Are expats in Phnom Penh willfully segregating themselves from the locals? That’s the thesis of French journalist Frédéric Amat in his new “Expatriates Strange Lives in Cambodia,” a critique of the life-styles and attitudes of Cambodia’s many foreign residents.

From the Phnom Penh Post’s interview with Mr Amat: “They [expatriates] don’t really open the window to Cambodia. They don’t try to speak the language. They are not interested in the culture. When they finish their job, they just go to the foreign bars, have beers with friends. They live in Cambodia, but they don’t really live with Cambodians.”

The new book quickly stirred up a storm of Internet indignation and soul-searching among Cambodia’s expats (and some locals, too). Not that this should surprise anyone. Most expats in Cambodia notice pretty quickly that the social scene in Phnom Penh is strikingly divided, with local Khmer and barang living largely parallel lives.

I definitely noticed the parallel universe thing quickly when I moved to Phnom Penh. For many Western expats, relationships with locals don’t extend much beyond work, shopping, restaurant wait-staff and perhaps work-related social events. Expats rarely just went and grabbed a beer with locals, and the reverse was true.

A Western expat might have a nice relationship with that Cambodian guy or girl he or she sees everyday at the office, but the two are pretty unlikely to run into each other in the Java Cafe morning latte line, or at the neighborhood Cambodian beer-and- roasted cow joint.

Locals are usually in rather short supply at expat parties, popular expat restaurants, and at bars that are commonly frequented by foreigners (with the exception of hostess bars that have a certain intrinsic reliance on local labor).

Hell, the fact I even feel the need to add the qualifier “expat” to a list of public locations indicates that something is amiss.

Why is this? Are foreigners in Cambodia inherently neo-colonialist jerks, re-enacting the bad old days of total French domination, forced labor without pay, and the wanton consumption of gin n’ tonics? Do we secretly wish we could still run around Phnom Penh in the back of a hand-pulled rickshaw while wearing a pith helmet? (Some middle-aged tourists apparently never got the memo on that one.)

As with most things, the truth about social segregation between foreigners and locals in Cambodia is a lot more complicated then that.

It’s worth pointing out here that most expats who move to Cambodia aren’t stereotypical, unenlightened racist pigs. Aside from the ever-popular sexpat crowd, most permanent foreign residents of Cambodia are educated, intelligent, and exceptionally open to new experiences.

Think about it: It’s a hell of a lot easier to be an abhorrent racist from the comfort of your own pleasingly air-conditioned and clean Sydney/Indianapolis/Birmingham flat, than it is to willfully choose to live in a rented closet-sized Phnom Penh apartment with a persistent giant spider problem. So, we’re not looking at a demographic group that has serious intrinsic problems with cultural differences.

Than why is there this obvious, striking divide between foreigners and locals in Phnom Penh?

Probably because it really isn’t that easy to make local friends in Cambodia for various reasons, which we’ll get to later. And once an expatriate new in town finds a comfortable group of foreign friends who speak her language, understand her culture, and can totally sympathize with those never-ending gastrointestinal problems, putting forth the effort required to make local friends becomes a much less attractive prospect.

Take me. I felt (and feel) guilty as hell about my lack of local friends. I wanted to have local friends. I just couldn’t seem to translate intention into action, and once I had a healthy group of foreign acquaintances, it became that much harder to step outside my bubble and put forth a concentrated effort to overcome all those cultural and language barriers. (I think I did do the right thing by learning some Khmer, but I’ll get to that.)

I felt especially bad about my lack of local friends because I’d had a totally different experience while staying in India. When I was interning in Bangalore, almost all my friends were Indian, my co-workers were (mostly) Indian, and I had no clue where expatriates hung out – nor did I feel a pressing desire to find out where. I was deeply suspicious of expats and tourists who refused to associate with anyone who wasn’t a Westerner.

Then, I moved to Cambodia.

I don’t think of myself as a racist – I know, famous last words – but I also have very few Cambodian friends, despite 15 months living in Phnom Penh, my work directly with Cambodians as a reporter, and my attempts to learn some of the Khmer language. This could be because I’m a douchebag, and God knows I won’t attempt to deny that — but it’s also true that a lot of my fellow Western expats, if not most of them, were in the same boat.

So whose fault is it? I think blame can be laid on both Western and Cambodian attitudes.

Many expats in Cambodia don’t work too hard at cultivating Khmer friends, especially because it isn’t easy to do. Now that that’s been established, it’s hard to discount that long-running and deeply held cultural and social differences between expats and Cambodians have something to do with the divide, too.

Traditional Theravada Buddhist teachings taught most Cambodians that higher education and persistent curiosity about the outside world weren’t much good – and the draconian anti-intellectual policies of the Khmer Rouge in recent history only reinforced this concept. Couple that with a culture that tends to value reticent, secretive public behavior – again, reinforced by the paranoiac Khmer Rouge – and you’ve got a recipe for parallel lives.

I suspect these cultural attitudes could also explain why most Cambodians don’t go out of their way to make foreign friends. When I was in India and China, having foreign friends was considered something of a status symbol among locals who had any command of the English language. You’d get stopped on the street by locals eager to practice their English and to find out more about you.

Although this eager solicitation of foreign friendship could get rather annoying at times – I started power-walking rather angrily through Beijing because of this, in fact – I realize now that it was a pretty easy and low-stress way to meet and interact with locals, that didn’t require me to put forth a ton of effort.

There is a real language barrier between foreigners and Cambodians, of course, but I don’t think this explains everything. Although Cambodians have pretty good English skills in general (especially when compared to locals in many other non-English speaking nations) you’ll be hard-pressed to find somebody who just wants to shoot the shit, as is commonplace in some other developing nations.

Maybe Cambodians just don’t want to approach foreigners to improve their knowledge – or, alternately, they think it’s plain rude to rock up to a barang and ask if he wants to get a coffee and talk about grammar, the latest Jennifer Lopez song, and the pros and cons of Barack Obama.

It’s also worth noting that huge economic disparities exist between foreigners and the vast majority of Cambodians. You may work at the same office and do the same job as your Cambodian counterpart, but it’s likely you’re making considerably more money than he or she is. Furthermore, most Cambodians have all sorts of complicated family financial obligations, whereas most foreigners in Cambodia don’t have children, aging relatives, an extended family, or an ailing water buffalo to support.

Family obligations, the expense of drinking, and social norms also mean that most Cambodians are disinclined to bar-hop until 3:00 AM on a regular basis – and I’m guessing that many of the Cambodians that do bar-hop until 3:00 AM on a regular basis would probably prefer to be hanging out with their Khmer friends.

Then, there’s the education thing. Most Cambodians haven’t had much access to education, and that’s in stark contrast to the foreign crowd, who are often highly highly educated (and would like you to know about it).

This does matter when it comes to conversational topics and cultural touchstones, even if we’d all like to pretend it doesn’t – after all, so much of conversation among the over-educated classes revolves around what-music-do-you-like and what-do-you-think-of-Syria-anyway and did-you-read-that-book-on-giant-squid. This is not anyone’s fault (other than Cambodia’s dismal education system), but it does create serious cultural and conversational roadblocks.

So what can a hapless foreigner looking to break out of the expat bubble to do?

I’m absolutely no role model, as I’m still trying to figure this one out myself. Also, I am writing this from a small town in Southern Iowa. Seriously.

Now that these caveats are out of the way, here’s some ideas.

- Every expat in Cambodia needs to learn some Khmer. No exceptions. I don’t care if you’re “really busy” or “bad at languages.” There are language tutors everywhere. They will charge you $5 an hour, they will likely come to your home, and they will probably provide with you all kinds of interesting insights into Khmer culture.

