I wake up refreshed and hungry, ravishing hungry. Run downstairs and gulp down a greasy omelet with the freshest baguette ever. All the grease and carbs will come in handy later since we’ve got a jam-packed day ahead of us.
First stop at the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda. The buildings are very beautiful but in my mind I find myself comparing it to its namesake in Bangkok. Not good! The Cambodians and Thai’s don’t exactly sit around the same campfire so I keep my thoughts to myself and decide to take pictures. The place is unbelievably easy on the eyes. Before I know it I’ve taken loads of pictures. Our guide rattles through another painful monologue and then it’s time to head back to our bus.
Quick stop at CCF1 (Cambodian Children Fund’s first centre) to pick up Ally who will guide us through Stoeng Meanchey. As many as 85% of the children at CCF come from this municipal rubbish dump (Stoeng Meanchey).
I smell the dump before I can see it. When it does come into view I see a vast landscape layered with every imaginable kind of waste. The air is thick and heavy and foul – very foul. This wretched place is offensive to all senses. Camaraderie kicks in as we nervously pass one another cans of insecticide. In vain I try to keep a poker face. We haven’t even left the bus yet and disgust is clearly written all over our faces.
We must be quite a sight with Ally confidently leading the way toward the trucks through gluey muck and the rest of us trudging behind her in a cloud of DEET.
As we get closer one of the trucks pull away revealing people picking and hacking at whatever the truck just dumped. Ally tells us that people come here searching for recyclables to sell. Apparently a good day’s booty can sell for 50 US cents. Taking a closer look I notice children searching through the waste too. Little ones! They can’t be a day older than 5 or 6 years.
I look out over the horizon and spot tiny shacks. A small village lodged between mounds of refuse. We walk past a lady selling food just off the dumping area. She’s got the perfect business location I think to myself - everyone gets hungry. We reach the village and are met by children shouting their friendly greetings. They are amiable despite the poor conditions they live in and so refreshing compared to Hong Kong children? I make a mental note to stop comparing people.
We reach the bus and head out for lunch. Our bus smells terrible inside. No surprise judging by all the muck and worse still stuck on our shoes…
After lunch, a fresh bus takes us an hour west of Phnom Penh to Oudong. It was the capital of Cambodia from the early 17th century until 1866. It starts raining and what looks like only a drizzle turns into a downpour. Ducking under umbrellas we climb the 509 steps to the temples and impressive stupas and the view over the plain is magnificent.
History states that this beautiful place was first bombed by die Americans during the Vietnam War and then the Khmer Rouge continued the destruction. Sad.
We head back towards the city and I’m thinking about the paradox that Cambodia is. Today I’ve experienced the beauty of the Royal Palace and Oudong vs. the squalidness of the rubbish dump. What a fascinating place Cambodia is turning out to be.
We eventually reach Phnom Penh and then CCF1.
I was looking forward to return to CCF1 to see just how much good care; education and a safe environment can affect a child from Stoeng Meanchey?
CCF1 has a cool rooftop cultural centre where the children get together every evening. The idea is to teach them what the Polpot regime tried to wipe out. Their cultural heritage. We are a tad late so by the time we reach the rooftop the kids are already in a circle warming up for the evening’s program. Tonight they practice drama. Wow, these kids are blossoming and look so well adjusted. I can’t help but admire the good work the CCF is doing.
I sit on a chair outside the circle when a boy with the brightest smile ever invites me to sit next to him. In two ticks I’m on the floor. I am so in awe of this boy that I forget to ask his name. I’ll call him “my friend” for now.
“My friend” happily translates whatever is happening in the circle to me as groups of two or three kids“go on stage” and act out their story. Some of the stories are humorous but many of the little dramas unfolding on stage are based on hurt, death, murder etc. It is during a gripping ghost story that “my friend” leans over to me and confidently tells me that we are going to go on stage too. “We” meaning him and me. My first instinct is to politely decline of course but he is incredibly convincing. Next moment we are in the circle and he is telling the audience what our improv will be about, all in Khmer…
I vaguely recall him telling me the gist of the story but the rest is an uncomfortable blank. I feel my ears turning red. There is a pregnant silence and anticipating stares. I guess I need to say something…
Here is a breakdown of our “smoking kills” improv.
I catch my son smoking. I am not happy about him puffing away and try to grab the ciggies from him. This results in a tussle and me stomping on the offensive items. My son is distraught and he grabs a knife and plunges it deep into his stomach. In typical Shakespearian fashion he dies on my lap while I embrace him only for me to grab the knife and end my life as well.
Of course I cannot resist the temptation to fall backwards dying while still clutching my son to my chest. Being overly enthusiastic (as usual) I bang my head on the floorboard in the process. The audience just laps it up. We are stars!
We leave for our Hotel touched by these kids happiness and joie de vivre. It reminds me of what Helen Keller said: “The world is full of suffering, it is also full of overcoming it.”
Please check out the CCF’s website. There is a project page showing how Pepy is involved with them.
www.cambodianchildrensfund.org
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