Happy To Be Rabbits

About a week ago, the leader of the organization I work for took us to the Population and Community Development Association’s resort in Pattaya. On arrival we noticed live rabbits hopping around on a lawn next to the beach. Near the lawn, a sign asked guests to donate to the “Rabbit Freedom From Hunger Campaign”.

We didn’t know what this was about until we visited the organization’s school near Lamplaimat. There is a denuded island on one of the canals next to its entrance. It is also heavily populated with rabbits. The sign on Rabbit Island reads “No family planning. No environmental protection”

I’m told the island used to be lush and green, but was made barren by rabbits as they continued breeding. They now rely on handouts, presumably paid for by the resort fund. The point is to teach the children about the consequences of breeding without a thought for one’s surroundings.

It seems like a good idea. But, I wonder if it’s teaching the lesion it was intended to instill. The rabbits seem perfectly happy in their condom-free, handout-reliant world!

A Snarky Post About Singaporeans

I’ve been to Singapore twice. On both trips I felt like I was in an Orwell novel. On my ride in from the airport I noticed all the cars went exactly 100km/h. Not 99 and most certainly not 101. None of the flowering plants next to the freeway held a dead blossom. The city center is connected by a web of underground shopping malls. You could eat off the floors.

My most recent experience with Singaporean culture began yesterday. We were providing logistical support for a cultural exchange carnival between Singaporean collage students and Thai grade schoolers.

The Singaporean contingent danced to American and quasi-Hindi music. They also gave Thai students a taste of The Big White Rabbit, their ‘local’ candy. It just happened to come from China.

Although amusing, this actually makes sense. Singapore is a nation of immigrants mostly from China, India, Malaysia and Indonesia. So some traditions from the Old Country are inevitable. Still, most of its ethnicities seem to agree on having an exacting set of rules for just about everything.

We all played sports after lunch. First was a simple game of tug-of-war. On the Singaporean (and my) team it involved placing your center of gravity just so, and pulling in unison according to a number system. The Thais just pulled. Final result? Thai school-children 3-1.

I also managed to scratch my ankle during one of the games.  My usual course of treatment in such a case is to simply ignore the problem. The university students insisted on administering proper first-aid. This included washing the cut in saline solution, applying salve and wrapping my entire foot in gauze.

It’s not that I’m complaining. I’ve never had a scratch so well tended to in my life. But it does make a cultural point. In all of my travels I’ve never encountered a more protocol-oriented nation than Singapore.

But sometimes that’s their best trait. Today another Singaporean group arrived. We visited a village; while joking all the while they immediately tackled the problem of how to market the community’s reed mats with clarity and focus. Thanks to them I have an idea for what to do during this internship.

Although I may joke about the occasional excess in protocol, It’s what works for them. And even though it may be with a bemused smile from time to time, they’re the group I’d most like to work with.      

Going to School

 Four summers ago, I was working as a business reporter for Television Maldives. From time to time, people would stop me and tell me that they liked my reports, or ask for my autograph. I thought this was understandable. I was the first westerner to report for that country’s national broadcaster.

Four years later, I visited the Baan Huay Sala School in north-east Thailand. In one class, a girl of about 16 asked an intern who spoke Thai if she could have my autograph. Her entire class followed suit. They wouldn't let me leave until I’d signed all of their notebooks.   

The next morning we learned that we’d be teaching English at the same school on Friday. Other interns teased me about my return, but I was worried. I’d never taught English before. I didn’t know if I could get a class of notoriously shy Thai middle-schoolers talking in a foreign language.

This turned out to be no problem. My first class really got into the game.  Each of the remaining three rotations was different, but we all had a blast.  My second class was the one I’d met on my first day.  I quickly realized they’d copied the answers from their friends during lunch, so I started taking other countries from the top of my head. At first they were pissed, but later they not only looked at me with interest, but also with respect. We had a 15 min photo-opp after class; a few of the girls asked for my number in halting English.  

I was only really with the students for one day. But we had some time to bond. I don’t really know most of them, but we had our own in-jokes by the end of the day. At the closing ceremony, I was called on to say a few words. I thanked them and told them that they’d also had an impact on me. Then I turned to my last, best and most difficult class. “May Choi” (I’m out), I yelled in their local dialect. We had our own laugh.

Before I left, I think I signed each one of their workbooks, nametags, or even random pieces of paper. When they let me go from the final picture, I headed for the headmaster’s car. I sat down and gave what I’d learned was Thai had sign of friendship. I shut the door on the sound of cheers.