My Khmer is lousy, but just being able to hold a simple conversation with Russian Market Underwear Lady or That Guy Who Makes Keys On My Corner made my life in Cambodia that much more pleasant. Not to mention that Cambodians are almost always flattered that you’re trying to learn their language, are happy to help, and will only make fun of you a little bit.

And by the way – I’m just plain offended if your excuse is “Khmer is a small language, and this is a really small country, and I’m probably not going to be here long anyway so why bother?”

This is just a duplicitous way to say “This country and its language are crap. Why am I even here?”

Which begs the question, do Khmer people want to be friends with you?

- Read books on Cambodian stuff. You got a job in a foreign country, I’m assuming you’re capable of reading a book. Books on Cambodia happen to be really cheap and available everywhere – thank you, nonexistent copyright laws! – and reading as many of them as possible is a really good way to familiarize yourself with Cambodian culture.

Understanding Cambodian history – and that means stuff that didn’t happen during the Khmer Rouge era or in Angkor’s heyday – is another excellent way to contextualize day to day life in 2012 Phnom Penh.

A working knowledge of Theravada Buddhism will also go a long way towards helping you understand why Cambodians do some of the stuff they do. Also, you’re much less likely to look like a total blundering idiot next time you wander into a pagoda.

- Never turn down a Cambodian invitation. Get invited to a wedding/Khmer New Year party/family get-together/beer garden fest/Pchum Ben celebration? Awesome. Go. This does not happen everyday, you’ll almost certainly have a good time, and the Guinness at Paddy Rice will still be there tomorrow in case you were worried.

- Re-evaluate how you talk about and to “the natives.” If expats aren’t talking about nightmarish gastrointestinal problems, the latest Totally Shocking relationship drama, or big important world events (less common), they’re likely complaining about Cambodia and its denizens.

This is part of human nature in small doses, but “small doses” does not describe some of the virulent language I’ve heard from my fellow Western adventurers. Knock it off. I do not want to hear your trenchant observations on how lazy, stupid, and foolish Cambodians are. I bet that girl at the bar who speaks way better English than you realize isn’t getting a huge kick out of it, either.

And then, there’s the more subtle language of exclusion. Not talking about locals at all, as you sit in a Western-owned bar over a bacon cheeseburger and a Fosters, or dismissing most Cambodians as some sort of ineffable, inscrutable Oriental stereotype, is demeaning as well.

- Talk to locals, instead of talking down to them. It’s easy to assume that the locals around you are a bit dense because you have to simplify your language somewhat to talk with them. This is intellectually lazy as hell, of course, but it’s something a lot of people do. Don’t do that.

Talk to people. Strike up conversations at the market, at the grocery store, at the bar, or at a party. Ask questions about day to day life in Cambodia, ask about the kids, ask about the family farm, ask about music, whatever.

I know striking up conversations with strangers is really difficult to do in Cambodia, but it’s certainly worth trying.

This goes double for your coworkers. Make a real effort to befriend them and include them in whatever it is you’re doing. Even if they don’t or can’t accept your invitation, I imagine they appreciate being thought of.

That’s all I’ve got for now. I’d appreciate more suggestions. Maybe we can make a longer list.

That’s the Western side of the equation, but of course, there’s more. Ultimately, it falls to Cambodians to write about how Khmer people might do a better job of reaching out to the foreigners in their midst – or at least write about how better a smart Cambodian might tolerate the Western deluge.

What’s the single most important thing an expat in Cambodia can do? Stop thinking of Cambodian people as a mysterious, inscrutable other race, even if it’s difficult, even if it gives you a headache. Even if working really hard to befriend and understand local people kind of sucks, and you’d really rather be eating sushi at Rahu while complaining about your neighbors’ 2-day-long epic wedding.

It’s extremely difficult to understand or identify with or befriend people from a totally different culture from our own, who exist in a different cultural paradigm, who speak a different language. I get it.

But isn’t that understanding why we live in a foreign country in the first place?

The post How to Make Cambodian Friends and Influence People: Expats’ Parallel Lives in Phnom Penh appeared first on The Faster Times.

Cambodia is in the throes of another land-grab drama in the early days of 2012, after the Borei Keila slum development was suddenly razed on the morning of January 3rd. The wealthy Phan Imex development company had promised the slum’s residents 10 alternate apartment buildings to make up for their soon-to-be destroyed homes: instead, the company built only 8 facilities.

Many Borei Keila residents fought back against riot police, in a fray that lasted half a day and saw plentiful injures on both sides. But the villagers couldn’t hold out long: 300 families soon found themselves out on the streets.

The luckiest among them were eventually allowed to take plots of land in desolate and far-off relocation sites, with hygiene and safety standards worse than those found in many refugee camps. The unlucky are now homeless, roaming the streets of Phnom Penh and asking for help from anyone who will listen. Despite protests outside Western embassies, no international help is forthcoming for the abandoned of Borei Keila.

This is a photo essay about the Borei Keila site itself, which I managed to get into after my friend Alex, who lives near the site, texted me to tell me the police had finally moved away from the area. Cops barred my previous attempts to get into the site, after some heart-wrenching photographs were released to the public from the January 3rd violence.

“They tore down one building and they’re tearing down another,” he told me. My boyfriend and I immediately headed over to the site.

I scrambled around on rebar, tile, and brick, and took some photos of the collapsed apartment building. Many random possessions—bras, stuffed animals, clothing items—were strewn among the bricks. Some of these things probably belonged to the protesters I’ve spoken with outside the US Embassy.

This woman was trash-picking the wreckage of the apartment complex. I don’t know if she lived there or not.

It is at times difficult to avoid the Stuffed Animal Poignantly Sits Amid Wreckage photograph. In any case, it tells the story.

These kids live at Borei Keila and were interested in me and my camera. I’ve heard the apartment complexes they are standing in front of are slated for destruction in the near future. I hope they have somewhere to go.

This woman was hanging laundry outside her apartment. I think this complex will be taken down soon as well. As my boyfriend pointed out, the hanging trees make the complex look almost like an Angkor-era temple.

Change-agent. Friendly construction workers. Like they have a say in this one way or the other. Some of these guys probably live in very similar conditions.

As my boyfriend and I went through my photos, we stopped at this shot of kids playing outside the still-standing complex. “They were playing some game involving shooting each other,” I told him. “They were playing riot police against villagers,” he said. “Look at the cardboard shields.”

I’m almost certain he was right. These three kids, after all, saw one of Phnom Penh’s most violent housing riots in recent years on Tuesday. Cops armed with riot shields shot rubber bullets at residents armed with stones and Molotov cocktails. Many were injured on both sides. Why wouldn’t they decide to emulate the most terrifying – and exciting – event they’ve probably ever seen?

This kid was playing with a toy excavator extremely similar to the one taking down what may have been his former home. The irony was probably lost on him, but I doubt it was lost on the small group of hard-faced adults standing nearby.

The Borei Keila site is directly behind a bus station where there are always at least 30 foreign tourists having a drink and awaiting the next bus out. They probably have no idea what has happened to the former residents of Borei Keila. I like to hope they’ll pick up a local English paper at some point during their visit here and realize what was going on literally behind their backs.

A food vendor has set up shop outside Borei Keila, and a couple of families seem to have taken up residence on mats set up in this sandy corridor, in lieu of anywhere better to go. This man was selling eggs. He didn’t look very happy to see me.

I wish it was easier to explain sometimes why I’m taking pictures of other people’s pain.

