One of my least favorite phrases? “It’s a small world.” It is not a small world. Not in the slightest. Sure, there are funny coincidences that happen. (One of my personal favorites happened to be in college when I, having had a few drinks and thereby thinking that a city-wide coincidence could, in fact be possible, asked my new neighbor “Oh, you’re from Atlanta! Do you know [insert girl's name]?” His reply: “Did Carl put you up to this?” “No,” I said, “I went to high school with her for two years.” Turns out she was his ex-girlfriend and things had not ended well.) But what this story underscores is that these are small circles that we are living in. And there are hundreds and thousands of such circles in the world. Most of us limit ourselves to only a few.

Travel from Istanbul to Bangkok and you’ll find many of the same ingredients available and used– red chilis, cumin, tumeric, and fresh vegetables like eggplant and tomatoes. Sure there are plenty of ingredients that differ, but regardless with many of the same components the two cultures have come up with radically different cuisines, both excellent in their own way. Meat? Dogs are pets, dogs are food, cows are revered, cows are food, pigs are dirty, pigs are food, and the eye of the fish is a delicacy. To me it is utterly astounding that a firm belief about the way things are or should be done can be turned upsidedown in another place. What about art? Contrast the curved heads of the nagas (dragons) in Laos with the intricate patterns of Islamic art. Society? Certain tribes in Laos and China are female dominated and pre-marital sex is practical rather than taboo.

Is it a small world? What about history? For every completely unique place in the world, which are numberless, there’s a history going back generations with its cast of characters, struggles, and ways of doing things. The fact that no place is static exponentially increases the number of different experiences it is possible to have had in this world of ours. And like the differences today, there were hundreds of different problems to solve for which people came up with hundreds of different solutions.

To say the world is small, is, in my opinion, to stay safe. It is to deny that the world is a large and scary place where concepts get challenged and perspectives are shifted. Nothing is stable outside the small circles. To say the world is small is to ignore the fact that our connections with other people are often limited to other people who have had an experience similar to our own. True, people can have more than one circle, which is why it is possible to have a six-degrees-of-separation connection with someone from Botswana. But I’m assuming that the majority of these connections are made by certain individuals who have moved outside of their original circles for jobs, education, adventure or love.

In my opinion, the more circles we have, the better. The better chance we have of understanding ourselves (our own beliefs, fears, and reactions), other people (vital for business and politics), and this crazy huge planet we all call home.

It struck me in Rome’s Fumicino Airport, waiting for a flight to Istanbul. Two days before I had been in Florence, gettting up close with Florence’s famed Duomo’s (catherdral) famed dome, the largest in the world until Minnesota’s Superdome came along. When the dome was contructed, it signaled medieval Europe’s step into the Renaissance– a new era had begun of incredible artistic, architechtural, and other achievements. Only one day earlier, I had undertaken a whirlwind tour of Rome, including the Pantheon, another dome so impressive that the Germanic invaders of the Western Roman Empire left the building intact. And with only a four-hour flight, I would soon be in Istanbul, home of Hagia Sofia, once the most important building in all of Christendom. It too boasts a huge dome that appears to be floating, constructed almost 1000 years before Florence’s Duomo. To be able to see all three domes within the span of days is mind-boggling. For me, this sequence captures why I love to travel.

Travel provides the opportunity to visually learn. And I find that rather than moving through history in a compartmentalized fashion, it helps create both the visual sticking points (like domes) and the connections (Roman Empire to Byzantine Empire to Renaissance) that effective learning requires.

Actions speak louder than words and this truism holds for education as well. Travel is, I believe, the epitome of education-in-action. Not only does it provide visual sticking points, but being constantly bombarded with culture and history raises more questions than reading a page in a book (what are the differences between Hinduism and Buddhism and was there any connection between the Khmers who built Angkor Wat and the Chams in Vietnam?).

Of course, it is very easy to travel on vacation, even to a very foreign country, and still not learn a thing. The kind of travel that rewards the brain requires a little help. On Koh Pagngan, the island in Thailand that is renowned for its crazy full-moon parties, the main vacationer town is little more than a piece of land covered in shops and restaurants catering to the visitors (which often means a whole lot of bangers and mash) and cafes playing the latest movie releases. I’m sure it’s a delightful place to relax– but even more so is the herbal sauna at the wat between the port and the town. It was my first Southeast Asian herbal sauna experience and as I learned over the next month in Thailand and Laos, they are a common part of the culture and many women go there on a regular basis.

