a questionnaire

 While in Bangkok, I spent some free time following the spiral through the interwebs until I happened upon dozens of videos from the Bravo show, Inside the Actor's Studio.

It was as fantastic as you think it was.

After watching a handful of episodes (and oh my gosh, there is an episode with Bradley Cooper and it is so emotional, because the guy just graduated from the school which houses the show, and it was just so dang sweet to see him and James Lipton, who conducts the interviews, to just lose it throughout the show because of how in awe they both were that he was there, and the whole point of the school, and show, had come true.  (And, thought inside a thought, how freaking GOOD was Bradley in the Silver Linings Playbook?! I was blown away! Homeboy totally deserved the Oscar, for shame!)), I got caught up in the questionnaire that Mr. Lipton asks his guests at the end of each interview.  You can read the info in the link above, but it is based on a French show, which is based on an old, old questionnaire.

So I've decided, signed and stamped the decree, that each year, I'll subject Topher and myself to this interview.  See how it all changes, as we do.

So let's begin.

First up, Chris.

It was fun to do this with Topher because of how challenging he found all of these questions.  I even had time to pee before he gave him the answer for the first- FIRST- question.

Regarding number three's answer (genuine humility), it was such a great moment when he said that, for me, as his wife.  Humility is probably the characteristic that I strive to be, that I focus on, more than any other, every day.  Mainly because, frankly, it does not come easily to me.  But I truly believe it to be the cornerstone to everything we do in life, if we wish to do it well, and with others.  His answer was a great reminder, to me, to strive for humility not only because of its value to me, but to my husband as well.

Next up, yours truly.

I took a bit more lighthearted spin to my answers. But they are truthful, nonetheless.

 Ok, so let's just begin with this.  I just love saying Kilimanjaro. It just rolls off the ton so nicely, doesn't it?  And I hate the long version of the word hippo because I really, truly, struggle to say it correctly the first time.  I have to concentrate for a hot minute to get my tongue to wrap itself around overlapping 'p' and 't' sounds.

It's highly embarrassing.

And, for me, number six and nine go hand in hand because I simply cannot stand seeing an animal in pain.  I could not handle dealing with sick or injured pet's day after day, which is why I could never be vet.  Such huge kudos to those who do this- you are my hero.

And finally, regarding number ten, I'd like to believe that at the pearly gates, the most important thing that's going to matter to the entity that created me/looked out for me/guided me/whatever is whether or not I was a kind, compassionate, helpful, just, loving, hardworking person.  And I'm going to stick with that.

Finally, it was rather challenging for me to answer the questions until I first separated out my answers for my current life here in Cambodia.  There are so many things that I love, and that drive me nuts, here.  And so, this:

Barang is probably my least favorite word because it is yelled to me, said about me, inferred about me before knowing, and in general, the bane of every foreigner living in Cambodia's existence.  And I just feel defeated trying to refute it, or open people's minds that being lumped into a mass group of 'other' simply because I'm not from Cambodia is exhausting and frustrating. Le sigh.

Lastly, I'd love and be terrified of being a journalist here. I'd love to meet people from around the country, tell their story, question their leaders.  But there is also some danger in that too, as press isn't truly free here.  Which is all I can really say about that!

...........

What would be YOUR answers to the questionnaire? Offer them up in the comments!

american. abroad.

About a week ago, Topher and I returned from a near-two-week hiatus wherein we jaunted around Thailand and Malaysia.  It was a lovely good time, too.  And I have such grand plans to enthrall you all with the images and stories that encapsulated our time there.

But then, as I was getting settled in and ready to write all about it, Boston happened.  And it never feels right to write on as if nothing has happened, when you're reminded, again, just how much it feels like the world is falling apart, broken pieces, hearts, drifting upwards.

So before we move on with life as normal, this is what I jotted down the morning after (my Tuesday morning, and America's Monday evening.)

>>>>>>>>>>>>


I caught some updates of people at the marathon via facebook and twitter before going to sleep last night- I woke up having dreamed about Boston. It's nuts.

It's all very selfish that one of my first thoughts upon reading about the devastation is to think about how I had just been visiting the streets of Boston in my dream- me, my, I- when I was not there, I did not witness what many, I've heard, will scar them for life- physically and emotionally.  But isn't it rather human to bring catastrophic events down to life size, to chunk them into more manageable pieces- pieces we can view through the lens of our own life?  That's what I'll tell myself as these selfish thoughts run through my mind.