The post A Cambodian Eviction: Land Grabs and Misery at Borei Keila appeared first on The Faster Times.

Right. Known for its unrest thirty-six years ago.

Thankfully, Jolie hired a couple of armed guards to protect them from the deadly cattle, low-income villagers, water buffalo and underpaid traffic police they will doubtless encounter on their perilous journey.

The Daily Mail apparently doesn’t know that the real dangers of the Cambodian countryside – lousy driving and food poisoning – aren’t preventable by heavily armed men with automatic weapons. (Shame, really.)

We also hope that poor little Maddox is not scarred for life by 1. seeing a guy carrying a gun and 2. going back to the humble village of his birth.

It’s stupid articles like this that force me to explain to people back home that the Khmer Rouge are no longer whisking people away in the night.

I am met with looks of baffled incredulity when I say that Phnom Penh is exponentially safer than New Orleans, and that I’d take a darkened Cambodian alley over its NOLA or Oakland equivalent any day.

In the eyes of a healthy majority of the Western population, Cambodia has apparently been stuck in time since the Khmer Rouge era, and a vacation there is just-about asking for enslavement in a work camp, a bullet to the head, or at least a solid roughing up by very angry men in black jammies.

Of course, this beats the Americans who ask me with great interest what it’s like living in Africa.

Also, let’s recall that Cambodia’s biggest news story of the year – the worst flooding in ten years, but then again, you probably haven’t heard about that - has been just about ignored by the mainstream media. But Angelina Jolie’s every movement in Cambodia? Stop the presses!

I don’t really have anything against Angelina, other than that the media outside Cambodia pays attention to her – and only her – whenever she conducts a charity trip here. Cambodia only serves as a conveniently dramatic background to whatever Ms Megacelebrity is doing at the time.

Perhaps Angie should contemplate carrying out a nice PR campaign for Cambodia alongside her other charitable work, so people in the West will stop running stupid stories like the Mail’s.

Taking out ads for Cambodia emphasizing how safe and nice it is and how you can buy all kinds of attractive and reasonably priced souvenirs would be a start.

Perhaps something like this:

The post Angelina on “Danger Trip” to Cambodia: Maybe Cambodia Needs a New PR Campaign appeared first on The Faster Times.

Khieu Samphan Extraordinary Chambers of the Court of Cambodia

The third day of the opening salvo of the Khmer Rouge War Tribunal in Cambodia saw Khieu Samphan, former Khmer Rouge head of state and leader of the state presidium, tell the court with great vehemence that he was not guilty for the war-crimes—that allegedly caused the deaths of 2.2 million—that the co-prosecution had heaped him with Monday and Tuesday. A full account of yesterday’s proceedings may be read here.

Samphan’s denial of culpability appears to be following in the dubious foot-steps of his co-defendants, former “Brother Number Two” Nuon Chea and former foreign foreign minister Ieng Sary, who have both passionately denied any culpability in the events of 35 years ago. Although Ieng Sary’s ill health and unwillingness to testify before the court prevented him from reading more than a paragraph of his own statement of innocence, Nuon Chea’s Tuesday rant against his supposed enemies bore considerable resemblance to Samphan’s Wednesday performance.

Samphan, animated and reading from a written statement, complained “Why should I be prosecuted 30 years later, relying on newspapers, anonymous witnesses, and books written by journalists?”, referring to the prosecutions reliance on unnamed witnesses and books in their earlier statements.

The former head of state said allegations of his retreat to the forest after the coming-to-power of the Lon Nol regime were a “fairy tale” and that the “majority of Cambodian people gave their support to us for our opposition against the Lon Nol regime.”

The defendant called for popular former King Sihanouk to join him in court, pointing out that Sihanouk was head of the Khmer Rouge state presidium for a year before Samphan took the job – a point later used by defense lawyers as proof that Samphan had little real power in the ensuing regime.

Samphan also appealed to patriotism, claiming that he “loved the Cambodian people more than anything else.” He refused to use the word “invasion” when referring to the April 17, 1975, Khmer Rouge taking and subsequent (and deadly) evacuation of Phnom Penh, instead referring to it as a “liberation” 36 years after the fact.

He also had this to say to allegations of forced marriages: “I imagine with a country to run, its leaders had other things to do than check if people were having sex.”

Ultimately, Samphan hoped the trial would prove that, although he was a former Khmer Rouge leader, it was possible to prove that he had “no part in the decision making process” – allegations that will be fiercely countered in the long, long trial to come.

“In 36 years, a man grows and changes” he told the court, apparently disregarding the odd 2.2 million Cambodians denied the opportunity to do so.

Samphan’s defense team, meanwhile, launched into an argument focusing on the anarchy and violence of the war as the real reason behind the genocidal Khmer Rouge regime, pointing the blame at the US carpet bombing for creating the desperate conditions that gave rise to a brutal government regime.

Students waiting to get into the ECCC Court Room

The defense called for concrete numbers of the deaths caused by the Khmer Rouge – numbers unavailable due to the chaotic nature of the era – and argued the number of deaths was greatly inflated by poor records-keeping and people’s escape to Vietnam or Thailand. “Genocide does not only involve killing,” said national-co defense lawyer Kong Sam Onn, in a somewhat eery statement. “Not every killing is a crime. Not every killing is a murder. Not every murder is a genocide.”

Samphan was also defended by French lawyer Jacques Verges who compared the prosecution’s accounts to an “Alexandre Dumas” novel, and reminded the court of the casualties caused by US bombings and Agent Orange along the Ho Chi Minh trail.

Verges finally evoked up the ghost of Talleyrand, Napoleon’s secretary, in reference to the co-prosecution: “Everything that is excessive is vain. Everything you said was excessive, and it is therefore vain for this tribunal to take it into account.”

A noted defense lawyer, Verges has previously defended Venezuelan terrorist Carlos the Jackal, Nazi officer Klaus Barbie.

It seems these three aging Khmer Rouge leaders, who lived freely for 30-odd years after (essentially undoubtedly)committing some of the most heinous crimes of the modern era are still blaming outside parties for their own mistakes.

Khieu Samphan, Ieng Sary, and Nuon Chea are behaving as they did during the Democratic Kampuchea era, when the CIA, the USA, the KGB, the Vietnamese and other outsiders were ultimately responsible for every death, mistake, and misstep that occurred—but never the Khmer Rouge leaders themselves.

The post Ex-Khmer Rouge Leader Admits No Guilt on Third Day of Landmark War Trial appeared first on The Faster Times.

Pulitzer Prize winner and New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof has taken his long-running coverage of sex trafficking in the third world one step further: Last week, in his most recent journalistic innovation, Kristof breathlessly live-tweeted a tense raid on a brothel exploiting underage girls in Cambodia’s northern Oddar Meanchey province.

However, Kristof’s tweets about the incident have garnered no small number of negative responses from those – including myself – who believe live-tweeting, a tactic often used for covering less sensitive and private happenings, was inappropriate for covering the brothel rescue.

Here’s the story, as detailed by both the Cambodia Daily newspaper and by Kristof himself. The columnist accompanied famed Cambodian anti-sex trafficking activist Somaly Mam in a raid last Monday on an Anlong Veng brothel, which was owned by a 55-year-old Yim Sorita, whose ex-husband, present at the scene, is a former military colonel.

During the course of the raid, which, according to Kristof’s tweets, involved “riding beside Somaly in her car toward a brothel bristling with AK-47 assault rifles,” Cambodian police officers rescued six girls: five underage, including a 13-year-old, and one girl whose age has not yet been verified.

