The rare, half intelligent, article on Cambodia in the international press...
Follow above link to full story.
Cambodia has become a self-devouring nation in which just about everything seems to be for sale or lease: forests, fisheries, mining concessions, air routes, ship registrations, toxic dumps, weapons, women, girls, boys, babies...
Friday, October 28, 2005
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Government Resort to Recourse on Defamation
The Royal Government of Cambodia has taken strong action against allegations on territorial issue, viewed as political attack against the ruling parties, especially the prominent Prime Minister Samdech Hun Sen.
For years now, opposition politicians and some NGO activists have repeatedly made either direct or indirect allegations against the government over border issue with neighboring countries including Viet Nam, Laos and Thailand.
Such allegations are apparently utilized as a political tool , rather than real intention to find a solution, to degrade the popularity of the Prime Minister and to win heart and mind of the Cambodian people.
To eliminate doubts over the territorial issue, the Royal Government of Cambodia has resorted to legal recourse to bring those who make allegations to court where, as claimed by Samdech Hun Sen, they can tell the truth and help the government pin-point any parts of the territory lost during the tenure of the Prime Minister.
As a result, seven people have been sued and taken to court although some of them managed to flee the country to avoid inquiries and investigations.
However, Mom Sonando, a border-issue critic who is the owner of FM105 Radion Station and Rong Chhun, president of Independent Teachers' Association have been detained on warrants by Phnom Penh Court prosecutor.
At last but not least, Prince Sisowath Thomico, a royal family member fled the country on October 18, 2005 only one day after pledging to wage a hunger strike and confront defamation charges filed by the government. The prince is one of the seven people who have been charged on defamations over territorial issue.
On his arrival from the 2nd ASEAN-China Expo in China in the afternoon of October 19, 2005, Samdech Hun Sen mocked at the prince by saying "Prince Thomico disappoints (Cambodian) citizens. He should have stayed and lived up to his pledge ".
On Friday this week, the government is scheduled to meet, discuss and approve a number of projects including the document pertaining to the signing of the additional treaty on October 10 between Cambodia and Viet Nam.
The document needs to be adopted by the National Assembly and ratified by the King.(ends)
For years now, opposition politicians and some NGO activists have repeatedly made either direct or indirect allegations against the government over border issue with neighboring countries including Viet Nam, Laos and Thailand.
Such allegations are apparently utilized as a political tool , rather than real intention to find a solution, to degrade the popularity of the Prime Minister and to win heart and mind of the Cambodian people.
To eliminate doubts over the territorial issue, the Royal Government of Cambodia has resorted to legal recourse to bring those who make allegations to court where, as claimed by Samdech Hun Sen, they can tell the truth and help the government pin-point any parts of the territory lost during the tenure of the Prime Minister.
As a result, seven people have been sued and taken to court although some of them managed to flee the country to avoid inquiries and investigations.
However, Mom Sonando, a border-issue critic who is the owner of FM105 Radion Station and Rong Chhun, president of Independent Teachers' Association have been detained on warrants by Phnom Penh Court prosecutor.
At last but not least, Prince Sisowath Thomico, a royal family member fled the country on October 18, 2005 only one day after pledging to wage a hunger strike and confront defamation charges filed by the government. The prince is one of the seven people who have been charged on defamations over territorial issue.
On his arrival from the 2nd ASEAN-China Expo in China in the afternoon of October 19, 2005, Samdech Hun Sen mocked at the prince by saying "Prince Thomico disappoints (Cambodian) citizens. He should have stayed and lived up to his pledge ".
On Friday this week, the government is scheduled to meet, discuss and approve a number of projects including the document pertaining to the signing of the additional treaty on October 10 between Cambodia and Viet Nam.
The document needs to be adopted by the National Assembly and ratified by the King.(ends)
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Khmer Vampires ???
PHNOM PENH, Cambodia - Black magic may have driven a Cambodian couple to bite off their daughter's thumb nails and suck her blood, officials said Sunday.
Chheng Chhorn, 46, and Srun Yoeung, 37, attacked their 12-year-old child before dawn on Thursday while she was still asleep, biting off her thumb nails and a small part of her nose to drink her blood, said Keo Norea Phy, a police official in Kampong Cham province where the incident occurred.