I put off clicking through to CNN as long as I could.  Not because I was afraid, or even really avoiding.  I just had to take a moment to let the tragedy of it all sink in.  I filtered some information through Chris,who was knee deep in reading about it, as I sat there and thought, whilst checking my email.

Being abroad during terrifying and tragic occurrences is like feeling the boom of a huge sound seconds after it happens- the echo of it, hitting you hard in the chest, reverberating. 

For me, it's like when we went to the air show, and the boom of the jets flying overhead hit me, not immediately, but one second after they had passed overhead.

Image. Sound. Impact. BOOM.

Sandy Hook. Boston. Hurricane Sandy.  Hugely terrible things happened.  Happened while I was sleeping.  Terrible things I heard about only the morning after- the evening of, US time.  Like an echo, made corporeal, hitting me in the chest.

I put off diving into the deep, black waters of information about Boston because once you sink down, it's hard to climb back out.  It's hard to turn your back on the pain of your own country, of the people who are you, who are American.  It's hard to ignore it, too, even when you try. 

The boom, it always gets you, and it knocks you down.

Sending my love and thoughts to all around the world, who face tragedy like this daily, whose screams are never heard, and for those who are left behind, to remember it all.

Sending this love and these thoughts especially to my countrymen today. To Boston.

a view into some of the deeper, darker thoughts

This month, our bi-yearly report came due.  Twice a year, Peace Corps Volunteers take a few hours to gather the informal and formal data we've gathered, write up detailed notes about our projects, and reflect on our experience and service so far. 

This time around, my third time completing my form, I have been inspired by a fellow PCV to actually lay out my thoughts from that form for you all.  I will likely share a number of reflections I've had and reported to my Program Manager here, but first up is the one that is inspired by Christin- my challenges.

I don't pretend that my thoughts are entirely eloquent, and they may even lack that vital element of humility that I try to embody every single day.  But they are from the heart, written nearly two years into this experience of living in a brand new place, amongst brand new cultural ideals.  That said, take it all with a grain of salt.

With that, here is what I jotted down.

**********

What challenges have you faced in your project or other areas of your Peace Corps experience?

There are a myriad of small challenges that Americans, particularly American volunteers, face each day living in Cambodia. Most of them are insignificant- dealing with extreme heat coupled with lack of air conditioning, large, disease-ridden mosquitoes out to suck our blood, and the real and present danger that the next food item we eat may be covered with bacteria that our body has never seen and, when ingested, will react violently to.

I've had the same challenges that many PCVs face- my trainees do not have free time for clubs that I thought I'd be able to start, mainly because they spend their evenings and midday breaks preparing their own lessons or getting extra money teaching classes. I've had projects start and stall and be inconsistent because of holidays, scheduling changes (they seem to change monthly), commitment from people who then are unable to meet that commitment, etc.

But none of these surface level challenges tend to get me down twenty months into my service. They are a part of my life, and they only serve to remind me of how truly lucky I have it when I live in America.

It is the deeper challenges that cause me sincere distress at this point in my service. Huge, cultural challenges that either prevent me from doing my work, or prevent me from feeling successful in my work.



BEING A FEMALE IN AN ENTIRELY MALE DOMINATED SCHOOL ENVIRONMENT

Without a doubt, the greatest challenge I have faced in my service has been being a female amongst a team of entirely male co-teachers. My experience has been largely defined by the men that I do my primary work with, and it has not been overwhelmingly positive. I'm aware that female Volunteers face challenges with their female counterparts, but, having recently finally been given the opportunity to work with a female counterpart, I am more aware of the differences between what my work is like with a female as compared to a male Khmer co-teacher.

My very first day at the RTTC [Regional Teacher Training Center], I showed up fifteen minutes before a meeting was set to begin. I was the first person to arrive, so I sat down to study some Khmer. As teachers began to trickle in, I greeted each of them politely, explaining who I was. Eventually, some of the English teaching staff arrived. When they saw me, they immediately knew who I was. The very first thing they said to me, before finding out my name, was that it would have been better if I was a man, or, since I was a woman, if the female English trainer who is normally on staff was not out for the year. They told me it would be much easier to learn the culture and be a teacher at the RTTC if she had been there.