Things seemed to get tense for the group, as Kristof tweeted “Just got word we’ve got to leave. Brothel owners reportedly sending reinforcements. Concern abt what might happen,” followed by “Large crowd gathered outside brothel. Police seem wary of brothel owners or military friends staging attack.”

The situation grew scary enough that Kristof reported: “I’ve been told to rush out of town for safety. That’s what I’m doing now.” A few more tweets, presumably relayed to Kristof from the scene, followed, as a police prosecutor stared down threatening military supporters, and ultimately prevailed: “Prosecutor faced down soldiers. Military officer & wife, alleged brothel owners in N. Cambodia, taken to police station”

From Kristof’s account, the story seems to have a happy ending. The rescued girls were sent to Somaly Mam’s Afesip [Agir Pour les Femmes en Situation Precaire) organization for rehabilitation and counseling after the raid, while Kristof released a New York Times column later in the week detailing the rescue.

Finally, brothel owner Sorita, according to the Cambodia Daily, was charged with the procurement of prostitution and the management of an establishment for prostitution.

Not that all involved – or likely involved – were punished: Sorita’s ex-husband Kang Veasna, was released by police, according to a Cambodia Daily report, who said the former military colonel had nothing to do with the crimes and was divorced from Sorita anyway.

Kristof’s live tweets of the dramatic rescue certainly made for gripping reading for an international online audience. But was live-tweeting the incident the right thing to do?

I think I’m not alone when I say that it wasn’t, and that using a live Twitter stream in this instance was both potentially dangerous and in bad taste.

First and foremost, the tweets could have put both the girls and their Cambodian rescuers in danger. It’s not hard to figure out who is who, and where is where from Kristof’s 140 word missives for a person with some knowledge of Cambodia. In a well-armed country with a corrupt political system, giving out so much real-time detail is a potentially dangerous idea.

And then, there are those nagging issues of privacy and consent.

Twitter is a powerful tool of organization and announcement but it has many drawbacks, as pointed out by Salon.com columnist Irin Carmon, who wrote a well-thought out piece on Kristof's Twitter escapade last Tuesday. In her column, Ms Carmon notes, "I don’t believe Twitter is necessarily trivializing, but it isn’t a mode that fits every story.”

I agree: Not everything, or every subject fits well into an 140-word box. And, as Carmon notes, Twitter flat-out sucks at providing nuance—and nuance is what is needed in spades when it comes to covering the rescue of sexually abused young girls.

We don’t know what the girls thought of the Twitter feed after the fact—so far—but due to the instant nature of live-tweets, I’m guessing they weren’t able to give anything even approximating prior consent to having their rescue publicized. Consent is a tricky, ever-changing, and sensitive subject in journalism, and Kristof’s live tweeting adventure is, to me, pushing the bounds of morality. For the record, I believe the same limitations would and should apply to recording and broadcasting live a raid on a brothel on television.

Finally, allow me to veer into the realm of gross opinion: Live-tweeting an event like Kristof's brothel raid smelt like voyeurism to me. Watching a live-tweet unfold can be exciting, and maybe educational for the folks back home, but that doesn't absolve it from being exploitative for the girls who, without their input, have been made international symbols of a brutal trade. There are many courageous victims of sex trafficking who have chosen to stand up and tell their stories—but it's also a path they chose.

Further, a live tweeted “event” can, as Ms Colman at Salon noted, portray Kristof as more rescuer and character in the story than as an at least somewhat impartial journalist.

Not that Kristof has ever concerned himself much with staying “out” of the story. As every blog post on the topic of Kristof and sex trafficking must mention (seriously, look it up), the columnist previously ‘purchased’ two young Cambodian girls from a brothel to free them, a well-intentioned act that has earned him the title of ‘human trafficker’ from some commentators. The critics point out that simply buying someone out of slavery does little to help the problem, instead creating demand for more women—and such modern-day slaves, including one of the young women Kristof freed, have sometimes been known to return to their original “owners” for a number of complicated reasons.

Finally, there’s the matter of the brothel raid itself. Brothels are technically illegal in Cambodia, but are widely tolerated—including on my own street—as long as owners pay bribes to the proper authorities on time, and underage prostitutes (whose numbers are, as Kristof correctly notes, in decline) are kept out of the public eye.

Such a wink-wink-nudge-nudge approach to the sex industry means enforcement of anti-prostitution laws here is spotty at best. So spotty, in fact, that many Cambodians and expatriates first reaction to a reported brothel raid, especially if no underage girls are involved, goes something like this: “Well, someone didn’t pay their bribe on time.”

Now, Kristof believes the raid took place because the brothel was publicly advertising the sexual services of 13-year-old girls, who “were in plain view." That the raids were conducted as an extension of law may be true in this instance, as underage girls were involved, but the cynic in me wonders if the brothel owners were also late in paying off the required bribes.

It is undeniably a wonderful thing these young girls were rescued from a horrific situation, but I wish Kristof had added in his column or Tweets that such raids often don’t have much to do with the rule of law here in Cambodia — and that's another big, big obstacle in the fight against the exploitation of young girls.

Further, recall the brothel owner’s former colonel ex-husband, despite his presence at the brothel during the crack-down, was released without charges. His innocence, in my mind, is more than suspect, but status talks in Cambodia. This former colonel seems to have had plenty.

More raids such as the Anlong Veng crackdown need to take place, and more brothel owners need to be punished for trafficking and abusing young women. For those raids to happen regularly, effectively, and without landing victims into yet another horrible situation, fixing Cambodia’s pervasive atmosphere of corruption needs to be a major priority for everyone.

It’s also worth pointing to a recent Phnom Penh post article on human trafficking, which finds Cambodia has made less-than-wonderful progress during the last year in the arena of human trafficking. Although Cambodia has made some progress in the past decade in the fight against trafficking, it hasn’t made enough – and as Kristof correctly points out, more needs to be done. Just not with Live-tweets of tense rescue situations.

So what does Kristof have to say about the Twitter flap?

“Forced prostitution thrives because it's ignored. Tweeting raid shines a light on it, makes govt pay attention,” said Mr Kristof in his Twitter feed on Nov 9, replying to a critical comment on the live-tweet approach.

Kristof continued that argument in a quote in this weekend’s Cambodia Daily newspaper: “[Child prostitution] is a problem that persists partly because it doesn’t get enough sunlight, but I’ve seen that attention can make a difference.”

And then, I’m just plain mystified by Kristof’s Nov 14 tweet, in response to one Tania DoCarmo, who wrote “Appreciate the response but disagree. Raids r complicated & traumatizing enough w/o bystander tweeting on the sidelines…”

Kristof tweeted back with this: “Tweets draw attention to trafficking & send traffickers to jail. That’s why situation is much better in Poipet, Svay Pak etc.”

I can’t tell if Kristof intended this – and I sure hope he didn’t – but it reads as if he’s giving Twitter credit for sending Cambodian human traffickers to jail. That might be almost feasible somewhere that doesn’t have 0.5 percent Internet penetration (access) and a profoundly un-wired political elite. But in Cambodia? No way.

Kristof is right that “sunlight” is what the issue desperately needs, and long-standing efforts to bring the world’s attention to human trafficking via his writing, reporting, and upcoming “Half the Sky” documentary are laudable. But that sunlight can be applied to the issue of sex trafficking in more careful and less potentially dangerous ways than via the medium of Twitter. And if anyone gets a say in taking place in a publicity effort—even for a good cause—it should be the girls, not their rescuers.

Writing a gripping account of a brothel raid after the fact, when the dust has settled and something is known of the situation, is a fine idea. When written by a popular writer such as Kristof, such an account can go very far in drawing the public’s attention to a terrible and pervasive issue. Reporting a raid as-it-happens, as if the Tweets were coverage of a hurricane, a Middle Eastern protest, or a sports game? Not so much.

