Bloody Mary is the Girl I love

After my first day back in the NY office, I left work early to see South Pacific on Broadway (at Lincoln Center). It's one of my favorite shows, with short catchy songs and a smart fixation on interracial dynamics in the 1940's.

The show deals with many "ex-pat" questions that westerners living in Cambodia deal with:

Could move here permanently? How invested am I in my sense of home as the familiar place of upbringing? If I get involved with a local or foreigner, can I really see myself building a life with them? What's at stake for getting involved romantically for a local versus for an expat?

The male lead who played Emil de Beck, a french planter, had a deep, rich, voice. I cried when he sang "this nearly was mine. "

During the intermission, I ran into a guy I went to summer camp with, who I hadn't seen in at least ten years.

A strange juxtaposition: missing the foreign and enjoying the long-lost familiar.

A lotta countries: my first conversation back

Touched down tonight in Newark at roughly 7:30pm, was out of customs by 7:45 after a very brief interrogation by middle-aged blond passport officer.

her (reading my entry card): UK, Sweden, Cam-what?, that's a lotta countries, whaddya do that you're traveling so much?

Me: I'm an NGO-er.

her: huh?

me: ya know, non-governmental organization, non-profit... we use computers to help break the cycle of poverty in Southeast Asia.

her: oh, sure. Why not break the cycle of poverty here?

me: Yeah, that's on our list of things to do. We figure start with the poorest people first, $50 a month makes a very big deal in these people's lives.

her: Okay, keep it up. Welcome back.

At customs, they asked me if I was bringing back any meat and then scanned only one of my bags (of four). It's the first time i've seen the US government do post-arrival luggage scanning.

Three Days Later

A brief look on my itinerary of the past three days:

Saturday Morning: Breakfast in Yangon. Flight from Yangon to Bangkok.

Saturday Afternoon: Seven-hour lay-over in the Bangkok Airport. Flight from Bangkok to Phnom Penh.

Saturday Evening: Arrival in Phnom Penh at 8pm, at a party on the riverside by 10, a concert by 11:30, and post-concert drinks from 1-4ish.

Sunday Morning: Packing from 4-8am. Flight from Phnom Penh to Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia), transit into city, checked into a dive hotel in near "Sentral Stration," long dinner from 7-11:30pm with Mr. A-Z, a clever and deeply analytical Malaysian telecom executive (we got to be friends in early 2008 in Phnom Penh). Asleep around midnight.

Monday Morning: Wake-up at 5am, transit to KL airport. "All I ask of you" from Phantom of the Opera is playing on the airtrain, which I find deeply moving, bringing tears.

Flight from KL to Stockholm, 9:15am. 11 hour flight, the plane is almost half empty and I stretch out over a whole row. I watch Ghost Town (of interest), Wall E (wonderful, a good re-watch), Hellboy 2 (poor writing, great imagery). We arrive at Arlanda at 2:30pm. The sun is setting, and it is dark by 3pm. I make the mistake of not spending the remaining 300 kronor from November's stop here.

Flight from Stockholm to Newark, 8 hours. I watch Fred Claus and eat 3 Swedish shrimp salad sandwiches, and get another row to myself.

Three days, three cities, six airports.

Ghosts in Bangkok

I'm in the Bangkok airport waiting for my flight to Yangon. The airport is a ghost town, operating at half of usual capacity. The staff are tense, and nervous, completely on edge. The atmosphere is post-traumatic: as if at any point they expect another demonstration from the PAD with violence and trouble. My flight from Phnom Penh was delayed three hours, which suited me fine: they paid for lunch and I ended up hanging out with a world banker who is part of a new governance project in Cambodia. Smart British engineer, has been around the block in Asia for 30+ years.

After an easy flight, I got here and spent the next hour complaining about awful service and asking for a voucher or upgrade. They told me that they are consider upgrading my next flight (to Burma). Unsatisfied, and then I sucessfully argued my way into an hour using the internet in the business lounge, after a long empassioned speech about service levels and customer satisfaction.

I am tempted to raid the buffet, but I sense that they might arrest me.

Off to Myanmar....

I'm off. 

After submitting an application on Tuesday in Vientiane (Laos) I was granted a visa to visit the Union of Myanmar on thursday. 

I returned to Phnom Penh on friday morning on a quick and painless Vietnam Airlines flight, sitting next to a Laotian/Khmer-American couple from Seattle.  I spent the afternoon at the office tying up loose ends. 

I'll fly out of Phnom Penh this morning, stop in Bangkok (what does one do in the Bangkok Airport for 6 hours?), and arrive in Yangon (formerly Rangoon) in the early evening. 

Just when you think you're not in Kansas...

I took the bus up to DDD's office in Battambang today, a six-hour ride that included two rest stops, an extremely overactive air conditioner, enough Khmer Karaoke to entertain an adolescent troop, and a short nap.

Waiting for the bus to board, the other passengers and I watched a clip of Britney spears perform "I'm a slave for you" at the Video Music Awards, wearing a live boa constrictor.

Then a boy sold me a copy of Time Magazine for $2.50. It had a picture of Obama's face superimposed on a photo of FDR.

Eat, Drink, Work

I had an intense, back-to-work Monday today at the office, punctuated only by a delicious vegetarian lunch at "Fate-Blessing Buddha." The restaurant is located near the Olympic stadium and i've never seen another westerner as a patron, other than those whom I'm eating with. We had imitation roasted pork, two types of miniature chicken cutlets in a delicious mock-oyster sauce, and very convincing beef ribs with thicker gluten/tofu mimicking rib bones. Also, thick egg and sour soup with imitation ham and seafood, and a stewed green vegetable with a hard to remember name. We got five large dishes, a pot of soup, and ice tea for roughly $24.

After a fast afternoon and early evening of work, I had dinner at Friends, a social enterprise that trains street youth to cook and run a fancy Tapas restaurant in Phnom Penh. Friends has marvelous spicy eggplant dip, and we devoured it before munching yogurt and mint cucumber salad, thick and creamy pumpkin soup, beef tacos, and baby bok choy. They also brought a terrific hummus dip on which we didn't order. I drank a fresh green apple juice smoothie.

I rounded out the day with bag of bilar (cars), a Swedish sugar candy I bought in Stockholm a few weeks ago.

The Lieberman Debate

With the defeat of Alaska Senator Ted Stevens, the Democrats now have 56 official seats in the US Senate. This number is enhanced by two independents who caucus with the democratic majority: Bernie Sanders from Vermont (a socialist) and Joe Lieberman, formerly a right-wing democrat from Connecticut. This effectively brings the democratic majority to 58, two votes short of a 60 seat majority that can pass any legislation without the threat of a filibuster.

With two senate races still undecided (a close recount in Minnesota and a somewhat unlikely chance of winning a run-off in Georgia), the majority has decided to allow Lieberman to keep his chair of the homeland security committee, effectively cutting a deal: he caucuses with the democrats as independent in exchange for the privileges of seniority.

John Nichols of the Nation defends this decision to keep Lieberman, on pragmatic tactical grounds.

I see Nichols' point: there isn't much to be gained by making the Democratic tent in the Senate smaller. That being said, is it is necessary to punish Lieberman in some way for his support of Mccain during the campaign, relentless promotion of aggressive and militaristic foreign policy, and general right-wing moralizing.