They were 100% correct. Though I've been frustrated by that interaction for a number of months, I've recently come to realize that they predicted so accurately my two years of service that I wish I could go back to the Kate in October 2011 and tell her not to be angry- but to acknowledge this piece of wisdom, thank them for it, and then move on.

I have had four male counterparts during my service. One of them, who was not given English classes this year and thus I was forced to discontinue teaching with, is an exception to the statements I am about to make.

In my daily work with my male counterparts, I am never asked my opinion on a lesson strategy. Often, I am asked if I have an "idea" for what to teach that day. I have given a number of answers to this questions- from, "yes I have this great idea for a new strategy to teach XYZ" to "I have some thoughts, but I'd love to hear yours"- and nearly all answers were usually met with a shake of a the head, and then my co-teacher telling me what the plan is. I have had success in bringing new techniques and ideas to class when I am the sole person presenting- either because I am teaching the lesson alone, or because my counterpart has given me the allotted space or time to cover a topic or hour. When given this freedom, I have brought in a different personality and style to teaching, provided different resources for English or pedagogical development. In this vein, the near entirety of my experience co-teaching with my male coteachers has been using the model of shared teaching- we each teach a separate, distinct section of the lesson, with very little idea-bouncing or energy-trading while the other person is in the front.

I have had a range of mostly negative experiences with my co-teachers willingness to try both a) new things and b) provide the students with the knowledge I believe necessary to become successful teachers. In one case, I have one coteacher whom I have found to be very rigid and unwilling to view my teaching style and techniques as anything he could ever adapt for himself. I have been told by this teacher that he is not a woman and cannot act like me in the classrom- that what I do only works in America or because I am American, and would not work for him. When I finally felt comfortable providing feedback and ideas to improve his instruction, I was met with an uncomfortable laugh and an unwillingness to change. When I then felt it was time to provide some firmer feedback, I found small success only when it came to improving his English - never his methodology. Even when I provided corrections to his word usage, pronunciation- along with context of why it was incorrect, softened with a story of how I made similar mistakes learning Italian or Khmer- I was still confronted with questions like "are you sure?" and "well, this is how we say it when we are Khmer speaking English." Only with a much more forceful repeating of the feedback was it accepted.

With one co-teacher that I began working with this year, I was asked numerous times why I was qualified to work as a trainer at the RTTC. In the year prior, he had said, during a simple chatting sessions amongst teachers, the he did not 'believe' me when I spoke about enjoying my time in Cambodia, and went on to question much of what I was saying. There is a chance I didn't understand his humor- that I still don't understand his humor- but it soured our relationship before it had even began. When we did finally teach together this year, we had a very strong first few classes. I brought in some new ideas, he enjoyed them and I even had a glance into the relationship many have with their co-teachers, as I saw him take a lesson I'd delivered the class before and make it his own with some of my flourishes in the next class. We left that day agreeing we were a 'great team.' Something- I still don't know exactyl what, perhaps it was my lack of grammatical rule knowledge? - deteriorated our common ground. One day, he asked me what degree I had, expressed surprised I had my master's in teaching, made a reference to the previous (male ) PCV who knew a lot about grammar, and then made a comment vaguely referencing aspects of English that are easier for men to learn than women. Since then, it is difficult to work with him. He does not wait for me to go to class and will often park his moto near the classrooms while I am waiting on the other side of the building to enter with him. He will do the majority of the teaching himself, while I stand to the side.

Because of my adherence to cultural division between men and women (which I do out of respect and a desire to not be seen as a loose, American woman), I have never been able to develop a deep relationship outside of teaching with these men. I know- because I've seen it and because Peace Corps teaches us that trust and knowing the other person is the quickest way to build a strong relationship that will lead to efficacy between co-teachers- that having a solid personal relationship with these men would have greatly helped me effect a greater change with them in the classroom. I know because my husband has done amazing, amazing things with his male counterparts and friends. They are able to relate to each other in a way I never can as a woman. I know because now that I have a female counterpart, I finally have a relationship both inside and outside the classroom with a woman, and our students are succeeding because of it- because of our shared goals, laughter, and thoughts.