Twitter, as has been amply proven, can be a great tool during unexpected and volatile situations, such as during disasters, protests, and even (though this is trickier) in times of war. Live Tweets can help people respond to a calamity, mobilize for social change, and know what is going on with their loved ones during difficult times. But there’s a time and a place for everything.

I’ve live-tweeted a disaster myself, during last year’s Phnom Penh bridge stampede, where over 300 people lost their lives.

At the time, I felt getting the word out to a confused public about the disaster on the scene and over the Internet trumped other ethical concerns. Today? I think I’d have handled that Twitter feed very differently. But I also feel that I’d live-tweet a disaster again, while trying as hard as I could to ethically walk that very slim line between good reporting, and media exploitation of other people’s suffering.

In my mind, this debate opens up a much bigger question. What are the right – and wrong – uses of Twitter for journalists, citizens, and Internet users? Where do we draw the line and decide that 140 characters just aren’t enough, and condensing a story in such a way may be detrimental to the people we are trying to help, and whose stories we are trying to tell?

What do you think, Faster Times readers? Do you think live-tweeting a sensitive event involving private citizens is going too far? Do you think tweeting sensitive events is OK in some situations, and not OK in others? Do you think drawing attention to a little-known and horrifying issue is worth any possible privacy concerns?

Let me know in the comments, because if you ask me, this is one hell of an interesting moral question.

The post Nick Kristof Live Tweets a Raid on an Underage Brothel – And Not Everyone is Thrilled appeared first on The Faster Times.

I’m on a Russian submarine destroyer, docked at the port of Sihanoukville in Cambodia, and I’m trying not to drop a glass of vodka on the helicopter-landing pad, while the ship rolls beneath me in the middle of a tropical storm. There are Russian Navy officials and their Cambodian counterparts hobnobbing all around me, tinny Soviet-style music is playing from an AV system and all the sailor boys are getting drunk before they go off to fight Somali pirates, which is a good reason to be getting drunk. Someone is offering me a blini with an unidentifiable filling in it, and someone else is shoving yet another glass of vodka in my face; before I have managed to down the latest one. Everyone is studiously ignoring the storm outside.

The Russians are back in Cambodia, or at least they’re back for a little visit, a visit that might turn into more and more visits.

Why was I on a ship with a bunch of Russian sailors in the first place? I was there to cover the arrival of over 300 Russian Pacific fleet servicemen who were knocking off for a bit on Sihanoukville’s usually clement beaches before proceeding to the Bay of Aden to fight off Somali pirates, the whole lot of them pulling up in the evocatively named anti-submarine vessel, the Admiral Panteleev, accompanied by a salvage tug and a tanker. It was the 55th anniversary of Russia and Cambodia’s diplomatic relations, and no one from either side could quite remember when the last official Russian Federation Naval visit had been. This obviously called for a celebration.

As part of the six-day diplomatic love-in, the Russians were holding a cocktail fete for Cambodian and Russian Navy officials, diplomats, and other hanger-on’s who warranted the invite, and the media were welcome, too. The media, in a round-about way, included me.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, the Russian visit – and my own – coincided perfectly with the worst flooding that normally sunny and stoned-backpacker ridden Sihanoukville had seen in years.

I’d hoped to walk around town and look for Russian sailors getting up to all kinds of Slavic-tinted mischief with Snookie’s eternally friendly bar girls. I’d wanted to watch and take notes as the Navy boys staggered down the street singing war hymns to each other, and smashing vodka bottles on things, or whatever Russian guys do when they’re on a tear.

Instead, the whole town was holed up inside. No whoring, bar-tending, or just-plain working was going on—all of the town’s residents were attaching tarp to the gaping holes in their roof, rescuing pets, children, and cars from the deluge, and furiously bailing out their poorly-drained shops, houses, and restaurants.

I soon figured out that if there were Russians getting up to color-providing hijinks in town that day, I wasn’t going to find them unless I was willing to buy snorkeling equipment and run the distinct risk of contracting typhoid.

Why did I care about the Russians visit to Cambodia, anyway? Well, Russia and Cambodia have a special thing going, a relationship that began 55 years ago under the reign of the charismatic King Sihanouk and extends into the present day. The former USSR was one of the very few nations that stood beside Vietnam after it forced the Khmer Rouge out of power, and kept supporting the recovering nation when the 1991 Paris Peace Agreements handed sovereignty back to the Cambodian people—loyalty that the current Cambodian ruling class hasn’t forgotten.

When we arrived at the Admiral Panteleev, a Russian sailor in a prim white uniform took my hand and helped me onto the ship, which was wobbling in the typhoon and was streaked with lukewarm rain. I was very much regretting wearing spike heels, all of a sudden.

Russian sailors and Naval officials and Russian diplomats and press representatives were all there wearing their uniforms – military dress, if you had it, was specified on the invite – and so were their Cambodian counterparts. They all looked extremely dashing, which was probably the point, as they walked in front of a projector image displaying bucolic scenes of the Russian countryside on the side of the ship.

Soon after I arrived, I injected myself into the crowd, and was promptly introduced to Cambodian Minister of Defense Tea Banh, who I did not initially recognize, although he was polite about it. I was subsequently introduced to a lot of people, although it was a bit hard to hear much about names and professions over the wind and rain and the sound of Soviet-era ballroom music.

Everyone was going to have to deal with some political speeches before they were allowed into the booze and the cocktail snacks, so we stood politely, shifting with the movement of the boat, and listened as the Cambodian Defense Minister and the Russian ship captain made their statements, both operating through translators.

“I believe that this port of call will be the beginning of a new period of cooperation and interoperability between our countries,” said Russian Captain Andrey Saprikin in a short address, adding that he expected the visit would be the basis for improved relations between the two nations.

Raising his glass, Mr Saprikin implored the expectant crowd to “Drink all the drinks, to celebrate cooperation between our two nations.”

“The visit of the Russian vessels will improve the relationship and cooperation between the Navies of our two countries,” said Cambodian Defense Minister Tea Banh after Mr Saprikin’s speech, addressing a crowd of around 100 delegates in Russian through an interpreter. The Defense Minister pointed out to the crowd that Russia’s benevolent charity and help had made Cambodia’s armed forces better able to take part in UN peacekeeping missions and in the international community at large.

The Russians kept on offering the Minister vodka shots during pauses in his statement, waving the glasses under his nose. The Minister finally took a glass, gamely attempted to hold onto both it and his written speech as the boat rocked beneath him.

The speeches over, Captain Saprikin released the crowd towards the direction of the refreshments. “All the food has been prepared on board,” he added.

“Thank god there’s vodka,” my boyfriend muttered, moving to the bar as soon as the speech ended. The crowd moved with him, to tables that had been set up with vodka, wine, apple juice and incredibly difficult to identify Russian food.

The food, such as it was, was replenished through a hatch about equal with the ship’s deck, where you could see over-heated and buff young Russians working in a hot white kitchen.

I saw the Russian Diplomat to Cambodia hovering over a plate of rolled chicken and sidled up beside him, as is the way of my profession. “How is the visit going?” I asked.

The diplomat, who was wearing a tropical shirt and looked very contented, passed me some rolled chicken by way of politeness.

“It is going very well,” he said. “Maybe we’ll come more than once a year—it’s very good for the crew to come here, because they are going to the Somali Coast,” he said.

“What do the soldiers do here?” I asked him.

