tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59684721121442690432024-03-19T22:19:50.855-07:00Five months in CambodiaThe Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-7105418236384152002011-11-08T12:01:00.000-08:002011-11-09T08:26:46.718-08:00Thoughts on brutality<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">(Hello, English-speaking friends and strangers. The following entry ended up being in Norwegian, but the others will still be in English.)</span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Kambodsja er et land med en veldig blodig historie. På slutten av 70-tallet styrte Khmer Rouge og Pol Pot, og millioner av mennesker døde. Mange døde av grusom mishandling og tortur, andre ble raskt henrettet og slengt i massegraver. Man kan ikke unngå å lære om de mange triste skjebnene og ødelagte familiene når man bor der, det er en viktig del av folkets identitet og hva de viser fram til utlendinger. Historier som får en til å tenke og stille seg selv mange spørsmål om menneskesinnet, og de ekstreme handlingene vi er i stand til å utføre.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Hvordan kan man mishandle et menneske til døde, en person du aldri har møtt, bare fordi direktivet sier du skal? Er det ikke vanskelig å gjøre det? Noen historier fra fengslene forteller at vaktene først kunne banke opp en mann, og så gå leende ut av rommet. Som om det hadde vært en lek, som om det ikke var et menneske de hadde slått. Vi består jo av de samme byggestenenene, samme hjerte og samme hjerne, hvordan kommer man til dette punktet?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">En uke etter at jeg hadde flyttet hjem til trygge lille Norge, kom 22. juli. Igjen satt jeg med disse spørsmålene i hodet, ikke om kambodsjanere for 30 år siden, men dessverre om min egen virkelighet og hverdag. Først bomben, som ansiktsløst og relativt tilfeldig tok liv. Så skytingen, hvor gjerningsmannen har sett mennesker i øynene, noen så unge som 14 år, og fortsatt klart å ta livene deres fra dem. Alt de hadde.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">En halvtime etter at bomben sprengte, satt jeg hos en venn og så på TV. Jeg hadde en kjempeknute i magen, og tenkte at nå, nå går landet mitt i stykker. Nå tipper det over. Debattklimaet rundt alle temaer som på noe vis kan involvere innvandring eller muslimer, hadde vært utrolig dårlig i forkant</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">. En ting har vært hva politikerne sier, en annen ting har vært hva internett-folket har sagt, i kommentarfelt, Facebook-grupper og blogger. Noen kan brette ut en hel ideologi om hvordan muslimer og mørkhudede menn er roten til alt ondt, andre kommer bare med sine små, aggressive kommentarer.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Her forleden så jeg på et Typisk Norsk-klipp på Youtube, nemlig det hvor Petter Skjerven drar til Holmlia skole for å snakke med elevene om kebab-norsk. En gutt oversetter setningen "Sjof den schpaa kæba der'a, wolla jeg skal blæste hun!" til "Se på den vakre kvinnen der, jaggu skal jeg ligge med henne!" Innslaget er artig og interessant, som de fleste andre i Typisk Norsk-serien.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Etter klippet følger en lang kommentar-tråd. Jeg føler at jeg har lest min andel rasistiske innlegg av denne typen, </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">men jeg reagerte likevel på hvor ekstreme disse var. "Skyt dem alle" er det noen som sier, og flere følger på. (Både før og etter 22. juli.) Om en gruppe 15-åringer med minoritetsbakgrunn. Kanskje er det én person som tør å si det, også følger de andre på når tabuet er brutt. Inspirert av den tøffeste kisen i klassen som turte å si det først.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Jeg sitter igjen og lurer på hva som går gjennom hodene på disse folka. Er de rett og slett veldig unge, 14 år gamle og synes det er gøy å si drøye og provoserende ting? Er de forbanna når de sitter og skriver dette, krever det noe av dem, har de i det minste litt høy puls? Eller slenger de ut kommentaren som om de skyter ned en motstander i et dataspill? Jeg tror de aller fleste som står ansikt til ansikt med et annet menneske og opplever at de blir såret av noe de sier, kommer til å kjenne det ett eller annet sted. De aller fleste har denne evnen til empati, men det virker som den blir skrudd av i den anonyme internett-settingen.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Læreren Håvard Tjora hadde et viktig innlegg om nett-mobbing i Magasinet 17. september. 45 000 barn i Norge sier at de har blitt mobbet på internett, skriver han. 70 000 barn har fått uønskede seksuelle kommentarer på nett, og 30 000 har fått trusler på SMS. 74 % av dem forteller det aldri til en voksen. Han peker på at voksne er dårlige forbilder for barn og unge når det gjelder hvordan man prater med hverandre og kommenterer saker. “Når de unge serveres søppel, så er det søppel som reproduseres”, sier han.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times;">I dag ser jeg også i Klassekampen at Kristian Bjørkdahl, min veldig flinke foreleser fra Miljø og Utvikling på Blindern, snakker om hvordan vi oppfører oss på internett: "Med sosiologiens metoder kan medieviterne finne ut av hvilker omgangsformer som oppstår rundt nettet. Er det virkelig slik, som man har hørt nå i noen tiår, at de nye mediene skaper kontakt mellom mennesker på helt ulike steder i verden? Hva slags bånd knyttes egentlig på nettet? Med utgangspunkt i psykologien kan medieforskere forsøke å finne ut av hva det betyr, om noe, at vi snakker med hverandre via maskiner og ikke ansikt til ansikt."</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Mange strømninger i tiden, som jeg prøver å samle i hodet mitt. Tankene mine går ofte tilbake til youtube-kommentarene. Jeg lurer på hvordan det må være å være ung og ha innvandrerbakgrunn, sitte og se på Typisk Norsk og kose seg, og så se disse meningene. Krassere ting enn de fleste av oss noensinne kommer til å få høre. Jeg håper inderlig at de klarer å si til seg selv at det ikke er dem det er noe galt med.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Rett etter at bomben sprengte, var det flere mørkhudede mennesker som ble trakassert i Oslo. To menn ble </span><a href="http://www.nettavisen.no/nyheter/article3202049.ece"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">angrepet</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> da de satt på en pub, og noen hijabkledde jenter fikk skjellsord slengt etter seg på gaten. Det ble tvitret at en ung norskpakistansk gutt ble dratt ut av en buss og banket opp av to voksne mennesker. Man kan jo bare forestille seg hvor skremt han sikkert allerede var etter bomben som hadde sprengt, og så skal han i tillegg oppleve dette. Det gjør vondt å sette seg inn i. Mon tro hva foreldrene hans følte, hvilke trøstende ord de kunne komme med den kvelden. Hendelsen virket som noe tatt ut av en film om sørstatene i USA på 60-tallet, en sånn man var nødt til å se på ungdomsskolen for å lære om hvor tøft det var før i tida.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Da det første sjokket hadde lagt seg, var det tross alt fint å se hvordan Norge svarte med rosetog og kjærlighetserklæringer på angrepet. Jeg er glad for at gjerningens natur samlet oss som et folk, og håper det oppsto en effekt som kan vare lenge. Men jeg håper ikke moralen er at <em>jaja</em>, det var ikke en muslim, da skal vi ikke lynsje mørkhudede folk på gata likevel. De slapp så vidt unna.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Mye klokt har blitt sagt om dette. I Morgenbladet skriver Sten Inge Jørgensen i </span><a href="http://www.morgenbladet.no/article/20110916/OAKTUELT/709169939"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Et moderat fremmedfiendtlig folk</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">: "At flere innvandrere ble trakassert rett etter terrorangrepet 22. juli, tyder på at mange nordmenn oppriktig mener at folk med utenlandsk bakgrunn lever her «på vår nåde»."</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I artikkelen <u><a href="http://www.nyemeninger.no/asohail/">Et dobbeltangrep på muslimer</a></u> sier Attiq Sohail: "Det har flere ganger blitt påpekt i mediene at tryggheten ikke vil bli den samme for politikerne. Men hva med tryggheten til alle norske muslimer? Bomben, som ble plassert i regjeringskvartalet denne gangen, kan neste gang være plassert i en moské. Forhåpentligvis vil debattklimaet bli bedre med mindre spissformulerte og hatefulle innlegg enn det vi har blitt vant til."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times;">Grunnen til at kambodsjanere under Khmer Rouge-regimet kunne behandle sine medmennesker som de gjorde, er vel at de ikke så på dem som dét. Ikke medmennesker, kanskje ikke mennesker engang, men statsfiender. Antirevolusjonære, forrædere, skadedyr. Ikke folk som kunne være deres sønner, mødre eller onkler, men noe helt annet. De andre. Det er skummelt å sette noen i en sånn bås, enten det er fordi de er <span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">muslimer, jøder, rumenere, homofile, funksjonshemmede eller narkomane. I beste fall fører det bare til at du går glipp av lærerike bekjentskap, i verste fall kan det få grusomme konsekvenser. Enorme konsekvenser, og ikke bare i land og tiår langt unna vårt eget.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Jeg lurer på hva vi bør gjøre. Det har dukket opp veldig mange fine facebook-grupper og lignende, av typen <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/jegskalsiifra">Jeg skal si ifra</a>, som er Kristin Halvorsens kampanje for å argumentere imot rasister på nett. 7600 likes. Men jeg har kanskje enda mer tro på tids- og ressurskrevende ting som prosjektet <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/teatime">Teatime</a> hvor du kan besøke en muslimsk familie og drikke te med dem. Godt gammeldags samvær, det krever mer enn et klikk på en lenke, man må sette av en ettermiddag. Lure på hva man skal ha på seg, være litt nervøs når man ringer på, se noen inn i øynene. Besøk<em> In Real Life.</em> Audun Lysbakken <a href="http://www.regjeringen.no/nb/dep/bld/aktuelt/nyheter/2011/700-000-kroner-til-antirasistisk-senter.html?id=652492">bevilget</a> i september 700 000 kr til Antirasistisk Senter for å drive Teatime-prosjektet, det var gode nyheter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Folk med forutinntatte meninger kommer selvfølgelig ikke til å melde seg på Teatime. Da bør fjellet heller komme til Mohammed, for å bruke en lite tilfeldig metafor, dette må inn i skolen. Lag dokumentarer om unge som har blitt mobbet på internett, eller rekruttér modige folk til å dra rundt for å dele personlige erfaringer. Som Håvard Tjora påpeker, det er ikke bare innvandrere som er alvorlig plaget av mobbing på nett. Jeg har et håp om at vi kan finne fram til en ny anstendighet og en ny medmenneskelighet. Jeg tror vi trenger den sårt.</span></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ50nDgRm14BKEGdYr7NQsFgzEiTFzhZJnQvg_UDa0g8KyD1rXQllyG0mCvSZM12Wc031ZeXucQvKFTvT0RHDdwLJFNjd91ykMUeGmijP-absvmf58wpaQriSYLuLNNKXK5qoaEXQh_BF2/s1600/NORWAY-ATTACKS-HOMAG_76678q.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ50nDgRm14BKEGdYr7NQsFgzEiTFzhZJnQvg_UDa0g8KyD1rXQllyG0mCvSZM12Wc031ZeXucQvKFTvT0RHDdwLJFNjd91ykMUeGmijP-absvmf58wpaQriSYLuLNNKXK5qoaEXQh_BF2/s400/NORWAY-ATTACKS-HOMAG_76678q.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bilde fra <a href="http://www.dagsavisen.no/innenriks/article519443.ece">"22. juli på læreplanen"</a></div>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-19697749494795582082011-11-07T10:48:00.000-08:002011-11-07T10:48:39.020-08:00The flood continuesThe flooding in South East Asia continues, and the focus in the Norwegian media has mostly been on Bangkok. But the conditions are very serious in Cambodia as well, The Phnom Penh Post reports that as many as 1,7 million people are affected by the flash floods, and 500 000 people are displaced. They also <a href="http://www.phnompenhpost.com/index.php/2011110152454/National-news/denmark-doubles-aid-for-flooding-victims.html">report</a> that the Danish government has given $110 000 to help the victims, I don't know if the Norwegian governments has helped financially. Unlike Denmark, Norway doesn't have an embassy in Cambodia, so I suppose they're not as close to the events as the countries who are represented there.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYRjVmBZV6ttZwPCKXWsyddgTRHM81MKoF0Nu11QW8PowqOSOre-lmPPqqiMH-ycCpshTw4X6KCqOa1Ip3kU-lqRX7CN73sve9bX3V6iZApKB52oH4m8X1uRHbLqAmBJ9iTqUtddfp9Ehf/s1600/gutter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" closure_uid_gr84wp="123" height="400" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYRjVmBZV6ttZwPCKXWsyddgTRHM81MKoF0Nu11QW8PowqOSOre-lmPPqqiMH-ycCpshTw4X6KCqOa1Ip3kU-lqRX7CN73sve9bX3V6iZApKB52oH4m8X1uRHbLqAmBJ9iTqUtddfp9Ehf/s400/gutter.jpg" width="298" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Boy carrying his brother across a makeshift sandbag trail in Cambodia. (Photo from <a href="http://www.phnompenhpost.com/index.php/2011110752594/Special-Reports/cambodia-remains-an-afterthought.html">this</a> interesting article)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gaI0wz9byTLfOAy0TfMa6CIwdK3_6-Xm9luMdmjCZahozx9IGNTzrGyDAucdrQJ5lyFhzegxjRHqK4kmdm-exs5gu1BaxR-bOIVGEeLqoTPdh_kGyEXt9h4sbUo17SyELtpr_Ynhe-VQ/s1600/pent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="352" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gaI0wz9byTLfOAy0TfMa6CIwdK3_6-Xm9luMdmjCZahozx9IGNTzrGyDAucdrQJ5lyFhzegxjRHqK4kmdm-exs5gu1BaxR-bOIVGEeLqoTPdh_kGyEXt9h4sbUo17SyELtpr_Ynhe-VQ/s640/pent.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Rice field in Battambang province</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/03/world/asia/floods-in-cambodia-affect-more-than-a-million.html">photo</a> above is from the New York Times. They write that "The floods that have affected three-quarters of the country's land area, by the United Nations' estimate, have been overshadowed by similar troubles in Cambodia's larger and wealthier neighbor, Thailand, where the government is scrambling to protect central Bangkok from inundation (...)". Three days ago the World Food Program stated that "10 percent of the rice crops have been destroyed and 265,000 hectares of rice fields have been damaged, raising the price of rice by 12 percent". This is very serious in a country where hunger and malnutrition is already such a big problem.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What the Norwegian media did <a href="http://www.aftenposten.no/nyheter/iriks/Klimaendringer-gir-mer-ekstremvr-6690183.html">report</a> yesterday was that the scientific conclusions from the new <a href="http://www.ipcc.ch/">IPCC</a> report (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) has been leaked to the press. The report in itself will be released after a conference in Uganda 14 - 18 November. The report apparently concludes that climate change indeed leads to more extreme weather. We will most likely get more and longer heat waves in the decades to come, and probably see more extreme rain (like the unusually strong monsoons we see in South East Asia at the moment). Tropical storms could get more powerful.</div>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-2635606126885333142011-11-06T09:36:00.000-08:002011-11-07T08:22:54.023-08:00About the genocideThe past weeks Ingrid and I have held presentations at schools and NGOs about our stay in Cambodia. It has been an educational process to make these 45 minute long accounts of our expreriences. What do I remember, what seems distant already, what is it that I want to tell these people about the country I've spent half a year in. The kids in high school are at the age of 16-18 years old, so I try to ask myself what I would have found interesting at this age. I actually think it would have seemed very interesting and exciting for me at 16 to go and do something like we have done.<br />