MY WORK BEING SEEN AS INSIGNIFICANT/NON EFFECTIVE BECAUSE IT CAN'T BE "SEEN"

I've shared this with my Program Manager, but my most recent challenge has been the repetition that I need to leave behind an 'achievement' at my RTTC before I go. When my counterpart first asked me what my achievement would be, I had to ask him to clarify. He gave examples like building a new classroom, or library, or computer lab (all of which my school has), or paving the walkways between the school buildings or fixing the bathroom or, even, building a new bathroom!

Luckily, this topic was broached late enough into my service that I felt comfortable being direct- but polite- with my coteacher. I explained the three goals of peace corps, and that goal number 1- what I do at the school- has nothing to do with leaving behind an 'achievement.' I felt successful because many of our second year trainees spoke English better, used more resources when they taught, had more confidence in front of the classroom. He was confused by this explanation of my 'achievement' and pressed the issue a number of times after the initial conversation.

I- and I think, nearly every single PCV- am confronted with the challenge of my work being seen as lacking value or impact because it isn't something I did or built. Because tangible items- like an English library or a world map- have already been completed by previous PCVs or NGOs, I am left with spending my time focusing on what I thought I came here to do - capacity build, train, provide expertise, knowledge, skills. And then being seen as not leaving behind anything of significance, and being completely deflated by a cultural distinction that I vehemently disagree with. I am conflicted in my desire to be understanding of the cultural/Khmer way of viewing schools/roads/bridges etc as examples of 'foreign aid' and 'progress' while also desiring to be direct and upfront that that, while that all aid can be valuable, it will be people-provided sustainable aid which will be truly progressive and change-making in the long run for Cambodian society.

Honestly, I think this is perhaps the greatest mindset issue which all PCVs- both health and education- face, because our primary projects are mostly intangible- we are building skills, providing training and knowledge, community education- and are thus seen as not really giving much to the community, as they can't be SEEN or TOUCHED, we are constantly questioning our ability to be a contributing part of the community in which we've learned to live.

The final thing my counterpart said when he brought up my 'achievement' was that, though no one would ever tell me, the people at my school would speak negatively about me, my service, my impact, behind my back if I didn't leave behind a tangible accomplishment for the school. They would discuss it when I left, and it would be one of the most memorable aspects of my time as "Kate, PCV."

And when I think about that, I'm left completely deflated and questioning the worth of the energy I've poured into my trainees and coteachers for the past 20 months, and the value of my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer. And I'm left frustrated and disheartened about the future of the culture, community and country I've come to love, because I worry that too much emphasis is placed on insignificant achievements, and very little pride is left for the people who do the hard work of building a stronger, smarter nation.

*******

As a final note, I don't feel this way all day, every day.  This is a summation of building sentiments over time.  Frankly, I love every minute I spend with my trainees, with my host family, with the people around me, and I am confident that I have done something of value, of worth here.  If not just for my community, most certainly for myself.  And that brings me immense joy, and immense fulfillment.

do you hear what i hear? (a cultural comparison of sounds)

A month or so ago, I shared my first attempt at an infographic, succinctly breaking down different aspects of Khmer culture (at least, my understanding of it) as compared to my own culture in America.

Today, I finally present my second attempt. 

There's a lot of talk amongst Peace Corps Volunteers about how loud Cambodia is to our daily life in America.  I hesitate to say it's louder outright- but there are a myriad of sounds that are not a part of my everyday life in Maryland- and yes, some do seem to be starkly louder than what I knew before.  However, I'd go so far as to say that Cambodia isn't necessarily louder- more so that America's sounds are stifled, muffled, by tall building, thick walls, and a life lived mostly inside.  In contrast, life in Cambodia happens outside, for all to see, hear, enjoy.

In the graphics below, I've tried to capture sounds throughout the day, from sunrise to sunset, as represented by a darkening sun and its rays.

