings a new surprise in the form of temperamental moods. I am a nanny, yet again. The ever-capable care-taker of children. A modern day Mary Poppins that lacks the flying umbrella and whose "children" are active members of today's "spoils" system". Do not mistake them for bratty, that they are not, they can be sweet; however, being children of our society today, they have lost that certain innocent and obedient quality that was once innate to the kids of past generations. What they want is what they get, and God forbid you tell them "no". Oh well, it is only temporary and I move ever onward.
So now that I have a schedule, a commitment(not my favorite of words) and an income, it is time that I focus on the future. My future: my academic/professional/personal/mental future. The possibilities seem endless. Here I am, at this point in my life where I feel I have too many options, so many to pick from that I am having such a difficult time doing just that. Maybe I'm a part of the "spoils system" after all. Just a few months ago I was traveling through countries in which most of the members of their societies have little to no options. They are born, they are raised, and they will die in the same place, doing the same thing. They don't have many "career" options. They are lucky to have any job at all that can provide food for the table. Every person in this country, however, has an opportunity, every person in this country is capable, and with motivation, is likely to overcome discouraging odds. So here is the problem I can see with having all the opportunities in the world: not taking full advantage of them; having the fear that your lack of success will be disrespectful to all those who don't have the options, as if you wasted it-- that we are products of a wasteful society. I guess I have to silence the fear and not give it a surface to thrive upon.
So for now I have a job and what's left is to create a clear path in a forest of options with many intersections. It seems that everyone else is doing it, so surely, then, I am capable.

If You're Happy and You Know It...

I had a life first this week. I applied, interviewed, accepted, started and quit a job in less than one week. I know what you are thinking: "this girl finally gets a job and then quits?" Here was the problem: false advertising. After weeks of perusing Craig's List job vacancies I found one that seemed suitable for me, Gymboree Teacher (Development classes for babies to five year olds). However, what initially seemed to be a teacher role very quickly turned into an entertaining clown role. I should have known from the beginning that this was NOT what signed up for, but I was too blinded by the possibility of work and an income. After two days of training and feedback such as "You are too laid back" or "Try and be more peppy" or "You should be clapping practically the whole time, Maggie" I started to come to the realization that no amount of hourly wage(well, that may not be entirely true) was worth the downhill slope at the bottom of which no dignity would be left. Dramatic, you think? No. I was at the mercy of 2 year olds telling me with their eyes (and the eyes of their unsympathetic parents) to "jump, clown, jump". After a formal resignation I promptly received an email from the director that hired me as a form of "consolation". Basically trying to assure me that there is nothing wrong with me but that it does take a person with very special skills to fulfill such a duty...and in the end she said "she's not surprised". Gee, thanks, am I that transparent? Were my clown inabilities really that obvious? Can I really not even convincingly fake acting as a total goof in front of gawking children and their parents. Well, that's another ridiculous career option I can check off my list, only about 232 more until I have narrowed the list down to the golden few...
P.S. When singing "if you're happy and you know it clap your hands", just clap, seriously, always clap, or the wrath of a stay at home mom will come upon you and your firstborn.

Samantha Brown, you are such a tease.

I am beginning to believe that the sole purpose of all of Samantha Brown's charming shows is to rub in that "You, Maggie, will never have a job like mine". Deliberately or indeliberately, Samantha Brown has a way of putting my life in rather harsh perspective. She has met and continues to meet Hawaii, Latin America, Europe and great American weekend getaways. What have I done today? Do you really want me to waste your time? I guess in a way, I have seen those places as well, seeing as I am a faithful viewer/admirer. Why? Is it because she is charming and personable (which she is, by the way)? Or perhaps because I have a pretty impressive ability to live vicariously through people I admire, and I need material? I daydream more than probably anyone I know, the problem, however, is I have a difficult time coming back to my reality: the basement. I find myself completely far too involved in these complex faux realities in my mind. Honestly, though, you would daydream about visiting the Inca ruins of Machu Picchu at daybreak with no one around, a tour of Gothic cathedrals throughout Europe or a one-on-one lunch with Mexico's scariest Lucha Libre fighter(who turned out to be a big teddy bear in the end).
I was rejected to yet another job yesterday. It's okay. At this point I have become reasonably familiar with rejection (especially in a professional sense). What is most disheartening about this particular rejection is that unlike all the other jobs that I was not experienced enough for, Enterprise was actually looking for a candidate with little to no experience so that it could mold the lucky winner into the corporate Enterprise robot it loves and trusts. I, to Enterprise, apparently do not fulfill the "image" they are looking for. That's okay, on to the next.
In the end, I have faith that I will find something right for me. All the rejection letters, or lack thereof, are all just working together(stars aligning, perhaps) in order to find the place that is right for me. As for me, as for right now, Bourdain is calling to me, he wants me to check out mesmerizing New Jersey.