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The people have usually been pretty quiet after our presentations, maybe a few questions, no big discussions or anything like that. After the last talk we had, a German came up to us and wanted to know a bit more about the genocide during the Khmer Rouge regime. We have a relatively brief summary of the historical and gruesome events during those years, but we don't go in debth on how this affects the society today. He himself said that it took Germans about 25 years to be able to talk about and discuss the Holocaust thoroughly (or maybe everything regarding the Second World War).<br />
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He had also spent some time in Ukraine, and there he felt that there was a lot of tension surrounding the topic of the Chernobyl <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chernobyl_disaster">disaster</a> in 1986. There was a huge explosion at a nuclear power plant, spreading radio active particles over large parts of Europe (a Greenpeace report estimates that as many as 200 000 people may die of cancer as a result of this). Many Ukrainians he met avoided the sensitive subject altogether, some were able to talk vaguely about it.<br />
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One of my Cambodian friends said that it wasn't until he spent some time abroad, that he really got to know what happened during the reign of Khmer Rouge. In school he had learnt that there was a genocide, it was bad, but now it was in the past. When he tried asking his parents about it, they refused to talk about it. Other young people I met, said that their parents on the contrary thought it was important that the new generation Cambodians also carry with them the memories of the persecution and injustice.<br />
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In Phnom Penh the most common tourist sights to visit are the S21 prison, where an unknown number of prisoners were tortured and killed, and the Choeung Ek killings fields. There are many "killing fields" in Cambodia, where mass executions took place, and the bodies were put in mass graves afterwards. The Choeung Ek is the most famous one, and it is a very calm place surrounded by trees a little trip outside the capital. Unlike the S21, Choeung Ek is a less intrusive place to visit, you can walk around at your own pace and read the information signs when you want to... It gives the occasion to reflect upon the violence and the tragedy without having the horrible photos and blood splatter on the walls that you see in S21.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsF-cqo6teKGIbvspK8hGcG0czSUNAoKATH3raTD86VdpJ4n4U_2cqqvSnDUV0gYiX9FvjI9bdo-UElBEQy_3EKrQIqWNNzElK17T3-YhsxyHqBCMPCy8AksDyfrA6KuYpTdDh2kDQ0Hcv/s1600/DSCN0456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsF-cqo6teKGIbvspK8hGcG0czSUNAoKATH3raTD86VdpJ4n4U_2cqqvSnDUV0gYiX9FvjI9bdo-UElBEQy_3EKrQIqWNNzElK17T3-YhsxyHqBCMPCy8AksDyfrA6KuYpTdDh2kDQ0Hcv/s640/DSCN0456.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="480" /></a><br />
The memorial building at the very calm Choeung Ek killings fields.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf5H4TCFHM6yevfVGSPpGe2HJmkIll3IdKZuspOfWyjaZ2j1WQrugGiE3x2oVHtdIRQAjrqAcuOzeLK_7WpQJpiqYG0UN_APXBIngGagmYJbtj38MCY0ZWyL9adymWb4MaATjWU3wv9lHH/s1600/DSCN0470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf5H4TCFHM6yevfVGSPpGe2HJmkIll3IdKZuspOfWyjaZ2j1WQrugGiE3x2oVHtdIRQAjrqAcuOzeLK_7WpQJpiqYG0UN_APXBIngGagmYJbtj38MCY0ZWyL9adymWb4MaATjWU3wv9lHH/s640/DSCN0470.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a><br />
You remove your shoes in respect to the spirits in the memorial building. (I trust that the spirits didn't see my mismatching socks as offensive.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvCsQ3RcEtuFfklLppJBasXoht5E4TNKWuKkIqNiuXphXuP4nNl_oUlHUvlDyfcF9biTKIK85rmGO9nrLMf1ttzs1seD8yOiRbd1HvVCEi4R762zVa4bLDLDiv_SW_pJZu2xak87nFABG/s1600/DSCN0467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvCsQ3RcEtuFfklLppJBasXoht5E4TNKWuKkIqNiuXphXuP4nNl_oUlHUvlDyfcF9biTKIK85rmGO9nrLMf1ttzs1seD8yOiRbd1HvVCEi4R762zVa4bLDLDiv_SW_pJZu2xak87nFABG/s640/DSCN0467.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a><br />
Memories of the mass killings. The skulls are displayed to remember the many victims in the mass graves.<br />
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I would also strongly recommend to visit the S21 prison, or Tuol Sleng as it is called in Khmer, just braise yourself before you go. You can also get very good guides when you get there, who can often tell about personal experiences from the regime. Some Cambodians don't want to go into the prison, because they believe there are evil spirits there. Remember to treat the subject of the genocide with respect, it can be highly sensitive for some people.<br />
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I read a lot about the genocide that took place in Rwanda, after seing the powerful movie<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0395169/"> "Hotel Rwanda".</a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8BSY2QvmPNmkIuBTAn1_d2SSJniVsXaxGebp7stUiuKS4UZoTk9xDIslAFGNQy_p3z7NLTSwhuJOObJFu8eDVKGOEMZ1NXd-9LjUExGLZszU27fPAXnCw2wDrlySTDBFKg4XCYgq0Se_/s1600/hotel_rwanda_la.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8BSY2QvmPNmkIuBTAn1_d2SSJniVsXaxGebp7stUiuKS4UZoTk9xDIslAFGNQy_p3z7NLTSwhuJOObJFu8eDVKGOEMZ1NXd-9LjUExGLZszU27fPAXnCw2wDrlySTDBFKg4XCYgq0Se_/s400/hotel_rwanda_la.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
The two ethnic groups hutu and tutsi had for a long time had tensions and conflicts between them, and in 1994 hutu groups started the mass murder of both tutsies and moderate hutus. The government now states that about 1,1 million people were killed, and that possibly as many as 500 000 women and girls were systematically raped.<br />
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A friend of mine was in Rwanda a few years ago, and noticed how there was still tension between the two ethnic groups. One day she was with a Rwandese friend, and she looked at the people in the street. She asked the friend if it was possible to see who was hutu and who was tutsi. Of course, he said, "the tutsies are in cars or on scooters. The hutus walk."<br />
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Cambodia is a relatively homogenous society ethnically, so you don't have the same situation where one specific ethnic group is the perpetrator (even though the Cham muslims and the Chinese were especially persecuted during the regime). A good friend of mine told me that even though Cambodia has many problems, he is proud of how well it's going considering how recent the genocide is.The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-1023670219103948332011-11-02T09:59:00.000-07:002011-11-02T09:59:54.550-07:00Working conditions in Cambodian factoriesA few days ago the Norwegian media reported that 236 workers passed out at an H&M factory in Cambodia. Hennes & Mauritz is a Swedish retail-clothing company with stores all over the world, and the majority of its products are made in Asia. The mass fainting was the third time in four months that similar events have happened in factories that produce their clothing. An H&M spokesperson says that they do care about the garment workers, but that there has not been found any reason for the mass faintings in any of the factories.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid9TT-HbtrKwDd35S70xJkbwDU8x1UOi2EqTxT-S0tyTcFhu9VW57KRcG1noNjcoVDMZf7aGIa2JSe3qV-TOBKVFU3RisWybMjUQBPAW7w73XwX3iCH2SjJ9RyMlyXG3CrwhBlFSPHsvQU/s1600/Kvinne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid9TT-HbtrKwDd35S70xJkbwDU8x1UOi2EqTxT-S0tyTcFhu9VW57KRcG1noNjcoVDMZf7aGIa2JSe3qV-TOBKVFU3RisWybMjUQBPAW7w73XwX3iCH2SjJ9RyMlyXG3CrwhBlFSPHsvQU/s640/Kvinne.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Women getting medical attention after passing out at work. (<a href="http://www.nrk.no/nyheter/verden/1.7852578">Photo</a> from NRK)<br />
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H&M made a profit of about 500 million dollars from the past three months alone, while the Cambodian garment workers get a meager $60 per month. The textile industry is now the country's biggest income source, and it employs 400 000 people. Workers from factories all over Cambodia have arranged protest rallies to object to their poor working conditions.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisHfNKfQn7Rf_T78XQsn1LHtc0YNGvMslCFww2Uxln2mFHV9HE_KVDEddd8lLnDEnf6DJ2dKKQrmqMQczt7Lfa68pPyjnEfZPK6YzqupKLZYlVEdiTTTksCT_SHlPmvcb-7-QN-ulSfzMy/s1600/kTw6acRkLtM5z5S3pIxI8QRI9P-A-u76b074CWeLK89g.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisHfNKfQn7Rf_T78XQsn1LHtc0YNGvMslCFww2Uxln2mFHV9HE_KVDEddd8lLnDEnf6DJ2dKKQrmqMQczt7Lfa68pPyjnEfZPK6YzqupKLZYlVEdiTTTksCT_SHlPmvcb-7-QN-ulSfzMy/s400/kTw6acRkLtM5z5S3pIxI8QRI9P-A-u76b074CWeLK89g.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Textile workers protesting against bad working conditions in September 2010. During this rally, 5 workers were killed after clashing with the police. (<a href="http://www.nrk.no/nyheter/verden/1.7852578">Photo</a> from NRK)</div><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">In September BBC <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-14897130">reported</a> that 1500 workers had fainted so far this year in different factories in Cambodia. It is an ongoing debate how much responsibility Norwegian companies should take regarding the working conditions in factories around the world. Telenor, a Norwegian company and one of the largest mobile phone operators in the world, got a lot of critisism after the death of a factory worker in Bangladesh in <a href="http://www.dagbladet.no/nyheter/2008/05/15/535282.html">2008</a>. The 22 year old employee fell into a tank of boling water, and died. His family, who had lost their only bread winner, got about $3000 as a compensation for their son and brother. In return they had to sign a waver saying that they wouldn't sue Telenor.</div>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-86485550024666401822011-11-01T12:14:00.000-07:002011-11-14T07:52:14.281-08:00KepOne week before leaving Cambodia, I went to on a road trip to Kep with four very nice people. I was happy Joanna was going to drive the car, until she turned the key in the engine. I was fooled by her mild manners and calm exterior, it turned out she releases all her inner frustrations by speeding on dirt roads and scaring fragile friends in the back seat. We almost hit an elephant on our way to Kep, it was just taddling along on the road, but it fortunately went well. A lucky boy was riding it home. On our way we stopped at a nice place to explore some caves.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg00FSSTHdRLxqo1A_faXAD05cmGr1vzoTMNfiUIZwtHX7H9Xuev1TTcHBjzJhT2FhlJHZzxubrjrRcXJkNjQWDj120ktue-OZcp1HdMVcdU_6JySMMfYzlzVvUgg6dwMuPQlKkFUPqnjtm/s1600/DSCN1275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg00FSSTHdRLxqo1A_faXAD05cmGr1vzoTMNfiUIZwtHX7H9Xuev1TTcHBjzJhT2FhlJHZzxubrjrRcXJkNjQWDj120ktue-OZcp1HdMVcdU_6JySMMfYzlzVvUgg6dwMuPQlKkFUPqnjtm/s640/DSCN1275.JPG" width="478" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The outside of the caves</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3LHv0D-XHjmPrylICblqUWcoTPqywnpHNH-0T3S0A_dckI6z4DZHwLTVBoS78dvR8cFQdKosEinGLU8Ht8q5POhldNlATsNiCw8FSVkkT2oClXTDxRr2by7VSgjYOMIGGgmMxAQEI5tC/s1600/Grotte.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3LHv0D-XHjmPrylICblqUWcoTPqywnpHNH-0T3S0A_dckI6z4DZHwLTVBoS78dvR8cFQdKosEinGLU8Ht8q5POhldNlATsNiCw8FSVkkT2oClXTDxRr2by7VSgjYOMIGGgmMxAQEI5tC/s640/Grotte.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Laska and I in a cave. Finally my $1 flashlight came in handy!</div><br />
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Kep was a very calm, very green place. There weren't a lot of tourists there, not a lot of people at all, so it felt a bit magic to be walking around there all by ourselves. We lived at Tree Top Bungalows, which was really pretty. There were some large, scary looking lizards there, I was a bit nervous they would come nibble on me at night, but I don't think they did. Maybe they didn't consider me nibble-worthy, I'm not sure.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7RxjoRlorsLf899IliuKhigneVBmsrwKMSMl2jTJGt9gUioyI3ETFldmDSumYC-PCoZUYJ7ggQv5CxxJSrcNTXeJBznVcPNiHtEYGCdc743wXLjz65QdqJSlrHe9crwjKtln3xpU5kBSd/s1600/DSCN1323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7RxjoRlorsLf899IliuKhigneVBmsrwKMSMl2jTJGt9gUioyI3ETFldmDSumYC-PCoZUYJ7ggQv5CxxJSrcNTXeJBznVcPNiHtEYGCdc743wXLjz65QdqJSlrHe9crwjKtln3xpU5kBSd/s640/DSCN1323.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">The bungalows!</div><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbkV_MLS-NmBhRGEq5Pqp7BuwWDf_rYO0JQeGJFfGi3bdN5WG6vD9NBbV0GXUwp7AlxuLznqT5SPpa6Ngtf4ldISfBy7a6Ylrnx5A7O4orNlO1o_QrjdFB74HpdQ0kuQacBRy9DZLg_s5b/s1600/DSCN1328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbkV_MLS-NmBhRGEq5Pqp7BuwWDf_rYO0JQeGJFfGi3bdN5WG6vD9NBbV0GXUwp7AlxuLznqT5SPpa6Ngtf4ldISfBy7a6Ylrnx5A7O4orNlO1o_QrjdFB74HpdQ0kuQacBRy9DZLg_s5b/s640/DSCN1328.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">The view. Life was good.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyt5dWy6FrHKUXhCPOD5Tp9jyXX9h1Jc2Ro4mqmW0-ILi6lj6eLWTigLxFZqa1Zv4UmkFZS9XMnQ5MlK1izfwZt_CAkP715kaEriWosiyy6SU_den_lzbIqBAV7iB5YQURFehOKuVcAT5n/s1600/DSCN1334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyt5dWy6FrHKUXhCPOD5Tp9jyXX9h1Jc2Ro4mqmW0-ILi6lj6eLWTigLxFZqa1Zv4UmkFZS9XMnQ5MlK1izfwZt_CAkP715kaEriWosiyy6SU_den_lzbIqBAV7iB5YQURFehOKuVcAT5n/s640/DSCN1334.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">The beautiful surroundings brought out the poet in Laska.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div style="margin: 0px;">I had a tiny bit of food poisoning the first day, so I wasn't feeling so fresh the next day at breakfast. (But come to think of it, only having it once during 5 months isn't too bad, I thought it might be more!) I was trying to eat an omelett, but I didn't have much apetite.</div><div style="margin: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px;">The sweet people working there got worried about me, and asked if there was anything else I wanted. When I asked if they had anything simple, like some fruit, they gave me a whole bunch of bananas and refused to take any money for them. I was touched! The others were going to Rabbit Island by boat, and I decided to go with them, even though I wasn't feeling too good. Then the hotel owner gave me a lift all the way down to the main road on his scooter, so that I didn't have to walk all the way. When I came down I thanked him profoundly in bad Khmer, I think he understood.</div><div style="margin: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px;">I sat down on a bench to wait for the others who walked down, next to me there was a guy selling durian fruit from a cart. He smiled at me, and I smiled back. It was very warm and quiet, I could just hear the wind rustling through the trees. I could smell a hint of the ocean in the air. It struck me that in a week, I would leave all this. I would return to my home, which was very dear to me, but so very different from all I could see from this bench I was sitting on. I teared up, and felt such a strong gratitude towards these wonderful people, this street, this sleepy little town. It was the perfect place to visit my last week in the country. The others came down, and we found a tuk-tuk.</div><div style="margin: 0px;"><br />