The most effective way to do this is to run a serious and well-backed democratic candidate in 2012 when he's up for re-election. Ned Lamont was brave to run against him in 2006, but the Democrats need to get serious in ensuring some degree of party discipline for core decisions.

Tactically speaking, it seems unlikely to me that the Democrats will win both Minnesota and Georgia, which even with Lieberman joining the group will require reaching out to the dwindling number of moderate republican senators (Susan Collins, Olympia Snowe, Arlen Spector, Chuck Hagel) on crucial legislation or nominees that the republican minority filibusters on.

Ultimately, it seems more productive to build a coalition with these folks on borderline issues (health insurance, minimum wage, large diplomatic initiatives, large federal infrastructure spending, progressive energy policy, center-of-left Supreme court nominees) than it does to keep Lieberman as part of the coalition. Should Lieberman not vote for cloture (the vote that ends a filibuster) on a central issue, he should be stripped of his seniority immediately.

Saturday Run

I woke up to a morning without professional obligations. I've spent a last week executing and facilitating logistics for DDD's annual board meeting in Asia, so today's my first substantive day of freedom. I slept in until 10:30, and met a S (a newly arrived co-worker) for a run along the river.

With the help of Toro (motorcycle driver, guide, friend, comic relief), we drove twenty minutes south of Phnom Penh to the Kandal province, passing impressive embassies, ministries, the Senate, and the majority Cambodian People's Party compound.

We ran under the powerful Southeast Asian sun, first along the river (the Tonle Sap, I think) and then the highway. The heat was overwhelming, and we stopped to walk after a 2-3 miles, restarting the run and then cyclically repeating.

In addition to the dust of the road, the sugary, wet aroma of fresh tobacco hung in the air, a pleasant result of the nearby British American Tobacco plant.

Public Death

Hok Lundy, the head of Cambodia's national police force, was killed in a helicopter crash yesterday.

Human Rights Watch describes Hok Lundy as "represent(ing) the absolute worst that Cambodia has to offer", and says that "aside from his boss, Prime Minister Hun Sen, there is hardly anyone in Cambodia who has shown more contempt for the rule of law than Hok Lundy"[4]

I heard about crash while I was down in Kampot, from an American tourist. She'd been having drinks with Singaporean contractors in town when the call came in from Phnom Penh.

None of my Khmer friends express any regret over his death. Some of my local friends have even attended celebration parties.

The Feelings of the election, a few days later

A friend wrote to ask about the mood here in Phnom Penh, post-election. An excerpt from my reply:

"the Americans rejoiced on Wednesday, but the feeling of change dissipated quickly. We're far away from America and the ideals that have been realized in the past week, and the government here seems so corrupt and unchangeable, even with an Obama in office. From what I can tell, the Cambodian state lies in a balance of power (China, Vietnam, Korea, Japan, Thailand) that is almost entirely unaffected by direct American intervention. Hopefully this is not true."

America, a Place Where all Things are Possible

I watched this speech live in around noon, standing on a chair in the backroom of the the Foreign Correspondant's club on the Mekong River.


If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled - Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

It's the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.

I just received a very gracious call from Senator McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, and he's fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine, and we are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader. I congratulate him and Governor Palin for all they have achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nation's promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to Delaware, the Vice President-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last sixteen years, the rock of our family and the love of my life, our nation's next First Lady, Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both so much, and you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the White House. And while she's no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

To my campaign manager David Plouffe, my chief strategist David Axelrod, and the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics - you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you've sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to - it belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn't start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington - it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.

It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give five dollars and ten dollars and twenty dollars to this cause. It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep; from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers; from the millions of Americans who volunteered, and organized, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people and for the people has not perished from this Earth. This is your victory.

I know you didn't do this just to win an election and I know you didn't do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime - two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century. Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how they'll make the mortgage, or pay their doctor's bills, or save enough for college. There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; new schools to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even one term, but America - I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you - we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won't agree with every decision or policy I make as President, and we know that government can't solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it's been done in America for two-hundred and twenty-one years - block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

What began twenty-one months ago in the depths of winter must not end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek - it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if this financial crisis taught us anything, it's that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers - in this country, we rise or fall as one nation; as one people.

Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House - a party founded on the values of self-reliance, individual liberty, and national unity. Those are values we all share, and while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress. As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, "We are not enemies, but friends...though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection." And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn - I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world - our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear this world down - we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security - we support you. And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright - tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from our the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope.

For that is the true genius of America - that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight is about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing - Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons - because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America - the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "We Shall Overcome." Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change. Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves - if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time - to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth - that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people:

Yes We Can. Thank you, God bless you, and may God Bless the United States of America.

Being Back

I arrived in Cambodia on Monday. We touched down around 10:15am, after two blissful hours checking e-mail and skyping in the Kuala Lumpur (KL) airport.

Getting off the plane, I am immediately hit by the heat and humidity. The entire airport in KL was fiercely air-conditioned, and the temperature must have been lower in the early morning. After a week of 0 degree (C.) weather in England and Sweden, the weather itched like a blanket of mosquitoes.

After a futile attempt to get a business visa, I sailed out of the airport into a cab. What followed was the worse traffic i've ever experienced in Cambodia. Traffic in Phnom Penh is often compared to the flow of fish in the ocean or a body of water. In this case, the stream looked and felt migratory, bursting with salmon, minnows, the occaisonal lobster, and a few eels (Black SUVs with Army plates, usually driven by the wealthy or politically connected).

I arrived at my apartment and hour or so after landing. I'm staying in an apartment at "Golden Tour Eiffel, in what I call the Langka neighborhood (it has Khmer title as well which is long and not used frequently). It's a large one-bedroom on the third floor, and is almost the size of my three-bedroom apartment in Manhattan, with a kitchen/dining room, large and roomy master bedroom, and balcony. It goes for $15 a night, plus $40 monthly for internet, and the staff/family that lives downstairs does daily laundry for free, cleans, and are very friendly when I enter and leave.

Since i've arrived, I've spent most of my time working, eating, catching up on e-mail, and sleeping.

A Sunny Day in Oxford Town

Oxford University, Oxfordshire, United Kingdom.

I feel a bit like a foreign knight from faraway realm visiting court. I arrived late at night by bus from Heathrow Airport (19 pounds, 1 hour). The local lords and ladies have been quite civil in their reception, and I am greeted and treated with interest and care... people have been quite interested in conversation. It may have helped that brought Swedish chocolate for AM's (my best friend from high school) housemates, and am on my way to Cambodia. The graduates students here are marvelous: remarkably a highly international group, deeply concerned with the state of the world around them, and wicked smart.

This evening, we dined in the New College dining room for the formal sitting, eating with a Vlad, a second-year Marshall scholar. The ceiling rose high above, with thick wood paneling, classical paintings, and a row above the main dining room floor for the professors (fellows). They served us a three course meal, which was remarkably tasty. One could feel the tradition and solemnity of the place, and it felt like a serious meal. Afterwards, we toured the darkened and deserted cloister-style courtyard. Truly magnificent, and very romantic... This seems like a wonderful place in which to fall in love. As it is freezing cold here, we warmed up with coffee in the common room and then went to one of the college pubs for some round of Green Goblin cider and deep conversation with German economic grad student about flaws in neoclassical economic theory, supply and demand in media markets, and Missouri. I also met a british student studying American history: he told me he was writing his doctorate on isolationists in the US from 1945-1965.