To travel is to see and experience history and cultures– the biggest and best social studies classroom in the world. So, if you’re looking to escape the cold weather, may I suggest taking a gander at new (warm!) country and seeing what you learn?

This is not the end! There should be at least one more post coming…

Throughout Southeast Asia the reminders of war are everywhere.  Bomb casings in Laos are used as household decorations (railings and such).  In Cambodia, one cannot go a day without seeing a person missing a limb.  Vietnamese sites of interest usually touch on one of the wars fought here in the last century.  And throughout the region signs warn visitors not to stray from well-trod paths–mines and unexploded ordanance litter the countryside.  The cause of these reminders of tragedy?  In many cases, the not-so-Cold War.

This blog doesn’t contain anything that hasn’t been written before.  But after spending the last month and a half in a state of semi-shame having seen the disasterous effects of my country’s policy, I feel compelled to recount this history. Not to do so seems foolish, and continues the opening of Pandora’s boxes of unintended consequences.

Relative Temperature: A Brief History of the Cold War

The term “the Cold War” was coined to describe the relations between the U.S and the U.S.S.R. Because the two countries never had direct military engagement, despite a large-scale military buildup, the war footing between the two was best described as cold. However, how cold that war was really depends on who you’re talking to, as hot proxy battles and wars were fought around the globe. These wars were the result of mis-employing political scientist George Kennan’s strategy of containment. The goal of containment, as put forth by Kennan, was to keep Communism pent up in its borders. Unfortunately, this wasn’t such a tidy concept as the war in Vietnam shows. The lines between communism and nationalism became blurred as many civilians preferred those fighting for communism to those colonial-like invaders who wanted to fight for their (multi-meaning pronoun use) freedom.

A Deadly Game of Dominoes

As the logic went, if one country in Southeast Asia fell to Communism, they would all fall–the so-called domino effect.  The focal point of this conflict became Vietnam.  Given Vietnams’ geography, which is a thin piece of land stretching North-South along both Laos’ and Cambodia’s Eastern border, it is inevitable, though not publicized, that these countries would become involved. 

To be fair, both the U.S. and the People’s Liberation Armed Forces (PLAF; Viet Cong) used both Laos and Cambodia as a side-show to the war.  For the PLAF, these countries were a handy route (the Ho Chi Minh Trail) from the North of Vietnam, where the Viet Cong ruled, to the South, where the U.S. was backing an anti-communist government.  Of course, the U.S. needed to sever these crucial supply lines, as well as the support that PLAF was giving to indigenous communists in Laos, and what better way than a bombing campaign.

And what a campaign it was.   Between 1964 and 1973, the number of bombs dropped in Laos during what has been dubbed “The Secret War” (it had to be. The U.S. helped develop the 1954 Geneva Accords respecting Laos’ neutrality) was roughly 3 million tons, the heaviest U.S. led bombing since WWII.   Laos is about 80% agrarian with sticky rice being a dietary staple. The bombs that riddled the countryside then, and still now, made going to work a dangerous proposition.  Over 350,000 civilians are thought to have been killed by the U.S. bombing campaign in those 7 years. That’s over 130 people per day, every day, for seven years out of a population of only 3 million. And the unexploded bombs continue to kill even today.

The Devil You Know

In Cambodia, similar bombing campaigns along the southern portion of the Ho Chi Minh Trail led to social and political upheaval. People angered by this seemingly inexplicable bloodshed and frustrated with the corrupt government of the U.S. backed Lon Nol, who was allowing the bombing (in 1965 the then King Sihanouk had allowed the North Vietnamese to establish bases and use Cambodia for supplies, provoking the U.S. bombing), walked into the open arms of the Khmer Rouge, an arm of Cambodia’s Communist party. Just as in Vietnam, political forces were more than communist vs anti-communist. In both countries the communist party doubled as a national party, one that was attractive because it was home-grown and against the so-called new colonial invaders. Who would you support?  A corrupt government backed by the U.S. who is bombing your country or communists preaching equality and national pride with the backing of your revered, deposed king?  Sadly, Cambodia, a country which desparetely wanted to remain neutral after gaining its independence from France in 1965 ended up having to chose between a domestic devil and a foreign one.  Unfortunately, the former won when the U.S. gave up in 1973, and genocide ensued killing between 1 and 2 million Cambodians. During the dropping of 2,756,941 tons of bombs, an estimated 150,000 people were killed.