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</span></span></div>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-26062462224050789202011-10-31T16:21:00.000-07:002011-10-31T16:22:40.624-07:00Powerful women<span style="background-color: white;">In Chinese there is a cool expression: 半边天, or <em>banbiantian</em>. This litterally means "half the sky", but it apparantly refers to a vision Mao Zedong had, that in the ideal society women should hold up half the sky. So 半边天 today refers to succesful women, often those who have important positions in the government or in companies. When I was 16 I got this book:</span><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background-color: white;">It has a female super hero on the cover, and the title "Half the sky is ours". It was a book that talked about gender issues, and why it is important to be aware of them. I have always liked this title. In Norway women have all the same legal rights as men, but as this title suggests, there is more to equality than what can be written in law books.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background-color: white;">We</span> might be one of the best countries in the world for women to live in, but even here women's income is only 85 % of men's income, and only 1 out of 5 executive managers are women. 2 out of 3 women are employed, but 40 % of these only work part time (the equivalent number for men being 14 %). 50 % of all 15 year old girls think that they weigh too much, when in fact only 16 % are overweight. 120 000 Norwegians have an eating disorder, and 90 % of these are women. (Sources: <a href="http://www.ssb.no/english/subjects/00/02/10/likestilling_en/">1</a> <a href="http://www.nettpsykologene.no/spiseforst.htm">2</a> <a href="http://www.aftenposten.no/helse/article2773621.ece">3</a>)<br />
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</div>Right now in the Norwegian media, there is a lot of talk regarding assault rape cases in Oslo (this being in parks, alleys etc. by unknown perpetrators). 48 cases has been <a href="http://www.dagsavisen.no/innenriks/article522530.ece">reported</a> so far this year, this is a doubling of the total number in 2010, and only 7 cases have been solved. Women in Oslo are scared by this fact, and the political opposition accuses the government for not doing enough to fight the problem.<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;">I think the author Emilie Buchwald has said something wise about this phenomenon: "A rape culture is a culture of intimidation. It keeps women afraid of being attacked and so it keeps women confined in the range of their behavior. That fear makes a woman censor her behavior - her speech, her way of dressing, her actions. It undermines her confidence in her ability to be independent. The necessity to be mindful of one's behavior at all times is far more than annoying. Women's lives are unnecessarily constricted. As a society, this one issue hampers the best efforts of half our population. It costs us heavily in lost initiative and in emotional energy stolen from other, more creative thoughts."</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;">In Scandinavia, the problem of assault rape is worst in Norway at the moment. But of course, it is a much bigger problem in many other places in the world. In Cambodia, friends of mine warned me that I as a woman should not walk alone on the street after dark, or even live by myself (women rarely do). The risk of rape was high, they meant, and the newspaper had stories every day about both grown women and small girls being victims of this. I was told there is a superstition that if a man has sex with a virgin, he will get more "male energy" from it, become more of a man. Because of this, very young girls are often targeted. A case that was especially horrifying last year involved a 6 month old baby girl and 4 grown men, she barely survived the internal injuries. This is hard to learn about, but it's all the more important that focus is brought to the problem.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"> <span style="background-color: white;"><br />
</span></div><span style="background-color: white;">Refering to the Chinese expression, there is a movement called </span><a href="http://www.halftheskymovement.org/"><span style="background-color: white;">Half The Sky</span></a><span style="background-color: white;">, started by the Americans Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn. They are journalists and have won a pulitzer price for their coverage of China, WuDunn being the first Asian-American ever to win it. (She also has <a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/sheryl_wudunn_our_century_s_greatest_injustice.html">this</a> very cool TED talk called "Our century's greatest injustice".) They have written the book "Half the sky - How to change the world" (2010), this was recently translated into Norwegian. I came across a review of it in the newspaper Dagsavisen, I was glad the book was given attention also here.</span><span style="background-color: white;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKvJ83zQYmDyUK65C62aO2Qlub0mcpBjKwlQjtt6xI76a59v-HDunftR4oPQ7hs-WDp1k_-dJoXMiWqWNsEwLqn3UkvVFlMU5FTnYbbwbz54Tp9cgpZb6NuMG2-RiCxTp1nfiHcOUg8ao/s1600/a205-07_77533q.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKvJ83zQYmDyUK65C62aO2Qlub0mcpBjKwlQjtt6xI76a59v-HDunftR4oPQ7hs-WDp1k_-dJoXMiWqWNsEwLqn3UkvVFlMU5FTnYbbwbz54Tp9cgpZb6NuMG2-RiCxTp1nfiHcOUg8ao/s400/a205-07_77533q.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>One of the book's many strong stories: 18 year old Bibi Aisha from Afghanistan was abused by the Taliban. <a href="http://www.dagsavisen.no/kultur/boker/article521653.ece">Photo</a> from Dagsavisen.<br />
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In the book we can read about several people, one of them being the Cambodian girl Srey Rath. When she was 15 she wanted to work in Thailand for two months washing dishes, so she could help her mother financially. The man who had promised her the job then sold her to a brothel in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, where she was transported against her will. When she arrived she first resisted the oppressors, but was then beaten and raped until she obeyed them. She worked as a prostitute for 15 hours per day without getting paid anything, until she and three other girls managed to escape. They went to the police station, but there a police officer arrested them and sold Srey Rath to another brothel in Thailand. She was finally able to escape from here too, and returned to Cambodia and her family. She was helped by an American NGO who worked with victims of trafficking, and she can now make a living by selling things off a cart by the Thai border. As many as 100 000 girls and women are kidnapped and sold to brothels each year, and most aren't as lucky as Srey Rath was.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">American author Anne Rice has bragged about the book: "It’s impossible to exaggerate the importance of this book about one of the most serious problems of our time: the worldwide abuse and exploitation of women. In addition to describing the injustices, Kristof and WuDunn show how concerned individuals everywhere are working effectively to empower women and help them overcome adversity. Wonderfully written and vividly descriptive, Half the Sky can and should galvanize support for reform on all levels. Inspiring as it is shocking, this book demands to be read."<br />
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In 2009 Kristof and WuDunn also wrote "Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide", which also became a best seller. Inspiring!</span>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-52998661011625968872011-10-24T13:26:00.000-07:002011-10-26T03:30:09.951-07:00Telethon for mine clearingThis Sunday we had the big <a href="http://www.npaid.org/en/nrk_telethon/">NRK Telethon</a>, or <em>TV-aksjonen</em> as we call it in Norwegian. This is a big fund raiser where people can either give donations online, or to the volunteers who show up at their door. I have participated in this several times, and it really is a nice project to be a part of. You meet a lot of nice people when you go around knocking on doors, most of them are happy to give some change to a good cause.<br />
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The organization they're raising funds for this year is The Norwegian People's Aid, and their work to clear mines. The countries in focus now are Vietnam, Laos, Sudan, Lebanon, Bosnia-Herzegovina and Tajikistan, but the organization has already done a lot of <a href="http://www.npaid.org/en/countries/asia/cambodia/">work</a> in Cambodia. Cambodia is one of the most heavily mined countries in the world, both land mines and UXOs (unexploded ordinances) are a huge problem. These are mostly leftovers from the roughly 500 000 bombs that the US dropped in the late 1960 and early 1970s.<br />
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The Cambodian Mine Action Center believes that there are 4-6 million mines left in Cambodia, most of them in rural areas. From 2000-2005 about 850 people died each year because of landmines, since then the number has steadily decreased. One third of the casualties are children, who often starts playing with shiny things on the ground without realizing that is a lethal weapon. 40 000 people life as amputees in Cambodia, one of the highest rates in the world, and I saw many of these people begging in the streets of Phnom Penh. These are mostly victims of land mine explosions.<br />
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Here's an interesting <a href="http://www.nrk.no/programmer/tv/tv-aksjonen/1.7788446">clip</a> (in Norwegian) about how different types of mines work. Hard to hear about at times, but I think it's important to know. You can also hear this year's telethon <a href="http://nrk.no/programmer/tv/tv-aksjonen/1.7814001">song</a> "Field of fire", by the great band Big Bang.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9nG4N5ynzr26vZ76BdbT6R-CZ4U4rxazV2dRu_Q-Md2ZlipjeL-fqCRw8LVkh3Jq13OPfCG0pNipovJKr3npj4bMQiqXjgMW5kKjQE1qekQjsJgHsme2dv7mxQHIhNURkjRdOwYSw61_Q/s1600/kambodsjaminerstortbruk2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" rda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9nG4N5ynzr26vZ76BdbT6R-CZ4U4rxazV2dRu_Q-Md2ZlipjeL-fqCRw8LVkh3Jq13OPfCG0pNipovJKr3npj4bMQiqXjgMW5kKjQE1qekQjsJgHsme2dv7mxQHIhNURkjRdOwYSw61_Q/s640/kambodsjaminerstortbruk2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Photo taken in Cambodia by the <a href="http://www.npaid.org/en/mine_action/">Norwegian People's Aid</a>.<br />
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This year's telethon was the second best ever held, and it raised about $520,000. Not bad! Let's hope this money will save a lot of lives, and make children be able to run around in the fields of their villages without a care in the world. It's hard to put a price on a safe and peaceful childhood, it's something everyone in the world should get.The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-52837002768233211432011-10-09T07:41:00.000-07:002011-10-15T03:10:00.579-07:00Media coverage<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The media in Cambodia are now all concerned with the flooding in South East Asia, that has led Thai prime minister <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">Yingluck Shinawatra </span>to say that Bangkok might be <a href="http://www.businessweek.com/news/2011-10-08/thailand-s-flood-waters-threaten-bangkok-prime-minister-says.html">swamped</a> by the massive amounts of water.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In Norwegian media, this is not talked about a lot. It seems that we have two main news stories these days, one being the <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/world/women-of-strength-share-nobel-peace-prize-20111009-1lfqe.html">Nobel Peace Prize</a>. It has been awarded to three very important, courageous women this year, hooray! I watched the documentary "<a href="http://praythedevilbacktohell.com/">Pray the devil back to hell</a>" last year, and these women's struggle for peace in Liberia made a very strong impression on me (two of these women are this year's laureates). Now my friend Kimsor has informed me that this movie will be translated and dubbed into Khmer, which is wonderful, I hope many Cambodians can be as inspired as I was.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The other hot topic in Norwegian media is of a slightly different nature. A Danish hunter has shot Albin, the celebrity moose. He is called this because of the special color of his fur. Albin was first thought to be albino, but scientists now think that it just has the unusual color coincidentally.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="http://www.nrk.no/nyheter/distrikt/ostfold/1.7231203">Albin</a> as we will remember him, proud and beige. He lived to be six years old (in moose years).</span><br />
