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Keep Calm, Keep Hope, and the Cambodian Cowboy.

4/27/2014

6 Comments

 
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‘Where are you from,” I said to the man sitting next to me, puffing his cigar with his Hawaiian shirt open to beat the heat, not an uncommon site in a bar in Cambodia at 10 am.  But he wore a cowboy hat, something you don’t see every day in Southeast Asia.  

“America.”

“Me too,” I said.  My gut told me to keep going.  “Where in the U.S.?”

“Connecticut,” the man said.  Oh boy.

“Wait – let me guess,” I stopped him.  He was definitely blue collar, an Italian Pisano, but had the tan and silver hair of someone with a touch of the good life.  Just enough.

“Not Fairfield,” I guessed, “How about Milford?”

“Yeah – how did you know that?  Well, I grew up in Trumbull and lived in Milford for a while but now West Haven.”  

What are the odds?  I’m eating breakfast at the bar beneath my hotel in Cambodia and I end up sitting next to a gentleman who lives next to my hometown in Connecticut, a world away.  Or used to live.  He introduced himself as Bart and explained that he now spent most of his time in Cambodia, working with the NGO he founded.  (NGO stands for Non-Governmental Organization, or basically a charity – something you hear every day in this impoverished country.)  We chatted for a while about how Kids At Risk Cambodia helps orphans throughout the country. 

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“Hey, I’m heading out to the province today to check on these two little girls I help, in case you wanted to come,” Bart said. ”I’m meeting a couple med students here and we’re all going to go in about 5 minutes.”  

I politely declined.  I was so behind on work, had woke up late, and it was already blazing hot out.  But then, I remembered that most great things happen when it’s least convenient.  I didn’t want to go, but I couldn’t NOT go.

So, when the Cambodian med students showed up, two smiling women in they’re mid 20’s wearing jeans and sweatshirts despite the heat, I grabbed my backpack and headed out with our new crew.  We crammed into a tuk tuk, two wooden benches under an open roof pulled by a motorcycle.  Including me, Cowboy, his girlfriend (who we called Cowgirl,) the two med students, and the driver, we had six people powered by one pre-war motorcycle as we headed through the bustling streets of Phnom Penh toward dirt roads, rice fields, and dense palm tree jungle.  

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The med students were sweethearts and spoke great English and introduced themselves first by their Khmer names, which I couldn’t pronounce, and then by their adopted Western names.  One was Keep Calm and the other, Keep Hope.  They even showed me their Facebook pages to confirm it.  And yes, their brother went by 'Keep Going.'  They had a couple more years to go in med school before their residency and then, doctors, but this trip out to the province to check on the girls was strictly volunteer work because they cared.  Their ultimate goal, they said, was to make enough money when they became doctors that they could adopt the girls and also look out for many more children in need.

As we bumped and rattled our way through smaller towns, Khmer farmers and shop patrons staring at the unusual site of 6 people including two big farang (foreigner) faces, and supplies packed into one tuk tuk, Cowboy told me the girl’s story.

Years back, he’d gone out to do some work in their province for some reason and when he met with the villagers he noticed there were two little girls always tagging along, filthy and dressed in rags.  He asked Simon, his trusty tuk tuk driver and defacto interpreter, about them.  Simon told him they were orphans.  Both their parents were dead and they had no one else to look after them.  

“How did they eat?” Cowboy asked.  

“The villagers give them extra food and scraps when they can,” Simon said.

“Where do they stay?” Cowboy asked.
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“They sleep most nights over there,” and he pointed to a bare wooden platform outdoors, half covered from the sun and rain.  

Through Simon and the villagers, Cowboy tried to help, offering some rice and a little money when he could.  But the girl’s situation got worse – when the village fell on hard times and there was not enough to eat, one girl was sent way out to the remote northern provinces to stay with a distant relative.  The sisters were split up.  Jenny was sent to an area in the jungle so isolated that she had no other children as friends – she had to play with monkeys every day.  She missed her sister terribly and her life was hard.  Her loneliness was worse than hunger.  

But with Cowboy’s assistance, the sisters were reunited in the village.  Since then, they’ve been inseparable, in heaven with their own company.  They never fight, they never complain, and never are without smiles on their faces.  With the help of Kids at Risk, Cowboy rented them a simple room for them to sleep and pays monthly for their rice and food.  He makes sure they can go to school.  

But there are always problems in Cambodia.  Desperate poverty is not just based on circumstances, but poverty of the mind.  He built a huge teepee-like new home for the family who was housing the girls, but when he came back months later they’d torn it down to sell the scrap metal.  The room the girls were supposed to stay in was now inhabited by up to a dozen people, and sometimes the girls were forced to sleep on their platform outside again.  

Clean water is always a challenge.  Too often, they go to the bathroom right outside in the bush but collect their drinking, cooking, and bathing water from nearby sources.  So Cowboy had a concrete outhouse built and arranged for them to use the neighbor’s well water.  But with so extra people now living there, they were using too much water and the neighbors were threatening to cut them off.  