 Those of you in either place- what would you add to my breakdown?

gong khnyom (my bicycle)

Well, March just really got away from me there, didn’t it? It just slipped by as I went about my daily work, unsuspecting that I’d reach the end of it and have a mere two posts to show for it. Part of it is I’ve been making a concentrated effort to spend less time at my computer- with less than four months left here, I don’t want to wish I had done anything differently- and part of it is that I’ve been sublimely happy this month, working alongside my new counterpart (she’s basically the bomb, and deserving of that dated and somewhat tragic euphemism). I’ve been spending time planning new and invigorated lessons, and I have more energy to do all the things. So, less time inside the small white box with keys, and more outside, in the world, being.

But the focus of this post is actually how I get there- to the outside world. I’ve been using a gifted item for the past 21 months, and I figured it was about time to share my thoughts with all of you regarding the bicycle that Peace Corps Cambodia was kind enough to send to me. Hopefully, it goes without saying, this review is entirely my own, though I was given this item to me for the express purpose of its use, and I’m assuming, eventual review here on the interwebs.**

To the outside eye, my bike resembles your typical, average, everyday two-wheeled contraption. I thought that when I first received it. It did strike me as something new and different when I realized that the bike Peace Corps was gifting me was more than just a method of moving about- it was freedom.

My freedom is a cool, creamy ivory- a big juxtaposition to the typical silver plated bikes I see about town- with a roomy, spongy seat. No tiny, bikini-covered-parts crushing here, no sir! I have tested this bike on two very long bike rides, and I can tell you, it really lives up to its advertising. My butt only begins to ache after hour two, and transitions to numbness after hour four. I mean, that’s basically a reason to spring for one right now!

To make the bike a bit more me, I did add some yellow duct tape in spirals around the frame, and name it Bumblebee. I think adding the name has really bonded the bike and me in a way that I’ll never forget. I’m pretty sure that naming my transportation has led to said transportation to be kind to me. I have had minimal problems with my bike, aside from the expected bi-weekly air pump-ups, and the few times I’ve had to have the inner tube mended. (Well, there was that one time I had to buy a whole new inner tube, and it did cost $2.50, which hurt a bit, but I’m apt to blame the not-actual-asphalt-but-concrete-covering-giant-piles-of-loose-rubble roads I circulate on.)

I really think that Bumblebee can feel my love and gratitude streaming through my fingertips to the handlebar, and my tippy toes to the pedals, and this love has been returned threefold in the ease of caring for my bicycle.

I do feel like I have to mention that just this week, my back tire did finally break at a seam, and I had to purchase a new one. I guess it’s to be expected after 21 straight months of use (plus who know how many other months of use by a previous Volunteer! Oh yes, a key aspect- these bikes are recycled, which can only be good things for the environment!) I’d need to invest in something grander than just air for 7.5 cents every two weeks. Luckily, I happen to have a husband who carries more money than me (I average my daily needed .50 cents for breakfast and .60 cents for diet coke in my wallet each day), and he forked over the cash. I’m currently seeking ways to keep him from remembering that he paid, so suggestions welcome!

All in all, I have to say that if I were in the market to say goodbye to my friends and family for two years, move to a foreign (in every aspect) land, and seek to become a true part of a new community, I’d want a bicycle from Peace Corps Cambodia under my rump each day. Highly recommend this adventure and this bike, friends! Get thee to a recruiting office, now!



**This is not a real review of an item gifted to a blogger. This is satire.

on voluntourism

“I think that there’s a lot of well meaning behind what’s considered voluntourism, where people go and they want to experience the culture of another place where they’re not from and also to gain a greater understanding of what issues face those areas...but [their volunteering] is in a way that doesn’t really help to resolve the issues. It’s more of a one-way interaction where they may gain more knowledge on an issue, maybe there’s a donation involved to a local charity...but it doesn’t do anything to address any of the root causes of the issues...It may make the person feel good about themselves…but it doesn’t make the community feel good about themselves, because they’re being objectified and only being seen as having problems.” Source

One of the most interesting aspects of our life in Cambodia are the daily interactions with our community and town.  Now that we have lived here for a year, it's easy to begin to get a big head with all of the "Hello, teacher!" and "Hello, Kate!" shouts that come at me when I bike to school, or the market, or home again.  Especially in our neighborhood, everyone knows us.  We very rarely get any crazy stares, and if we do, it's easily ended with a quick hello and then inevitably someone nearby explains in Khmer that we are teachers living here as volunteers.

