I learn to care more about the things and people of importance in my life. I care about the poor kids who have no pants, the sex worker who has no other choice, the corrupted who lost their way, and the hopeless who feel that they cannot change the world they see. I care for the people who spoke my name this one special year and helped me remember what my name means. I care for the people I laughed with, people I hugged, and people who gave me time. I care for the people who had taken advantage of me and the people who treated me with honesty. They are still people. I care for the people who I had not met and the people who I made friends.

I care for the man who cut me the fresh coconut juice. I care for the cyclo man who took me to Central Market. I care for the police officer that wanted bribe money. I care for the politician who wanted to shoot me. I care for the rich Cambodian kids who looked at me when I walk into their place; out of place. I care for the politicians whose corruption money helped him buy his Landcruiser(s). I care for the lady who sells me sweet mango and coconut rice. I care for Auntie who smiles at me every time I order rice and eggs. I care for the people who look and stare at an out of place person in an out of place country.

I care for Chariya who gave me hope and support for the year. I care for my ballerina dancer who left with memories of love. I care for Socheta who brought me a chocolate roll every time it was available. I care for Casmir who spent New Years with me. I care for Brother T who took me home when no one else did. I care for Kaa who gave me a smile every time we bargained for a mosquito net. I care for Kanal, for whom I lost his number and the bowl of noodles we both shared. I care for Bong Phany and Bong Long for the long trips to the countryside and constant word of guidance, laughter, and who made me feel like I was their brother. I care for Luk Kru and Nek Kru would never lost their humor even though most times, things were not funny. I thank my Cambodia Mother, Aunties, and Uncles who adopted me and welcomed me with hospitality. I care for my sugar cane girls who always remember to give me sugar cane juice without orange squeeze. I care for the orphan kids who I sit with and argue about WWE on the waterfront. I care for Nina and our made up T-shirt business. I care for Sarah Dee and Sarah Tee who were real friends to me and but who I failed to meet our friendship with expectations. I care for Noy, my sexy beast that always matches my laughter with hers. I feel for my motop brother who name I forgot that gave me a ride one day even though I had no money. I care for Rina’s DVD shop for keeping me busy with movies at night. I care for Sergio for always greeting me every time I see him. I care for Bong at the FCC who always smiles when we shook hands. I care for my fried banana lady who fries the best bananas in Phnom Penh. I care for the T&Coffee staff that always remembered when I shaved or had my hair cut. I care for the people in the countryside who I know one day life will be better. I especially care for my kids – my Tonle Bassac Kids who I come to call young brothers and sisters. I think about my fellow Fulbrights who speak condescendingly towards my work, that I am not doing nothing but I care for the laughs from them knowing that I have one of the greatest treasure in the world. I know of things they didn’t experienced, how to sit, eat, sleep, dance, smile, laugh, cry, sing, travel with kids who do not know nothing about what a Fulbright is. I care for the pretension of them towards Cambodia because I have enough of my time here to write a book that people I know will choose to read. I care for their pleasure on the decision making process of which expat restaurant or making happy hour but I make happy hour of enjoying my watching of my young brothers and sisters dancing. If my other Fulbrights only saw what I understood this year, then they would understand why I took this Fulbright experience to Cambodia not as resume builder, free vacation for 10 months, or a stepping-stone to grad school, but as an understanding to people in the world. I think deeply if their Fulbright really brought them a sense of Cambodia like it did to me but then I do not know what they talked about during happy hour, but I care to know what I experienced during mine time of happy hour.

PS: I will leave you with a 12 min edit of my video, if you want a copy and can’t wait for the full upload on the web, you can email me. Also some there some more items to boot. Photo credits go to Rany and Jenny.

I would like to finally thank Fulbright, mtvU, IIE, State Department, and my new and old family and friends for giving me this year. Thank You.

Here is a Transcript of the video:

1. Kids singing

I asked the kids to sing me a song, they started but then I stopped them and joked with them on how they are not doing the motion. They laughed and then told me I had to give them more money. Then we restarted the song which then lead in to the start of the teaser.

2. It starts with the first interviewee talking about the importance of this music by the deceased artist reveals a cambodian connection to culture and revealing of cambodian life. Then it continue to the next interviewee talking about how he remembers growing up how his mom and him used to listen to the music and how his granddad will save up money to buy batteries to listen put in the radio

3. Next, one of my kids I interviewed sings me a very moving classic song. Just the acapella reachs to the scope of the lyrics

4. Cuts to a local Khmer artist who is talking about the Khmer Rouge and how the people upon the return were so emotional upon hearing the music for the very first time

5. The founder of Cambodian Living Arts is talking about how these artist were called “legends” and then talk about the far reaching of the music. It then continues to next person who is talking about music preservations of NGOs to preserve the arts and culture of Cambodia.