I don't really understand the British.

Scenes from Newark Airport:

-The Virgin Atlantic staff, long red ladies in uniform sitting on the floor facing the windows, watching the planes and texting on their cell phones.

-Malaysian Air crew in purple-blue floral print, quieting arriving en masse to board the plane.

-Swedes and Malaysians on a flight to Stockholm, East and West in tight proximity.

When I take off on a international flight, my world gets a lot bigger. The map in front of me zooms out and I marvel at how far away the places seem at 40,000 feet. Suddenly it is all very large, complicated, unknown, and exciting.

The crew approaches with a special meal, playing marco polo in the back of the plane. When they find its recipient, the ultra-Orthodox Jew accepts and explains Kashrut to the Malay Muslim stewardess. Israel comes up, as does racism in Malaysia. I wait for the sparks, which never occur. I jealously observe a wonderful point of rare cultural contact and diplomatic decoding of the other. Suddenly, the world is smaller, manageable, and concrete again. Split hooves, chewing cud, and we’re off to Europe. I take Tylenol PM and wait for the meal to arrive.

Obama's E-mail

From the Onion:

Towers of Light

It was a cool, clear day here in New York. There seem to be a large number of tourists in the city, and the locals swam through the day with a slightly detached air...watching. A co-worker from Mississippi inquired into the past....I was the only person in my office to have been around in 2001.

My high school friend E encountered the senior Senator from Delaware on 114th, and blurted out "Biden, we love you;" the comment was graciously returned with an about-face, pat on the arm and a broad, white-haired grin. Walking home after work, I stumbled across the premiere of "The women" at 19th street. Jada Pinkett is very small in person and Julie Stiles carries herself with elegance. Eva Mendes is less attractive in person, surprisingly. The flashing of the paparazzi was surreal and mesmerizing.

Seven years is a long time. If this is a return to normalcy, it is disquieting... as Maugham said of Perfection, [its] "a trifle dull... It is not the least of life's ironies that this, which we all aim at, is better not quite achieved." On the other hand, dinner was a glaringly imperfect Serbian meal.

The twin beams stretch endlessly into the sky.

Experience

Experience:

Obama:
B.A in political science from Columbia University, with a specialization in international relations
J.D. in Law from Harvard, graduated magna cum laude; President of the Harvard Law Review
12 years (92-04) teaching constitutional law
7 years State Senator: sponsored more than 800 bills
4 years Senator for Illinois (a state with 12.8 million people)

Palin:
Bachelor's in journalism from University of Idaho
4 years Wasilla City Council (8000 people)
6 years Wasilla mayor (8000 people)
1 year "Ethics Commissioner of the Alaska Oil and Gas Conservation Commission"
20 months governor of a state with 660,000 people

G.O.P Love Song. Verse #1

In honor of the The Republican Convention, I wrote a poem.

I love you more than palin loves her pistol,
So much more than Levi loves Bristol
Love you more than a masochist loves pain
about as much as Dobson loves Mccain

Israel, Iran, and Nukes

Gershom Gorenberg analyzes the likelihood of and probabilities for success of an attack by Israel on Iran's Nuclear facilities. The Israeli media is fascinated by the possibility of an attack, although there seems be negative or mixed signals from the American military and Bush Administration.

The Ambassador's Bodyguards see a lot of movies

An enjoyable interview with Dan Gillerman, Israel's outgoing Ambassador to the United Nations.

According to Gillerman, "A diplomat is a person who can tell you to go to hell and actually make you look forward to the journey."

His replacement is the Gabriela Shalev, a law professor, and the first woman to hold the position.

VP Possibilities

I heard Mark Warner speak last night at a DL21c event. Warner was an extremely popular Democratic governor of Virginia and currently is the front-runner for a Senate seat.

He's also a possible V.P. pick for Obama. Warner's a centrist Democrat with extensive business credentials, sort of the gubernatorial version of Mike Bloomberg. Warner spoke very well, with a NY tailored speech delivered in an off-the-cuff manner, using yiddish, joking with the crowd about the competing Obama fundraiser uptown, and argued for massive federal investment in infrastructure.

Warner's sucessor in Virgnina is also a possible VP pick. Governor Tim Kaine has similar political leanings as Warner, and is similarly popular. One possible liability is Kaine's opposition to abortion on religious grounds (he's an observant Catholic).



Jim Webb is NOT interested in being Obama's running mate: in a statement he wrote tha""Under no circumstances will I be a candidate for vice president."

Warner seems likely, as does PA Governor Ed Rendell and Ohio Governor Ted Strickland.

Long Shots: former Senator Tom Daschle, former Clinton Defense Secretary William Cohen, and Bill Richardson.

Castro on Obama

He may be bedridden and deathly ill, but Fidel Castro is still railing against American Imperalism. He recently weighs in on Barack Obama's support for the Embargo...

Rawls In China

Locke, Rawls, and nationalism...in China.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/21/opinion/21bell.html?th&emc=th

The Hardline attack on Obama and Progressive Middle Eastern Policy

While in Israel, President Bush attacked diplomatic solutions, a veiled shot across Obama's bow.

"Some seem to believe we should negotiate with terrorists and radicals, as if some ingenious argument will persuade them they have been wrong all along," Bush said in remarks delivered Thursday to mark Irsael's 60th anniversary. "We have heard this foolish delusion before. As Nazi tanks crossed into Poland in 1939, an American senator declared, 'Lord, if only I could have talked to Hitler, all of this might have been avoided.'

The Hitler analogy is deeply misleading and historically inappropriate. The rejection of the possibility of communication and diplomatic overture with Iran or Hamas is strategically inept, in both realist and idealist foreign policy traditions.

Obama has been firm about his condemnation of Iran's policies and Hamas as a terrorist organization, but he's wisely argued that diplomatic engagement should not ruled out, and that it make sense to engage hostile states and entities in basic dialogue.

JStreet has taken the President to Task:
http://salsa.wiredforchange.com/o/2747/t/3184/campaign.jsp?campaign_KEY=2174

Made In Cambodia

Browsing in Banana Republic, a label on a nice cotton tee-shirt. caught my eye..."Made in Cambodia," it proudly declared.

A strangely pleasant event. When I lived in Cambodia, I played soccer with a manager at a garment. Garment jobs are considered to be excellent, well-paying jobs in Cambodia, though there is a risk of injury.

I didn't buy the tee-shirt. It was too big.

Back in New York

I flew out of Hong Kong at 6:40pm on Sunday. I arrived at 9:50pm, the same day. Neat trick, I think.

Initial observations on New York: it is cold, and people are unfriendly (again).

I ran into what game theorists would call a "coordination problem" at JFK: a stream of people waiting for taxis, but no mechanism to facilitate sharing of cabs. Customers pay more, fewer people take cabs, and the world suffers.

I think a key issue here is the cultural norm and lack of social capital (trust): New Yorkers aren't socialized to think collectively about services, and don't think to ask each other where they are going.

I wouldn't complain, but I could tell that there were people whose destination was downtown. I tried to to "ask" by talking to the people next to me in a slightly elevated tone, but no one took the hint.

In Hong Kong, a comparable ride would have cost 100 HK. My ride was 45, plus tip.

Bladerunner

Lonely Planet says that white is color of death in Hong Kong, and should be avoided in choosing attire.