Don't Mess With Marlow

So the other day I go "job-hunting". Basically this involves driving/walking around from shop to shop hunting for "Now Hiring" signs or the occasional blatant(and intimidating because no one enjoys being publicly rejected) question of whether they are hiring and/or should you leave your resume "just in case". The consistent response to whether they were hiring was no and the common response to whether they would like to hold on to my resume "just in case" was a very indifferent and absolutely unconvincing "okay". If anyone is searching for a humbling experience spend a day going around to shops and cafes you NEVER go to in order to ask them for a job that they do not want you for. The icing on the bitter cake of my day was the last place at which I planned to drop off my resume for the day. It was a hotel cafe. Attached to the hotel was a bar and restaurant (not sophisticated by any means) in which I was supposed to wait while waiting for the manager to see me. I sat, about half an hour actually. The manager didn't come to speak with me, instead I sat in a booth dazed and confused by the bizarre scene in front of me. In a matter of about ten minutes a chef, a "resume builder for temp agencies" turned bartender and a server managed to reduce my dignity, confidence and self-respect to mere dust. All three vital restaurant employees ganged up on me and went to town. The chef after reading my resume looked at me and said, "Wow, I bet your parents aren't disappointed in you", I was speechless. Then he went on to criticize my resume and compared it to (since I'm a girl, he said, he'll put it in terms I would understand) going on a date and needing to "sell" myself, for instance wearing a short skirt, low cut shirt and a lot of make-up. Still, speechless. He also said that if he were one of the employers I sent my resume to that he wouldn't call me back either. THEN, the bartender approaches, reads my resume and is pretty much disgusted. She shows me the proper way to create a resume for professional jobs. Wow, she's so talented, she had that bar tending job in the bag... At this point, I get it, I know my resume is bad, thank you Marlow's Tavern for making that clear to me. Let us not forget to pay proper tribute to the server. He called my resume "ghetto-rigged". At this point I was so humiliated, shocked and confused that I just did not have anything left in me to stay. So after a half hour of verbal abuse from the restaurant staff, I left. There is nothing like being humiliated and insulted in public by a restaurant's staff to put your life in perspective. The best part about this experience was that I was not even applying to work in that restaurant. If that doesn't make you feel good about your employment status, I don't even know what to tell you; needless to say, not the best way to spend a Monday afternoon.

Still waiting for the epiphany...