6. It finishes with the process of a recent CD making efforts in cambodia

Let’s do the math: if you can relate to the following entry, then I guess we have something in common. If not, do not feel left out. I still love you like my brother, sisters, father, mother– like my family.

Here are some random things to think about when you are sitting there thinking about your life, how far you have traveled, how much you have accomplished, and how there are those the things that you wish you had done less of.

1. Khmer people love to go the park (if you grew up in America and are remotely Khmer, then you know what I am talking about). We go to the park whenever it is hot and treat it like a family gathering: Always looking to buy those small, dirty clams and eat them at home with tamarind garlic sauce. If not, then we’re probably buying bok-la-hung from the Laos lady instead of the Khmer lady, because the Laos lady makes her homemade crab sauce spicier. When done with the bok-la hung, and looking for something else to eat, we head for the grilled chicken or beef (never touching the grilled fish because we know better. It was probably caught in the same lake we remember jumping and swimming in when we were young). Then our sweet tooth takes hold… and either we get some of that pink or green sweet drink stuff mixed with ice (that makes your teeth rot), reserving the coffee flavor drink stuff for the old folks or, head for the Khmer dessert: the green noodles with sugar and coconut syrup (we enjoy the latter the older we get). The whole day, aside from eating, is spent hoping to go home–when will your parents get tired from all the gossiping and card playing?– as we down our third bag of that green stuff. Just waiting… until the dust suffocates our lungs and observing the day slowly pass by from the light off the grass. And when we return back home, we sometimes forget to shower and just go to sleep. This cycles less and less, every week as one gets older and no longer are we willing to be stuffed into the family minivan–the same one that your dad use to drive to work, opting instead to stay home or, go somewhere else with our own car. And if we “choose” to go to the park, it will only be every once in a while, and we think back to our memories formed there.

2. Khmer people love roadside plants. In fact, we can probably eat everything and anything that grows out of the ground. If you can salt it, sugar it, pickle it–Khmer style– you can eat it. Mild diarrhea is not problem. We will just get a rub of white monkey tiger balm on our bellies and walk it off. And we knew better than to eat that unknown plant growing on the highway, but when it is next to that pra-hok or duk-krung, we can’t help ourselves. Remember how we didn’t like to eat Khmer food growing up? How we longed for hamburgers, hotdogs, and pizza, because that was more American and more in line with what we saw on T.V. (like when we saw them eat turkey and other American cuisine at their family gatherings, a la FULL HOUSE with Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen)! But now, we eat Khmer food with vicious ambition. But I digress…Going back then, to the Khmer people and plants, we don’t even know the plant’s name, only it’s location on the highway or, on the grounds of the shopping mall. And of course, there are other identifiers: what “could” be eaten is given a prefix of year and number identification. So that when something new becomes edible, the species discovered in that year will be called by plant year (2008) and then number of discovery (#1), so that there is no confusion. Plants discovered since the last follow the pattern until the end of that qualifying year. The information is passed to the community and soon the plant, its location, shape, taste, and cooking method is public information. In no time, the plant species becomes extinct because everyone will have stripped that sucker down to the bone (The same thing that happened to that crab apple tree and what’s happening to plant 1985 #01. 1985 #01 grows near the airport, is long and stringy, and is pickled and eaten with grilled fish). Yum.