Last evening was spent attending posh gallery openings in bright white pants.

I am staying with "Imp", my gregarious friend who works as an international journalist. Imp took me on a tour of gallery openings, followed by house parties, 7-eleven stops, and encounters with roving bands of French investment bankers.

Hong Kong seems enormously sophisticated after the dirt and dust in developing Phnom Penh. I encountered only young and affluent expats, many dressed in bespoke suits and elegantly cut dresses, thoroughly urban and highly international in taste and interest. The expats may be plentiful here, but everyone described the social community as tight, and Imp and his friends encountered many familiar faces during the night.

My current reference points for the city are London, San Francisco (hilly), and Chinatown in New York City. These seem inadequate, as i've never been to China.

The motherland seems very close, probably because it is.

Our final stop was a quiet party in lovely six-story walkup where a chinese woman (roughly my age) described China's need for nationalism, unreadiness for democracy, and historic claim to Tibet.

It was a nice cab ride home. Cabs are very cheap here, for some reason.

Back on Koh Chang, this time for work

I spent the week back in Thailand (Koh Chang, again) for DDD's management retreat. It's been a great year for DDD, one of enormous growth. During the year:

-we sold over $3 million in business (including a $2 million deal, our largest!),
-won the Skoll Award for Social Entrepreunership,
-seriously expanded our project management team
-solidified important partnerships with a number of international NGOs and businesses.

It was nice and productive week on Koh Chang with both managers from both North America and Asia.

Lunch in the Bangkok Airport

I had lunch at the Worker's cafeteria in the Bangkok airport with T, a classmate of mine from Wesleyan. T lives in Thailand and might be described as on the path to enlightenment.

The Workers Cafeteria is a hidden treasure in the Bangkok airport. It's located on the bottom floor, near the parking lot and path to the city buses. Upon entering, customers purchase a coupon book for 100baht. Coupons are then spent at various food stations, with waitresses circulating to remove trays, add silverware, and be generally helpful.

It's a neat place to eat. After the meal, we snacked on a tasty local fruit, and took a walk around the airport.

On the road again

After a month in New York, i'm on the road again. I'll be a 10am flight heading east.

More details to follow.

Time in New York

Things have been moving fast. Since my last entry, i've:

Attended two seders. One was led by Rabbi Ari Weiss and Rabbi Charlie Buckholtz in the East Village, and was concise, pleasant, and full of spirit. Rabbi Weiss quoted Michael Walzer and Soren Kierkegaard, and talked about happiness. According to a certain harvard professor, happy people tend to say thank you to other people, to appreciate that they have others in their life.

The other seder was at my parent's house in brooklyn. It was also on the short side, with family, nice food, and familiarity.

I have mixed reactions to being home for Passover. I am relieved to be home, safe, and among my "own people." I also feel changed, and am little dissatisfied with the even familiarity of what ought to be home. Things feel small and easy, New York is a bit dead after Southeast Asia.

Earlier this week, I went to a benefit at the New York Athletic Club for an excellent Cambodian charity. The club is a bastion of privilege and power, situated on the Southern edge of Central Park. My grandfather worked as a waiter at the club, and once told a story about receiving a $5 tip from a Cardinal.

A successful Cambodian friend tells me that his mother and family can't even begin to comprehend his job, reality, or lifestyle. He grew up in extreme rural poverty, and now lives in Phnom Penh, a full partner in a land trust.

Perhaps you can't really go home again.

Lending Money for Pigs (in Cambodia)

Ever heard of Kiva.org? They just won the Skoll Award for Social Entrepreneurship, which is the mini-nobel prize in international development (DDD won too).

My colleague S just lent a woman in Siem Reap (home of the temples of Angkor Wat, see the photos) $50 to buy pigs.

It will take the Cambodian woman 18 months to repay S. The Cambodians in and around Siem Reap are very poor, which is odd, since it's the home to some of the nicest hotels and tourism in Cambodia.

Kiva is great.... become a Micro-donor for pigs in Cambodia!

Development and Happiness

In New York Everyone around me seems so unhappy. People look miserable on the train. Very few people smile. Very little small talk. People seem content to be malcontents.

My friend T argues that New York is a miserable city, more so that other places in the US. And the weather seems awful, particularly in comparison to the U.S.

Cambodians are poor, but they seem pretty happy. They tend to be focused on the short-run, which works until things go wrong, when they get anxious.

Does economic development make people happy?

Bhutan supposedly has a GDH/GNH, an index that measures the aggregate happiness of the population.

I wonder where New York would score on the GDH.

MARTY, WE'VE GOT TO GO...

They've done it again. Custom time, from Google...

How do I use it?

Just click "Set custom time" from the Compose view. Any email you send to the past appears in the proper chronological order in your recipient's inbox. You can opt for it to show up read or unread by selecting the appropriate option.

Is there a limit to how far back I can send email?

Yes. You'll only be able to send email back until April 1, 2004, the day we launched Gmail. If we were to let you send an email from Gmail before Gmail existed, well, that would be like hanging out with your parents before you were born -- crazy talk.

How does it work?

Gmail utilizes an e-flux capacitor to resolve issues of causality (see Grandfather Paradox)."

Dith Pran is dead

Dith Pran, the Cambodian Journalist depicted in The Killing Fields film, is dead.

I re-watched the Killing Fields after living in Cambodia for a few weeks, and was struck by it's effective portrayal of the Khmer Rouge's brutality, the dynamics of an expat-Khmer relationship, and the chaos and social upheaval of violent revolution.

After watching it, I lent it to my Cambodian colleagues at DDD, one by one. After watching it, many came back with their family's story. One manager watched it with his mother, who broke into tears mid-film, and proceeded (for the first time, I believe) to share her story with her son.

I asked an older manager if he thought the film told the story well.

"It was worse in real life, he said. Much worse."

Need custom-made invitations?

The work of my friend Brynna Chernoff has been featured in a fashion blog.

Bryn's has a talent for custom-made-high-end invitations, as she's an aesthetic maven with perfect penwomanship.

I can probably get a discount for interested parties.

Reverse Culture-Shock

After a few days in New York, a few things stand out, other than the change in weather:

Informal Interactions: people are informal and friendly in Cambodia, and informal contact is constant. People on the street or on elevators don't expect contact with strangers, and such contact isn't necessarily welcomed.

Speed: Things move fast here, and the expectation is that service will be immediate. In Cambodia, "fast" food takes 10-15 minutes, and things move at a slower pace.

Focus on the world: New York is a bubble. Even working-class Cambodians (urban Cambodians) know what is going on with the American presidential primary. New Yorkers seems less concerned with what's going in Tibet than what they're having for lunch.

Subtlety. Enough said.

Mood: Taking the train to the brooklyn, I marveled at how unhappy everyone seemed. The weather must play a large role in this disparity, but culture is also important.

Leaving Phnom Penh

A final whirlwind weekend. Seeing the royal palace, saying goodbye to friends and "family" (when you are close friends, Khmer people call you their brothers and sisters), going to my first ex-pat house party, and packing.

It's a boiling day here in Phnom Penh: intense sun, a light breeze, and slower movement.

A wonderful older American couple had me over for a drink, and we watched the boats go up the river, and talked about the future.

Things look promising.

Friday Evening at the Pools

One night, two pools.