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</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In 2009 there were hot rumours that Albin had gotten a <a href="http://www.vg.no/nyheter/innenriks/artikkel.php?artid=540707">girlfriend</a>, the brown moose in the background. I have to point out that hese rumours were never confirmed.</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The hunter Oddbjørn is sad and angry over the<a href="http://www.nrk.no/nyheter/distrikt/ostfold/1.7825319"> killing</a> of Albin. Here he shows the last footage he took of him. Oddbjørn at least hopes that the Dane will donate Albin's body to a Norwegian museum, so that he can be mounted, displayed and remembered for generations to come.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The Danish hunter has received death threats from Norwegian moose enthusiasts (</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>enmoosiasts?</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">), and has gone underground.</span>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-87173991893863585232011-10-07T10:42:00.000-07:002011-10-07T10:42:21.675-07:00Flooding<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">There are several flash floods going on in Cambodia these days, 164 people have died so far, 15 provinces are affected and 215 000 people have been displaced. It's the worst one they've had for a decade, in July 2000 there was a flood that killed 347 people, but there was a lot less damage to roads and rice paddies than there is now. Vietnam, Thailand, Laos and Pakistan are also struggling with the same problem.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyrBYQfkXrSlkawb45zbo6Z-kHI2PFGQG1MFDMx2v-w-_1oPoWShMH91H6eJduH3Y3WlFyqiepwiP0_bdLXmBfxg7LpiHWf3Sj8rpm9uvMufHipHKcq6mu5VVmbzzUQfEcU7Y2j4VcyQY/s1600/kid.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" height="265" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyrBYQfkXrSlkawb45zbo6Z-kHI2PFGQG1MFDMx2v-w-_1oPoWShMH91H6eJduH3Y3WlFyqiepwiP0_bdLXmBfxg7LpiHWf3Sj8rpm9uvMufHipHKcq6mu5VVmbzzUQfEcU7Y2j4VcyQY/s400/kid.bmp" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://cambodiatodayz.com/floods-drown-asias-rice-bowl.html"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Photo</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> of a brave little kid in the middle of the flood in Cambodia</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I have never previously worked with an enviroment project before the Let’s do it-project in Phnom Penh. But as so many others, I remember the earth quake and tsunami in South East Asia in 2004, and the focus it put on climate change and natural disasters. The Norwegian media focused mostly on Thailand, because this where most of the 84 deceased Norwegians had been on Christmas vacation when it struck. But where Thailand lost an estimated 8000 people, one thinks as many as 167 000 people lost their lives in Indonesia. 230 000 people </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2004_Indian_Ocean_earthquake#Death_toll_and_casualties"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">altogether</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">. In a small country like ours, everyone knew of someone who died. In my case it was a teacher at my elementary school, and her little daughter. I remember her being pregnant when I was still in school, and was very sad to hear these news when it happened.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgusqYVe3a4DoqzSfYwMk4gpiMMOtnj1IdOabPF34kpHZSxND3DcetJ0CHbIfPidigCad_vJxnOtaxBF3plkUbNCQ5NDdd7ftD4g-c43fn7QdMM53diBXvoD-X2aKZj1J5lfJ-UVqEdE8zw/s1600/2004-tsunami.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" height="464" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgusqYVe3a4DoqzSfYwMk4gpiMMOtnj1IdOabPF34kpHZSxND3DcetJ0CHbIfPidigCad_vJxnOtaxBF3plkUbNCQ5NDdd7ftD4g-c43fn7QdMM53diBXvoD-X2aKZj1J5lfJ-UVqEdE8zw/s640/2004-tsunami.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Scary, scary photo of the tsunami in Thailand. Taken from </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:2004-tsunami.jpg"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Wikipedia</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">.</span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">A more recent event that has brought a lot of attention to natural disasters in the region (and nuclear power in general), is of course the earth quake and following tsunami east of Japan in March. It caused almost 16 000 deaths and hundreds of thousands of residents have been evacuated because of the meltdowns at the Fukushima nuclear plant.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">When talking about global environmental issues in Cambodia, people were very concerned about the Phillipines. Greenpeace has used them as an example of one of the countries that suffers the most from man made climate change, with extreme weather occurrences such as floods, droughts, forest fires, land slides and an increase in tropical cyclones.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change issued a report in 2007 saying that the s</span>ea level could rise between 18 and 59 centimeters (7 to 23 inches) by century's end. Rises of just 10 centimeters (4 inches) could flood many South Seas islands and swamp large parts of Southeast Asia. The students I talked to in Cambodia were interested in these facts, recognizing that even though their country doesn't pollute a lot compared to the rest of the world, they are very vulnerable to these changes.</span></span></div>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-37701712957564081752011-10-04T09:58:00.001-07:002012-03-18T04:12:32.558-07:00Siem ReapI have traveled quite a bit in Europe and in Asia, and my favourite thing to see has rarely been famous buildings. Maybe because of the hype, the other tourists, the heat, the annoying guides, I’m not sure. I prefer walking the streets with no tourists, sitting in cafés where I can’t understand the menu and look at people going by. If I come across a tourist even in this setting, I’m often a bit irritated, as I’m sure they are too when they spot me. (Hey compadre, this café isn’t big enough for two pretend-locals!) Anyways, if you read about Cambodia on the internet, the one tourist sight everyone talks about is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angkor_Wat">Angkor Wat</a>.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is a temple outside Siem Reap, the largest and most famous one among the so called Angkorian temples. I will honestly admit that I didn’t have very high expectations of these sights when I ventured out on a three day trip to see them. The first one I saw was the Angkor Wat, and I was impressed by the size of it and the nice atmosphere there. But then came all the others. I was astonished by all this beauty, never before have physical buldings made such an impression on me. We had long tuktuk rides in between the temples, which were nice breaks to have in between all the stories and stone carvings. When I think back on it, it almost seem like o<span lang="EN-US">ne long, meditative journey through history and art :)</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US">Angkor was the capital of the Khmer Empire until the 15<sup>th</sup> century, and was then most likely unpopulated for 300 years until French archaeologists re-discovered the area in 1860. In the meantime the jungle had been able to grow freely around the temples, and some places huge, 300 year old trees have grown straight through stone floors and walls. It’s fascinating! Monks usually wrote down important things on palm leafs through history, and these have mostly disappeared and perished. So the best historical sources we have today over the Khmer Empire, are the texts carved into the stone walls in the different temples. They’re mostly about the emperors at the time, and current wars. I will post some of my many photos from the temples here:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-kkbeWR0rjK1sp9hlCQMAzoFavKv0RRk1KZdhUroZt_WweAXVApSl3wijP3PSampvV1baIbhoq6U79XBzJkA3kmwaOgfzdyd5_Ayzep-vJJF3WN7qzCDKxMPjkqdg-0G5S_Csb06K5mpp/s1600/Angkor+Wat.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-kkbeWR0rjK1sp9hlCQMAzoFavKv0RRk1KZdhUroZt_WweAXVApSl3wijP3PSampvV1baIbhoq6U79XBzJkA3kmwaOgfzdyd5_Ayzep-vJJF3WN7qzCDKxMPjkqdg-0G5S_Csb06K5mpp/s640/Angkor+Wat.JPG" width="640" /></a></div> Sunrise over Angkor Wat<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYtRJ-DnD1WkkuViHWrWVa_iI0u14TdGJotwH_DSEd5R1laYyiKcgE9_BdVIeT4q8an6PHsg5JwyoptySb9s1HgNiIgx1uiEw2tVvje8AhE0ghID6wmB15vUmkHCR1AhCxm7SV0kXMCpuK/s1600/Aper.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYtRJ-DnD1WkkuViHWrWVa_iI0u14TdGJotwH_DSEd5R1laYyiKcgE9_BdVIeT4q8an6PHsg5JwyoptySb9s1HgNiIgx1uiEw2tVvje8AhE0ghID6wmB15vUmkHCR1AhCxm7SV0kXMCpuK/s640/Aper.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Monkey by the Angkor Wat, holding on to her baby's tail. Cute!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4klNjuwTnldz0ktE1uI50UJTzFi7jO2s-Z1ruTzBS5syjUPJrY6eMWWakamk9f3CTr4GmFcl25yZVR_LuZ6fwOP3D1MGdrQ-ivu1ChdpgEVuLUOBxdvUUJF3fQV8NjzSzzhQ3pRaQjatP/s1600/Bayon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4klNjuwTnldz0ktE1uI50UJTzFi7jO2s-Z1ruTzBS5syjUPJrY6eMWWakamk9f3CTr4GmFcl25yZVR_LuZ6fwOP3D1MGdrQ-ivu1ChdpgEVuLUOBxdvUUJF3fQV8NjzSzzhQ3pRaQjatP/s640/Bayon.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>The Bayon Temple<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiucz3mJcpSD8O7Zvvh7mUOrCo255c9e4tp8bozmNEJj7RS373JuDj3inMUZe-laSAXQhQ11HqJXLMfn-avlx4vd9PjnoKjJwFrHL4M3kMHDxOrUEWL-SKbiKpRFvcMfO-pNZKgbkzH5IT-/s1600/Bantey+Srey.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiucz3mJcpSD8O7Zvvh7mUOrCo255c9e4tp8bozmNEJj7RS373JuDj3inMUZe-laSAXQhQ11HqJXLMfn-avlx4vd9PjnoKjJwFrHL4M3kMHDxOrUEWL-SKbiKpRFvcMfO-pNZKgbkzH5IT-/s640/Bantey+Srey.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>The Banteay Srei temple<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh688mKfHDPWiCxwUjKohNJwZ7d3-kohHPTZAc__4Ni-helL3zBLMK_Cvguam98Nwp7lzjQk0A_7-5hbSxgmgImLpI50PEw82MCfetMruza3TjKFMgiYTzCcFCtqUKW3M5T85nFyXFU7AWY/s1600/Ta+Prohm+tre.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh688mKfHDPWiCxwUjKohNJwZ7d3-kohHPTZAc__4Ni-helL3zBLMK_Cvguam98Nwp7lzjQk0A_7-5hbSxgmgImLpI50PEw82MCfetMruza3TjKFMgiYTzCcFCtqUKW3M5T85nFyXFU7AWY/s640/Ta+Prohm+tre.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>Ta Prohm<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1RQ-fULVJvhxZvA-LHBztrSQcrKXVSth52XaDTbxlw4WYeDbVx79nYk0IVnOS7W-OSApBQTVPAotZjL4ARTJsbpCoeIeRkzHOeUVKfQoq0c8PvGmkJ1hd7wof6n7VzEcUJEQTIE38XnvZ/s1600/Tre+med+vegg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1RQ-fULVJvhxZvA-LHBztrSQcrKXVSth52XaDTbxlw4WYeDbVx79nYk0IVnOS7W-OSApBQTVPAotZjL4ARTJsbpCoeIeRkzHOeUVKfQoq0c8PvGmkJ1hd7wof6n7VzEcUJEQTIE38XnvZ/s640/Tre+med+vegg.JPG" width="478" /></a></div>Beautiful colours<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnHs6TnkW5PdmWBaQMZoFIsmzB7edX3U4pMemNG-R7nGLDOe6eWIYTDUmL7F9HgjM9nCqeV7zj_ZhNb2E-bk0AV_lCQkLzM0UFei95JTnXek7-_nshJM8nOgY9a4f2bSwvBfkJoavduThF/s1600/Palme.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnHs6TnkW5PdmWBaQMZoFIsmzB7edX3U4pMemNG-R7nGLDOe6eWIYTDUmL7F9HgjM9nCqeV7zj_ZhNb2E-bk0AV_lCQkLzM0UFei95JTnXek7-_nshJM8nOgY9a4f2bSwvBfkJoavduThF/s640/Palme.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><span lang="EN-US">Oh, how I will miss the palm trees</span><br />
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</div>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-37456839489095750342011-09-28T07:42:00.000-07:002011-09-28T07:42:19.765-07:00A good project<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Last fall I took a very interesting course at my university, called ”Environment and development”. The class was a nice contrast to my courses in economics! We of course talked a lot about environment and pollution, but also fundemental questions like what our relationship to nature really is, and what responsibility we have towards it. Does nature have a value in itself, or just through how it can help people? We also talked about “development”. The word naturally just means a change, or a progress of some sort. But we often use it synonymously with industrialization, increased production and GDP, increased “standard of living”. Maybe at any cost? So when I went to Cambodia, I was excited over seeing a so called developing country up close. How NGOs did their work, what kind of aid proved to be most successful.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Before going, I learnt that my very cool doctor had actually worked there for some time with her husband. They’re both doctors, and they decided to do something completely different for a few months, in a whole new place. They started an initiative where they went around in boats to the people in the floating villages on the Tonle Sap, and provided medical care to the people who needed it. Needless to say, it was normally very hard for these villagers to go to a medical institution for help. One year later she was very happy and proud to hear that the project had continued without them, now operated by local Cambodian doctors. I learnt that a big problem with these initiatives started by foreigners, is that they’re not sustainable for when they leave. They might stay for a few months or a year, and then the locals don’t have the compentence or the funding to continue the project. And worse, sometimes the locals have learnt to depend on the temporary projects, and might suffer when it suddenly disappears.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I met a nice guy who worked for an NGO called BB2C, they had project on water pumps used in agriculture. About 85 % of the population are farmers, so this is a very important focus area in Cambodia. They struggle to grow crops during the dry season, november – may, so they import a lot of fruits and vegetables from Vietnam, and the prices are extra high during this time of the year. Their idea was to follow the model of a project in Kenya called KickStart. They would buy efficient, environmental friendly water pumps that were easy to operate, and that were simple to maintain and repair. The farmers could use the pumps to water their fields efficiently, get higher yield and even grow crops outside the rainy season. The NGO first tried giving away a certain number of pumps as a trial project, with the criteria that the farmers who received them wanted to use them, and had access to water that could be pumped up.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One year later the NGO returned to see what results the farmers had gotten with the pumps. They were surprised to find that only a very small amount of the pumps were still in use, most of them stood covered in dust and almost untouched. When trying to find out why the farmers weren’t using the pumps, even though they had gotten the training and had been guaranteed larger crops if they did use them, the reasons were varied. Some had found it too complicated, and given up. Some weren’t motivated after all to change the way they worked on their land. Some didn’t have as good access to water as they had claimed to have. The project was deemed pretty unsuccesful, and they decided to sell the pumps instead of just giving them away.