Crystal Balls and Collateral Damage

All told, the U.S. escapades in Southeast Asia came at the cost of about 60,000 U.S. lives and roughly 2 million Laotion, Cambodian and Vietnamese lives (double that if you include the victims of the genocide. U.S. bombing in Cambodia contributed to the Khmer Rouge coming to power).  We have no way of really knowing what would have happened had the U.S. not pursued its policy of containment to such a degree. However, all signs point to the fact that neither China nor the U.S.S.R. were out for world domination. Difficult though that may have been to see at the time, it seems implausible that the worst-case scenario envisioned by politicians could have been any worse than the death and destruction that the wars in Southeast Asia brought at the risk of nuclear war.

And for what?  All three countries experienced communist governments after the U.S. left in the early ’70’s.  And the U.S. continued on, despite containment having not worked.

Lingering Heat

The fighting in Southeast Asia wasn’t the only hot part of the Cold War. Afghanistan, for example, was the U.S.S.R’s “Vietnam.” While the U.S. didn’t have official troops there, we were supporting and funding those fighting against the Soviets. And just to prove that history isn’t so tidy, those fighting against the Soviets included none other than Osama bin Laden.

Too often, it seems, we settle for our information in easily digested pieces. It’s what keeps the Vietnam War only in Vietnam for most people. It’s what ends the Cold War in 1989 and restarts a chapter in history in 2001. This compartmentalization is a dangerous habit for it seems to overlook connections and consequences. While the Cold War did not cause the rise of bin Laden, it did create the conditions for him to train and connect with other idealist Islamists. Just as the Vietnam War leaked into neighboring countries, so too does history leak from one era to the next, often with unforeseen consequences.

Much has been made about Vietnam’s recent economic growth spurt (a whopping 7.4% on average over the last five years) and its admission into the World Trade Organization last November–big steps for a developing country.  Ever since the 1990’s, when Vietnam opened its borders to increased trade, (the U.S. and Vietnam signed an open trade agreement in 2000) the country’s economic situation has been on the up and up.  In fact, the largest importer of Vietnamese goods is the U.S.  Conversely, the U.S. has exported many of its products to Vietnam,  so that now Vietnamese can also enjoy Oreos, Pepsi, and Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Yep, Kentucky’s own export has made great inroads in the era of economic freedom in Vietnam.  Colonel Sander’s face grins down from many a sign in Saigon.

What hasn’t made the news is the political liberalization of Vietnam.  In fact, when I do a google search for ’political liberalization Vietnam’ there is very little that I find, and even less that I can access.  Two blogs that come up on google’s top ten have not opened in any of the cities I’ve tried (Curious if one can outside the country or if they are just dead sites.  http://vietpundit.blogspot.com and www.queme.net/eng/ Please let me know what they say if you can access them).  I have been unable to access Human Rights Watch or other such sites as well.

Until recently, Vietnam’s socialist government kept close tabs on its citizens, prohibiting them from staying in hotels, and requiring them to seek permission to meet with a foreigner.  I’m under the impression that things have changed a lot (though I have no basis for that thought).  What gives me pause, however, is the lack of access to information about life in Socialist Vietnam and the knowledge that people advocating for democracy are subject to arrest (see the link to the article on the right about an ethnic Vietnamese U.S. citizen’s return to his birth country).

Additionally, as an independent tourist in Vietnam, I feel surprisingly like I am part of a very controlled tour group.  This is because most tourism is done through tour companies, relegating travelers to tourist buses as opposed to the public transport that locals use.  While this happens in other places (Thailand has a rather polished system to bus tourists from Bangkok to the beaches that involves lots of stickers) the degree to which it happens here is, well, stifling.  To be fair, I haven’t tried very hard to find a public bus, but the few inquiries I’ve made have been neatly segued into a sale for a tourist bus ticket.  Furthermore, the limited number of destinations keeps tourists neatly corralled in a few cities and pleasant beach towns.