So, here I am, sitting in my aunt's home back in Atlanta, GA, USA. You may wonder, actually I'm wondering as well, what is it that I'm doing now, 35 days home? Am I employed? No, I am not. Am I doing something to generate some income? No, I am not; right now, actually, I'm just draining the last of my savings that I brought home with me. Do I have a plan for my life, at least for the short run? No, not really. So what is it, you are probably wondering, that I do with my time. Let me take you through a pretty typical, average day. I wake up in time for lunch, which is pretty unfortunate since no one, myself included, actually wants to eat lunch when they wake up. The first couple of hours after waking up should be sustained with a breakfast type meal such as cereal, eggs or my personal favorite, Fiber One cereal bars. This is disconcerting for me because I really like lunch food. I like sandwiches, salads, soups, hot dogs, what else do we eat for lunch? What is even more disconcerting to me is that I have no will in the morning to wake up earlier, despite the fact that I enjoy the tradition of eating a cereal bar for breakfast, a sandwich at lunch and then a meal at dinner. My lack of a proper schedule is really only hurting me. What is even more alarming is that this is an issue. I have so little to report that I am informing any stranger that happens, to their misfortune, to stumble upon this post of the oh so exciting nature of my current lifestyle. I'm sorry, to anyone, who has taken three minutes out of their day to read this. You will not get the three minutes back, but keep in mind, I'm not getting any of these minutes back, and I'm right here in the middle of all this intensity...Anyway, perhaps I will create a job for myself. There is no investor to finance this endeavor, but I really don't need one now as long as I get an occasional weekly gig of either babysitting, deceiving a three-year old child into trading pacifiers for Disney Princess toys by telling her I'm the "Passy Fairy", or the occasional 'gift' from my [very old] grandfather to pay for my gas. I must show gratefulness, however, that I am not living on the street or going hungry since I have been so blessed to be able to live at my grandfather's house now at no cost to me. Things can always be worse. For anyone (doubtful) who is interested in the ever-so-interesting life of an unemployed, indecisive 23 year old college graduate who just came back from a nine-month journey from home with the only accumulated skills of budget travel and resourceful thinking, stick around. I am pretty positive that there is more to come. I have nothing else to do.

Return to the Motherland

I have spent the past couple of weeks back at home with my family in Lebanon. It was a perfect ending to very productive and fruitful nine months of travel. After living and working in New Zealand, to vigorously traveling Thailand and Cambodia, then volunteering and experiencing South Africa and finally seeing a very beautiful and picturesque area of England, I decided to end my trip back here, in Lebanon. And I am still here. My brother brought two friends with him whose extent of arabic language was "yes", "where is the bathroom?" and "the food tastes good". Surprisingly, my family and the two guys took to each other very well and were miraculously able to understand each other either through english-arabic, body language, facial expression or just blind faith that what the other was saying was understood. The two weeks we spent as a family eating (which is a very huge part of Lebanese culture), laughing, arguing/listening to politics and experiencing our fabulously rich culture were blissful. It wasn't until the end of our trip that we realized that the "labor strike" wasn't simply that, but a way for the different political and religious divisions within this country to have themselves heard, and this time it wasn't a peaceful revolution. Riots and violence in the streets of West Beirut made their way around. The "fighters", some being only zealous young boys with weapons, lit tires and cars on fires, closed off streets, shot at their opposition while hiding in buildings and some in the middle of the streets. As the army began maintaining the peace the fighting spread to other parts of Lebanon. That made travel in this country a bit more difficult. Conflicts would just break out and many people didn't know which routes to take in order to avoid it altogether. Fortunately for my brother and his friends their is a road to Syria (then to Jordan for them) that is supposedly clear and safe. Today they began their journey (and let's hope for their sake a very unexciting one)so that they can make their flight on time from Amman, Jordan to Chicago, Illinois. As for me, I was already supposed to leave but as we well know, the airport is still closed. I have the option of going to Damascus and flying from there, but unfortunately hundreds of other Lebanese and tourists had that same idea and all the seats are full. Right now I'm on a waiting list for a seat. We will see when I hopefully do get back home. How ironic that now, at the point that I'm willing if not almost looking forward to starting a "life" back home, I am unable to get there. Is this divine intervention? A sign that perhaps I'm not to go home right now? A sign that I'm supposed to keep on traveling and seeing the world through the inquisitive eyes I've been given? Only kidding, Dad, don't worry, I'm doing what I can to come back home. As for me? Do I kind of wish I did not come to Lebanon this time? There is no way. This country with its traditions, customs and political instability are all a part of me and my life. And every time I come back here I'm already wondering and hoping when the next time will be.