Sometimes though, when we venture down the main road, it's hard not to get a bit rankled at all of the eyes staring and trying to determine if we are the teachers that are living in the town for two years that they have heard about/seen before or one of the many random foreigners that stops by for a week to volunteer at an orphanage that caters to the SE Asian travelers looking to "give back" or "do something different" with their time.

In the beginning, every time we got off the bus when returning from Phnom Penh, we would have to explain again that we did not want a tuk tuk to take us to the orphanage, and we would not pay five dollars because, dang it, we live here and we know it should cost seventy five cents!  Now, the drivers know us and will tell us where we live to get us to ride with them, but sometimes they'll cram one of the unwitting foreigners into the tuk tuk with us, charging them who knows how much to take them to the orphanage after dropping us at our home.

It can get very frustrating explaining again and again that I didn't come to work at the orphanage, that I do speak Khmer, and that yes, I agree that they dress inappropriately while visiting us in our town here in Cambodia.

These foreigners who come to stay are partaking in what has been deemed "voluntourism."  It gained popularity in the nineties and has taken off as a niche in travel for the people who believe that they can accomplish a great deal of things in a very short time.

As a whole, I'm not a big fan of voluntourism.  I spent some time doing some research to back up what felt like misgivings and bad feelings about the people who spend a day or week in our town, and much of what I read backs up my original thoughts. 

Though there are responsible organizations that plan trips to other countries for travelers looking to do something different that simply hotel-hop, and take the time to create a plan that has the community's vested interest and support, as well as train the volunteers who will spend a few weeks or months living in this new country, these organizations are few and far between. 

Most companies and organizations seek out short term visitors to help a community build something, or fix something, or learn something, without doing the legwork of ground-up development that considers community impact and investment or sustainability of the work being done by the voluntourists. 

I don't think taking one's time to volunteer while traveling is inherently a bad thing; I applaud people who wish do so.  What I don't applaud are the means by which people "volunteer" nor the consideration of what is actually being done in the very short time they are in a community, and what happens after they leave.

(What's crazy too is that much of the literature and studies that show how and why voluntourism is harmful cite Cambodia, and especially Cambodia's orphanages!) 

Source

A most lucrative source, published just last month, sums up my feelings in many ways better than me.  One of the women cited in the article, herself someone who works to bring people to communities who need skilled workers, agrees with me that voluntourism "seems to be based on a simplistic understanding of what the problems of international development are."

Every single day in my community, I see issues that need addressing, problems that need solutions, changes that need to occur.  One year in, I finally feel that I have the greater perspective of which of these issues, problems and changes are actually necessary, and not based on my own cultural bias, and which are feasible, meaning things that I believe my community also believes needs to change and wants to put in the effort to do so, alongside myself.

This is possible because I will remain in my community for another year, and the Peace Corps offers the chance for an extension of my service if I have a worthy, unfinished job or project.  Now that I have scraped a little beyond the surface of my new home and country, I am equipped to tackle the longer term challenges that face the men and women I meet, and provide the skills and training I was brought here for to assist them in pursuing the jobs and projects and changes they deem necessary and that fit my abilities.

Voluntourism is too often the opposite of this approach.  Many people, young and old, arrive in a location (very often, an orphanage, especially in Cambodia) and are given the choice of how they want to "help" the community or children or whatever population has been decided needs serving.  From what I can tell, very little thought is often given to recruiting the correct voluntourists for specific jobs.  People with no prior training helping build homes or bridges or beds; fix stoves or bikes or irrigation routes. 

Often, voluntourists "teach" when they volunteer for the short period.  For the short time they visit the volunteering location, they share their knowledge of (usually) the English language, often without knowledge of what has been taught before or the target language of the group.

One of my biggest worries about voluntourism comes from the impact of short-term volunteering, like teaching, with children.  As the article I cited above points out, "another pitfall of voluntourism is that often it can have the opposite of its intended effect, and actually harm communities in developing countries."  Usually, "there was no needs assessment done. It’s just the photo op: I’m going to hold a baby for one week and feel like I’m volunteering."

Which begs the question: what about that baby or those children?  What if they build an attachment to the voluntourist, who leaves and may never return?  The article points out that there can be "a sense of abandonment."  I'm already lamenting saying goodbye to the youth that I've worked with just this past year, and I'm so grateful I've been able to build meaningful relationships based on my knowing the local language such that I can clearly explain my role in the community, and what I hope will happen after I leave next year.