“I don’t know what they get up to,” the diplomat added, raising his eyebrows a bit, shooting me a meaningful gaze. “I do not want to know!” He laughed at this.

“And how are relations between Cambodia and Russia?” I asked him.

“The biggest problem is that they [the Cambodians] owe us $1.5 billion US dollars,” the diplomat said, in a speculative tone, serving me a piece of bread with some caviar on it.

“We are talking about this, which is not easy to settle. But some day, some day,” he said, perhaps envisioning a wealthy and developed Cambodian, like most of us eternal optimists.

It’s hard to deny that this vision of a wealthy and benevolent Cambodia was a major motivator behind the Russian’s friendly stop-off in the first place. Cambodia is economically on the up-and-up, as high-rises, gourmet restaurants and high-concept construction schemes sprout up like mushrooms around the capital city — a metropolis that’s a far cry from the war-torn hell-hole that was the Cambodia of the post-Khmer Rouge era.

The Sihanoukville Port is now accepting Norwegian Cruiseline ships full of only slightly terrified tourists, 34,000 Russian tourists visited Cambodia in 2010 and Russian expats in Sihanoukville have opened up a number of popular businesses in town, including a snake-themed restaurant and bar. Russian signs are visible in certain bits of Sihanoukville, and Russian restaurants can be found in both Snookie (as Sihanoukville is often called) and Phnom Penh.

Furthermore, when it comes to oligarchies—Cambodia is well on its way to building a truly magnificent specimen, and Russia is an expert in the field. Some people, far apart and culturally distinct as they are, just understand each other.

I spoke next to Colonel Nikolay Nikolayuk, who had helped me get to the party in the first place, and bless him for it.

“This visit, maybe not so good. It’s the first visit,” he said, referring in part to the rainy weather. “But maybe later visits will be better,” he added. He looked hopeful.

The Russian higher-ups were obviously in their element, chatting among themselves and with the Cambodian top-brass. Many older Cambodians in the armed forced speak Russian, having been trained in the former Soviet Union during Cambodia’s recovery years so it was time for them to reminisce a little.

The lower-level Cambodian Navy and political representatives huddled near the back of the boat, unsure of what it was exactly that they were supposed to do. Some of them had vodka glasses, but many had not touched anything, regarding the spread of cold chicken, fish eggs, and blinis with what looked like deep apprehension. They all left early.

The young Russian pirate fighters, appeared to be having a good time, those of them that had either dragged themselves away from town (battling the damp) or had been allowed above decks for the occasion.

One friendly young man kept on flirting with me as I wandered the decks in search of someone to talk to. I figured he was off to fight pirates in the squalid waters of the Bay of Aden and was looking to live a little, and humored him.

He did not understand the English for “boyfriend” and thought that my 6-foot-6 and increasingly irritated significant other, who was wearing glasses and an all-black suit, was my security guard.

After some emphatic miming, the sailor finally got it, and he placed his hand a ways above his head. “He is very – long?” the sailor said, pointing at my boyfriend, who had gone to fetch more vodka.

“Don’t tell him that,” I said, nodding to my other half.

Misunderstanding resolved, the three of us did vodka shots.

“From Russia…with love!” the young sailor shouted, a phrase which most of the other young Russians seemed to have dutifully and carefully memorized for occasions such as this.

An hour and a half or so had elapsed since the speeches had ended, and attendees were beginning to, with great tact and delicacy, sneak down the gangway towards somewhere less damp, somewhere with little less tinkling, incessant ballroom music. Diplomacy had been achieved and a show of friendliness had been made: the party’s goal had been accomplished and that goal wasn’t fun.

“Please, please, can we leave?” my boyfriend said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Everyone else is,” I conceded.

The morning brought a two hour long break in the weather. Russian soldiers were coming out of the port’s entry way in small packs, smiling and talking to each other about light things, looking forward to what might be a slightly-less damp day at the beach.

They were headed to the Bay of Aden, and had last night performed their diplomatic duty for their country. They were stewards of the long-standing and respectable relationship between Russia and Cambodia, and, before they went after machine-gun and machete wielding Bandits of the Sea, they were off to avail themselves in a healthy manner of all those tropical niceties the Kingdom has to offer, tropical niceties which the Tourism Board is eager to remind everybody of. It was that rarest of moments – a situation where everyone had pretty much won. They looked happy and I was happy for them, and hoped the weather would hold.

The Russian boys were all wearing tropical shirts.

The post The Love Boat: Cambodian Russian Diplomacy appeared first on The Faster Times.

A professional artist before he was taken into the Tuol Sleng as a “political enemy” on non-existent and paranoid charges, Nath managed to survive the ordeal by way of his art. Nath’s talent was recognized by his Khmer Rouge jailers a month into his stint in the prison, and he was soon pressed into service by the Khmer Rouge as a portrait-painter, sculptor, and propaganda artist, skills that would save him from the deaths that 14,000 other inmates of the paranoia-driven facility met during its four years of existence.

Pol Pot’s megalomania and dreams of turning Cambodia into a communist utopia may have saved Vann Nath’s life. As part of his duties at Tuol Sleng, Nath created some of the only extant busts and paintings of Pol Pot, objects which may have been a preamble to the usually secretive Pot’s attempt to create a Mao-like personality cult around himself.

After the Khmer Rouge fell to the Vietnamese in 1979, Nath turned his artistic skills against the regime that had imprisoned him. His graphic and unsparing portraits of daily life at Tuol Sleng and the tortures he and his fellow inmates suffered now hang on the walls of the prison-turned-museum, contributing to what David Hawk of the New Republic called “a museum of the Cambodian nightmare.”

To museum visitors, Nath’s paintings provide a vivid and harsh painted testament, images that stick in the mind long after you’ve seen them. A naked and emaciated man is moved from building to building, his hands and feet tied to a pole which two guards carry. Shackled prisoners are laid head-to-foot on the floor of a classroom-complete-with-blackboard, an armed guard keeping watch.

Guards rip a child from a mother’s arms, while other children are bashed to death with metal rods. Stony-faced guards dunk a half-naked man headfirst into a pot full of excrement, while another is strung up from between two poles. These torture devices still stand in the tropical courtyard of Tuol Sleng, brought to horrific life by Nath’s paintings.

More than a painter and visual artist, Nath also wrote the widely-read and widely-referred to memoir “A Cambodian Prison Portrait: One Year in the Khmer Rouge S-21 Prison,” which is now sold in bootleg copies on the street just about everywhere in Phnom Penh. (You can buy it at this link).

Nath also worked on the documentary “The Khmer Rouge Killing Machine” with film-maker Rithy Pan, where he can be seen fearlessly interviewing former Khmer Rouge prison guards at Tuol Sleng and the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek.

In 2009, in one of history’s more pleasing turn-arounds of justice, Nath was finally able to give evidence at the Khmer Rouge war tribunal against Kaing Guek Eav, alias Duch, the chief of Tuol Sleng and his former torturer. Duch was sentenced by Cambodia’s ECCC tribunal to 35 years in prison, 18 of which have already been served. Cambodia does not, perhaps appropriately, have a death penalty.

One of Nath’s last paintings – which he did want released publicly prior to his death – shows the former Tuol Sleng prison chief sitting amidst a sea of skulls, starring at the guilty verdict placed before him, a desolate landscape in the immediate background. It is impossible to know if Nath ever found peace after the horrors he suffered, but family members have some idea. “Even now, I believe my father is happy with what the court has done so far,” said Nath’s son-in-law in recent interviews with the Cambodia Daily newspaper. “It is…justice for him, because he saw the court convict Duch.”