The headmaster drove us to a karaoke restaurant where the teachers go to unwind. He told us that he would like us to return to the school for an encore sometime this summer. Despite our demanding schedule I hope this is possible.

 I didn’t feel like singing, but the teachers finally cajoled me into it.  I choose to sing “The Impossible Dream”. As my own voice rose with increasing confidence, I could not help but feel that this moment embodied the events of this amazing day.

Cows, Temples, and History

I got to Thailand over a week before my internship at the Population and Community Development association. It took a few days to figure out the basics of living in my neighborhood of Bangkok. But, I still had a few days before I started work.  I decided to go to Siem Reap, Cambodia to see the Angkor Temple Complex.

 Before my arrival, I didn’t know much about the country. I knew that it was a French Colony. I’d heard, in vague terms, about Year Zero and the Khmer Rouge. However, I was still amazed at how the Cambodia’s communist history stilted its development. Like many Americans, I had seen pictures of rural Cambodians and their emaciated white cattle farming the land. I never expected to see any this countryside life-style near a city. Yet, that was exactly what I saw right after leaving the airport. Just outside of its tourist area, Siem Reap’s river turns into a trash-clogged dry ditch.

It’s not that Cambodia is without positives. On my first full day there I toured Angkor Wat and the surrounding temples. I opted for the ‘short tour’, thinking that it would be a rip off. It ended up being the longest short tour of my life, spanning 9 hours and 12 temples for only $13.  

By talking to some of the temple guardians I came away with a new understanding of the country’s plight. “There used to be a large statue of Buddha here but it was looted 200 years ago” became a common story.  Sandwiched between more powerful Thailand and Vietnam, Cambodia lost much territory to each nation. In fact, French intervention may have been the only factor that saved the country from complete partitioning between its neighbors. As a Polish-American, I can appreciate the similarities in history.

During my final temple visit it began to rain. In a vain attempt to avoid getting drenched I headed back to my remorque. On my way, I noticed a Cambodian family was also trying to get out of the downpour. They were hearing their cattle through the front gates of the temple ruins. The Cambodia that we see in movies or pictures is not just made for the cameras. It exists. It is real. It is the true face of a nation

The organization I work for has many rural business development programs in Cambodia. There has been some talk about allowing the interns to visit these projects. I hope these discussions prove fruitful, so that I can gain a deeper perspective on the modern Khmer empire.

Remorque Travel

 As a tourist in Siem Reap I got around mostly by Remorque. They really appeal to my inner (or often not-so-inner) snob. Think of it as your private chariot, but pulled by a motorbike and driver instead of a horse. Many of them are quite nice, allowing you to lazily lounge about as you go bouncing over pothole filled roads.

If it Rains? No problem. The driver will stop, pull down the curtains and keep driving as you stay high and dry on your over stuffed couch. Beats a tuk tuk any day. 

The Real 'People's State'

Before I left for south-east Asia I watched the first part of Ayn Rand’s ‘Atlas Shrugged’. I wanted to know how the story ended so I started reading the 1,500 page novel. As a business student I found much of the work’s objectivist philosophy to be of merit. The plot deals with how corrupt government officials and their allies can appropriate entrepreneurial gains for their own interests. It shows how this can retard a nation’s growth and even bring it to its knees.

These literal implications of the novel seemed a bit far-fetched to me until I visited Cambodia. On my last day there, I had a chance to talk with my hotel’s owner.  He told me that the country has remained an unofficial communist dictatorship since the fall of the Khmer Rouge 40 years ago. Mostly, it has remained under the rule of a single family.

 Many commodities and state assets have been subject to government manipulation.  In a country where some cannot afford the costs of subsistence, gas costs much more than in the U.S.  Many museums charge above market rates for all patrons because they are now controled by the governing family, which has amassed billions of dollars.

Wealth is not a bad thing. However, from the discussions I had, it seemed to me that if one has enough success the regime will make matters difficult for that person’s business in the name of the public good.

In such an environment, it is little wonder that the country has struggled economically compared to other south-east Asian nations. Cambodia currently produces little. It relies on aid and must import many products and necessities from neighboring Thailand. Services in the country also lag behind. Tellingly for those who have read the novel, all railroad service in the country ceased a few years ago.

My final day in Cambodia was Election Day. My hotel owner did not bother to vote. “Even if we managed to elect the opposition those in power would just throw the results out” he said.  In this light, the power of Rand’s message seems clear. There can be no path forward until business can be perused on individual merit -- and until its rewards can be enjoyed by those who deserve them.