have only seen a handful of buildings that would pass building inspections in the U.S. and the rest are hollowed out, dirty, segmented versions of city construction. The reasons for this can only be understood with some learning about what the Khmer Rouge regime and war did to this once-prosperous nation, and I will try to go into that in a later posting, but for now you will just have to take my word for it. I can't even imagine an American trillionaire willing to redevelop this city if it was handed to him. I would think it would sooner be completely leveled and start from scratch. Additionally, many of the inhabitants of Phnom Penh live in homemade shacks, tents, and market stalls that line all the streets, so it is an added level of poverty and density.
So, today we got our first real immersion into this city with a meeting at the Vulnerable Children Assistance Organization (VCAO) and then the city dump community. The VCAO is one of the local NGOs that works with trafficking and abuse survivors to not only provide them with the care they need, but to provide them with real options for the future. They provide assistance, education, and advocacy, which includes housing and care, education, and job training. The program requires that after six months of vocational training (for example in sewing), the participants must start a business of their own. They may take out a no-interest loan from VCAO to get them started. It's exciting to see such sustainable after-care programs for victims, as it seems that so many NGOs in the U.S. just want to throw money at victims to help them in the present, without investing the time and energy required to truly change their future. The participants at the VCAO are aged 10-18, with the average age of 13. Just children. The center runs completely on private donations, with a mere $2,000 per month providing for 30-40 children. Unfortunately, the center is currently operating at 400% capacity, as they have lately seen a surge in the mail-order-bride problem. It is becoming increasingly popular for foreign men to hire “marriage brokers” to buy them a wife from a poor nation such as Cambodia. The girls are often sold as children to be married, and then are either abused by their husbands, sold by them to other men, or find out that there is no husband and they are trafficked into brothels. The center also recently had a few children come to them who had been held as slave laborers on fishing boats for the last two years. They escaped when they saw and island in the distance and swam to safety. I asked VCAO's Executive Director, Chea Pyden, what the biggest need for them currently is and his answer surprised me. He said they need more training for their counselors and social workers. I'm excited that I may actually be able to help one day.
After the VCAO we went to a school that they run in the city dump. That's right, IN THE DUMP. There is an entire community of families who live right in the trash. They survive by sifting through garbage and muck all day everyday, and selling anything reusable they find. They have set up tarps as tents and that is where they call home. So do their children. We got to the school just in time to walk the kids back to their homes. Many of the kids were barefoot, walking through garbage that I hesitated to step on with my shoes. They also had more than their fair share of open wounds and infections. And yet they happily led us from their one-room schoolhouse, through the trash piles, to their own tents in the dump. And then the stench hit me. It was like nothing have ever smelled before. It took every ounce of my will not to gag in front of them. We were given surgical masks before arriving to help us with the smell, but I didn't want to offend or alienate these people any more than I had to. I already feel torn about “touring” their lives as if they were some attraction or freak show. I keep telling myself that it is for a good purpose, but it still feels demeaning. The people that I've met don't seem to mind. They are completely gracious, if not
somewhat guarded. I can't say that I blame them. Especially since our guide told us that rape and assault is a huge problem there, since local men know that they can enter the dump community and do what they wish with no threat of legal repercussions. In any case, our time in the dump community was haunting. Later that night, when we were sitting in our luxurious hotel rooms, Alessandro reminded me that right now, those kids that we had held hands with and walked home from school with were sleeping in the rotting stinking garbage that we happily fled from earlier. And they will continue to, day in and day out, unless they are able to make the most of the education that the VCAO program is providing and dare to dream of more. I just don't know if they even know what else to dream of. And if they did, what would that do to them now?
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