Neighbours rushed to the couple's house and rescued the girl after hearing her screams.
After treatment at a hospital in Kampong Cham, about 50 miles east of Phnom Penh, the girl was placed in the custody of other villagers. Relatives had taken her parents to a black magic healer to chase away the evil spirit that was believed to have possessed them, the police official said.
"We, the police, just have no idea what offence to charge them with," Keo Norea Phy said.
Preap Nhim, a local official, said the couple sold noodles in their village and had never before acted in a strange manner. He said they may have been driven by the spirit guarding the altar they kept inside their house.
Cambodia is a Buddhist country, but many people in the countryside are deeply superstitious. Some claim the ability to communicate with the dead and cure the sick by exorcising evil spirits from their bodies.
Chheng Chhorn, 46, and Srun Yoeung, 37, attacked their 12-year-old child before dawn on Thursday while she was still asleep, biting off her thumb nails and a small part of her nose to drink her blood, said Keo Norea Phy, a police official in Kampong Cham province where the incident occurred.
Neighbours rushed to the couple's house and rescued the girl after hearing her screams.
After treatment at a hospital in Kampong Cham, about 50 miles east of Phnom Penh, the girl was placed in the custody of other villagers. Relatives had taken her parents to a black magic healer to chase away the evil spirit that was believed to have possessed them, the police official said.
"We, the police, just have no idea what offence to charge them with," Keo Norea Phy said.
Preap Nhim, a local official, said the couple sold noodles in their village and had never before acted in a strange manner. He said they may have been driven by the spirit guarding the altar they kept inside their house.
Cambodia is a Buddhist country, but many people in the countryside are deeply superstitious. Some claim the ability to communicate with the dead and cure the sick by exorcising evil spirits from their bodies.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Friday the 30th September
Philippine Birthday Party No. 2
Regular readers may recall me attending my Philippine neighbour’s birthday party a couple of months back. Today is his brother-in-laws birthday (he was 22) and so they are having a party next-door. And so as good neighbours, they invite me – presumably to cut of any objections J
Despite only living 6 inches away I was late to the start of the party and it was kicking off with the food when we got there, the food was excellent, it had been prepared by my neighbours mother-in-law, an 80 year old Philippine woman who speaks surprisingly good English, for her sons birthday she had been slaving away in the kitchen all day preparing:
Stir fry noodles with pork, veg and chillies
Barbequed King Prawns
Shrimp paste spring rolls
Roast chicken
And of course the ubiquitous Boiled Rice
Halfway through us grazing the buffet the main dish for the food arrived, having been prepared by the only Philippine restaurant in Phnom Penh. It was a traditional Philippine dish made for parties - it was a suckling pig that had been barbequed whole. I have to say, it was fantastic.
An hour or so into it some more guests arrive a mixture of young Philippine guys and young Khmer guys turn up, friend of the birthday boy, I move out onto the balcony to join them for a drink – that was were things started to go wrong.
While having a few beers with them they started playing some Philippine drinking games, some semi frozen rum and fruit juice concoction was involved – in addition to the beers – after an hour or so of that a few more of their friends turned up, but we had run out of Philippine rum to make the punch needed for the drinking game, oh no, luckily they had brought with them a couple of two litre bottles of Johnny Walker… aghhhh.
I think that I managed to crawl into my bed next-door at around 3AM
Saturday the 1st of October
There is a power drill inside my head
Oh my head hurts.
Never, ever, ever, get into Philippine drinking games involving Philippine rum.
Regular readers may recall me attending my Philippine neighbour’s birthday party a couple of months back. Today is his brother-in-laws birthday (he was 22) and so they are having a party next-door. And so as good neighbours, they invite me – presumably to cut of any objections J
Despite only living 6 inches away I was late to the start of the party and it was kicking off with the food when we got there, the food was excellent, it had been prepared by my neighbours mother-in-law, an 80 year old Philippine woman who speaks surprisingly good English, for her sons birthday she had been slaving away in the kitchen all day preparing:
Stir fry noodles with pork, veg and chillies
Barbequed King Prawns
Shrimp paste spring rolls
Roast chicken
And of course the ubiquitous Boiled Rice
Halfway through us grazing the buffet the main dish for the food arrived, having been prepared by the only Philippine restaurant in Phnom Penh. It was a traditional Philippine dish made for parties - it was a suckling pig that had been barbequed whole. I have to say, it was fantastic.