So as Colonel Sanders makes in-roads in Vietnam, let’s hope the hands-off economic policy that has welcomed him brings with it a hands-off attitude to society and politics.

FYI– I arrived back in the U.S. last night, having waited to publish this post from outside the country (excessively precautious, but I didn’t want to deal with either a) being detained or, more importantly b) somehow losing my post to the censors!). Sure enough, I can access site related to Vietnam’s political scene outside of the country.

On another note, just because the adventure is over doesn’t mean that the writing is. I have a backlog of posts in my head and will continue writing at least a few more. I hope that you’ll keep reading.

I admit it.  I stereotype people on occasion.  Ed can probably write all about my irrational disdain for backpackers (and why I have proudly taken my wheelie throughout Southeast Asia’s often unpaved roads).  Well, most stereotypes get busted and one that surprisingly did on this trip was my firm belief that Asians, as a group, every single one of them, are thin.  Sure, most are, but much to my surprise I’ve seen dozens of people both on the street and tourists like myself who are on the heavier side, adults and children alike.  I suppose it’s not a surprise, given the prevalence of processed foods and candy.  Oreos are everywhere!

Given that obesity has taken a main position in the pantheon of health problems in the U.S., contributing to increases in Type II Diabetes, heart problems, and life-style difficulties, I thought I would take a look at how this issue is affecting this region and the world at large.

While my stereotype of the small, thin Asian isn’t totally off base– I have a hard time shopping in many of the stores here–there is a growing weight problem in some of these countries, seemingly in the more affluent ones (with access to high-fat/calorie, low nutrition foods).  According to wrongdiagnosis.com, roughly 12,000,000 people from Vietnam’s 82,700,000 population are overweight.  That’s a pretty heavy statistic!  Similarly in Thailand, over 10% of the population is overweight.  Of course, that doesn’t come close to America’s whopping 25% obesity rate.

But guess what?  Contrary to popular belief, the U.S. is not the most obese country in the world.  According to The Economist, the U.S. ranks #5 for men and #8 for women in terms of percentage of population that are obese.  The ones who tip the scale? Lebanon, Qatar, Kuwait and Panama for men and Qatar, Saudi Arabia, West Bank and Gaza, Lebanon, Panama, Albania, and Bahrain for the women.  There’s something in the Middle Eastern cooking… or lifestyle.

The spread of obesity is clearly a global problem, especially as the trappings of the sedentary lifestyle keep more people behind the wheels of a car or moto, or at a desk rather than walking, cycling, and working outdoors.  Of even greater concern is the fact that obesity is not unique to developed countries.  As I have seen, many developing countries suffer from obesity, with the cause being easy access to cheap high fat/calorie and low-nutrient rich food.

So while the U.S. certainly isn’t winning any awards for thinness, neither is the rest of the world– probably to everyone’s detriment.  It’s just so hard to choose a banana when those Oreos look so damn good.

http://www.wrongdiagnosis.com/o/obesity/stats-country.htm

http://archives.cnn.com/2000/HEALTH/diet.fitness/01/12/world.obesity/  

http://www.who.int/dietphysicalactivity/publications/facts/obesity/en/

There are countless books regarding genocide from non-fiction, to historical fiction, and memoirs.  Here are a few suggestions of ones that I’ve read recently regarding Cambodia, as well as a few worthy others.

If you’re in the market to buy a book, might I encourage you to support an independent bookstore?   The extra couple of dollars seems a small price to pay to keep a little originality around.  Not only do they provide a unique space, but unlike many chains, they do not sell prime retail space to publishers wanting to promote certain books.  Plus, I think my mother and sister have a great bookstore!  http://www.wherethesidewalkends.booksense.com

Memoirs About Khmer Rouge

When Broken Glass Floats; Chanrithy Him

Stay Alive, My Son; Pin Yathay

Children of Cambodia’s Killing Fields: Memoirs by Survivors; Dith Pran, Kim DePaul

First They Killed My Father: A Daughter of Cambodia Remembers; Loung Ung

Memoirs/Accouts of Other Genocides

Black Dog of Fate; Peter Balakian (Armenian Genocide)