Vann Nath’s relatively early death has become a moral issue in the minds of many Cambodians. As dictated by international human rights regulation, elderly ex-Khmer Rouge authorities imprisoned by the ECCC receive top notch medical care. Nuon Chea, Pol Pot’s former second-in-command, is regularly allowed to leave the ECCC’s courtroom if he is feeling unwell, and medical staff are available to him and other ECCC detainees 24 hours a day—services which are paid for by the Cambodian government.

Vann Nath was not so lucky. After the artist slipped into a coma—which he would not reawaken from—his family was forced to seek donations from the public to foot his growing medical bills. The city grapevine and an online funding drive were quickly set up in an effort to save him and ease his families financial burden, but it was too late. Mr Nath died at 12:45, his passing coinciding with a powerful Phnom Penh rainstorm.

No one know if Nath’s life could have been saved by better medical care, but it’s impossible for observers to ignore the contradiction between Vann Nath’s treatment —and the expenses his family suffered—and that of his former torturers. Reparations have not been provided for in the ECCC’s proceedings against Duch, as the former Tuol Sleng jailer had no money to pay for them.

The debate over how much consideration should be afforded to the imprisoned perpetrators of war-crimes will rage on, but Vann Nath’s artistic legacy will last far past his death, and for as long as history is interested in the crimes and deranged psychology of the Khmer Rouge. As an artist and witness, every visitor to Tuol Sleng—and there will be, should be, many—will remember Vann Nath’s name.

More Faster News:

More Notes: ‘It Kind of Feels like the Diary of Anne Frank a la Libyan Style’

The Religious Controversy Surrounding “Ground Zero Cross”

What Obama Should Tell the Country

The post Vann Nath, Famous Survivor of Cambodian Torture Prison, Dies at 66 appeared first on The Faster Times.

Recently, I interviewed Phatry Derek Pan, co-founder of upcoming Khmer-American web portal Khmerican.com. Khmerican hopes to provide Khmer-Americans, Cambodians, and the online world with a one-stop online shop— compiling news, information databases, networking opportunities and more into a single location.

Further, Khmerican will give citizen journalists an outlet to share community happenings, opinions, and information, allowing Khmer-Americans — and the web site’s staff writers— to document and organize the rise of a relatively new and increasingly influential immigrant community.

For now, you can read Khmerican.com’s blog, located at this link. Following is my interview with Mr Pan.

- What prompted you to start Khmerican.com? Where did the idea come from?

Khmerican is a news and information web portal on Khmer America. The problem today is that there is no website that provides a comprehensive collection of original news, a calendar, photo galleries, announcements and other relevant information on and about Khmer America.

I came up with the idea to create Khmerican after 12 years working with students and community leaders. They had shared this problem with me, and I personally experienced the problem myself as a community organizer. When the concept became clearer, I reached out to Sophath Oun, a childhood friend and full-time webmaster.

- What’s the purpose of the site in your own words – social networking, an entry-point for Cambodian-Americans online, and so on? Are you going to hire staff-writers?

The purpose of Khmerican is to build a culture of citizen journalists among those who share an interest in Khmer America. I am a heavy user and early adopter of social media and web technology, and I realized that through my network of friends scattered around the States and abroad, I can tap into them to serve as informants, or I’d like to say, ‘cultural ambassadors.’

I feel that Khmer America is developing at such fast pace, and no one is trying to document this progress. Khmerican attempts to do this by its regular reports and news articles.

We just hired two writers: Vanndy Pan (no relation), of Providence, RI and Dahnie Tran of Boston, MA. We will hire up to 20 writers to diversify our coverage and reach. We are also looking for photographers.

- Have you taken cues from other American immigrant groups in creating Khmerican?

No, I haven’t. I am aware of community based newspapers and publications that focus on a particular immigrant community, but what will separate us are the online databases.

For example, Rajana Artist Database (RAD), is created specifically for artist professionals interested in networking, collaborating, and sharing with other like-mind individuals.

We will have other databases to serve other groups: master Khmer student organization (KSOs) directory, master directory of community based orgs (CBOs), etc. These databases are free of charge to non-profits and educational institutions, and are created to facilitate engagement and mobilize individuals around issues and causes.

- Do you think Cambodian-Americans have a reasonably strong support system in the USA? How so, and in what ways?

In my opinion, the support system is relatively weak and unestablished compared to larger immigrant communities like the Vietnamese, Chinese or Filipinos. It’s weaker because there is no media outlet that attempts to serve a national population like Khmerican.

On the local level, the larger Khmer populated communities like Long Beach, Lowell and Seattle are pretty strong to rally the community around social issues. Now, if Khmerican can become the online authority for all things Khmer America, I believe our voice and volume would be much larger.

-Do you think the website and Khmerican.com can enhance this?

Yes, we truly believe that Khmerican can strengthen communities on a local and national level. If I am trying to get my peers and younger friends to be more conscious of what is going on in their community, I think connecting them with a portal illustrating the progress of Khmer America would foster that type of engagement.

And the older generations, now in the late 30s to 50s range, are using computer more. They are always curious to know what other Khmer communities in other states are doing. Being able to learn from other communities failures and success is inspiring and empowering.

- What prompted you to begin writing about your experiences as 1.5 generation refugee, and a Cambodian-American?

Everyone, immigrant or not, should document their life experience. For me, it’s personal, as memorabilia to have in my family and for my future kids.

In the future, I would love to write a book covering the progress of Khmer America in the last 50 years. There is a pictorial book on Long Beach’s Cambodian Community that recently came out that I particularly enjoyed. But my idea would be more than just LBC, and more than just images.

But Khmer America to me, is only 36 years old. (1975 – present).

- How long have you been blogging and using social media?

Intermittently, I have been blogging since June 2004. My blog, www.phatryderekpan.com was only launched in March 2011 and will serve as my main personal page. It’s undergoing a complete revamp to be out by Fall 2011 with more features.

I have adopted social media ever since the days when community forums were popular. I started with khmerconnection.com, a now inactive website based in Long Beach.

I joined Facebook right after they expanded membership to university students in late 2003, Twitter in late 2008, Google Plus since beta testing. I read about web trends and social media just as much as I read on Cambodia/Khmer America related news daily – about 90 minutes a day. I consider myself a social media geek.

- Tell me more about your work as a community organizer for Cambodian Americans. How will the website work alongside this?

I was a student organizer as early as 1998 when I was an undergraduate at the University of Washington, Seattle. I played leadership roles with the Khmer Student Associations for all 4.5 years there.

I even started an all Khmer arts student organization my senior year called Rajana Society that lasted for 3 years. After college, I interned with a pan-Asian community museum and was an art instructor to under-represented youth centers in Seattle before I made the move to Cambodia in August 2005.

One of the biggest challenge in community organizing is having the resources to mobilize your constituents. At Khmerican, we have these powerful databases so if I wanted to rally people about a Congress bill to support Khmer Americans facing health issues because of ptsa, Khmerican will get the word out to a national audience.

And with a strong background in social media and web technology, I think Khmerican can really be a good model for other groups and communities.

- Do you think social media and the internet will be a useful tool for Cambodians in the future?

Yes, if local Cambodians can realize the real power of online mobilization, then it will be a useful tool. But there is not much effort from local NGOs or individuals like it was before when blogging was popular around 2005 to 2007. I am optimistic that Khmerican can indirectly effect the behavior of local Cambodians with social media. But time will tell.

-Do you think Cambodian-Americans can provide leadership or assistance in this arena? If so, what do you think is the best way to accomplish this?