An hour or so into it some more guests arrive a mixture of young Philippine guys and young Khmer guys turn up, friend of the birthday boy, I move out onto the balcony to join them for a drink – that was were things started to go wrong.
While having a few beers with them they started playing some Philippine drinking games, some semi frozen rum and fruit juice concoction was involved – in addition to the beers – after an hour or so of that a few more of their friends turned up, but we had run out of Philippine rum to make the punch needed for the drinking game, oh no, luckily they had brought with them a couple of two litre bottles of Johnny Walker… aghhhh.
I think that I managed to crawl into my bed next-door at around 3AM
Saturday the 1st of October
There is a power drill inside my head
Oh my head hurts.
Never, ever, ever, get into Philippine drinking games involving Philippine rum.
Cambodia is an affordable paradise
Sihanoukville, Cambodia - I hop on the back of the little motor scooter without an ounce of trepidation. After two days in Phnom Penh, Cambodia's rapidly bustling little capital, I now view my regular trips on this country's taxis with two parts adventure and one part economic relief.
A moto is a cheap way to see Cambodia and cool in more ways than one. There's nothing like beating the heat of a hot Southeast Asian night by flying through traffic on the back of a scooter - even going the wrong way down a one-way street.
But this is different. I'm not in the city anymore. I'm far from it, far from any sense of what people view as Cambodia. Pounding along a bumpy dirt road, we pass a tiny village of six wooden structures where a man sleeps in a hammock and a child pulls a crude, wooden wagon.
A little boy and his brother wave and smile at me. We swerve to avoid a goat.
This road into the real Cambodia ends at a spectacular beach. I hop off the back and forget to pay the driver as I stare open- mouthed at an expansive stretch of fine, white sand, nary a single hotel, souvenir stand or bar in sight. The only signs of civilization are two small, wooden shelters, serving only as protection from a rainstorm.
Full Article here:
http://www.insidebayarea.com/travel/ci_3089811
A moto is a cheap way to see Cambodia and cool in more ways than one. There's nothing like beating the heat of a hot Southeast Asian night by flying through traffic on the back of a scooter - even going the wrong way down a one-way street.
But this is different. I'm not in the city anymore. I'm far from it, far from any sense of what people view as Cambodia. Pounding along a bumpy dirt road, we pass a tiny village of six wooden structures where a man sleeps in a hammock and a child pulls a crude, wooden wagon.
A little boy and his brother wave and smile at me. We swerve to avoid a goat.
This road into the real Cambodia ends at a spectacular beach. I hop off the back and forget to pay the driver as I stare open- mouthed at an expansive stretch of fine, white sand, nary a single hotel, souvenir stand or bar in sight. The only signs of civilization are two small, wooden shelters, serving only as protection from a rainstorm.
Full Article here:
http://www.insidebayarea.com/travel/ci_3089811
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Ministry of Fish P’chum Ben party
Friday the 23rd
Ministry of Fish P’chum Ben party
P’chum Ben is a Khmer festival of the dead which lasts for 15-day in which people remember their past relatives, ancesters, loved ones that have passed on, et cetera.
17:30 we all meet up in the Ministry car park, I decide to follow them on my bike as I prefer the freedom to make a run for it from office parties here. (usually once the karaoke starts)
Following the cars is a challenge. The combination of rush hour traffic and standard suicidal Khmer driving tactics results in my losing sight of them.
Luckily Buntha had told me yesterday that it was at the same restaurant that we went to for the office Khmer New Year party.
Leaving Phnom Penh I drive over the Japanese Friendship Bridge, a narrow, steeply humped concrete bride crossing the wide and fast flowing Tonle Sap River, on the banks I can see the piles of cargo containers at the city’s commercial port. As well as, wooden fishing boats plying their trade in the waters below beneath a setting red sun and purple sky... Although the fast and densely packed traffic on the bridge does not allow time to enjoy the view.
Once over the bridge the next 5 Km contain about 50 restaurants. The restaurant I am thinking of is about halfway along, if I remember correctly.