We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families; Philip Gourevitch (Rwandan Genocide)

Non-Fiction

A Problem From Hell: America and the Age of Genocide; Samantha Power

Humanity: A Moral History of the Twentieth Century; Jonathan Glover

One of the bigger news stories a couple of weeks ago was the execution of Saddam Hussein.  From what I gleaned from the coverage, however, the focus was more on the timing of his execution than on the crimes he committed to warrant a premature death.   Sadly, few perpetrators of the heinous crime of genocide ever stand trial.  This is  the case in Cambodia, where in the aftermath of the Khmer Rouge many of those responsible for the genocide were eventually incorporated into the government, creating a bitter peace that my tour guide, Baht, describes as “half-finished.”

With the ousting of the Khmer Rouge by Vietnamese troops in 1979, the Khmer Rouge core regrouped in Western Cambodia and continued attacks throughout the 80’s and 90’s.  Wanting an end to the fighting through peaceful elections, the United Nations’ Transitional Authority in Cambodia (UNTAC) oversaw well-behaved elections in 1993.   Though the elections were peaceful, the results weren’t pleasing to the Cambodian People’s Party (CPP- a party that has its history in the old Communist party and which counts many former Khmer Rouge as members.  It is headed by Hun Sen, a former Khmer Rouge soldier who defected to Vietnam in 1977 after the Khmer Rouge began purging its ranks).

Like a spoiled child, the CPP threatened secession until it was agreed that there would be two Prime Ministers, of which Hun Sen was one.  UNTAC declared the operation a success and left Cambodia to a half-formed peace, where the bad guys not only went unpunished, but were given power as well.

History cannot teach any lessons in Cambodia today.  As Baht said (paraphrased), “what do I tell my kids?  They know my stories, but that is all.  I cannot tell them about what happened to the Khmer Rouge because maybe they will think ‘if I do bad things, get power, make money, I will not get punished.’  They cannot learn from what happened to the Khmer Rouge.”  And since the CPP has had power, according to Baht, Cambodia’s painful recent history has been glossed over in school.

Not only is history silent, but the mourning is as well.  Prior to 1993 (when the CPP was incorporated into the government), the Cambodian people would celebrate “Angry Day” on the 20th of May (?).  On this day, people would go to the local killing field where they would tell their stories and their loved ones’ stories,  cry together, and burn effigies of Pol Pot, Ieng Sary and the other Khmer Rouge top leaders.  (I’ve also heard that sometimes people burned an effigy of Cambodia’s beloved King Sihanouk whose own political machinations helped pave the way for the Khmer Rouge.)  Similarly muted are celebrations on January 7th, known as Victory Over the Genocide Day and which mark the day the Vietnamese entered Cambodia and sent the Khmer Rouge fleeing.

This peace is half-finished, says Baht.  Not only is it half-finished for Cambodians, but the rest of the world should consider it incomplete as well.  It is an abomination that top Khmer Rouge leaders should have ever been allowed inside the United Nations as legitimate politicians (please note, I need to fact check this, but I believe I read it in Samantha Power’s A Problem From Hell: America and the Age of Genocide).   Though there is now a joint UN-Cambodian Government court established to try Khmer Rouge criminals set to begin this year, it seems to me to be a bit compromised given that the current Prime Minister, Hun Sen, has a long and complicated relationship with the Khmer Rouge.

So while the news discusses the politics and timing of Saddam’s execution (which are undoubtedly important), I prefer to focus on his crimes in the first place.  When some genocide masterminds such as Pol Pot and Slobodan Milosovic get to die in their sleep, it is justifying to know that at least one has received his due.

For the Cambodians, however, the wait continues.

Baht is one of the moto(rcycle) drivers Ed and I had for a day trip around Battambang, a small town (but Cambodia’s second largest city) in Western Cambodia. Baht is about 38, though he looks no older than 25. While showing us around Wat Phnom Sampeau, site of one of the local killing fields in Khmer Rouge days, Baht shared with us some of his memories during the four years of brutal Khmer Rouge rule, 1975-1979.