3. Khmer people love their music, I will say it again; KHMER PEOPLE LOVE THEIR MUSIC. Growing up and going on family trips to the park, in the family first car (which was a wagon of some kind with un-tinted windows so other people saw the whole family stuffed into the Japanese vehicle), or going on trips to pick plant 1995 #56, we listened to that strange Khmer music with the language that we did not understand. We would have preferred to take those tapes, toss them out the window, or hide them from mom and dad before getting in the car. To really breaking our parents’ hearts, the night before a trip, we would record the top 10 countdown from the radio over the classic Khmer tape, so that in the middle of a Sin Si Samuth song, 2Pac or Bone Thugs and Harmony screaming “THUG LIFE!!!” or “It’s Da First of Da Month” respectively, could be heard loud and clear. And how our parents wondered if something was wrong with the stereo?! Being the smart one in the family, we would exercise our American education and reply that “nothing is wrong and that is how the stereo works.” Telling your parents that they do not know technology as well as we do because we are now officially American (having spent 9am to 3pm in a western educational setting on a daily basis and since we no longer associate ourselves as Khmer). But as much as you tried to erase those words of Sin Si Samouth, Pen Rom, Srey Sros Sothear, Ing Nary, Meas Samorn from those tapes, those words still stuck inside your mind. And even though you cannot sing along, you listen along and you learned. These songs slowly crept into our minds as we got older, and now we wish we didn’t erase all of those treasures. We no longer want to be American. We want to be Khmer. So we started thinking about every possible way to repent what we did in our youth. We started looking on the Internet for places to download (and if you are feeling guilty, places to purchase) the Khmer songs you used to hate. Until you discover Napster and then, boom!!!! We’ve got a whole, newly-refreshed Khmer musical library. We start playing the music every single day, and our parents are so proud that we like the things they cherish. That is, until they are tired of hearing the same stupid song over and over again. Now they are getting tired of us and our songs. They would prefer to listen to rap instead of the constant annoyance of Khmer music blaring 24/7. All of our friends think that we are crazy but we know that we are not. With the Khmer flag in our rooms, and all those Angkor Wat T-shirts we bought off eBay, we feel like the saviors of Khmer culture– popping our Khmer bangers in, bopping our heads, and rolling down the Khmer strip of our cities in our 1995 civics.

Then we hit a roadblock in our lives. We are older now and have seen how much of our lives are Khmer and not really Cambodian. We think about our need to go to Cambodia and see what Cambodia is like. So we dream about all the things in our hearts, about the country our parents left behind. But then when we look at our demeanor and mannerisms, we can see that we are far from being Cambodian, Cambodian/American, and far from being American. Holding that American passport in hand, we start to become unsure about who we really are. Then our identities come back to us in questions needing answers. We take that passport, get on a plane, somehow with whatever means, and fly to what we think is our motherland. We take a good look back at America and silently ask ourselves, “Who am I?” (often afraid to ask loudly because we are so proud to be survivors in America). Trying to find our histories, we got years of knowing how bad our days growing up American was instead of counting the contrary. Trying not to feel defeated by society, we wish that the country that we most feel connects us (the motherland), will help us discover our heritage and overcome the cowardice of ignorance from years of not knowing our story.

We arrive to taste the fresh air that is Cambodia, only to be choked by the dust and exhaust from the traffic there. We spend ten months avoiding being hit by motos, or being run over by Lexus and Land cruisers with RCAF and Government green license plates. We sit in places of solitude only to be disturbed by the “Beautiful Girls” ringtone. We hear people talking about how much their land is worth now, while their bodyguards sport AK-47s (They are nothing without their bodyguards we think, because their body flows blood like everybody else… and they breathe the same pollution as you). We sit there and think about how we have spent our lives trying to figure out how to win in this world and knowing full well that we are only playing with ourselves. Then we feel discouraged that more and more, Cambodians abroad reveal themselves by not appreciating their brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters who came from back home. We think about our gifts and talents and the hope we can give back to the place inside our hearts. Yet we only see the corruption that happens everywhere, replacing the light with the darkness, and we refuse to think that this is only a Cambodian problem. Then we hope for it to be over, and start counting the days until we come back home. We have given up on Cambodia and now know who we are. We are Khmer, more Khmer that we have understood. We are not Cambodian– Cambodians are people who live in Cambodia, there is no Cambodian living where we came from. We are just Khmer kids who grew up with Khmer experiences somewhere else… So how many more days ’til I go?

I am counting less than 100 and all I gave Cambodia is six kilos of my body. So in the meantime, I spend some better days watching old people exercise in unison at the Olympic stadium. That is how I manage my time amidst the problems, even though I lost 6 kilos since I got here. I wish I still had the motivation to dance with the people in the video but, I feel it better to share their smiles from behind my camera.

Click here to email Phally with your questions or comments

The views and information presented are the Fulbright grantee’s own and do not represent the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.

So with the string of bad luck running in my life, it only seems fair that a water blessing be in store. Not only was it a fun way to get naked but it was also fun for the monk to extract his anger upon an unexpected evildoer like myself. I swear, with every water splash onto my backside, it was almost like I was preparing for a haymaker or something. With every throw, my folded hands reacted… Look at my face, even laughter and humor couldn’t save me from that monk.