After work, the Swedes and I went to the Olympic stadium. She ran, we swam. A massive pool, only a few people in the water.

Within twenty minutes, the pool was completely empty. The light was evening blue, and bats swooped down over the surface of the water as we did slow laps.

An excellent terrace dinner followed, marvelous marinated chicken, potatoes, fine scotch, Swiss chocolate, dragon fruit, slow pace.

At 11, we took a motorcycle to a private boutique hotel and swimming club. While it was technically closed, the guard let us in and brought us towels. Under the stars and a beautiful neo-colonial villa, we swam in the small, well-lit water. The pool was surrounded by palm trees, and completely deserted.

From beneath the surface, the underwater lights tinted green. I swam towards the green light, the waters silent.

Memorable Southeast Asian Experiences

Looking back on my time in Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam, and Thailand, here are some of the moments that stand out in my memory.

-Listening to Rock-and-Roll on the back of a Speeding Motorcycle.
-Having my driver sing happy birthday to me, with creative lyrics.
-Dancing in the early hours of the morning at a Laotian Nightclub
-Finding an old Latvian Coin in a Phnom Penh Market
-Riding an Elephant down a mountain in Siem Reap in the setting sun, with the elephant driver playing a thin melody using a blade of grass.
-Lying on the prow of a boat, going up the river.
-Swimming in a deserted pool under the stars inside a gorgeous colonial villa.
-Running in the Olympic stadium, the setting sun at my back.
-Watching a fire-juggling show on a Thai Island, with paper lanterns lifting off from the beach

Returning to Phnom Penh

After a 6 and 1/2 hour bus ride, i'm back in Phnom Penh. It's quieter than Saigon, and a bit more manageable.

I've checked into my last guesthouse for this stay: I've tried six different places in Phnom Penh.

After work, I had a long dinner with my Swedish friends at Comme La Maison, a well-known French restaurant. It's a tasteful and low-key place, which was perfect after jumping back into work.

I'm happy to be back in Phnom Penh, and ambivalent about returning home to New York.

New York: Cooler weather, a (arguably) faster pace, and a return to friends and family, but also the a loss of the new life and friends i've found and made here.

Adventures in Uncle Ho's City

I've spent two days seeing the sights in Ho Chi Minh City, including:

-The Re-Unification palace. A giant estate with a palace from the 1960's. A conservative and unimpressive exterior style but a generally tasteful interior. Highlights included the exhibit on the Tet offensive (the Vietcong had a mole inside palace), the President's war bedroom, and the private Swedish furnished movie theater.

-The War Remnants Museum. Lots of American military equipment and vehicles gleaming outside in the warm SE Asian sun. Pro-photographer (extensive exhibit on war photographers, which depicted them as the unsung heros), not so positive about American Imperialism, Lyndon Johnson, or former Senator Bob Kerrey (a whole wall devoted to the special forces massacre that he led). Most horrifying was the exhibit on chemical warfare.

-The Cathedral, which was called Notre Dame on a tourist flier. The inverse of the palace, aesthetically.

-Some Buddhist/Chinese-looking pagodas. Smokey, dark, quiet. Angkor Wat sets the bar pretty high for religious sites.

Holiday in Old Saigon

-Three Markets: one with mass-produced cheap goods for locals, one with extremely overpriced items for tourists, and one small commercial trading area. These markets were less interesting places than those in Cambodia. Vietnam is more commercial, accustomed to Tourists, and seems to have higher price levels (for all things).

-The Post Office. It's was a Post Office. There was a giant painting of Uncle Ho that was nice, but otherwise unimpressive.

I had my first woman driver in SE Asia, maybe ever. She spoke one word of English (okay) and was very amiable. She had a sun hat-helmet combo that was pretty clever.

A man named Mr. Zippo sold me some coins and showed me his enormous collection of SE Asian paper money. He told me that had been in the Southern Vietnamese Army, and gave me his business card.

I find old men to be the friendliest Vietnamese I meet. I sometimes stop and talk to Moto drivers who are trying to pick up customers. They tend to be gentle and kind.

Adventures in Uncle Ho's City

I've spent two days seeing the sights in Ho Chi Minh City, including:

-The Re-Unification palace. A giant estate with a palace from the 1960's. A conservative and unimpressive exterior style but a generally tasteful interior. Highlights included the exhibit on the Tet offensive (the Vietcong had a mole inside palace), the President's war bedroom, and the private Swedish furnished movie theater.

-The War Remnants Museum. Lots of American military equipment and vehicles gleaming outside in the warm SE Asian sun. Pro-photographer (extensive exhibit on war photographers, which depicted them as the unsung heros), not so positive about American Imperialism, Lyndon Johnson, or former Senator Bob Kerrey (a whole wall devoted to the special forces massacre that he led). Most horrifying was the exhibit on chemical warfare.

-The Cathedral, which was called Notre Dame on a tourist flier. The inverse of the palace, aesthetically.

-Some Buddhist/Chinese-looking pagodas. Smokey, dark, quiet. Angkor Wat sets the bar pretty high for religious sites.

-Three Markets: one with mass-produced cheap goods for locals, one with extremely overpriced items for tourists, and one small commercial trading area. These markets were less interesting places than those in Cambodia. Vietnam is more commercial, accustomed to Tourists, and seems to have higher price levels (for all things).

-The Post Office. It's was a Post Office. There was a giant painting of Uncle Ho that was nice, but otherwise unimpressive.

I had my first woman driver in SE Asia, maybe ever. She spoke one word of English (okay) and was very amiable. She had a sun hat-helmet combo that was pretty clever.

A man named Mr. Zippo sold me some coins and showed me his enormous collection of SE Asian paper money. He told me that had been in the Southern Vietnamese Army, and gave me his business card.

I find old men to be the friendliest Vietnamese I meet. I sometimes stop and talk to Moto drivers who are trying to pick up customers.

Notes from Saigon

Saigon.

The first thing you notice is the traffic.

The streets crawling with motorcycles, only they don't crawl. It's a fast parade.

Saigon begins with a semi-traumatic taxi ride: a confused driver, an even more confused passenger, and a meter that thinks it's a rocket. Prices jump from 14000 to 20000 as we take the long route around town, and then from 114 to 150. The increase in numbers seems to be accelerating.When we finally arrive at a hotel (not the one where i'd made the reservation, as this one has no record of me) I have a slightly negative impression of the city.

After a reasoned confrontation over his amphetimized meter, the concierge tries to broker a deal, escalating into a threat of future attack by him and his friends when I leave the hotel. I conceed and fork over slightly less than $20, which is something like 300,000 dong.

In the evening, I walk around the backpacker district. It is throbbing with locals out on the street drinking beer, pairs of tourists slinking around self-conciously, and composed of countless shops, bars, restaurants, and art galleries.

Saigon is clearly a night city, more than anywhere else i've been in SE Asia.

I sit at a Kebab stand for a two hours, joined by two dutch sisters who tell me about traveling in India. They come from a city outside Amsterdam that sounds vaguely like Harlem. They are very nice: experienced but not jaded travelers.

Then I strike up a (or am strucken up with) conversation with a lively australian swimming instructor from Melbourne. He offers a colorful lecture on seducing thai women, which goes on for two hours.

We hang out with the guys who own and run the Kebab stand, the prices falling and the portions increasing. I stupidly ask about the face on the money, which is Ho Chi Minh, of course.