Baht’s family was separated, he going to work in one of the children’s camps, his older sisters going to other camps, and his older brother in a third. Baht would often sneak away to his mother, but she was often out working in the rice fields. Because the Khmer (Cambodian) people were fed only a cup or two of watery rice per day, Baht and his cousin took some eggs from one of the temples that was being used as a barn. When the old monk in charge of the temple caught them and asked what they were doing, Baht and his cousin lied. Though the monk could tell they were lying, according to Baht, he just told them to quickly run away, which they did. (Under Khmer Rouge rule, monks were either killed or forced to disrobe and take on duties in the communities, as this one did, though apparently without losing his goodwill.)

Another time, Baht saw an old man who had been tied up, wearing nothing but shorts and left so the ants would bite him, a painful punishment especially for someone in an already weakened state. The old man called out to Baht, promising him bananas if he untied him, which Baht did, allowing the old man to run away. When the Khmer Rouge leader asked the children who had untied the old man, all the kids dutifully pointed to Baht. The leader, or teacher, as Baht called him, grabbed Baht and went on a search for the old man, saying, “if we don’t find him, I’ll kill you instead.” Fortunately for Baht they found the old man, who sadly was not so lucky.

At one point, Baht’s mother worked in the kitchen and so was able to sneak him some extra ears of corn which he ran away with to eat in secret. When he was caught with the corn, he was tied to a post and left there all day and overnight as an example to the other children. His mother came to find him in the morning and asked why he was being punished. The “teacher” berated Baht for “ruining the revolution” by stealing from Angka (the Khmer Rouge organization). Baht’s mother was unable to take the blame for giving her son corn because punishment for adults was far more severe than for children (she could have been killed). Fortunately Baht knew this and kept silent.

Baht’s older brother, who was about 17, died under the Khmer Rouge rule, supposedly by drowning. But, as Baht pointed out, learning about the death through hearsay leaves a certain amount of room for error.

After the Vietnamese brought about the fall of the Khmer Rouge in 1979, Baht was reunited with his mother and one sister. For many years it was just the three of them, his other sisters missing due either to the constant moving of people during the Khmer Rouge, malnutrition, or brutality. His mother cried every day for her lost daughters, leading to premature blindness, Baht says. One day, however, one of his sisters found them. This repeated itself several times over the next several years until the rest of his family, save his deceased brother, was reunited. (Because Baht’s family was originally from a village, which was regarded as a virtue under the Khmer Rouge, they fared much better than the city people, who were forced to leave the cities and work in the villages under harsher circumstances.)

Baht told his stories in a matter-of-fact manner, and often with a smile. As we were exiting one of the killing caves, Baht said that he is a Buddhist and because of this he is peaceful. However, he continued, if he ever saw his “teacher” again, he would kill him. Interestingly enough, this isn’t entirely far-fetched. Many of the Khmer Rouge cadres not only survived the regime (which killed many of its own people) but escaped punishment in the aftermath as well, leading to a half-formed peace today. More on this in a future blog…

Taking Lonely Planet’s suggestion, Ed and I opted for the scenic boat travel between Siem Reap and Battambang in Cambodia (described as a 3-8 hour journey, but was, in reality, more like 9 or 10…).  In spite of the cramped quarters on the roof (yes, roof) of the boat in the hot sun, I am glad of the choice because not only was it scenic with wildlife and protected wetlands, but it provided a glimpse into a rural lifestyle seemingly one step away from Kevin Costner.

At intervals along the slow-moving river, we would pass through a village, a floating village.  Sometimes there were riverbanks in sight, sometimes nothing but wetlands extending on to the horizon.  These floating villages exist almost entirely on water, replete with floating schools, restaurants, and markets (one school was donated by UNICEF, as noted on its outside.  All those Halloweens collecting money for UNICEF weren’t for naught!).  Villagers needing a ride further along the river would row up to the boat and deposit goods or themselves, or in one case, what seemed to be a message to pass along down the road.  Some of these towns were water-land hybrids, at least now in the dry season.  At the edge of one such hybrid town a group of teens with a rather large set of speakers were having a mid-day dance party under a house perched high on stilts.