So it was important Cowboy made an appearance, with Simon, to visit the girls as often as possible.  He could try to smooth out problems, make sure the girls were eating well and no one was pocketing their food money, insist they get to sleep indoors in the room he was renting, and check to see they were going to school every day and not sent out into the fields to pick mangoes.  Of course, Keep Calm and Keep Hope coming along was a blessing, the only medical care the sisters might see that year.  
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But you can’t expect to just show up and solve all their problems, and throwing money at it can be counterproductive sometimes.  It all falls apart the moment you drive away.  You can only be someone’s advocate - give them a fighting chance and most importantly, empower them.  Of course supplying food and shelter to the girls is the primary concern, as is ensuring their safety. 

A sad reality in Cambodia is that girls get snatched up all the time by sex traffickers, or sometimes even sold by their starving families.  The girls are coming of age and very pretty, so Cowboy and the med students are concerned – they urge their relatives to keep a very close eye on them.  In the long term, education is the only way to empower them with a better life.  By attending school and learning English their ceiling will be much higher than a farmer or homemaker, so they may grow up to be advocates, themselves, helping the next generation and reversing the cycles of poverty.

For that reason, Cowboy really appreciated Keep Calm and Keep Hope coming along.  More than just medical checkups, they can talk to the girls in Khmer and find out the real story what’s going on in their lives and if they’re having problems.  You can’t underestimate the value of two Cambodian women who are educated, independent professionals taking the time to personally visit the girls.  It gives them hope and something to reach for in life, recalibrating their possibilities. 

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Near noon, we finally pulled off the road into a dirt yard in front of a simple complex concrete bungalow.  Before our tuk tuk even pulled in, children ran to us from all directions, huge smiles on their faces.  As Keep Hope and Keep Calm stepped off the tuk tuk, the two sisters engulfed them in hugs and wouldn’t let go.  Village children ran up to Cowboy and hugged him, too, “Papa!  Papa!” like Santa Claus had arrived.
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Cowboy gave me the 5-cent tour – the new outhouse in back, the neighbor’s well that was causing so much conflict, the room he’d rented for the girls, and the wooden platform where they sometimes still slept.  We spent the afternoon with girls and the other children and the villagers.  One by one, the medical students checked over the children. 

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He was concerned because one of the sisters didn’t look well – she wasn’t smiling, and had deep circles around her eyes.  He was worried that something bad was going on in her life, but she didn’t report any problems.  Other than the grandmother hitting them sometimes (Khmer culture is still violent or even abusive by our standards,) and not being able to sleep in the room, everything was fine, and certainly they didn’t want to complain about trivial things like those since they were now together and had enough food and people caring for them.   

The children quickly flocked to me and I picked them up and twirled them around and threw them in the air.  Of course, there were a dozen kids to pick up and play with and they didn’t want me to stop, so I was soon sweating like crazy under the blazing jungle sun.  There was no escaping the heat – somehow it felt 20 degrees hotter than in the city an hour away.  It was so hot, their babies didn't even cry.  Mercifully, they set up one dilapidated old fan and we sat in the shade and ate the mangos they prepared. 

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The medical students lined up the eager children to give them lessons in hand washing.  Something as simple as washing hands and basic sanitation is lost on them if not taught.  They also recited basic phrases and sang songs in English, reinforcing a few words for the young ones.  If they learned enough English, they could possibly get a job in tourism in the future, earning them a $80 a month salary that would get them out of poverty and allow them to send a few dollars home every month.  Pretty soon, the children were repeating my expressions, especially “WOW!” and "NICE!" 
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We all walked up to the market to buy some supplies for the children, a caravan of Khmer kids and only two westerners.  These little home-based stores are their only chance to buy any food or goods.  Since no one can afford a whole bottle of cooking oil or a whole package of sugar, the shopkeepers break them into tiny single-serving baggies, sold for a few pennies.  I chipped in a little money I had and we bough bars of soap and talcum powder, as well as cold drinks for everyone.  Cowboy made sure the kids weren’t drinking sugary sodas or terribly-unhealthy energy drinks.  

On the walk home, the kids held on to our plastic bags of supplies from the store like they were gold.  It’s so rare they get anything or have any new possessions that they play with them and want to hold them, just out of novelty.  One village girl held on to a pig stuffed animal and wouldn’t let go of it all afternoon.  After drinking an iced tea, the sister who wasn't feeling well started gagging.  She ran into the bush and threw up.  
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The medical students checked her over and made sure she was ok and asked if she was drinking clean water, like they’d told her.  After a little while she was feeling much better, much to Cowboy’s relief because that meant she didn’t look well because she was ill, not because she was being abused or anything major was wrong.  He sent someone back to the store to buy a big jug of clean drinking water for the kids.  