Daily, however, what can prove most irritating are the moments when I bike past some visiting foreigner riding in the tuk tuk that the orphanage owns, wearing clothing that is nothing short of scandalous in Khmer society where baring your knees and shoulders is nearly nonexistent.  Every single time, I see at least one person wearing shorts that barely cover their behind, or a loose fitting tank top that exposes their bra and their breasts.  It's even worse when, often, the clothing items are very dirty.

Khmer people pride themselves on their clean, put together look.  I have never been with one of my co-teachers, even on a relaxing visit, when they are not wearing either a collared shirt, or a pressed tee shirt tucked in to their slacks.  Women never go without a bra, and strive to never let it be seen in public.  

When I see the way visiting voluntourists dress, I am frustrated and angered by the lack of respect for my community or lack of awareness that they even need to build an understanding of what cultural respect looks like.  It not only affects the way that others in my community view me and my work - I am often asked if I saw my "friend" at the Telamart the other day, or my "friend" who was riding their bike without a shirt last week, and I have to explain that I am not friends with all foreigners, and that I too think they are very impolite and disrespectful of the country they are visiting - but it affects the general image and understanding of the West and other cultures.

“Sometimes people undertake these activities who aren’t very sensitive to local culture or local customs. They could even behave in a way that might appear shocking to local communities...It could be around gender roles, it could be through sexual activity, it could be around drinking or using illicit drugs, [or] it could be in the way they dress. So sometimes [overseas projects] might—rather than build bridges between communities—make communities more suspicious of foreigners than they would have otherwise been.” Source

My frustration with lack of respect extends beyond dress.  I found a blog of a visitor to my actual village, to the orphanage I've mentioned, and I was struck by the attitude the voluntourist displayed toward my community and the events they were witness to.  I don't want to link to the blog specifically, but there are some statements that the blogger made that help me ascertain that voluntourism does not allow for a real understanding of a culture of community to build, and could damage relationships that longer term, more sustainably-approached volunteers have worked to create.

This tourist, volunteering at the orphanage, mentioned that there are always "loads of kids around the orphanage to entertain" but when they got bored on a Saturday night, they "sent off" one of the organization's workers to "get hold of a couple of bottles of rice wine for us to kick off the evening" for them to play "drinking games" before heading off to a "local concert...happening at the football field up the road" (side note: that football field is one and same that I wrote about for our opening ceremony, on my school's campus.) The voluntourist spent some time listening to "some pretty awful local crooners up on stage" until it became "pretty grating", when they proceeded to "hit the local karaoke joint."

Though the voluntourist does not mention it, it's worth noting that karaoke bars are often fronts for brothels, and if not, young women are employed at the bars to spend time with the customers (which can often lead to more.)

Finally, the tourist mentioned that a wedding was happening, which they were hoping to "sneakily crash" but proved difficult to do with "armed police guards on the door."

I don't believe this person was mal-intentioned or meant any harm to my community by coming here to volunteer at the orphanage, get drunk on rice wine and attempt to crash a wedding.  But I can't help but imagine the impact it had on the people who were "sent off" to get the rice wine or the wedding attendees who may or may not have seen foreigners hovering outside the door, attempting to take pictures like they were visiting a tourist trap.

I honestly believe volunteering's one's time and talents is one of the most rewarding things to be done in this life.  However, doing so without the full picture of the people whom one is "helping", without the full understanding and respect of a culture that one is "helping" within, or without asking the questions about one's qualifications or impact for "helping" is wrong.

Why do we need to make giving back easy?  If it was easy to help others, would there even be a need? Simple solutions are not really solutions at all- they are quick fixes, often designed to make the people offering those solutions feel good, rather than actually solve the problem of the people or community being served.

There is a lot more information out there, much of it about the harmful effects of voluntourism at orphanages in Cambodia, and there are many more reasons why a person should stop and consider the impact of voluntourism beyond the ones that rankle me daily here in my new community (such as taking the jobs of local workers, and the impact on the emotional development of children left behind by voluntourists.) Read here, here, or here or watch this short video here, filmed in Phnom Penh.

What are your thoughts on voluntourism?