The Indlovu Project

Unfortunately, my time in South Africa has come to an end, but I am, however, quite grateful for the opportunity I have had here. I have spent three and a half very short weeks living in Capetown's largest squatter camp and have experienced a lot. My days mainly consisted of accomplishing random tasks wherever my two hands were needed, from feeding and holding babies in the creche, to serving lunch in the soup kitchen, to gardening and painting or simply just playing around with the "neighborhood" kids. Although it is a huge area here, the director and manager here have done a tremendous job of creating a strong sense of community. Di and Byiswa have worked very hard to build this community outreach program and, in my opinion, have made a very successful one. The soup kitchen is opened each weekday lunch to feed the elderly, sick and unemployed, as many as 200 a day, and all for the cost of about $50 per week. In fact, soon, anyone will be able to go onto the Shaster Foundation website and donate a week at the soup kitchen in honor of a birthday or holiday, in return the person who is to receive the "gift" will receive a card human mind has such an ability to adapt to its surroundings that even in such a place as the squatter camp, we got "used" to what we saw. It became a part of the life we were leading at the time. And, for me, that is a dangerous thing. I think the reason that so many people stand aside and do nothing to help such situations is because they have not seen it first hand, or do not feel the desperation. We on the other hand were living there, yet I still found myself occasionally overlooking the crucial need for change there. I had to, and still have to, remind myself to not be complacent, to not just remember the sweet children playing in the streets, but remind myself that these sweet children were sick, playing barefoot in dusty streets covered in broken glass, that many were malnourished, and some with parents who would squander the money for dinner on their afternoon drinking session. Yes, there were beautiful people with pure intentions and just wished for better lives for their families, those are the people that I can't forget to remember. A community based on this is what Di and Byiswa are hoping for, are working for. I love that place, what it represents and what it is striving to achieve. I hope to go back next year and see all of the advancements they have made. Oh, and there is a 15 minute video that basically sums up the Indlovu project and the exciting things it hopes to achieve. As soon as it is accessible on the internet, we will let all of you know! Also, if anyone is interested in lending support to Shaster and Indlovu, visit the website at www.shaster.org.za

South Africa

I believe one of the strangest things I have encountered on my trip is how quickly, and seemingly effortlessly, I adapt to my surroundings. Since early February I have been in several countries, several cultures, all very different from each other. I went from New Zealand to Thailand to Cambodia back to Thailand and then to South Africa. The only common factor these countries once shared was that I have never visited any of them before this trip. We plan, we pack, we go. New Zealand: check. Southeast Asia: check. South Africa: pending. I am having a hard time believing that I am finally on the continent that I have had such a fascination with for so many years. I am in Africa. Fair enough, I am in South Africa, but Africa nonetheless. When we first arrived here the feedback we received from locals about our plan to work and live in Kialetsche, Cape town's largest and most disadvantaged township, was discouraging to say the least. Most of the reactions were the same, a mixture of pity for our "naivety", fear for our safety and amusement at our idea. For me this was quite a disappointment. Africa was for me. This part of the trip was going to be my learning experience so such reactions were not welcomed on my part. It really frustrated me that we received no positive encouragement. Regardless, this is what I came to do, and this is what will be done. It took us quite a while to finally make it out to the township due to the busy schedule of the director, but when we finally arrived it was pretty much what I expected. Disheartening, dry, hot, overcrowded and poor. Very, very poor. Most of the homes and buildings are made out of recycled materials. By recycled materials I mean pieces of trash collected from the nearby landfill. Homes stood side by side, amongst which stood rows of toilets, randomly dispersed water taps and the occasional bar for some of the approximately 80% unemployed to pass some time. In the township there are guidelines that "guests" must abide by. There are certain streets that we just don't go down, even in our car. We are not to walk around unescorted by a local, even in broad daylight, and we are not to walk or drive around past sunset, period. I assume that as long as we follow these rules, we'll make it out in one piece :-) We were given a tour of the Shaster facilities; they are modest to say the least, but Di, the director, has some big plans. She is planning within the next five years, I believe, to convert 20,000 shacks into eco-cottages. Homes built out of sandbags and plaster using only solar power, growing their own gardens and becoming completely self sufficient--not relying on the very little that the government provides its suffering people. We went to the creche, preschool/orphange, and played with the children. Imagine about 40-50 babies and toddlers in a space about the size of your bedroom. That is the nursery. It's hot, crowded, a breeding ground for germs and bacteria and filled with the sweetest little faces. One little baby, the moment we walked to the door walked straight to Laura and reached up to her to hold him. They were all instantly consumed with their new guests. Three new faces, all of which appear to be very different from ones they have seen before. They touched our faces, rubbed our noses, examined our eyeballs and kissed our cheeks. They all vied for our attention, but unfortunately, it was difficult to spend time with all of them, seeing as there were so many of them and so few of us. For those of the children who have not lost their parents to diseases such as aids, the parents have to pay a moderately high price for the care. They have so little income and practically all of it goes to their expenses so quickly. From food to clothing to nursery to schooling to medical expenses to paying off debts, how can they possibly afford it. Thankfully, some can and thankfully the rate of extreme hunger in this township is very very small. Most families may not go to sleep very full, but they do go to sleep with something. There is a 45% aids infected rate in the township as well and TB isn't an unknown disease here either. The people go through a lot but they were still very kind and warm with us, making us feel not as strangers but as guests. We move in on Friday. We have been staying at a beautiful lodge at the beach until we made arrangements to hire a car so that we have our own transportation out there. I must say that I will be sad to leave such a comfortable and clean guesthouse by the sea but eager to experiencing life in the township. I will hopefully post again, sometime soon, but internet will not be as readily available, so my access to it will be limited. We miss you all and I look forward to seeing my family and friends in a couple months.