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They sold them for less than the production cost, I believe for about 100 dollars, and they went to small villages to give training in how to use them and fix them. Often families or neighbourhoods would buy a pump together, so that more people would benefit from the purchase. One year later, the NGO was happy to see that basically all the pumps were in use, and the farmers had all gotten very good results and increased incomes. If something was wrong with the pump, you could take it apart with your hands without using tools, and they were able to fix it themselves. The pump didn’t need electricity or gasoline to run, so it was a long-term environmentally sustainable solution. I thought this was an interesting story! When the farmers and the communities decided for themselves to invest some money in the pump, they felt a full ownership and responsibilty for the project. I bet they also got a great feeling of accomplishment<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>when they made this investment work, and could harvest a larger crop for themselves and their families. Inspiring.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZpsuD56-XHMNlekcc5QeSr8e3UKDztSWtPk2J2-Vb13ogbsmC397oONwnB-52bPIxIVJd11rUbBuCvUAYnlGM52j5o4Ej-pskCvBl3lrMdWwWu4GAP21bgpmkCAvQ11mPsSgrE7VwE_VE/s1600/5581652833_8528804bc1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZpsuD56-XHMNlekcc5QeSr8e3UKDztSWtPk2J2-Vb13ogbsmC397oONwnB-52bPIxIVJd11rUbBuCvUAYnlGM52j5o4Ej-pskCvBl3lrMdWwWu4GAP21bgpmkCAvQ11mPsSgrE7VwE_VE/s400/5581652833_8528804bc1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Photo from the NGO's <a href="http://www.bb2c.org/">website</a>.</span></span></div>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-76520910249255039972011-08-13T05:54:00.000-07:002011-08-13T05:54:28.486-07:00Summer, still<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The other day I felt it. For maybe the first time in Norway this year, that special summer feeling. The day before I had spent a very nice evening at a friend's summer house in Moss, we had taken a swim in the lovely ocean water, and eaten shrimps with white bread, lemon and mayonnaise, a traditional summer dish in Norway. When the night got cooler we gathered around an outside fireplace and drank red wine under wool blankets. A wonderful evening. But the next day I was just walking along the street on my way to a little shop, waiting for my friend to pick me up in her car and taking me to the train station. The sun was warming me, I heard a car going by somewhere far away, and there were hardly any other people around. I felt a remarkable calm, and the biggest concern I had on my mind, was whether or not I would have time to buy an ice cream in the shop before my friend arrived.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It struck me that this is the true wonder of the summer holiday, when you are able to be so blank, to have so few concerns, and just enjoy the moment. This was very easy when I was a child, but has become more difficult the older I have gotten. Not that I'm always super worried about things, but I can rarely say that I don't have any concerns at all. Especially not this summer, which has been a sad one for Norway.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cambodia now seems very far away. The streets, the restaurants, my apartment. Sitting on my friend Dar's motor bike. I wasn't that impressed by the book "Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance", which I tried reading a few months back, but I liked how he talked about riding a motor cycle:</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-language: JA;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><!--StartFragment--></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On a cycle the frame is gone. You're completely in contact with it all. You're in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming. That concrete whizzing by five inches below your foot is the real thing, the same stuff you walk on, it's right there, so blurred you can't focus on it, yet you can put your foot down and touch it anytime, and the whole thing, the whole experience, is never removed from immediate consciousness.</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Just before leaving Cambodia, I got the sweetest Facebook message from my friend:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Hey, are you still in Cambodia? I'm in the Phillippines, alone and crying! No, just kidding. No, not really. Maybe I can come visit you?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I sent her my warmest invitation to The Kingdom of Wonder (or the kingdom of water, as my friend calls it in the rainy season), but she didn't end up having the time to come. It still made me think of how lucky I am to have friends in different parts of the world. The cost of the plane ticket will always be an obstacle, but when you have a friend on the other side of the journey, travelling becomes so much easier. Almost as if they were just on the other side of a fence in a field. Jump over, and come see my world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I saw this photo that Alisa took of me and Indre, the day Indre left Cambodia.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDgavPxGfAnGCf8b3baxs8s_n4O_wO5VVJceKlQAazVRvM3t0-V9uISa2kxpDFxaZWBAfXQ5jdObiKaANzNLBo8JoZpyh1axMFjywD3-ZPmBKYoH0GnakLo8n9tngBSCGOlME8HBffTQiv/s1600/Indreogmeg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDgavPxGfAnGCf8b3baxs8s_n4O_wO5VVJceKlQAazVRvM3t0-V9uISa2kxpDFxaZWBAfXQ5jdObiKaANzNLBo8JoZpyh1axMFjywD3-ZPmBKYoH0GnakLo8n9tngBSCGOlME8HBffTQiv/s640/Indreogmeg.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We're not far from the Monument of Indepence. Im not sure why I like this photo so much. It's crooked and colourful, just like Phnom Penh. Maybe because it already looks a bit old. It's as if I can imagine myself many years from now, looking at this photograph and remembering the day. This is the person I was, May 24th 2011. This was my face, my arms, my legs. The worn-out shoes that I had used every day for five months, when I wasn't barefoot in white sand. The bag I bought at the Tuoltompuong market. These were the clouds, the light, the scorching sun. This was the tan girl I worked with and laughed with and ate with in our gloomy little office. These were the streets, the bikes, the puddles that made up Phnom Penh.</span></span></div><br />
<!--EndFragment--> The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-25666113931712985662011-08-13T05:31:00.000-07:002011-08-13T05:31:35.860-07:00The disaster July 22nd<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-language: JA;">July 22nd I had been home from Cambodia a bit more than a week. I was walking in the center of Oslo with my good friend Mari, who was a bit annoyed with me because I had been late to meet her. We were passing the National Theatre, headed up to Egertorget, when the bomb went off.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-language: JA;">The biggest bang we had ever heard, we held our ears and were very startled. It sounded like it came from exactly where we were headed. Some people around us just stood and stared towards where the sound came from, others laughed it off and continued on their way, some people looked scared and started running. My friend thought it had been a gas explosion or some sort of accident, but we decided to go home to her parents' house not far from the town center. Mari read the news on her iPhone, and we soon learned that the explosion had been next to the government's head office. It didn't seem likely that it could have been an accident. The destruction was huge, it said, and we could only imagine how many people could have died. We were welcomed by Mari's parents, who were just as shocked and sad as we were. Still I was very happy to be able to be there, seeing that my own family was on vacation in France. They were so sweet to us, preparing a nice lunch and not constantly watching the news. I didn't want to see it or hear it. I felt like my country was breaking in front of my eyes. And then the news about the shooting came.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I don't know how common this is in other countries, but in Norway all the big political parties have youth organizations. These organizations work to involve youth in politics, and to influence their "mother party" and decisions made in the parliament. They all have camps during the summer. The biggest party in government now is the Labour Party, and their youth organization is AUF. When I was in high school I was a member of SU, the youth organization of the Socialistic Left Party, and we would bump into AUF-people on different occasions in the political scene. We always saw them as a bit too far to the right, but they were cool people and good to discuss politics with. July 22nd AUF had their summer camp on the island Utøya, and SU was supposed to have their camp a few days after.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The strange message came from the news, that there were some shots being fired at Utøya. We tried to stay calm, thinking that it was nothing serious. But unfortunately, the news just became worse every minute. Kids as young as 14 years old had swum across the freezing waters from Utøya, where the currents are very strong, and talked about a massacre happening on the island. Maybe as many as 20-30 kids had been shot, they said. There were about 600 people on the island, and some were swimming for their lives, others were rescued in boats, a lot tried to hide in the woods.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">At first there were two different jihadist groups who claimed responsibility for what had happened. My friend and I had problems believing this. Jihadists targeting AUF, youth politicians? It didn't make sense for a second. What later turned out to have happened was that an ethnically Norwegian man, with blond hair and blue eyes and the whole Norwegian package, stood behind everything. First he drove the car bomb into town, then he went to Utøya dressed as a police man, with an automatic rifle. When he came to the island he said that he had important messages to give in regards to the bomb in Oslo, and asked the kids to gather around him. Then he started shooting people.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">AUF had hired a police man in plain clothing as security. His son was with him, so he threw him behind a rock to protect him, and then tried to stop the murder. He was shot dead, but his son survived. All together 69 people were killed on the island, mostly teenagers, the youngest ones 14 years old. Many are still badly hurt, some will have permanent physical injuries, and many will be psychologically traumatized. 8 people died in the explosion in Oslo.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">When the news first broke about Utøya, I went on Facebook to see what people wrote. Hoping that no one I knew was at the island. Two friends of mine had younger siblings there, but they fortunately came home safe. Then I saw the status update of Håvard, who I had studied economics with. He said "We're alive and hiding." And that's the last thing we heard from him. 21 years old. I didn't know Håvard well, just through the studies and a student trip to Vietnam. But he was a very nice guy, passionate about everything he talked about, socially inclusive, very insightful when it came to politics, had a laughter that made you want to smile as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">My first impression of him I got when he walked around in a blue t-shirt encouraging people to vote at the church elections in 2009, meaning the elected boards of the parishes. I later found out that he was openly gay, and wanted a church that had room for everyone. A very noble cause that takes a lot of courage and patience to fight for. He was the leader</span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> of Oslo AUF, and he thought inclusion of all groups in society was very important. He for instance wanted religious signs such as hijabs to be </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KPLYO4-YWL4">legal</a></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> to wear if you're a judge in court, to prevent exclusion of ethnic minorities in our legal system.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">To be honest, I haven't wanted to read so much about the killer. I don't even want to write his name here, it's all over the internet anyway. But he is a 32 year old guy from more or less the same part of Oslo as I am, raised in a seemingly normal family and social setting. As far as I've understood he is deeply Christian, and his political stand is extreme right. He was against the multicultural society (very hostile towards Islam), and wanted to punish the biggest ruling political party for making Norway into one. By going after the youth party, he also wanted to kill tomorrow's young leaders. The most tolerant and open minded of them all, people like Håvard.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There was recently an article about Håvard in the paper, where his friends told how brave he had been during the shooting. First he had gone in to a building to warn a group of people that there was a killer outside. Then a girl jumped out of the window and broken her ankle, and he carried her to some bushes where she could safely hide. He then found another group of people who were scared and hiding, and he held them and comforted them and calmed them down. Then he left them, and lost his life. No one can expect people to react rationally and selflessly to such dramatic events, and I hope the people who survived won't feel like they did something wrong by prioritizing saving their own lives. But it also makes me tear up to think about Håvard's actions, that he saved a girl's life even though he must have been terrified himself. I hope this can be a small consolation for his family, in the middle of all the grief.<o:p></o:p></span></div><!--EndFragment--> The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-84244561566548711782011-06-26T08:47:00.000-07:002011-06-27T20:20:36.700-07:00Global issues vs. cake<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, it certainly is nice to have a job again. After the Let’s do it-project finished, I was unemployed for a little while. I’m not going to lie, it wasn’t pretty. I lost all sense of purpose, spent my days in the local restaurant, drank so many cappuccinos and passion fruit shakes that they refused to serve me any more. I hit on all the waitresses and the chef, before they threw me out on the street. No, not really! I just spent more time on Facebook and watching Masterchef Australia, an excellent show. Appeals both to your heart and your palate, and I’m actually serious now, it’s a remarkable program. Got me through the rough patch.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While taking my morning shower the other day, I met a lizard. First I thought it was dead, then it started to crawl around in the water. I will admit that I was startled, I had to splash water on it with my foot to keep it from charging right at me. I though we had a deal, Mother Nature, no creepy animals before 9 a.m! I’m just not mentally ready before breakfast and a cup of coffee. And in the shower! Maybe it was cleaning up to go on a date with the cute lizard in my kitchen. Share a breadcrumb on the counter, have a romantic crawl up the fridge, enjoy the view?