Yes, I truly do believe that Khmericans (by the definition provided in our website) can foster that type of relationship for people and social media. The youth population is extremely open, progressive and curious about the outside world and America has a big influence on that.

If they see more prevalent Khmer Americans using the Twitters and Google Plus for social good, then the change will come. But I’m also against imposing my personal views on what local should or should not do.

I am serving Khmer America, but everyone knows that my heart has never left Cambodia, so Khmerican is my humble attempt to change Cambodia.

The post Cambodian-Americans Get an Online Home: An Interview with Phatry Derek Pan appeared first on The Faster Times.

I have mostly included this painting because it is awesome.

WikiLeaks has come to Cambodia, and local media sources spent the latter part of July combing through hundreds of pages of not-so-secret information. Cables ranged from detailed accounts of the Siem Reap sex trade to cutting comments on certain dignitaries tone-of-voice to very serious concerns about the ongoing Thai-Cambodian border controversy.

While looking through the cables (Thanks, Mr Assange!), I noticed an interesting new dimension in the long-standing and poorly understood relationship between North Korea and Cambodia.

The WikiLeaks cables revealed that in November 2006, a North Korean man, arrested and held in Cambodia’s rather remote Mondolkiri province, was not immediately deported to Vietnam—as was reported at the time.

The refugee was instead assisted in his search for asylum by the Cambodian and South Korean governments, with the full knowledge and assent of the US government. This formal government assistance has until now, been kept a secret. Cambodian police sources in 2006 said that the man- who was named to media as a Mr Ly Hai Long, although this name does not sound even vaguely Korean – was immediately and unceremoniously deported to Vietnam on November 21, the day he was detained. But US Embassy cables from November 22 tell a different story, noting the South Korean ambassador had contacted US officials to tell them that his government was working with Cambodia to “quietly move him (Mr Hai Long) to South Korea.”

The English-language Cambodia Daily newspaper reported on Nov 23 that Mondolkiri Governor Lay Sokha insisted the North Korean was still in police custody, while Mondolkiri police said they knew nothing whatsoever about the man or the circumstances of his detention.

A second, more detailed US cable—also from November 22—told a different tale. According to the second cable, US NGO workers based in Mondolkiri had met the North Korean at a restaurant there, where he asked them to help him find asylum in the USA.

The Americans immediately contacted US Embassy via human rights NGO Licadho, and gave the-then US Politics and Economics Chief all the information they had on Mr Hai Long, a meeting held at Licadho’s offices.

The North Korean’s detention aligned somewhat inconveniently with the 2006 visit of former South Korean President Roh Moo-hyun, who during that visit asked Cambodia for a bit of assistance in negotiating with the always-difficult North.

According to the cables, Mondolkiri provincial officials were instructed to keep the man in custody until Mr Moo-hyun’s visit was over, then send him along to Phnom Penh.

Contradictions in the North Korean’s case continued, as now-deceased (and notorious) Police Commissioner Hok Lundy insisted on the 27th that the man had been deported, while a program coordinator for human rights NGO Adhoc continued to say the difficult-to-track man had been sent to Phnom Penh.

The US cables end with a brief analysis, noting that the man’s “liberal” treatment in Cambodia, in tandem with the Korean President’s visit, was nothing if not heartening from the American perspective: “The ROK Ambassador’s assurances that they are quietly engaged with the RGC on this case are consistent with the good working relationship that the South Korean government has established with the Cambodian government concerning North Korean refugees,” the cable finishes.

Both North and South Korean embassies declined to comment publicly on the matter when I called them a couple of weeks ago, as did the US Embassy. I couldn’t find out what ultimately happened to the so-called Mr Ly Hai Long, but I have a hunch he’s been resettled – hopefully happily – somewhere in South Korea. If only all North Korean escapees could be so lucky, instead of, say, being shot while fording a freezing river to live a life of vaguely-less poverty in China or being sent off to work camps upon being captured en route out of the country.

But the trail doesn’t end there when it comes to North Korean refugees in Cambodia, as a series of 2009 cables indicate. A July 10 cable noted two Embassy of the Republic of Korea counselors were “preoccupied with conveying their desire that the ROK (government of Korea) pipeline for North Korea refugees not be publicly revealed, and remain separate from any US refugee processing pipeline,” a sentiment the US government, according to the cable, shared.

Embassy cables from 2010 that six North Koreans had, in recent years, approached the Phnom Penh US Embassy in search of resettlement, discussing in detail the imminent departure of two North Koreans for the US on April 16.

The cables note with evident pleasure Hok Lundy’s “cooperation in…processing exist permits for the two individuals,” as well as Cambodian officials “discreet” handling of the North Korean’s exit from the country.

The cable also refers to a previous, covert departure of North Korean refugees where “no one at the airport noticed the North Korean’s comings and goings.” Considering the none-too impressive dimensions of Phnom Penh’s airport, that’s no mean feat. What’s most interesting about Cambodia’s efforts to aid North Korean refugees? Cambodia and North Korea have historically had a pretty good relationship – a relationship that, as the cables indicate, may be cooling off.

Former Cambodian King Norodom Sihanouk enjoyed a long-standing and comfortable relationship with Pyongyang, and the now-deceased Dear Leader Kim il Sung. The former king was given a palce on a North Korean lake, where he spent much of the Lon Nol era of Cambodia’s war-years in exile (and where he returned after the 1979 Vietnamese invasion). Sihanouk was also known to use burly North Korean guards for his personal security outfit.

As of 2011, a few North Korean state-run restaurants operate in Phnom Penh and in the tourist hub of Siem Reap. North Korea just sent a trade delegation to Cambodia—delegations from the DPRK to Cambodia are usually sent a few times a year.

But Cambodia seems to be shifting its formerly (sorta) friendly approach to the DPRK. In a 2006 embassy cable, Sun Suon, director of the Cambodian Ministry of Foreign Affairs International Organizations Department, said that Pyongyang’s dabbling in nuclear weapons was a “grave miscalculation” that could have “dire” consequences.

When asked about his nation’s relationship with the DPRK, he “suggested it was no longer as unique as it once was,” what with the death of Kim Il Sung and the 2004 retirement of the massively influential Sihanouk.

Another 2006 cable notes that Cambodian Prime Minister Hun Sen is “sensitive” to the North Korean refugees plight, due to his own experience of “having to seek shelter outside his own country during the Khmer Rouge period.”

In the same cable, Hun Sen’s advisor, Om Yentiang, in a rather worrisome statement, registered “some concern over the PM’s safety due to the proximity of the North Korean Embassy (which is next door) to the PM’s residence — should USG-RGC cooperation on North Korean refugees become public knowledge.” Paranoia, or warranted caution when it comes to interactions with the widely proven to be completely nutso North Koreans?

So is Cambodia delicately edging away from its formerly friendly relationship with North Korea? The newly released cables seem to indicate that Cambodia is, probably wisely, backing away—quietly—from close ties with the (unsurprisingly) profoundly unpopular North Koreans.

But, at least on the outside, Cambodia and North Korea appear to be conducting business as usual. A North Korean trade delegation, sent at the end of July, enjoyed a reasonably productive visit to Cambodia. The two nations revamped seven points originally agreed to in 1993, and agreed to mutual assistance on (among other things) forestry projects and aquaculture, while North Korea expressed interest in importing Cambodian rice. Well, they do need it.

Although the Embassy cables regarding North Korean refugees cut out as of 2009, it’s likely that refugees who manage to make it through will continue to be quietly processed in Cambodia and sent on to South Korea or the USA. Does North Korea now know about Cambodia’s refugee “pipeline” and does it particularly care? The next few months should yield the answer, and I’ll be watching.

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