P.S.

Mary K and I both may pull an Angelina and bring home some Cambodian babies. If everyone would come to Cambodia once, no one will ever again make fun of her United Colors of Benetton family, the kids are adorable! They will want one too!

Au Revoir Cambodge!

Today is our final day in Cambodia, we will hopefully catch a bus back to Bangkok tomorrow and then hopefully an overnight train/bus down to the southern islands of Thialand in time for the full moon. Let me just recap how we have spent our final day here. We woke up and went to a school/restaurant to attend a morning class. Mary K and I learned to cook three traditional Khmer dishes. We were first taken to the market to pick out the fresh ingredients for our dishes. That was an event for us in and of itself. Watching men knock living frogs out by hitting them on the heads with mallets and then skinning them whole. Women scaling, deboning and cleaning fish as if it were second nature, and constantly having to dodge live fish jumping out of their boxes and onto the ground at our feet trying to escape for freedom, just to have an old woman reach down and grab it bare-handedly to throw it back in with its mates all awaiting their same fate. After that little treat we headed back and started cooking. I was pretty grossed out at first seeing all that raw meat, chicken, fish, eggs and knowing that I would be eating some of it later, but surprisingly enough, it all turned out really tasty; we're good cooks. We were given a cookbook to bring back with us, so get ready everyone for some serious Khmer cuisine! It was such fun to cook well for myself, meals I create for myself typically consist of soup and a grilled ham and cheese sandwich or eggs or something of equal simplicity. I made Amok curry with fish, Lok Lak diced beef with a sweet/tangy black pepper sauce and fresh vegetables, and a chicken hot/sweet soup with lots of pepper! After that we went back to our guesthouse and hoped on two motorcycles(the most common mode of transportation here) and were taken on tours throughout the countryside and rural villages. My parents, you may not find this next part amusing. Jokingly, I said to my driver, "So, when are you going to let me drive this thing?" Twenty seconds later, he pulled off onto a side street and told me to hop up front. By the way, this bike is manual, not automatic, and I have driven a manual car once in my life, and that was last year. So he gives me a twenty second lesson and tells me to go. I don't do it confidently, or perhaps the problem was that I was too confident. I go slowly a couple of times, not well, and stop quickly, not liking it. He told me to try again, and so I said, fine, last time. One last time was all I needed to crash the bike and we both fell over with the bike between our legs. I scraped up my right knee a bit, but a part from that, most of the damage was done to the bike. $90 worth to be precise. I now look back on it and find the amusement in it and realize it could have been a lot worse...My advice to you: next time you are in a third world country riding leisurely throughout rural villages, leave the driving to trained semi-professionals, lord knows I should.
After that we crossed over a suspended bridge (which I find to be a bit thrilling and cool) and made our way to a bamboo train. This train would be outlawed in the U.S. due to all that liability jargon, but it sure was a good time. Basically it is a small flat truck bed size raft made of bamboo with wheels and an engine. Then you just fly down an abandoned train track for a few kilometers. It's shaky, loud and the fear and threat of derailing is prevalent. We ran into another bamboo train cart coming our way, but because they had less weight on it (we had four people and two motorcycles) they had to get up, disassemble the train and wait for us to pass. How crazy is that? Only in Cambodia, I suppose! Then one of our drivers took us to his home to meet his mother and show us pictures and American books he has (a little random but friendly and warm all the same). After we came back to town and I paid the man for the damage I caused to his bike (tear) Mary K and I went and had Cambodia's best fresh fruit shake. It sure was. All the fruit is always picked fresh and nothing added to it, but mango, pineapple and banana! Anyway, just wanted to let everyone know about the "closing ceremony" in Cambodia! Wish us luck as we use the ever-so-reliable and efficient logistics system of Cambodia and Thailand...Should be interesting.