Well, all things considered, I guess I was deserving of my blessing. I mean, there is no other (or better) time to ever see me robed in a monk’s dressing gown. So with all “prep-ness,” shot by my friend Mongkol, I bring you Phally’s attempt for good luck and fortune in his future endeavors.

Click here to email Phally with your questions or comments

The views and information presented are the Fulbright grantee’s own and do not represent the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.

The Grace of the Apsara dance is everywhere, most especially in the hearts and minds of the Cambodia people. This is dedicated to them– to all the Apsara dancers around the world, near or far.

This entry is going to be a poem that I wrote, because this is my blog? Right? Enjoy.

Sovanna Phum, in Phomn Penh on march 23, 2008

The Grace of the Apsara

Is it beautiful? The grace of the Apsara,
celestial dancer, in the hearts of many.
Her smiles, sadden by years of dance for love,
her eyes from life that is born from the heavens

Sovanna Phum, in Phomn Penh on march 23, 2008

Dancing with grace and elegance
from centuries and history rooted in memories.
Lost at times in dance and direction,
but never forgotten by those who had seen.
For the seen, it is a daze from the direction from her eyes and smile.

The celestial ballet that has captured hearts and
bestowed punishment to those who has seen her sadness from the heavens.
To steal smiles from mere simple beings like myself.
This is the punishment to dance with an Apsara.
With pain rooted in her dance.

Sovanna Phum, in Phomn Penh on march 23, 2008

Phally

Click here to email Phally with your questions or comments

The views and information presented are the Fulbright grantee’s own and do not represent the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.

Sovanna Phum, in Phomn Penh on march 23, 2008

At times, I find my Fulbright experience in Cambodia so bleak. All the problems that Cambodians face: corruption, oppression, fear, and poverty, strike me at a personal level, perhaps because I too, encounter them daily. But, it is the same everywhere, right? Sometimes, I am not so sure, although the problems in Cambodia do not seem so different from the problems in America, aside from being Cambodian in nature, shape, and form. It was my choice to do research here, but sometimes I think, was it really worth it? To come to a country that I call “mother” in heart, although never truly being accepted by her children?

You see, I understand that I can never play right with the locals, but the playwright who wrote this play, still wrote it anyway. As the playwright, I will have to see it all the way through. Look at it from this perspective: I try to place my train of thought as a local Cambodian would, but knowing the severity of the country’s problems, it becomes disheartening to try to live by the “local thought” while possessing American idealism. Yet, it is this duality that I uncover that makes this situation advantageous. I can learn from both sides and take it all in. The rabbit trick: I can only learn and feel, but not obtain a local thought.

Yet, there is always hope that makes me feel that this is a good chapter of my life. They say happiness, laughter, and smiles remedy the pain of the world. We can medicate and heal our traumatic wounds with happiness and humor.

The Tonle Bassac dance troupe is made up of beautiful Cambodian children who are experiencing the world in the midst of all these problems. The magic I see in their eyes makes the work they do really wonderful (We are talking about art as hope). These kids do and know more than most of the people I have met in my lifetime. They sing, dance, and play traditional Cambodian instruments, and what makes that extra special is that they are doing so in a time when the traditional arts were thought to be lost. They are the investment in Cambodian’s rich history. How many Cambodian kids do you really know that can sing traditional Cambodian wedding music, play the full musical ensemble… or dance the court and folk dances? Not a lot, and seeing these kids really made me hopeful that I was not lost by being here.

Watch the clip below and see how much fun these kids are having, in a dark, sweaty room in the evening, but sill dancing like beautiful Cambodian children when they get on stage. When I was about to give up, these kids brought me back. That is why I have their picture on my desktop. Living without hope for Cambodia would be living a lie (that’s what they taught me). Every time I meet these kids, I laugh and smile with them. They are just a reminder to myself and a special something that I wanted to share with folks who manage to read this blog.

Phally (which means purpose in Khmer)

They are going on tour in France for two months. If anything, for most of these kids, this will be their life’s greatest. And even if life stops here for some of them, they will remember this time. (My shameless plug. Normally, I do not make shameless plugs for support, but, if you really want to help out, it would be a great. Feel free to contact me for info.)

Click here to email Phally with your questions or comments

The views and information presented are the Fulbright grantee’s own and do not represent the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.