Stopping at half a dozen places mid route I am unable to see the restaurant, or any of their cars. So I pull over to the side of the road to call Buntha. Alas, my phone has no credit left on it. Mobiles here are pay-as-you-go, but once you are under US$1 you can not make calls. You can however still send text messages - (.03c for a local text, .43c for an international one). So I send one to Buntha asking for the name of the restaurant.
A minute later my phone rings and it is Vuthy, our boss. However, I only manage to get as far as ‘hello’ before my phone cuts off – flat battery, damn !
So I decide to do another back and forth of the restaurants. After another 20 minutes pulling up and down restaurant driveways, looking at parked cars and asking various waiters if The Ministry of Fish are in their restaurant I pull over again and decide to see if I have enough credit and battery left for another text message – thankfully I do, I explain that the battery is flat on the phone and that I am driving up and down lost. Just as the message confirms the phone dies completely!
Deciding on one last sweep of the restaurants, over a wider search area I put the bike into gear and… - clunk, shudder, crack. It lurches wildly forward, shudders and I am almost flung off. The clutch cable has just snapped. I am over 5km from Phnom Penh, on an unlit, and busy, main road - well, that is to say; dirt track with no tarmac, mud, gravel, potholes the size of a water buffalo and HGV’s hurtling past at breakneck speed.
Finding a slight incline, I get the bike moving downhill and slip (crash, bang, wallop) the bike into second gear. At which point I just have to prey I do not need to stop, slow down or do anything that is not crawl along in second for the trip back to town.
Halfway along the road back to the bridge, the bike again starts to shudder, damn, running low on petrol! Fortunately there is a large Caltex petrol station up ahead and I pull into there – stalling the bike to a stop next to a slightly nervous looking 12 year old Khmer girl petrol pump attendant.
Slipping a few dollars worth of petrol into the bike I push it over to one side as I have spotted a small wooden stall at the side of the road which is the Cambodian equivalent of a payphone – basically you use the old woman’s mobile phone, she checks the length of the call on the display and charges you about double what it costs her.
Getting through to Buntha’s phone, Kimtek answers it (he works with Buntha and myself) between his pigeon English and my pigeon Khmer I establish that Buntha is not there and that the restaurant has in fact been changed, it is no longer the one over the bridge that we went too before, but one back in the centre of Phnom Penh. Not being able to get any answers out of him (in any language) as to the name of the restaurant or its location I give up.
Crash, bang, wallop, the bike is back in second gear and I am crawling back to home – 5km to the bridge and the another 4 or 5 to the south end of town where I live. Half an hour later I arrive home in a slightly peevish mood (to say the least) I plug my phone in on charge, have a shower (it started raining halfway home) and slip into some dry clothes.
At this point my phone rings again, sighing as I see Buntha’s name and number come up I answer the phone
“Bong Darren, where you now? We wait you long time. You come now or not?”
NB Language point - Bong in this context means Sir, or respected elder. (even if I am younger than Buntha…)
Explaining the catalogue of disaster that had befallen me this evening I said that I could not make it. He swiftly said that was not a problem and that he would be at my house in 10 minutes to pick me up. Before I could get another excuse out for my new antisocial mood he had hung up.
Sighing again, I head back into my room to get changed again for an evening out with the boys from work, and our boss.
True to his word, Buntha was outside in ten minutes, sounding his horn and waving frantically up at my flat. Ten minutes after that I am at the tiny Khmer BBQ restaurant joining my intoxicated colleagues (yup, they had had a second beer while waiting for me) and being handed plates of barbequed king prawns and glasses of ABC Stout (9%ABV)
So I set about eating some very good food, during which every 30 seconds, my colleagues keep going ‘cheers’ clanking glasses with me and shouting ‘finish’ (Special memory jogger there for Glen and Paul!)
Then, of course, the karaoke starts…
Now, Khmers take their karaoke very seriously and after a few songs they start asking me ‘Darren, Darren you sing a song, you sing a song’ as always in this situation I stall them as long as possible. But it gets to a point where if you do not sing, they start to think that you are not happy, that you are not enjoying yourself and that upsets them, they start to think that they are bad hosts because you are not happy and singing!?!