Peace out to Cambodia

We are still in Cambodia, but not for much longer. In a couple of days, and after only two weeks in Cambodia, we make our way back to Thailand, Southern Thailand, actually. These couple of weeks have simultaneously gone by quickly and slowly. Quickly because I have really loved it here and wish I could stay longer to see more places, meet more people, do more things, and try more foods. Slowly in that I have tried very hard to savor each day, to try to fully experience it so that it doesn't feel like a past lifetime that I was here. I have met lovely people, charming (and persuasive) children, learned about a new history for me, seen some pretty crazy things, tried great food, seen about a million geckos everywhere I go and have loved it all.
We went to the beach area of the country for the past few days and experienced a different aspect of Cambodia. We went to remote islands, ate barracuda, snorkeled (which I scraped my feet numerous times on the large corals), sipped fresh fruit shakes on the beach and made friends with a bunch of 12 year olds. One young boy, Da, was trying to sell me some paintings. Of course, this was another thing I really didn't need so I kept declining, politely of course, and he kept persisting. He quickly noticed my ipod, however, and focused his attention on it. In broken English, he asked me if I had any Bob Marley, so he took one earphone and I took the other and we listened. He took control of the ipod and started changing the tunes, to some pretty random ones actually and made himself comfortable. He laid on me for about thirty minutes until he decided he needed to be a bit more comfortable and laid across the chair and slept beside me for about an hour. Mary K and I just laughed and all the little girls and boys walking by to sell things would laugh and poke at him. I realized that this kid, and all the other kids are tired for a reason. Instead of playing in the water or hanging out with friends, a lot of the children have to go around all day long, in the hot Cambodian sun selling random things to take money home to their families. Most of them do it all day long and look like it, too. They try to sell anything they can. From hand-made jewelry, to fresh prawns, to manicures/pedicures, to threded hair removal. Anything to make a few bucks. It is so unfortunate that this is how too many kids spend their day, but for some of them it's the only way to have dinner or to go to school for a couple of hours, or whatever. We had two friends that would come by every hour or two and have a rest with us. We purchased stuff from both of them on other days and when I asked them how business was, they looked discouraged and said not good. No sales. The reason being the beach is saturated with child peddlers. Most people do purchase from them, but there are only so many sarongs and so many bags of fresh pineapple one can purchase. I don't really know if the kids understand that. They just see Western tourists, with what they assume to have a lot of money. How could they not want to buy such low-priced items, they wonder. And if you tell one of them you already purchased what they are selling, they sweetly and sadly say, but you didn't purchase one from me. How can you resist that? It's hard to without feeling like Cruella D'ville. One of the little girls and I played hand games for awhile and when I got up to leave, for the final time, she told me she was going to miss me because I play with her and I assume because we were so friendly with her. It made me sad to think that most of her encounters with people are so passing. She probably doesn't get to make too many friends with people seeing as everyone stays a couple of days and moves on to a different part of the country. She was an adorable kid.
We visited an orphanage one afternoon. The place was home for about 60 kids and an additional 140 for basic schooling each day. It was in a sad state to say the least. Far too small and ill-equipped for so many kids. A very yound woman was the director of the place and you could tell she loved her kids and they loved her. They were hugging all over us and vying for our attention. They were a bit dirty, wearing tattered clothing, but had addictivew smiles and laughs. They wanted to take photos, give you drawings, show you tricks, anything to make them stand out to you in your mind. We worried that maybe some thought we were coming to "look around", perhaps thinking of adopting. Their library was sad. A few books here and there, not nearly enough for so many children that live there. The playground was a very small grass field with a basketball goal and a small hut. Underfunded would be a polite exaggeration. So many kids need a lot more than what the orphanage can offer. There was one little boy, about three years old, that was left there since he was three months, brothers and sisters living there together, kids from about 3 years old to about 18. The director told us that a lot of the children cannot continue school after grade 4 because at that point they need sponsors since they have to be sent outside of the orphanage for school. She said that it costs about $24 a month to sponsor an older kid there, that includes tuition for school, books, uniform, everything. Not very much, huh? That's what I thought, but unfortunately, not too many kids get that chance.
A couple of people have asked me why we would want to see such depressing or dark places in this country, that it's sad, even border-line exploiting. But I think that it would be very selfish of us to come here, tour it, enjoy it and not take the time or effort to bear witness to their past and difficult present. Mary K heard a quote that says, "To love a country is to love its people". Moreso though, I think to love its people, you must understand where they come from, what their past was like, and possibly have a grasp of what their future may hold. These visits to the "sadder" places have helped me understand the people better, which in turn leads me to love, more.