"Uncle Ho," I reply. The owner leans in and whispers "my brother."

I suggest that we are brothers, which makes me related to Ho Chi Minh. He likes this and we shake hands.

I pay for my kebab (15000 dong, less than a dollar), and walk back to the hotel.

Off to Vietnam!

I'm a two weeks behind in blogging, due to travel and catching up at work.

I've been back in Phnom Penh for two nights. The city which seems to be getting hotter by the minute, but it was wonderful to be back "home."

Tomorrow, I'm off to Saigon for a few days.

Going up the river

I took a boat from Battambang to Siem Reap. It's an all-day affair, since the water is low and the journey slow.

A group of 15 euro-backpackers and I sit in the back of a pickup truck for an hour as we make our way to the river. It's a bumpy, roller-coaster of a ride, and we cut through farming fields with squash and rice.

I sit in the back and talk to an Albertan insomniac who works in a Cedar mill. His main concern is globalization, and he's deeply pessimistic about the economy.

Finally, we get to the river and board a thin, dirty, covered boat.

The motor roars as we go up the muddy river, the bank of the shore exposed like an open wound. Our boat creates waves, which recede, leaving minnows (and a few big fish) flapping around on the bank.

It's a slow trip, and not too pleasant. The motor breaks down here and there.

Then it starts to rain, hard. We unroll the side flaps, but the water is everywhere.

We sit in silence, the rain poring in, the motor roaring, moving slowly up a muddy river, thinking the same thought: "why didn't I just take the bus?"

Then, the river widens and reach a floating rest stop as the rain clears.

We greatfully leave the boat and plunder the rest stop. They serve us coffee, sandwiches, cheese, candy, and pastries. We inhale the food as the sun comes out. The swiss and German take out their cigarettes and all is right in the universe.

We spend the next six hours going up the river, which is wider. There are small fishing boats all around, and we pass the fishing villages, nets, and sorting centers.

The children wave and shout at us from the bank. I lay on the prow of the boat, taking in the scene through my camera and taking pictures.

When we arrive at the Tonle Sap lake, the water is serene. Unbroken silver, with small fishing huts/stations here and there.

Someone is singing a song, to the tune of Bob Dylan's "shelter from the storm."

We're going the river, to get to old Siem Reap
the sun is hidden behind the clouds, and the water ain't so deep
passing fishing villagers in boats that look forlorn,
the rain is gone and the breeze is cool, on an uneventful morn.

the nets of fate have been cast, and the catch is reeling in
the birds are circlin' overhead to celebrate our sin,

the future's not on the river, but the past had had it's way
with the people in these dirty boats the live from day to day

we're going up the river, to get to old siem reap,
the sun is stuck behind the clouds, and the water's getting deep.

Slow Day on the River

DDD's Battambang office is located right on the river. The building was built by an influential military officer who was assassinated by Khmer Rouge paramilitaries in 1995.

I arrived at the office in the morning, and addressed the group briefly (in my limited Khmer) during the main staff meeting.

We had a nice Khmer lunch at a restaurant close to the office, during which we discussed the Peace Corps. "What is this peace corps?" my Cambodian colleagues asked. I told them about John F. Kennedy (Kennedy seems to be coming up a lot recently, Jackie O. went to Angkor Wat, and someone wanted to know why the airport in NY is called JFK) and Americans working around the globe with people from other countries. "It's sort of a diplomatic project," I explained. "To show people that Americans are nice people and want to help others."

"Ah, so that's why your troops invaded Iraq."

Well, sort of.

We all had a good laugh, but I quickly recovered my diplomatic tone, mentioning Barack Obama candidacy, opposition to the war, and alternative foreign policy.

After a motorcycle tour of town, I had a phone conversation with the Chair of Democrats Abroad in Cambodia. Turns out that he went to high school (Punahou) with "Barry" Obama, as he was then called.

After work, I had dinner with a young and energetic couple who are in Peace Corps, the first group to enter Cambodia (2007-2009). She teaches teachers, which is pretty important in Cambodia, and talked all about the the challenges of the education system post-Khmer Rouge. He teaches english, but has been getting more involved with DDD, which a huge boost for the organization.

The Corps couple told me a terrific story about a guy they know, the "Khmer Homer Simpson" and his cockfighter (rooster). The rooster woke them up one morning at 4AM, running in the room in which they were sleeping.

But they had the last laugh: the rooster later picked a fight with one of the neighborhood dogs. They weren't eating dog that night.

They told me that the rooster was extremely tasty, maybe the best chicken they'd ever had.

Later in the evening, I ordered in: noodles and beef at 11pm. 10,000r ($2.50) for two large containers of noodles, beef, fried eggs, etc. I gave the delivery guy a 1000r tip ($.25), for which he thanked me profusely. Tipping is not so customary in Cambodia.

Twenty minutes later, there was another knock on my door. It was a man who wanted 2000r. His English was poor, and my Khmer is limited, so it was a strange conversation. I think he wanted to take me to the night market to get food, and was offering to do it for 2000r.

He ended up telling me that we'd do it tommorow after I walked downstairs with him to find a translator.

No sign of him today.

When you're in Battambang, try the Frog!

Battambang is Cambodia's second largest city, a Northwestern agricultural center due to its proximity to the Thai border. The city is famous for its exported rice (to Thailand), which is the best in Cambodia. Rice is the staple of the Cambodian diet: a meal without rice isn't really a meal. The exportation of Battambang's rice leads to complaints from Phnom Penh residents, who say that they have to eat inferior rice.

View Larger Map

Battambang means "loss of stick" in Khmer, which refers to a complicated legend involving a king and his staff. The city has a population of about 250,000 (2006 estimate). Battambang is cooler and quieter than Phnom Penh, which is a nice change of pace. I'm staying in a hotel called Khemera, which has nothing do with a camera (its a derivation of Khmer, meaning Cambodian). The hotel is cheap and fancy, with wonderful high-pressure showers and free good-speed internet in your room.

After arriving last night, my DDD colleagues and I went to a local restaurant for dinner. We ate roasted frog, which was delicious. Tastes like chicken, only better. Juicy white meat, easy to eat, great legs.

Much better than tarantulas.

Off to the Provinces...

I'm off to visit DDD's office in the Battambang Province, famous for its rice and malaria. Thanks to a French-Khmer co-worker, I have a camera, and will hopefully be posting pictures.

This weekend, I will make way to Siem Reap to visit Angkor Wat, the largest religious site in the world.

In many ways, Angkor Wat is the birthplace of DDD. More on this later.

Other Cambodia: The Beach Party without the Beach

The Cambodiana Hotel is Phnom Penh's most expensive hotel, according moto drivers, who quote nightly rates as high as $4000 a night. It's a massive and imposing structure that dominates the riverside, a symbol of power and affluence.

I've only passed the Cambodiana, admiring it from the back of a motorcycle. As an ex-pat NGO worker, i'm somewhere between the "two Cambodias." I spend most of my time working and hanging out with Cambodians without political influence, wealth, and family connections. On the other hand, I sleep in a comfortable guesthouse, often dine at nice restaurants, and can freely interact with foreigners. I'm not chauffeured in a black Lexus SUV (with LEXUS smeared across the sides giant letters) or trademark Mercedes-Benz with darkened windows, but I do take a Tuk-Tuk once in a while (a co-worker once described a Tuk-Tuk as a motorcycle with chariot-welded onto the back. Padded cart is more appropriate, but it's a good image).