So, my lungs powered by the strength of ABC Stout (9%ABV) I join Kimchhea in a duet of ‘I just called to say I love you’ (do not ask, hell, do not even try to understand it, and for the love of all that is holy, do not try and imagine it !)
Halfway through the song I start improving and singing some of the songs lyrics in Khmer, my colleagues start falling of their chairs they are laughing so hard.
Thankfully, 10 o’clock rolls around and the party wraps up. Heading outside Buntha, Kimtek, Kimchhea and Bunna inform me that we are going to another bar to carry on the party (now that the boss, et cetera have left)
So driving a dozen blocks North (rather than the few south and to home) we pull up outside the Tip Top VIP Karaoke bar… aggghhhhh.
Making a swift set of excuses about having to meet some friends, I jump on a moto-taxi outside the hotel and leave them to it. Thankfully the karaoke bar is only a couple of blocks away from the new Peace Café and I call in there for a couple of drinks and some peace and quiet.
Arriving home at 11:30, I find that all of Heng’s girlfriends had left and that she was just watching TV, looking up from the sofa as I come in she asks, with a big grin on her face, ‘we go out now? No work tomorrow, I want to go out’…
Ten minutes later I am heading back up to the Peace Café and a couple more drinks…
Just as we are getting ready to leave, Pete comes in and I need to catch up with him regarding various issues we have with the new Khmer440 website, so it is back to the barstool and a few more drinks.
As 03:30 rolls around I am very glad that my moto-taxi driver is still waiting outside for us, even if he is laying flat on his back, legs over the handlebars, fast asleep on the Honda Dailim 50cc he drives !
Ministry of Fish P’chum Ben party
P’chum Ben is a Khmer festival of the dead which lasts for 15-day in which people remember their past relatives, ancesters, loved ones that have passed on, et cetera.
17:30 we all meet up in the Ministry car park, I decide to follow them on my bike as I prefer the freedom to make a run for it from office parties here. (usually once the karaoke starts)
Following the cars is a challenge. The combination of rush hour traffic and standard suicidal Khmer driving tactics results in my losing sight of them.
Luckily Buntha had told me yesterday that it was at the same restaurant that we went to for the office Khmer New Year party.
Leaving Phnom Penh I drive over the Japanese Friendship Bridge, a narrow, steeply humped concrete bride crossing the wide and fast flowing Tonle Sap River, on the banks I can see the piles of cargo containers at the city’s commercial port. As well as, wooden fishing boats plying their trade in the waters below beneath a setting red sun and purple sky... Although the fast and densely packed traffic on the bridge does not allow time to enjoy the view.
Once over the bridge the next 5 Km contain about 50 restaurants. The restaurant I am thinking of is about halfway along, if I remember correctly.
Stopping at half a dozen places mid route I am unable to see the restaurant, or any of their cars. So I pull over to the side of the road to call Buntha. Alas, my phone has no credit left on it. Mobiles here are pay-as-you-go, but once you are under US$1 you can not make calls. You can however still send text messages - (.03c for a local text, .43c for an international one). So I send one to Buntha asking for the name of the restaurant.
A minute later my phone rings and it is Vuthy, our boss. However, I only manage to get as far as ‘hello’ before my phone cuts off – flat battery, damn !
So I decide to do another back and forth of the restaurants. After another 20 minutes pulling up and down restaurant driveways, looking at parked cars and asking various waiters if The Ministry of Fish are in their restaurant I pull over again and decide to see if I have enough credit and battery left for another text message – thankfully I do, I explain that the battery is flat on the phone and that I am driving up and down lost. Just as the message confirms the phone dies completely!
Deciding on one last sweep of the restaurants, over a wider search area I put the bike into gear and… - clunk, shudder, crack. It lurches wildly forward, shudders and I am almost flung off. The clutch cable has just snapped. I am over 5km from Phnom Penh, on an unlit, and busy, main road - well, that is to say; dirt track with no tarmac, mud, gravel, potholes the size of a water buffalo and HGV’s hurtling past at breakneck speed.
Finding a slight incline, I get the bike moving downhill and slip (crash, bang, wallop) the bike into second gear. At which point I just have to prey I do not need to stop, slow down or do anything that is not crawl along in second for the trip back to town.