Phnom Pehn

Two posts in less than a week? I guess once you start you just can't stop...probably not, though, who knows when I will the urge and thoughts to post next. We have arrived in the largest and capital city of Cambodia, Phnom Pehn. It is bustling, loud, polluted, a bit dirty, but the people as nice as always. Behind the insistent tuk-tuk and motor bike drivers, the inviting restaurant staff and the bright, smiling faces of the children lingers a rather dark and heart-wrenching past. Recent past, actually. As many of you know, the Cambodians have suffered disgusting injustices from the hands of their own countrymen. Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge were a communist form of government that took power in 1975 by winning power through guerilla warfare in order to restore Cambodia and its people to a purer state. A purely agrarian society in which anything otherwise was deemed tainted, evil and to be destroyed. This included having anything from modern luxuries such as cars, watches, books to those who found themselves to be superior for being educated/professionals such as doctors, lawyers, teachers, government officials, soldiers serving in the past regime, basically anything other than poor/primitive peasant and farm laborers. It started in the capital. Everyone was forced to leave the city, mainly by walking. And according to what I have read, it has said EVERYONE other than the Khmer Rouge soldiers. They displaced an entire city. All wondered into the countryside to villages where they were forced into hard labor. Let me clarify quickly, the Khmer Rouge disguised themselves as being the saviors of the people. They forced everyone to leave the capital by lying to them and telling them that the United States was planning to bomb Phnom Pehn so everyone must leave to survive. The people quickly realized that wasn't the case and saw in store for themselves a very grim future. First the Khmer Rouge began to mass execute any and all people they could find of non-farming occupations. They tortured and killed thousands of teachers, students, professionals, politicians, soldiers, people who wore glasses (they were considered intellectuals) and all of their entire families. Some were able to disguise themselves as peasants when they realized what was happening. Obviously I cannot go into details about the tragedy because then I would be writing a book, and not a very good or probably accurate one at that. I will tell you that there are estimates of up to three million of the then eight million population was tortured, executed or starved to death during the four year reign of the Khmer Rouge from 1975-1979. Here in Phnom Pehn, the largest "prison", basically a concentration camp, was housed. Not far out of the city is the "killing field". The prison was a high school where they took anyone who was "unpure" to question and torture, from babies to the elderly. They would be then transported about 14km to the killing field where they were executed and pushed into mass graves, some filled with up to 400 bodies. It is a disgusting and painful past that Cambodia has, and I urge you all to read up on it, just a bit, in order to understand what this nation is recovering from. We went to the prison and the killing fields today. It was the most difficult thing I have seen. It was impossible for me to the see the hundreds of mugshot-type pictures they have put up of the tortured and not be deeply pained. I saw a picture of a baby, probably not even the age of one yet and tears started streaming down. To know that they took this child away from her mother and tortured and killed both is too much for one to comprehend. Perhaps we don't actually, since thankfully, we were not there to bear witness. I saw one picture of a man who looked absolutely terrified, even from the photo taken at the beginning of it all, you could tell that this man knew of his fate, of the tortures that lay ahead of him. I'm sorry that this is not a cheerful post, but this is a part of my trip. These are the type of life-altering discoveries that this trip was supposed to hold for me. This is me seeing what is beyond my doorstep and beyond the pages of cnn.com. I am seeing the repairs that this nations is struggling to make. The thousands of people who don't really have enough to feed their children due to disabilities from the fight and landmines, displaced lives, a weak economy, poor to no wages because of no education and a very weak system that is still not re-built since the Khmer Rouge. I see the beggers and the street children differently, I don't blame the people for doing/having nothing with/for themselves; for some, it really is the circumstance. I thought to myself, after learning about the Khmer Rouge, that there is no way this could happen today. But I was wrong. I quickly remembered that a similar situation is happening in Darfur. I have been thinking how could the world not help the Cambodians? How could other countries have known what was happening and not do anything. It took Vietnam four years to finally invade Cambodia, dismantle the Khmer Rouge and save the people. But how come, today, we aren't doing more for the Sudanese? What can we do for them? How can we try to ease and better yet stop their suffering? Perhaps I feel zealous this way since only this morning I experienced the prisons and killing fields. I don't know, but I am sure that what I saw this morning are images that I will never forget. And hopefully urge me on enough to try and help the situations I can.