The Cambodians I know are either openly resentful or quietly envious of the "other Cambodia." They are also curious. Sharing this wary curiosity, I decided to join some friends in attending a giant "Beach Party" thrown at the Cambodiana.

The party took place in the Hotel's backyard, a large strip of land on the river. Hundreds (maybe thousands) of coiffed, well-dressed Cambodians sat at tables bordering the large dance floor, with a DJ playing pounding American music (almost completely up to date). A handful of foreigners worked the dance floor as I arrived, watched by the seated masses.

Later on, there were performances by a funky American band (with a Congolese guitarist wearing a pinstriped Zoot suit), Khmer dancers, and a troup of live hip-hop dancers.

Multiple floodlights sped through the air, hitting the dance floor and lighting up the evening.

At midnight, there was a raffle, which no one proceeded to win. This was mildly entertaining.

I don't know if I learned anything about Cambodia's elite. They don't seem like big dancers.

Bagel Oppurtunity

begin forwarded message:

From: Raphael Magarik
Date: February 28, 2008 11:43:12 PM EST
Subject: Bagel Opportunity

Dear Sir,
based on the information gathered from the KOSHER KITCHEN and the BAGEL industry, I have the privilege to request for your assistance to transfer the sum of $47,500,000.00 in LOX BULLION into your accounts. The above LOX resulted from an OVER-TOASTED BAGEL, executed, commissioned and paid for about five years ago by a foreign contractor operating under the name WHITEFISH. The CREAM CHEESE has been waiting for you in a suspended account at the central bank of Nigeria, Slifka bank.

If you are willing to accept the transfer, we are prepared to split the BAGEL as following: POPPY SEED for you, SESAME for us, and ONION bagels to cover incidental international expenses (bribing the Kosher Kitchen PRESIDENT). The transfer is risk free on both sides: I am a certified chef with the Slifka Cooperative Association for Meals (SCAM). Regrettably, at this time we are in need of some money to cover certain TOMATOES and ONIONS and entry permits so that you can retrieve the money. If you enclose a check for $1000, we can get this process moving
PLEASE REPLY URGENTLY
BEST REGARDS
Raphael Magarik
SCAM director for outreach

A Lucky Find

While searching through coins in the Cambodian artifacts stall at the Russian Market, I came across an old Latvian coin from 1931.

It was a strange find among dirty and rusting French Indochinese cents. The filthy American 1969 nickel makes a lot more sense, but the Latvian coin seemed bizarrely out of place.

Less than four years ago, I walked the streets of Riga, Latvia and found the Magarik family's apartment building and a few Magarik entries in in a 1929 phone book.

How did a 77-year old Latvian coin end up in a market in Phnom Penh? There must be a good story.

Any Ideas?

Obama and the American Likudniks

There is a serious effort underway to attack Barack Obama for his positions on Israel, the Israeli-Palestinian Peace Process, and American policy in the Middle East.

The main attack has focused on the endorsement of Zbigniew Brzezinski, Jimmy Carter's National Security adviser, who is not an adviser to the Obama campaign. The attacks have been mainly circulated by surrogates of the Clinton-campaign (which has happened so frequently that there would appear to be a pattern), but was even uttered by Ann Lewis, one of Senator Clinton's closest advisers.

Addressing Jewish leaders in Cleveland, Obama has responded directly to these comments:

"I think there is a strain within the pro-Israel community that says unless you adopt a unwavering pro-Likud approach to Israel that you're anti-Israel and that can't be the measure of our friendship with Israel," the Illinois senator and contender for the Democratic presidential nominee told a group of Jewish leaders in Cleveland on Sunday. "If we cannot have an honest dialogue about how do we achieve these goals, then we're not going to make progress...

Obama also said he encountered more nuanced views among Israelis than Americans.

"There was a very honest, thoughtful debate taking place inside Israel," he said. "All of you, I'm sure, have experienced this when you travel there. Understandably, because of the pressure that Israel is under, I think the U.S. pro-Israel community is sometimes a little more protective or concerned about opening up that conversation. But all I'm saying though is that actually ultimately should be our goal, to have that same clear eyed view about how we approach these issues."


Obama makes two important points that don't often appear in mainstream American political discourse:

1)One can support Israel's security without supporting hard-line Likud positions.
2)The policy debate concerning the peace process is more open in Israel than it is in the United States.

This is an extremely brave and perhaps even risky move for Obama, as it dissents from the discursive frame (the basic terms of the debate and what is considered the acceptable position) in the United States about Israel and Middle Eastern foreign policy.

But it's a good risk, and won't alienate Jewish voters: the overwhelming majority of American Jews support a peace process and a two-state solution, and don't identify with the Likud position. There is broader support for diplomatic options among the Jewish masses than among the leadership. As with a number of religious communities, the leadership is ideologically more polarized than its constituency.

Y'asher Koach, Barack Obama.

*Update*
The New York Times picks up the story....

The Obama Assassination?

The Secret Service's codename for Barack Obama is “Renegade.”

When I was canvassing in New Hampshire, a number of people told me that they liked Obama, but that they were certain that he’d be assassinated.

The New York Times picks up the story…..

Cambodia and Rwanda: Some Comparative Observations

Seeing the killing fields and the Genocide museum got me thinking about my previous experience visiting a “genocide country.” While historical comparisons of different events are often ideologically motivated and inappropriate, I couldn’t help but make some observations about my experiences viewing the evidence, impact, and effects of genocide in Rwanda and Cambodia, as well as the the conditions of the genocides. Here are a few thoughts:

1) The Rwandan genocide is still fresh (it happened in 1994), whereas the Cambodian genocide is more distant (1975-1979). This is evident from visiting the Cambodian sites, which are worn-out and well traveled. In Rwanda, the memorials are newer and less-traveled. The large memorial in Kigali is quite fancy, with colorful multi-media presentations created with the support of international donors. The exhumed bodies are fresher in Rwanda, and there are few foreign tourists.

2) In Rwanda, people don’t talk about the genocide, generally avoiding the subject. My Cambodian colleagues speak of it openly, and will talk about their families experience when asked.

A Scottish NGO director I met suggested that the time factor explains the reticence of Rwandans to talk about the genocide and their experiences. While time may play a factor, I think there are other factors at work:

-Culture: There is not a lot of trust in Rwandan society, and this was reportedly the case even before 1994. This is in stark contrast to the Buddhism of Cambodia, in which people are very open, share experiences, and ask questions freely.
-The cause and character of the killings: the Rwandan genocide was primarily ethnic, with the majority ethnic group (Hutus) slaughtering the minority (Tutsis). In Cambodia, Pol Pot’s Agrarian Maoist ideology provided the reason and impetus for the Khmer Rouge’s systematic killings. Ethnic genocide leaves a different legacy than political and socioeconomic genocide.
- The scope of the effect on society: the loss of people, skills, knowledge, and infrastructure in Cambodia seems like more of a catastrophe economically and socially than the killings in Rwanda. The Rwandan genocide occurred in close to 100 days, whereas the Khmer Rouge period was four years long. In Cambodia, the sense of “civilizational loss” is very great, and immediate. In Rwanda, many Tutsis who had left the country returned to Rwanda after the genocide.
-The political environment: Cambodians routinely criticize Prime Minister Hun Sen and the ruling Cambodian People’s Party for government for corruption (even in the press, I am told), whereas no one would dare criticize Paul Kagame in public. As far as I can tell, it is unlikely that Hutus would even dare to directly criticize him (or his government) in casual conversation with people they do not know well.
-Cambodians are accustomed to seeing and interacting with outsiders, and there has been a flood of international funding ($500 million a year). The expats in Rwanda are few and far between, and people are less comfortable talking to outsiders.