</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Afterwards I sat at my local café, eating a piece of cake and thinking about the lizard encounter. I was sitting alone, and a conversation to my right caught my attention. Three white ladies were using big words and dramatic hand gestures, talking about social problems in rural Cambodia. “The poor thing”, they said, “of course that will mess you up”, “that is so heart breaking”, I just got bits and pieces of their conversation. “You know what the real problem is?”, one of them said in a pensive way. They looked up at her, and I paid attention. Yes, what is the real problem? “They just don’t fear God”, she said sadly. I watched the other ladies, wondering how they would respond. Laugh? Get upset? Poke her with a fork? “Yes, you’re right” they said, nodding thoughtfully.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Wow”, I just had to think. There are four pink people in this room. Three of them are conjuring up ridiculous conclusions to world problems, over their after noon lattes. And the fourth one is too busy eating carrot cake and combatting tiny reptiles to deal with the real issues at hand. This isn’t helping, people! The folks in rural Cambodia have many problems, but fearing the man in the sky with the long beard is not one of them. (Growing a beard could be one of their concerns, at least for the guys. Not a lot of facial hair.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some people finds these big subjects so complex and difficult that they feel overwhelmed, they're not even sure how they should approach them or where they should start. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well I know exactly where: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Global issues</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>global problems</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, it takes so long to say. I would like to launch two new terms for this, and I hope they will catch on: </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">glissues</span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">globroblems</span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Glo-bal-iss-ues is four syllables, while gliss-ues is only two. (Even one if you say it really quickly, GLISSUES! Make sure you don't spit.) That is 50 % more efficient than its predecessor. <i>Globroblems</i> sounds a bit like an ethnic group in a Harry Potter book, but that just gives the term some extra charm.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will follow up on my efficiency thought there, and address the matter of speech in general. What if, during big meetings and conferences where development is being discussed, everyone spoke 50 % more quickly? We would have 50 % more time to discuss the glissues, and a 50 % increase of solutions to them. The topic of development would get a huge competitive advantage</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to snail speed subjects like business, sports, entertainment... Eat our dust, suckers!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One problem with this is of course that people from non-English speaking countries often speak English more slowly than others. So my question is: Do they really have to be there? Many countries have English as their first language, England, USA, Canada, Australia... And Singaporians speak great English, so Asia is covered! Maybe the lingually impaired countries can pay a foreigner to speak quickly for them? Rent-A-Brit.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> If they were short of cash, I'm sure the richer countries could lend them the money. Because poverty is globroblematic, and it concerns us all.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well this is enough development work for one day, I'm exhausted. In stead I will tell you about something that happened to me. A couple of weeks ago, I discovered a very strange coincident. In my plastic jar of multivitamins, there was exactly as many vitamin pills left, as I had days left in Cambodia. What are the odds!? (Yes, I counted my multivitamins for fun. Don’t judge me, I was unemployed.) These little things in life…moments you will remember. I was sitting on my unmade bed in Phnom Penh, without a job and without a clear idea of what the future held for me. But I had a few dollars in my pocket, the exact number of multivitamins that I needed, and I was happy.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOF5IEZI7XcHm8w-dR8vpl3KGArR3VIURkn1_pCI3ZpbA7x-wqvFtShDzwgaWJuDHY0iTGvAPkBeJSu1g3ut4xuLyTYeD8nXAg3cM4VWhfM7F8soNwYMS1BGvt7dm1d0O9lRgDjEEI3FuF/s1600/Image0095.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOF5IEZI7XcHm8w-dR8vpl3KGArR3VIURkn1_pCI3ZpbA7x-wqvFtShDzwgaWJuDHY0iTGvAPkBeJSu1g3ut4xuLyTYeD8nXAg3cM4VWhfM7F8soNwYMS1BGvt7dm1d0O9lRgDjEEI3FuF/s640/Image0095.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I snapped this sunset with my phone the other day. I will miss my street!</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-51074890891010648932011-06-26T04:14:00.000-07:002011-07-05T02:48:40.969-07:00Travel advice<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Now that I have 2 weeks left in this wonderful country, it struck me that I should write a list of tips that I wish someone could have given me. So here it is! This will be interesting to read if you're coming here, and maybe not so interesting if you're not coming here :)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><u><span lang="EN-GB"><br />
</span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My Incredibly Intelligent List of Cambodia Travel Tips:</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><u><span lang="EN-GB"><br />
</span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><u><span lang="EN-GB">Packing<o:p></o:p></span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Most things you can get in Cambodia! So don’t worry about leaving clothes behind.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">If you have some books in English that you don’t need, you should bring them to Cambodia. Many people want to learn English, and orphanages often want books for the kids there.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Bring 25 USD and a photo for when you’re buying the visa you need. (If you don’t have a photo, you can pay them a few dollars to scan your passport in stead.)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><u><span lang="EN-GB">Visa<o:p></o:p></span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">If you buy a visa upon arrival at the airport, you can only get it for 1 month. Tourist visa is 20 dollars, business visa is 25 dollars. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">If your visa expires, you pay a fine of 5 dollars for every day it’s overdue. There are travel agents everywhere who can extend your visa for you, but sometimes mistakes can occur. Check that you get the right visa with correct dates, and get a receipt.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">You can extend your visa to 1, 3 or 6 months. The 6 month one is a multiple entry visa, for the other types you must buy a new visa if you return to Cambodia after a trip abroad.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Note: If you extend your tourist visa with a new tourist visa, you have to leave the country and then come back after the two months have expired, to get a third visa.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><u><span lang="EN-GB">Getting around<o:p></o:p></span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">There is no convenient public transportation in Phnom Penh, so unless you get your own bike, you can take a moto taxi (a guy on a motorbike) or a tuk-tuk. Remember to arrange a price before you go, and it’s always good to have the exact amount of money ready.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Bring - a - map! You will be lost without a map. Sometimes streets with consecutive numbers will be next to each other, sometimes they will be on the opposite sides of town. Sometimes your driver will know the address you're going to, sometimes he won't have a clue.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">The numbers of the houses on the street can also be pretty random, house number 7 can come after house number 36, and most of the time there's no sign that says which number it is. The best way to find a place is to know the street, and know which street crosses it where you're going. For instance: St. 51 by the corner of st. 63. To have the phone number to the place is also good.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><u><span lang="EN-GB">Health<o:p></o:p></span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">My Norwegian doctor told me that there was risk of getting malaria in all of Cambodia except for in Phnom Penh. But both locals and expats who live here, say that the risk of getting malaria in cities like for instance Siem Reap, is extremely low. When it comes to the more remote areas, you should talk to someone who lives there about the risk, and decide whether or not you should take anti-malaria drugs. I have met very few people here who take them over long periods of time, they can be rough on your body.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">My doctor also scared me with stories about dengue fever, which you can get anywhere from the daytime mosquito. I hardly ever get mosquito bites during the daytime here, and the people who live here don't consider dengue to be a very dangerous illness for adults. You can feel really bad for maybe two weeks, and you should go to a doctor, but it's no crisis.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">It’s fine to brush your teeth in the tap water, but you shouldn’t drink it. You can get a water company to deliver 20-liter water tanks to your apartment, it’s cheaper and better for the environment than buying hundreds of water bottles. Plastic bottles and bags is the biggest trash problem in Cambodia!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">There are many counterfeit medicines and drugs in Cambodia. If you need to buy medicines at a pharmacy, U-Care is the best one.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">If you need to go to the hospital, the Royal Rattanak Hospital is the best one in Phnom Penh. The best clinic is the SOS Clinic, which is open 24/7.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><u><span lang="EN-GB">Social behavior and etiquette</span></u><u><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">It’s not common for Cambodian women to show a lot of skin, foreign girls should be aware of this. It is not seen as impolite to wear a short dress or low neckline in public, but you might attract a lot of attention.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Cambodians often speak English well. But if you say something they don’t get, they won’t always admit that they don’t understand you. So if you’re arranging something important, like a high price or certain dates or times, you should make sure you understand each other. It can be useful to write things down for them.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB">If Cambodians are embarrassed they will often smile or laugh, this doesn’t mean that they’re making fun of you.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB">Don't touch people’s heads or point your feet at anyone, especially people that are older than you. Touching people on the head is a common sign of affection in many western cultures, but in Cambodia this is a holy part of the body. (But if you know the person well, they probably won't be offended.)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB">Always take your shoes off when you enter somebody's home or a temple. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB">It is not considered as rude to ask people about age, income, if you're married or not, if you have kids... So be prepared! :)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB">There are many monks in orange clothing in the streets. It's considered rude to take photos of them without asking (as it is with other people too). They will often be happy to take a photo with you, but especially women should not put an arm around them in a friendly way, monks shouldn't have any physical contact with the opposite gender.<o:p></o:p></span></div>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-74717118500876584972011-06-16T06:56:00.000-07:002011-06-16T09:23:41.757-07:00June<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got sick not so long ago, and I was of course sure that it was something serious. After my fever passed 40 degrees, I went to the doctor. I took off my shirt, and she looked at me and listened to me and pinched me a little. I was lying there nervous for what she would say. Was it dengue fever? Malaria? Something even worse? “I think you have chicken pox!” she said. “Excuse me?” I asked, trying to sound cool and collected (which isn’t easy when you’re lying on a hospital bed in your bra). I explained to her that I was 100 % sure I had it when I was a child, so she just gave me some paracetamol. That evening I got itchy red spots all over my upper body, and I called my mother for a serious chat. She could inform me that I probably never had them when I was little.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What kind of freak child doesn’t get chicken pox! Did I not socialize with the others? I have distinct memories from kindergarten, that I’m sitting surrounded by friends and drinking mud water from a puddle to impress them. That sounds a bit sad now that we’re grown up, but it felt great then, they all thought I was cool. Maybe they were imaginary? That definitely sounds sad. I know I had a boyfriend there, but we rarely got very close (he had cooties after all). After a few days, the red spots disappeared without having had any of the characteristics of chicken pox, so it probably wasn’t that after all. My friends now call the incident my “dengue pox”, which totally isn’t funny. I didn't exaggerate, it could have been super serious!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm sure glad I'm not in kindergarten anymore, where I had to drink from puddles to get friends. The friends I have now just make me eat crickets and silk worms in stead.</span></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVR8jRuHqOXKcBFAwJQH1hSIAKHiK6XChJnjv6IfyZ0CipSzY5AbW9PTn4tlIe2e2t4gZ3V3e0fcvbx9RsfRQhC7t1mEbKs71vqmzbLsL237Mz-XLHvEIEkM6QO7TiZysJv7N4a2xro_9S/s1600/Insekter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVR8jRuHqOXKcBFAwJQH1hSIAKHiK6XChJnjv6IfyZ0CipSzY5AbW9PTn4tlIe2e2t4gZ3V3e0fcvbx9RsfRQhC7t1mEbKs71vqmzbLsL237Mz-XLHvEIEkM6QO7TiZysJv7N4a2xro_9S/s640/Insekter.