The medical students mixed the talcum powder into a paste and applied it to rashes, cut fingernails, and checked their eyes and mouths for signs of worms, dengue, or other ailments.  But mostly, they were just happy, smiling kids – eager to jump all over their new Western friend.   
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As the sun crawled toward the tree line, we rounded up our group and said our goodbyes.  Cowboy confirmed plans to dig a new well and sternly made it clear that the girls should be sleeping indoors and going to school every day.  

The sisters gave me one last big hug before I climbed aboard the tuk tuk, huge smiles on their faces.  Knowing they were ok, and more importantly, they knew people loved and cared about them, was one of the best feelings I’ve ever had.  

“When will we see you again?  Come back to us soon, Pa Pa,” they said to me.

It was hard to drive away, to leave them, but it was hot and we all were tired and had a long trip back to Phnom Penh.  And I had more work to do, more than I could have imagined that morning when my decision to say "yes" to a stranger's invite led my life down an unexpected path. 

“So what do you think?”  Cowboy asked me as our tuk tuk chugged over a bridge spanning the blood orange-red Mekong River.  “We could really use your help…” 

This time, I didn't even have to think about it.

-Norm  :-)


Email me if you'd like to help the sisters and Kids At Risk Cambodia.
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6 Comments
Terry Darcey link
4/27/2014 10:01:31 am

I work with Bart on KARC. Thanks for showing an interest in our org. Hope to meet you when you get back to CT.

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bart Belanger
4/27/2014 06:49:57 pm

Yea Terry your going to love .Norm! I 'm just afraid he will hate us for asking to many stupid computer questions He does know Cambell Ave though!

Reply
Rachel link
4/27/2014 07:18:47 pm

This is a really great writeup. I too had the privilege to go to this village. When I returned my Dad pledged his resources as well as my Mom!!! I really hope that more people and children in Cambodia would be able to be helped in this way. Now to find a way to get my encyclopedias over!

Reply
Susie
4/28/2014 04:44:16 am

Bart's work is amazing. I am glad people are starting to notice what he does. A very good man and I hope more people will donate to his cause.

Reply
David
5/28/2014 01:05:00 am

Bart this is great work you are doing. I just recently was visitng Cammbodia this past March & April for 3 weeks with a Cambodian American friend. He does charity work by collecting donation here in our home town from Cambodian Americans and brings to Cambodia to build central wells in the poor rural villages. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed visiting Cambodia and especially the beautifull warm friendly Cambodian people. I hope to go back in visit next year, stay longer year and get to see more of the country. I would also be interested in doing any kind of charity work for some of the time I'm there.

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Awakenmedia link
6/25/2014 02:29:30 pm

46) បុរាណខ្មែរ


សូមផ្ដល់ការបកប្រែត្រឹមត្រូវដើម្បីនេះនៅក្នុងភាសាកំណើតរបស់អ្នកនិងបុរាណទាំងអស់ភាសាដ៏ទៃទៀត YOU KNOW និងការបោះពុម្ពផ្សាយ។

សូមផ្ញើច្បាប់ចម្លងមួយទៅ
awakenmedia.prabandhak @ gmail.com

chandrasekhara.tipitaka @ gmail.com
សូមចូលទស្សនា:
http://sarvajan.ambedkar.org


Tipitaka
នេះសូត្របែប Canon បាន
© 2005

សូមមើលផងដែរសន្ទស្សន៍ចាស់; បកប្រែដោយអ្នកប្រែ

Tipitaka (ការដឹសូត្របែប "បី" បិដក +
"កន្ត្រក") ឬសូត្របែប Canon គឺជាការប្រមូលផ្ដុំនៃសូត្របែបបឋមសិក្សា
អត្ថបទដែលបង្កើតជាគ្រឹះនៃលទ្ធិព្រះពុទ្ធសាសនាថេរវាទ។ នេះ
Tipitaka និងអត្ថបទសូត្របែប paracanonical (អត្ថាធិប្បាយ, កាលប្បវត្តិល) រួមគ្នាបង្កើតបានរាងកាយពេញលេញនៃអត្ថបទបុរាណថេរវាទ។

នេះសូត្របែប Canon គឺជាដ៏ធំនៃអក្សរសិល្ប៍: នៅក្នុងការបកប្រែជាភាសាអង់គ្លេស
អត្ថបទបន្ថែមរហូតដល់ទៅរាប់ពាន់នាក់នៃទំព័របោះពុម្ព។ ភាគច្រើន (ប៉ុន្តែមិនមែនទាំងអស់) នៃ
ក្រុមហ៊ុន Canon នេះត្រូវបានគេបោះពុម្ភផ្សាយជាភាសាអង់គ្លេសរួចទៅហើយក្នុងរយៈពេលប៉ុន្មានឆ្នាំនេះ។ បើទោះបីជា
តែមួយភាគតូចនៃអត្ថបទទាំងន&

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    Norm Schriever is a best-selling author, expat, cultural mad scientist, and enemy of the comfort zone. He travels the globe, telling the stories of the people he finds, and hopes to make the world a little bit better place with his words.   

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