There are some similarities, as well:
-Both countries were European colonies, each with a series of poorly managed and corrupt post-colonial regimes after attaining independence.
-War and instability were present on each country’s borders (dictatorship and overthrow in Uganda and Congo versus the Vietnam War, sanctuaries for the Vietcong, and enormous American bombing), which spilled into the country.
-In both cases, there was economic hardship and mismanagement in the years preceding the genocide.
-In Cambodia and Rwanda, Invading armies from outside the country’s borders removed the genocidal regime and halted the killings/oppression of the people. However, the Vietnamese Army left, whereas the RFP has stayed (as it was made up of Tutsi exiles), and shows no intention of leaving.

Following the genocides:

In Rwanda, the government has been stable and well-managed, albeit with not a lot of free speech. There has been a fast transition to the rule of law and democratic elections, and an enormous effort to provide transitional justice through local courts (ongoing), public memorials, and an International Tribunal.

In Cambodia, the Vietnamese may have exhumed the mass graves in 1980, but the Khmer Rouge leadership has escaped justice, and some elements have been brought into the government. The aging leadership is only now being put on trial by the ECCC, a hybrid UN/Cambodian court. Pol Pot died while in Khmer Rouge captivity, whereas a number of leading perpetrators of the Rwandan genocide have been tried (or are currently on trial).

Shooting Elephants

George Orwell's Essay on Shooting an Elephant. A terrific read, although it is only somewhat relevant to my time in Asia.

Although I am certainly not a colonial ruler in Cambodia (far from it!), I do find myself slipping into a post-colonial role of authority, at times. The dynamic is hard to escape.

I am happy to say that I haven't shot any elephants.

Insightful Analysis of the Pakistani Elections

So Pakistan finally held elections, and the results are very encouraging. Here's some insightful analysis by a bright journalist with OpenDemocracy, an online British journal.

Toul Sleng: The Genocide Museum

We have a long lunch at a hotel (another Boddhi Tree) opposite Toul Sleng, the Genocide Museum. I considered moving to this hotel , but Toro advised me against it, telling me it wasn’t safe. I learned later that the locals believe the street and area to haunted by ghosts. In Khmer culture, a person does not receive a proper funeral after death becomes a ghost, and many died in Toul Sleng (14 or 20,000, depending on which side of the museum you are on).

The lunch is long, perhaps purposefully so. Finally, we enter the museum. Toul Sleng was a high school in Phnom Penh before the Khmer Rouge converted it to S-21, a military prison, interrogation and torture facility. The presentation is minimalist and effective: we walk into room after room, each with a rusty bed (no mattress) a decaying and empty box of machine gun shells, and a picture on the wall of a prisoner of the Khmer Rouge regime, post-torture.

Each room has the same set-up but with a different picture. The tiled floors in some of the rooms have dark splotches, which aren’t explained.

In another room, we walk through bulletin boards of photographs. The faces of the victims are familiar, I can almost see my Cambodian co-workers and friends on these walls.

The most effective exhibit is a display of narrative stories of Khmer Rouge soldiers, cadres (poor and illiterate people who were given political positions), and victims.

The brutality and paranoia of the regime are mind-boggling. The hubristic grandness of Pol Pot’s vision is stunning: Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge believed that they could entirely remake Cambodian society (start over from the Year Zero) and return Cambodia to a collectivist agricultural commune.

The Killing Fields

We arrive in the parking lot. A white woman is arguing loudly with a man in what sounds like Portuguese. Nearby, some attractive Scandinavian tourists sit in the shade a makeshift cafe, silently sipping cold sodas.

It costs $2 to see the killing fields, plus $10 for a guide. We opt out of the guard package. Within a hundred meters is a small, elegant, tower-like structure.

We approach it, take off our shoes to mount the steps (Asian-style), and reach the top. Inside the glass doors is a display case full of skulls. A sign reads "VICTIMS OF THE POL POT REGIME."

The skulls are small and plentiful, and there are glass rows stacked upon each other, reaching the ceiling. At the urging of an attendant selling incense, we circumnavigate the tower of skulls within the tower. The bottom layer contains clothing taken from the bodies of the victims.

I buy and light a few sticks of incense, and walk down the steps. The rest of the killing fields is unimpressive: some craters in the ground from which the bodies were exhumed (by the occupying Vietnamese Army in 1980), and a small pavilion with some commentary about the evils of the Khmer Rouge. It is dusty and hot.

Walking around, we see an old broken (head?)stone in the ground, with what looks like Japanese markings. From the Japanese occupation during World War II? A later memorial?

We decide to take a walk around the perimeter of the grounds, which encompass a small marshy pond.

The walk is helpful.

The Buddha's Birthday

Today was Meak Bochea, a Cambodian holiday honoring the birth of the Buddha. It was also my birthday.

I had the day off from work, and was feeling a bit better. So I decided to go see the Killing Fields and the Toul Sleng Genocide Museum.

Appropriate, no?

The day began with Toro (my guide, Cambodian translator, friend) singing happy birthday to me, which was priceless.

Then we're off to La Croisette (on the river) for breakfast with Z and L, two great Chicagoans traveling through the region. We talked about the news, the main news items being:

-Obama's massive victories in Wisconsin and Hawaii.
-Fidel Castro Stepping Down.

Then, we zip away to the Killing Fields, a twenty-thirty minute ride outside of Phnom Penh.

A Parasite of a differant Color

 the little bugger

My Intestinal Saga continues....

In today's news, it appears I was misdiagnosed. After a consultation and testing at a Vietnamese Clinic (the Vietnamese have socialized health care and so Cambodian doctors sometimes train in Vietnam), I've tested positive for Dysentery's younger cousin: Giardia Lamblia.

So much for dysentery. The other possibility is that after beating dysentery with a round of antibiotics, I've contracted Giardia.

Tony Lake is Jewish

Anthony Lake, Barack Obama's main foreign policy advisor recently converted to Judaism.

Here's a very entertaing clip from a speech he gave to students at the Bronfman Center at NYU: Anthony Lake on Being Jewish

As Lake recounts, Nixon wasn't too fond of him.


From the transcripts of the Nixon tapes:


Nixon: Well Tony Lake always seemed Jewish.


Haldeman: I don't think so. I wondered about that.


Nixon: He looked it.


Haldeman: I know.

Tony Lake resigned as Kissinger's assistant when Kissinger ordered the secret bombings of Cambodia.

Hmmm.

Kosher Chinese Food

Everyone wants their food to be kosher. Even the Chinese.

Apparently, Chinese manufacturers of foods and ingredients are increasingly interested in obtaining Kosher certification.

"...the surge of kosher certifications hasn't come without hiccups. Many Chinese companies were unfamiliar with the concept: One furniture maker asked for kosher certification, drawing a polite rebuff."

On a somewhat related note, I've yet to meet any Jews in Cambodia, as far as I know.