Though charming to look at, these villages and their people have an interesting relationship with the water on which they live.  The river is multi-purpose, used for fishing, bathing, drinking, and laundering–and as a repository for litter and human waste.  That the latter uses contradict the former doesn’t seem to be a concern to the people, even given the river’s slow pace.  (The man sitting next to me on the boat finished his to-go food and threw the styrofoam container right into the river, while below-deck a woman scooped water out to give to her child.  All this, after a rest stop where the bathrooms were nothing more than a hole to the water below.) 

In general, this behavior seems to be keeping with a common theme I’ve noticed– more in some countries than others–that of a seeming disconnect between action and consequence (at least in some areas that register with me).  Mainly this pertains to litter, where many seem to take the view that once you throw it away it’s gone, regardless of where.  However, it can also be applied to far more serious issues.  Cambodia has the highest HIV infection rate in Asia, and though it has dropped considerably since the start of both an ad campaign advocating condom use and a law requiring all sex workers to insist on condom use, there may still be lurking attitudes that what one does in the present has no connection with the future, or that one can invent a more pleasing connection.  As Geoff Manthey, former UNAIDS Program Advisor in Cambodia said, “We are still battling against a sense of invincibility and misconceptions. For instance, some believe that if you have sex with a virgin, you will be cured of the (HIV) infection.” 

Hopefully this government law will do much to affect not only the HIV infection rate, but also the Cambodian notion of action and consequence as it applies to littering and hygiene on its lived-on waterways.  But it’s a slow-moving river…

One of the highlights of many visitors’ trips to Laos, Thailand, or other Southeast Asian countries is the opportunity to visit one of the local tribes. These opportunities range from a 10-minute pass-through to an overnight stay as part of a trek organized by tour companies ranging from the eco-conscious to the profit-hungry. Knowing full well that these visits have the potential to be both a trip to the human zoo in addition to an interesting cultural exchange, Ed and I signed up for a two-day trek through several villages with an overnight stay in one. The trek we chose was a new one–we were only the third group to go. In my mind, this might be better fodder for cultural exchange.

The village we stayed in, Ban Sida, is one of two Sida (ethnic group) villages in Laos. It is accessible only by foot– a good couple of hours from Luang Namtha, the provincial capital of the eponymous province (province population roughly 140,000!). We entered Ban Sida through fluorescent green rice fields punctuated by brown bamboo huts on stilts, passing along the way Sida women soundlessly wading through the small river gathering river weed to eat (it’s quite good, fried with garlic and accompanied with beer!). Up a hill, over a bridge consisting of a wooden plank, and into the village, colored in various shades of brown.

We visited the school and the rice stores, watched/participated in takraw (like volleyball) and stayed in the home of one of the chiefs with his wife and four kids. We learned that the town is essentially based on subsistence farming, growing enough rice to live on and supplementing their diet with plants gathered from the forest and their livestock (unbearably, this includes dogs in addition to pork and chicken). A few of the wealthier houses had tin roofs and one lightbulb. None had running water– the closest thing to running water was the pump in the center of the village, cold water only. Villagers wore a range of clothes, from local styles, to imported pants and shirts, all hard to keep clean in the dirt and dust. Many kids were in bare feet, a sharp contrast to my feet that were double-swathed in SmartWool socks.

The chief (one of three in the village) was beyond hospitable. He cooked dinner for us and ate with us, answering questions and asking a few of his own to the group (where are we from? married or single? children?). While our interaction with the village was limited mainly to the chief, due to translation difficulties (all tribes have their own language, though some know Lao), the villagers treated us with a mixture of blank curiosity (stares) and friendliness, as we did in return.

In my opinion, this type of tourism brings with it odd feelings. To its credit, it brings vital income to the villages, who are keen to access the amenities of modern life and provides for cultural meeting points between two equally curious cultures. Done right, it allows visitors to put their own lifestyle and abilities in context (who of us would be able to survive in the forest?) and give the villagers exposure to ideas and income beyond their tiny boundaries (many use the money to buy blankets as well as VCD players to watch movies).

However, this type of tourism seems unsustainable. Visitors will continue to demand an authentic tribal experience and villagers will pursue their quest to move on up. As a result these visits have the potential to devolve into cookie-cutter commercial ventures requiring villagers to be “authentic” in order to make the money and lifestyle that could move them beyond being a human curiosity, frustrating the anthropologically curious tourist in the process.