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fried insects! Disgusting! But surprisingly fun as well, when you're in a dodgy beer garden with friends.</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">An interesting fact about the word </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">cooties</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, is that it’s probably derived from the Malay word </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">kutu</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, which is a parasitic, biting insect. Creative! In Norwegian the kids just call it </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">jentelus</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">guttelus</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, girl lice and boy lice. So now you know how to impress the opposite gender in Norwegian, you’re welcome.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">T</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he rainy season has come to Phnom Penh, and the bad weather comes in quickly. This was my view yesterday:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvjdPkPbvX9vnC19hnOAFHgQhV-Tp-_as3C2r86fzsv4kVw1mxyNQQrXhwyTSSJcjMQvsrCzC_PhljD3Mn0IvEjJKg60ZO-gchJ9bvNJ7gyT5alLjh95RqFh9UdqMjakv_nSMuzFaMKWC/s1600/Himmel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvjdPkPbvX9vnC19hnOAFHgQhV-Tp-_as3C2r86fzsv4kVw1mxyNQQrXhwyTSSJcjMQvsrCzC_PhljD3Mn0IvEjJKg60ZO-gchJ9bvNJ7gyT5alLjh95RqFh9UdqMjakv_nSMuzFaMKWC/s640/Himmel.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Run for cover! Watch out for the lightning! Not that street, it's flooded! Yes, that one too!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A while back I went back to Boeung Chhouk to visit SCAO. It was strange returning there from my modern apartment in Phnom Penh.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjagr2ey60jJyzaQaY6FvHq6C4fNAmmu-5_90AOnz8zT0bPGLsnHUWQhFUM5RR05VhfA7d5IvNqywS-RYYkXJ5DIL0pPTAz9KGAKMs2IC8BO_Vtf9USj9mafbNKY5AtiEepRh-ng-jQOMZI/s1600/Kl%25C3%25A6r.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjagr2ey60jJyzaQaY6FvHq6C4fNAmmu-5_90AOnz8zT0bPGLsnHUWQhFUM5RR05VhfA7d5IvNqywS-RYYkXJ5DIL0pPTAz9KGAKMs2IC8BO_Vtf9USj9mafbNKY5AtiEepRh-ng-jQOMZI/s640/Kl%25C3%25A6r.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The clothes come in all colours, just like the people.</span></div></div><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvMmT0LA0lt6seDgWDLVlqVRKM3RcNAf1HVTg87jD8Y-n6uohvbzGKj8hRs78_Xod7Vu0w3GJVXFenC9FL6R8wAK7enEJtyPF8dMsSJwgWaGYm5XpQYQ-fQ_4mrX38Lxzao85CQrkgRlb/s1600/Rom.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvMmT0LA0lt6seDgWDLVlqVRKM3RcNAf1HVTg87jD8Y-n6uohvbzGKj8hRs78_Xod7Vu0w3GJVXFenC9FL6R8wAK7enEJtyPF8dMsSJwgWaGYm5XpQYQ-fQ_4mrX38Lxzao85CQrkgRlb/s640/Rom.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was the room I stayed in</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was nice falling asleep to the sound of the women speaking together in low voices, it made </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">me feel safe and far away from home at the same time. In the morning we would wake up to the rooster and the cheerful sound of children’s feet on the wooden floor. My first meeting with this country.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the border conflict between Cambodia and Thailand flared up, the women listened to the radio the whole night. (It struck me that my grandmother probably did this too, when the Nazis occupied Norway during World War 2.) Tens of thousands of people from both countries fled from the villages along the border during the fighting, but started returning after the tension had eased in May. The most important place they’re fighting over, is the Hindu temple Preah Vihear. It is on Cambodian territory, but Thailand believes it should belong to them.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, where did the time go? When my schedule got tighter at work, the time to blog simply disappeared. But the good news is that the Let’s do it-project was very successful! I’ve had several workshops with Cambodian university students, and it had been a lot of fun! My topic was “Environmental challenges in Cambodia”, and the students were very active in discussing the different problems. April 23rd</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> we had our big clean up day, and 2400 volunteers gathered in a joint effort to clean the streets of Phnom Penh. Very inspiring! Here is a photo of my group, we were in Tuol kork:</span><br />
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</span></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhajy2jSrFc6-BPC0AvXzttZfBL4Iomks-kzB2e-4ZYNmmIT__Bv-l4qn8sUIaavxlp2Krbok5oaZ-WWFzq-B9xFIoZ07tHeN8Ku3tDZIjiFTcap3NfmzdPsPz75Ur85wbNjKbTleg_W91R/s1600/254425_1797947395132_1433160386_31765859_2638452_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhajy2jSrFc6-BPC0AvXzttZfBL4Iomks-kzB2e-4ZYNmmIT__Bv-l4qn8sUIaavxlp2Krbok5oaZ-WWFzq-B9xFIoZ07tHeN8Ku3tDZIjiFTcap3NfmzdPsPz75Ur85wbNjKbTleg_W91R/s400/254425_1797947395132_1433160386_31765859_2638452_n.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Section D, baby! I was very impressed with the commitment and the enthusiasm the volunteers showed, and they came in all ages and with all backgrounds. We had a lot of coverage in the media, even Xinhua in China wrote about us. The project also had it's own </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3SKU5h3ZDuI"><span style="color: #0022e4;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">song</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.</span></span></div></div></span></span></div></div>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-38276206196013275302011-03-03T23:43:00.000-08:002011-03-04T00:15:08.296-08:00Essential Khmer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I’m getting Khmer lessons from a very nice teacher called Vibol. It’s such an interesting and fun language! I was first relieved that it didn’t have tones, like so many other Asian languages (for instance Chinese, Vietnamese, Thai…), but now I don’t know if it’s an advantage. When there are tones you can study them and learn them! But here there are no specific tones, just a distinct melody, and Vibol want’s me to learn it. Right now he thinks that I’m singing the phrases in stead for saying them, and that I’m not a very good singer. Right. He also taught me some important distinctions between common words and bad words that sound similar. For instance:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Som kafé kdao moi – I would like a cup of coffee, please<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Som kafé kdo moi – I would like a cup of coffee with penis, please<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Jui knom pong! – Help me!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Joi knom pong! – Have sex with me!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Double meaning: Sejt sra – fresh meat / prostitute<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Funny stuff. I remember talking to a deaf Norwegian girl about the ambiguities of sign language. She said that for just about every common word in sign language, there is a really dirty one that is similar! I think that’s hilarious, they must have a lot of fun. (Come to think of it, how do deaf Cambodians ever get anything done? Except for making small Cambodians. And drinking penis coffee.) It’s so nice to study a language again, I definitely remember the excitement of starting to learn Chinese. Everything is new and you make a fool out of yourself every time you try to pronounce the difficult sounds.</span><br />
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</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">There's a café on the floor beneath my workplace, so I often come here for a coffee and a break. One of the waiters there always smiles when he sees me and says: "Good evening, Sir!" no matter what time it is. I like reading the newspapers, like The Cambodia Daily (with the motto "All the News Without Fear or Favor") or <a href="http://www.phnompenhpost.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">The Phnom Penh Post</span></a>. Sad and upsetting stories, as so often in newspapers. But they give these little glimpses of people's lives and destinies that are fascinating sometimes. Here are a few, some of them shortened down:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Body pulled out of Stung Treng pond:</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"> A fisherman found a woman dead in a pond in Stung Treng city on Friday. Police concluded that no crime had taken place and that she had died of drowning. Her brother said that she suffered from a mental illness and she frequently wandered out of their home, to the point where he often kept her confined in a room. She had been missing for two days when her body was discovered.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Snake smugglers snared but slither away: </span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">22 kilograms of wild snakes were confiscated by the police in Battambang city on Friday. Police said the snakes were packaged in a box labeled “oranges” that was to be sent to Phnom Penh by bus. Yet when the bus driver was loading the box, he felt something moving inside and filed a complaint to the police. Police discovered the wild snakes and freed them into the jungle, but did not arrest the suspects.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Three charged after raid on brothel: </span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">The guesthouse owner was arrested along with 11 male sex workers. The owner was charged with the illegal operation of a business, by providing sexual services to gays and old women in Phnom Penh. The deputy prosecutor adds that all 11 sex workers were being sent for education at the youth rehabilitation centre in the Ministry of Social Affairs, Veterans ans Youth Rehabilitation in Phnom Penh. The director of the municipal Anti-Human Trafficking and Juvenile Protection Office in the Ministry of Interior says: “This is the first time we have found and cracked down on the illegal operation of sexual service providers for gays and old women in Phnom Penh.”<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Drunk attempts rape of girl:</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"> A 28-year-old man was arrested after he attempted to rape an underage girl in Banteay Meanchey’s Thmar Pouk district on Friday. Police said that the suspect is a friend of the victim’s brother, and the two went to drink together. The suspect asked to sleep at the home of the victim because he was afraid to face his mother while drunk. He then attempted to rape the victim but she shouted for help, and her brother delivered the suspect to police.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">River crash claims three lives:</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"> Three family members died during a boat crash on the Mekong River in Kandal province Saturday night. The deceased included a father, mother and their 4-year-old daughter. The family’s 6-year-old son survived the crash. After two days, a neighbor found the boy on the river bank and noticed many pieces of a wooden boat floating on the water. The boy told the police that another boat had crashed into his family’s boat while they were fishing.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Such important stories for the people involved, and for me they're a few lines I'm reading while drinking my coffee. Makes you wonder about their lives. In the international section in Cambodia daily the following headline can be found:</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Pope Benedict Finds Jews Not to Blame for Death of Jesus</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Well that's always good news.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I was looking through my photos the other day, and found this one, from a trip I went on with some other people this September:</span></div></span></div></span></div><div style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; text-align: left;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2srEwwl67VvODrWZNuqiY-SMdjM86ewiqVDnhthzhf9Puki1IBPqTe8aevCISr82IfgK9D9hs8vMmYW5FayMXjMBGQ3K-g3avQTS7IptfcyyViy6XwnPGNIGUj44TSjseBspMGJwo0W5_/s1600/61686_1418190782804_1473673235_970824_7173778_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2srEwwl67VvODrWZNuqiY-SMdjM86ewiqVDnhthzhf9Puki1IBPqTe8aevCISr82IfgK9D9hs8vMmYW5FayMXjMBGQ3K-g3avQTS7IptfcyyViy6XwnPGNIGUj44TSjseBspMGJwo0W5_/s640/61686_1418190782804_1473673235_970824_7173778_n.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">We're descending from Gaustatoppen in Norway, and we're pretty much as far away from my current landscape as I could possibly come. I'm the gracious one in the middle there, trying to get down without slipping and breaking my butt.</span></div></span></span></div></div>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-14534768429206480122011-02-21T21:47:00.000-08:002011-06-26T10:20:39.731-07:00Traffic and travelling<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The other day I sat on the back of a motorcycle for the first time. I knew I </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">had to do it at some point, but I wasn`t prepared for it. Ingrid and I were with two nice Cambodians, and they asked if we wanted to join them at a café. Sure I said, but then they rolled out their bikes. I was unable to hide my nervousness, and they asked if I was sure I wanted to come. They all looked at me, and I felt like I was almost going to cry. That would probably have been a huge loss of face in Cambodian culture! Luckily, white people have no pride. (Except for the White Pride people, and we certainly don’t like them.)</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I held on very tight to Alex, the guy who was driving. I tried not to cut of his oxygen supply completely though, that can’t be safe. When I sat there, I wondered if there really is a Buddha. Would my karma be good enough to survive Cambodian traffic? A monk passed us on the street, and it struck me that I really should get a monk driver. His karma must be super! But they’re not supposed to earn money, and my karma would probably get really bad if I corrupt monks with US dollars for my own safety concerns. So how could I get a monk to drive me around without paying him? Maybe pay him in English lessons? Give him a Norwegian cooking course? (I’d have to take one first, then.) Or I could make a monk my best friend! How do you befriend a monk? Possible ways must be:</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Be a nice person. </span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Check! I’m nice, at least when I’m not hot and dehydrated and sunburnt.</span></span><br />