A long, long time ago...since the last post.

Hello again everyone (or anyone who still checks it out), sorry for the delay of posts. A lot has happened since the last time we have spoken. We have had an American Thanksgiving in which we prepared food for 40 people, successfully at that, we camped around the North Island for 10 days, had a hot Christmas in Wellington, went to a five day music festival to ring in the New Year, and traveled the South Island for a month, camping most of the time. And that's all just New Zealand still. It was more difficult than we expected to leave New Zealand. After five months, we ended up investing a lot more than just time in the country. We met wonderful people, saw awe-inspiring scenery, had some stomach-hurting laughs, and most of all, had an unforgettable experience. For all of us, it was our first true taste of independence and life after college. For the first time our lives were not planned out for us--our obligatory school years were over and this year was completely our decision, so much so that some of us had to defy the well wishes and hopes of our families and do what we felt was right for us. So, without beating a dead horse anymore, New Zealand (and half our trip) has come to an end. We are sad, but so eager and feeling very fortunate that we have so much more left for us.
I am now posting from Cambodia. Yes, random, exotic, unfamiliar and very enticing. We are drinking it all up. We are in a land that has experienced a very difficult past. After years of coos, forceful communism, persecution, mass genocides, starvation and many other forms of abuse and killings, the Cambodians are trying to rebuild their country and their lives. This is home to Angkor Wat, the largest set of religious temples in the world. Before and after they have become a World Heritage Site, these temples have been the pride and joy of the Khmer(Cambodian) peole. As I entered the sites of these ancient temples, I felt like I was on my own "Tombraider" expedition, and who doesn't like to feel that they are the first one to discover a treasure of this side and historical importance. It's exhilerating. We also visited a floating village. For anyone who thinks I am using this term loosely, let me be clear. It is literally a village, consisting of homes, markets, churches, shrines, schools, basketball courts and "corner"-like stores that are bobbing up and down freely on a river. An entire community commutes soley through the use of fising boats, rafts and I kid you not, small baths. It is like nothing you will see in the Western world. As stunning of a sight it is, it is also, unfortunately, comprised of some of the poorest families. A home for as many as you can imagine is a small raft with sticks creating three walls and straw/sticks/leaves creating the roof. We toured through it on a boat and saw catfish and crocodile "farms", which are basically shockingly small portions of the water roped off to raise thousands of these creatures. We are so much, however, enjoying the sweet spirit of the people who not do not just need the tourism money to survive, but who are also proud of their country and want to show it off to those who come. We still have about a week and a half here in Cambodia until we return to Thailand. Soon (I promise b/c internet is really cheap here) I will post again telling you all more about Cambodia and more about Thailand (I have plently to say about Bangkok already). Until next time...