Halfway along the road back to the bridge, the bike again starts to shudder, damn, running low on petrol! Fortunately there is a large Caltex petrol station up ahead and I pull into there – stalling the bike to a stop next to a slightly nervous looking 12 year old Khmer girl petrol pump attendant.
Slipping a few dollars worth of petrol into the bike I push it over to one side as I have spotted a small wooden stall at the side of the road which is the Cambodian equivalent of a payphone – basically you use the old woman’s mobile phone, she checks the length of the call on the display and charges you about double what it costs her.
Getting through to Buntha’s phone, Kimtek answers it (he works with Buntha and myself) between his pigeon English and my pigeon Khmer I establish that Buntha is not there and that the restaurant has in fact been changed, it is no longer the one over the bridge that we went too before, but one back in the centre of Phnom Penh. Not being able to get any answers out of him (in any language) as to the name of the restaurant or its location I give up.
Crash, bang, wallop, the bike is back in second gear and I am crawling back to home – 5km to the bridge and the another 4 or 5 to the south end of town where I live. Half an hour later I arrive home in a slightly peevish mood (to say the least) I plug my phone in on charge, have a shower (it started raining halfway home) and slip into some dry clothes.
At this point my phone rings again, sighing as I see Buntha’s name and number come up I answer the phone
“Bong Darren, where you now? We wait you long time. You come now or not?”
NB Language point - Bong in this context means Sir, or respected elder. (even if I am younger than Buntha…)
Explaining the catalogue of disaster that had befallen me this evening I said that I could not make it. He swiftly said that was not a problem and that he would be at my house in 10 minutes to pick me up. Before I could get another excuse out for my new antisocial mood he had hung up.
Sighing again, I head back into my room to get changed again for an evening out with the boys from work, and our boss.
True to his word, Buntha was outside in ten minutes, sounding his horn and waving frantically up at my flat. Ten minutes after that I am at the tiny Khmer BBQ restaurant joining my intoxicated colleagues (yup, they had had a second beer while waiting for me) and being handed plates of barbequed king prawns and glasses of ABC Stout (9%ABV)
So I set about eating some very good food, during which every 30 seconds, my colleagues keep going ‘cheers’ clanking glasses with me and shouting ‘finish’ (Special memory jogger there for Glen and Paul!)
Then, of course, the karaoke starts…
Now, Khmers take their karaoke very seriously and after a few songs they start asking me ‘Darren, Darren you sing a song, you sing a song’ as always in this situation I stall them as long as possible. But it gets to a point where if you do not sing, they start to think that you are not happy, that you are not enjoying yourself and that upsets them, they start to think that they are bad hosts because you are not happy and singing!?!
So, my lungs powered by the strength of ABC Stout (9%ABV) I join Kimchhea in a duet of ‘I just called to say I love you’ (do not ask, hell, do not even try to understand it, and for the love of all that is holy, do not try and imagine it !)
Halfway through the song I start improving and singing some of the songs lyrics in Khmer, my colleagues start falling of their chairs they are laughing so hard.
Thankfully, 10 o’clock rolls around and the party wraps up. Heading outside Buntha, Kimtek, Kimchhea and Bunna inform me that we are going to another bar to carry on the party (now that the boss, et cetera have left)
So driving a dozen blocks North (rather than the few south and to home) we pull up outside the Tip Top VIP Karaoke bar… aggghhhhh.
Making a swift set of excuses about having to meet some friends, I jump on a moto-taxi outside the hotel and leave them to it. Thankfully the karaoke bar is only a couple of blocks away from the new Peace Café and I call in there for a couple of drinks and some peace and quiet.
Arriving home at 11:30, I find that all of Heng’s girlfriends had left and that she was just watching TV, looking up from the sofa as I come in she asks, with a big grin on her face, ‘we go out now? No work tomorrow, I want to go out’…
Ten minutes later I am heading back up to the Peace Café and a couple more drinks…
Just as we are getting ready to leave, Pete comes in and I need to catch up with him regarding various issues we have with the new Khmer440 website, so it is back to the barstool and a few more drinks.
As 03:30 rolls around I am very glad that my moto-taxi driver is still waiting outside for us, even if he is laying flat on his back, legs over the handlebars, fast asleep on the Honda Dailim 50cc he drives !
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