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</span></b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Shave my head.</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> I can’t do that, I’ll look stupid or diseased or both.</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Wear a lot of orange.</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> No. I wore a lot of yellow when I was about twelve. I’ve seen photos, and I should stay away from this end of the colour scale.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Know a lot about Buddhism.</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> I have read and loved “Siddartha” by Herman Hesse and “The Dharma Bums” by Jack Kerouac. This should count for something?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUhyphenhyphenTiDrI_KD2eva-DcvbDXKTQfqELBpKZELS3Q0AO70pJfO9OnYgocFGOAESfGa-QmTSxi7s4VwOxHA7Un1iXlmQVEGFyPQENqCyIct1idehkFxCsWs_Sz0QY3JiL6ybLZyJBTAcusjl5/s1600/4.1292860533.maddie-and-her-monk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUhyphenhyphenTiDrI_KD2eva-DcvbDXKTQfqELBpKZELS3Q0AO70pJfO9OnYgocFGOAESfGa-QmTSxi7s4VwOxHA7Un1iXlmQVEGFyPQENqCyIct1idehkFxCsWs_Sz0QY3JiL6ybLZyJBTAcusjl5/s320/4.1292860533.maddie-and-her-monk.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, this random girl on google images have made it. What does she have that I don't?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Photos from site <a href="http://sitebtemple.ning.com/">1</a>, <a href="http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/hamiltonfamily/4/1292860533/tpod.html">2</a> and <a href="http://www.yetanotherreviewsite.co.uk/cursed-mountain-a-survival-horor-news~1362.htm">3</a>.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-indent: -24px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was nervous on the bike, but it went fine. Afterwards I wanted Ingrid to agree with me in the fact that Phnom Penh traffic is scary and unpredictable. She just sipped her Mai Tai and was annoyingly calm, but then what happened? On the street right in front of us, an elephant comes walking around the corner, between all the cars and motorcycles! A real, live one! I don’t know if my insurance covers sudden meetings with elephants in traffic. It was wearing a beer commercial, which is just wrong on several levels, but that didn’t make it any less absurd.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got another e-mail from my mother, telling me that they have taken the vaccines they need to come and visit me in april. She also informed me that my stepfather and little sister are ”very worried about THE MOSQUITO ISSUE” with capital letters. I guess these nerves run in the family? We’re not hypochondriacs, the world is just a scary place filled with germs! </span><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The crisis of the week is that I seemed to have developed an allergy against my mosquito repellant, I turn pink when I put it on. As if I wasn’t pink enough already. I will try to put on less, I might have overdone it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was at the bookstore the other day, and I picked up “Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance” by Robert Pirsig. Someone had mentioned it to me, and I thought it was an interesting title. Already on page 2, I started liking it very much. He talks about his son:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At age eleven you don’t get very impressed with red-winged blackbirds. You have to get older for that. For me this is all mixed with memories that he doesn’t have. Cold mornings long ago when the marsh grass had turned brown and cattails were waving in the northwest wind. … Or winters when the sloughs were frozen over and dead and I could walk across the ice and snow between the dead cattails and see nothing but grey skies and dead things and cold.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went to Koh Rong this weekend, a beautiful Island by Sihanoukville. Here are some photos:</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFYTLweF_4LbmxfQ0sCSQ_bbbN8zYEquPU-1kCxgylgPeoetBA7FoBXtDBWm-TRugJpUaOVNYz1uSF9YrkvcqYkpPb0Rx2vlF9oYo1vEDADLoERr882LYAKw2w8toXrysbLeT1ZFqUouF/s1600/trehus.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFYTLweF_4LbmxfQ0sCSQ_bbbN8zYEquPU-1kCxgylgPeoetBA7FoBXtDBWm-TRugJpUaOVNYz1uSF9YrkvcqYkpPb0Rx2vlF9oYo1vEDADLoERr882LYAKw2w8toXrysbLeT1ZFqUouF/s640/trehus.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Treehouse bungalows on the beach </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4HKI8vQWTeQIHwokQ1dIRd5gdVljUD5nIjcAwxq7shDkBifnr-PbRpgt4ur1ErSFss_8XSwJhB3e7UiKuqdUJYXVrrX8GrpSSSH_hdf2S5nvu-zzZ5Aq47sD4JAr0AungCjA9jNr5hkBe/s1600/tre.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4HKI8vQWTeQIHwokQ1dIRd5gdVljUD5nIjcAwxq7shDkBifnr-PbRpgt4ur1ErSFss_8XSwJhB3e7UiKuqdUJYXVrrX8GrpSSSH_hdf2S5nvu-zzZ5Aq47sD4JAr0AungCjA9jNr5hkBe/s640/tre.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nice looking beach</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYCHvQZPgG6SnpekRkw1ubGWS4Pp4a004nq_MXbeFudZK8vtKWOSM_L-gmvIP82aaPfJeNXJT1ncvoza7VWGL5fxjuLM4yGBp9akLthY1rbDKXSQuFDKBpFWuh2-o2xl7n6VwOwZwY5VE/s1600/hammock.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYCHvQZPgG6SnpekRkw1ubGWS4Pp4a004nq_MXbeFudZK8vtKWOSM_L-gmvIP82aaPfJeNXJT1ncvoza7VWGL5fxjuLM4yGBp9akLthY1rbDKXSQuFDKBpFWuh2-o2xl7n6VwOwZwY5VE/s640/hammock.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The goose and the rooster kept hogging the hammocks, pretty rude. I find that you should always have low expectations to poultry, that way you wont be disappointed. </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0V7VDFWEhMnehUvQnY8dc560wITRfcDWwHAP3nlkh2TE6hyphenhyphenVrr2t3MatBeS7UH6Mr7O1QqnGca1j-NiQnPHEC945eIc9be4dkPyWFy_1VuElanBQD0Sss47hUvSWztUezKxCpuXU3RfOP/s1600/paradiseutsikt.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0V7VDFWEhMnehUvQnY8dc560wITRfcDWwHAP3nlkh2TE6hyphenhyphenVrr2t3MatBeS7UH6Mr7O1QqnGca1j-NiQnPHEC945eIc9be4dkPyWFy_1VuElanBQD0Sss47hUvSWztUezKxCpuXU3RfOP/s640/paradiseutsikt.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The view from Paradise Café</span></o:p></span><br />
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</o:p></span></div>The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-12056505253779592812011-02-17T03:38:00.000-08:002011-02-17T03:56:05.331-08:00The great escapeA few days ago I had a few too many spring rolls for dinner, and then sat on the 2nd floor of a hotel writing an e-mail. All of a sudden a bat comes flying in the window. "Can't bats have rabies?" I had time to wonder, before it headed straight towards me. I jumped out of my chair and ran for my life. What should I do, what should I do, I asked myself while running around in circles with the bat after me. Sometimes it would go away the other side of the room, giving me time to catch my breath and look for escape routes, before it started chasing me again. (It must have looked funny for someone just coming up the stairs.) In retrospect, I see that I might have scared it as well, making it fly around even more. Girl imitating bat or bat imitating girl, what would Oscar Wilde have said? A scary and exhausting experience. I probably burnt off the spring rolls, though.<br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Ingrid and I held a workshop last Saturday at the <a href="http://youthtobusinessforum.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Youth to Business Forum</span></a> in Phnom Penh. Our theme was education, and we talked about our experiences going abroad. There were several interesting workshops there, and we had 11 students coming to ours. I was impressed by the students' English level, and they were very nice to talk to and have discussions with! I was a bit nervous about holding it, but it was a good experience.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I will try to write a new blog post once a week (Thursday, I suppose), so that those of you who want to can get the news of my stay here. So what's new. I got another e-mail from my mother, saying that the skiing trip was successful: "After the first 30 minutes, which were rough, your little sister also enjoyed the trip." Nice!</div><br />
Also, I'm no longer working for SCAO. They are a great organization, but I could only work a couple of hours per day there, so now I will live in Phnom Penh and work full time on a project called <a href="http://www.letsdoitworld.org/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Let's do it</span></a>. We will spread awareness about waste disposal and the benefits of clean surroundings to the Cambodians. I was surprised at SCAO, when I asked where I should put a trash bag. They just brought it to the lawn by the house:<br />
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They said that a group of kids came about once a week to pick out some plastic and metal to sell, and then they burnt the rest. This creates smoke with a lot of dioxin in it, which is dangerous to your health if you're exposed to too much of it. It's a very interesting topic to learn more about, you can read a good article about people making a living out of selling trash <a href="http://www.talesofasia.com/cambodia-stungmeanchey.htm"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">here</span></a>.The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5968472112144269043.post-83397514247333706832011-02-07T11:56:00.000-08:002013-01-18T15:40:42.981-08:00The first days<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">So! I am here in Cambodia as a part of the exchange project Open Your Eyes, a cooperation between the international organisation </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"><a href="http://www.aiesec.org/"><span style="color: #0022e4;">AIESEC</span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"> and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"><a href="http://www.fredskorpset.no/en/"><span style="color: #0022e4;">Fredskorpset</span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">, which is a governmental body under the Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Affairs (financed over Norway's state budget). The NGO I’ll be working for here is called </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"><a href="http://www.savechildreninasia.org/"><span style="color: #0022e4;">SCAO</span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">, and it's located in the village </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">Boeng Chhouk, 15 minutes north of</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"> Phnom Penh.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">When I left Norway a couple of days ago, it was snowing in my hometown Oslo. Before leaving I took a few quick photos in my neighbourhood with my cell phone, just to have a memory of the norwegian winter in the warm and humid cambodian climate:</span><br />
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Frogner</div>
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The Oslo Fjord</div>
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Oscars gate</div>
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Vestre Gravlund</div>
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My street in Oslo</div>
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My new alarm clock</div>
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This is where I work </div>
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This is where I live </div>
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My sweet boss Samith </div>
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My cambodian colleague Sreylat and Norwegian colleague Ingrid</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I received an e-mail from my mother today, saying that they were going </span>cross country skiing. "We will trick/force your little sister to come with us", she says. Ah, the beauty of coerced winter sports. Pretty absurd to think about them in the snow, when I'm sitting here sweating in at least 30 degrees hot weather. There's no shower here, but a nice little bucket I can use to pour water over me. The animals I can hear right now around me are crickets, dogs barking, ducks quacking, a bird twirping and a gekko...gekkoing. Exotic! I wonder if there are snakes out there.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">In our room, there is a shabby looking cat who refuses to leave. I've never been so good with cats. My family has a dog, and I think cats can be unpredictable and hard to understand. I tried to give the cat a special look, as if to say: Hello cat. I have not had my rabies vaccine. Please respect that. But the look can not have worked (it's probably different in Khmer), it spends all its time right under my bed, and sometimes jumps up on my pillow. I am of course just as surprised every time.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I of course thought about my luggage, and the possibility that I might not get it at Phnom Penh airport. And what if no one was there to meet me? What was I carrying with me that could help me survive in Cambodia on my own? I had enough clothes from Norway, that’s for sure. It would have been useful to have my guide book to Cambodia, if I hadn’t conveniently forgotten it on my desk at home. I also got a nice book for Christmas about Cambodian culture and customs, but I ended up trading it in for a high tech mosquito net. Both because I was going to bring (but didn’t bring) the guidebook which had a lot of the same content, and because it’s heavy to bring a lot of books, and because I will admit that I’m nervous about Cambodian mosquitos.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I mean, what’s the use of being an expert in Cambodian traditions if you’re lying there itching all over, with a second round of dengue fever and a hint of malaria? You will regret it. So I had a mosquito net, a pocket with Norwegian money, my iPod, a medical book where you can look up different illnesses, some grenola and a book by Pierre Bordieu<i>, </i></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><i>Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste</i>. (A very</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">intellectual gift given to me before I left.) I’m not sure how far this would get me in Cambodia. I would most likely panic, wrap myself in the net, eat grenola and look up diseases in the book.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Yesterday my grenola was attacked by an army of tiny small ants, I thought that was very rude and unnecessary. (They fortunately didn't touch </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><i>A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste.</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">) The Cambodians, on the other hand, are incredibly sweet people! Always smiling and laughing and being helpful and understanding. I think I will enjoy my stay here in the Khmer Kingdom very much.</span></span></div>
The Norwegianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11241887773000448248noreply@blogger.com3