After a long day of shooting b-roll for my documentary, I thought of doing something fun with the interns. Cut to the chase, I decided that we were going to eat bugs. You see, I like food, and it would just be ignorant of me not to try insects while I’m here in Cambodia. I mean, if my parents ate them when they use to live in Cambodia, I surely have some insect-eating DNA in my genetic code. So here it is. And just for reference, I have eaten cricket before, but these were Cambodian-style crickets so I didn’t know exactly what to expect.

So what’s on the menu? Black spiders and Cambodian crickets. And these spiders were not pretty at all. I tell you, they were long, black, and hairy. My mind was racing… how was I supposed to eat them? Well, I did and we shot it on video. In fact, since this is a very giving month, a special treat! I also ate a cricket, which is in this video too. Thanks to all the interns, Muth and Kawick for their help with the other camera, and eating the buggers as well.

Accompanying this video is a classic Cambodian song about going to the “New Market.” It is a popular oldie, which the singers sing that they are going to the market to look for girls but in this video, (obviously) we are going to the market to look for insects.

Phally

Click here to email Phally with your questions or comments

The views and information presented are the Fulbright grantee’s own and do not represent the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.

This entry is about Bosba Panh, a little girl with a not-so-little voice. It is her innocence, unique vocals, amazing talent, and strong sound that has been floating throughout Cambodia for quite some time. There is an interesting thing about this little girl, Bosba, that so many people find magical. Apparently she sings renditions of popular, iconic songs in both English and French, and then adapts them to Khmer.

She recently performed nationally on television and also at the CHATMOKTOK Theater in the capital on Christmas. I missed the chance to see her then, and I didn’t want to miss out again. So, I went to a free event recently where many people came out to support her. It was at the Metahouse, a place that has daily events promoting the local Cambodian art scene. (My friend Nico, a great and wonderful filmmaker, runs the place. So as you can see, we have a lot in common. :))

Anyway, she sang three songs: A Khmer version of “Blowing in The Wind” by Bob Dylan, a French song, and also a Cambodian oldie. Watch her sing below.

Enjoys and thanks again to Nico and Metahouse. Check them out at www.meta-house.com. They are definitely cool and great folks for all that they do.

Phally

Click here to email Phally with your questions or comments

The views and information presented are the Fulbright grantee’s own and do not represent the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.

Kong Nai is one of the few remaining Cambodian living masters in the world that has managed to survive and play one of Cambodia’s most important traditional instruments, the chapie dong vien. In part to an Australian TV show, the TV station set up a shot at a local Cambodian venue where Master Kong Nai played music for a period of 2 hours. Through my internship with Cambodian Living Arts, I was very fortunate to be around masters like Master Kong Nai because a big aspect of my research is to identifying practitioner of music who survived the genocide, and most importantly how they are able to able to reach to the people because these practitioners are using these classical Cambodian instruments in the music.

Click here to email Phally with your questions or comments

The views and information presented are the Fulbright grantee’s own and do not represent the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.

What an experience…walking shoulder to shoulder during the water festival in Cambodia’s capital. This is a time when most villagers make their pilgrimage to the city. Among the six million people who were in Phnom Penh, I was just one of the many attending the free concerts near the independent monument. It was very difficult getting around and getting a good view really meant being able to see–anything– from where you stood.

There was a range of music which appealed to the many types of people who packed Phnom Penh for the three-day event. I found myself at the “pop” music area, which was made up of mostly young people including the performers. Overjoyed, the young crowd yelled and flashed their lights in appreciation of the performance.

Just a day earlier, I had the opportunity to go backstage to meet some of the dancers and singers. Here are a few cuts from that meeting:

Click here to email Phally with your questions or comments

The views and information presented are the Fulbright grantee’s own and do not represent the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.

No matter how much I love Cambodia, I dislike some things about her. Take for example this video that I shot with my fellow interns. GIVING alms, it is very funny that all these business people in Cambodia dedicate one day out of their “busy” life to give charity. I thought it was pretty ironic that their activities on this “special” occasion are to make up for all the “occasions” they fail to give or help out. It was also kind of funny how the cops are out there walking around, beating people with a bamboo stick, so that the people do not take “more than needed.” Well I better stop being cynical. Today is actually Independence day, and I actually do understand why people make alms in Cambodia–so they can reincarnate into a better life (if you believe in Buddhism), but who wants to not reincarnated back into a rich family? I think maybe the poor…

Click here to email Phally with your questions or comments

The views and information presented are the Fulbright grantee’s own and do not represent the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.