Interested in Volunteering Abroad?

Interested in volunteering abroad?

I just spoke with a group that was visiting Chab Dai last week. They were a small group of 2 leaders and 4 students who were spending 3 months living in Vietnam and taking short trips to other nearby countries to learn about the different ways that they could live overseas. As part of our chat, after talking about what Chab Dai does, and the usual presentation, they asked about what my recommendations were for an individual looking to spend time overseas.

Since a lot of my interactions with expats is with volunteers, I thought I’d give a couple of points on how to get the most out of your overseas volunteering – from my own experience, obviously.

First, do something you’re good at. At Chab Dai, we’ve had two highly skilled volunteers this year, one retiree who worked with our staff on leadership and mentored our managers, and one young man who decided to volunteer with us before starting his PhD who has focused on various research projects. Both of these individuals came to us and asked if we could use their skills, and in both cases they have made a giant impact in our projects, simply because they asked if they could use their skills with us.

Secondly, stay a while. The biggest factor I’ve seen in generating interest about a volunteer has been  how long that person is willing to stay. Many people want to volunteer in the 1-3 month range, and while some of these people can have a positive effect on an organization, having someone come for 6 months is often far more appealing. The learning curve can be easier, the chance of burnout is probably lower, and it just gives the hosts a bit more wiggle room.

Finally, create a relationship. One big reason for hosting a volunteer is the hope that the volunteer will continue to spread news about the organization, stay in contact with them, find ways to fundraise, and to send other, worthwhile volunteers. The more you know an organization before you go abroad, the easier it will be to stay connected with them down the road. As a volunteer coordinator, I’ve developed a couple of key relationships with churches and volunteer organizations that have led to some fantastic volunteers, and I’m always looking for more ways to partner up.

So that’s my initial thoughts on things to consider if you want to go volunteer somewhere. Got any questions?

Charlie

Rainy Season is Upon Us: Learning the Hard Way

Although we've been getting the occasional afternoon thundershower since the end(ish) of hot season, this week there was no doubt in anyone's mind that rainy season has commenced!

Buckets of rain + Phnom Penh infrastructure = FLOODING!!!

Of course, we though it was a good idea to go out for supper. We had an excuse, our good friend was leaving and we wanted to go out for a final farewell meal.

I now believe home cooking is underrated.

So agreeing to meet at the restaurant, I ventured out in my wellies (thank goodness for wellies! I literally wouldn't have made it past my driveway without them) and with my yellow polka dot umbrella. Within ten feet of my house I was calf high in water and trudging down the street in search of a tuktuk.

Forge ahead, or turn back?

A couple blocks from my house, there was not a tuktuk on the horizon, so I stood in the middle of the street, being stared at by a number of people (foreigner, wellies, umbrella: not such a common sight), and contemplated my options. Just as I was about to dial Charlie and say, "Forget it, bring home takeout," an empty tuktuk appeared!

And thus began my half hour commute of 2.5 kilometers. Because as soon as I got in the tuktuk the rain itself stopped, and it was very nearly 5:00, and everyone decided it was safe to venture out to go home. EVERYONE. So bumper to bumper, swishing in the street rivers, we all proceeded forth. Slowly.

The water creating waves against the sidewalks on a main boulevard.

We finally did spiral into the neighbourhood where I was going and I arrived relatively unscathed. The same could not be said of my tuktuk driver, who was wet and dirty from head to toe, so I sheepishly thanked him and gave him a generous tip.

We had a lovely meal. And Sam was extremely excited about all the chaos the rain and flooding had caused. And she does look incredibly adorable with an umbrella.

How cute is that?

Well. If I thought the ride there was long and tedious, I didn't know what was coming. It took 50 minutes to get home. And I think I got poop on my foot. Let me explain.

There was even more traffic at this hour, and the water had not receded at all in some streets, which our tuktuk driver decided was the best route home. People were turning back at all corners, moto drivers were walking (knee high in water, of course) their motos because they'd gotten water in the engine, and at some points the water was so high we almost started floating.

I swear this is a street, not a river

Ahoy!

As we inched our way into our neighbourhood, it seemed inevitable that we would have to cross Street 105 to get there. Except no one calls it Street 105; they call it the Stinky Canal Street (other names I have heard are the Black River or Shit River). It is basically a large open sewer that, yes, stinks to high heavens... on good days. And that day it was overflowing.

As we headed into the rising water of the Stinky Canal, I was a nanosecond too late to lift up my feet and my toes got splashed!!

Shit River overflowing into the street

We were traveling after dark, so I've included a picture of the Stinky Canal overflowing from earlier in the day, when it was just starting to rise above street level.

Care for a swim, accompanied by some giardia?

We finally arrived home, where I immediately scrubbed my feet and legs vigorously with antibacterial soap (even though the "water" only touched my toes, you never know how fast crap travels!) I still cannot think about it without shuddering.

In the end, we survived! But I definitely learned my lesson, and next time I'll stay in.

Sometimes Cambodia looks like Hawaii

A friend recently made a comment on a picture we posted of us having some weekend pool-side family time that went something like, "You sure look like you live in luxury over there in Cambodia."

And, I have to be honest, it hurt.

First, it may have sounded, and maybe even been intended, as an offhanded "funny" comment, but there is judgment behind it.

It assumes that, for some reason, because we are called to work overseas, we should be living in, or close to, dire straights, and that we should always be focused on our call and work here.

It assumes that we do not take our work here seriously because we take some time to relax, or, God forbid, go on vacation.

It assumes (well, outright states) that we live opulently, which hurts because we actually try to be really intentional about simple living and being good stewards of our resources.

It assumes, and this one really hurts, that because part of our salary is supporter-dependent, we owe them all our time, all our possessions, and should not give the impression that we are ever wasting a penny of the money they are sending us.

Because taking a couple hours by the pool on a weekend would be wasting money, because it doesn't have anything to do with fighting trafficking.

Don't get me wrong. I believe wholeheartedly in accountability and I am every day incredibly grateful that we have such a wonderful community of financial supporters who donate to our work, and we hope that in some way they feel part of our work by supporting us.

We work hard. We work 30-40+ hours per week. And we like relaxing by the pool on weekends. Our pictures on Facebook may reflect more of that because, well, pictures of us doing our work looks kind of what pictures of you doing your work look like. And we just don't think of taking pictures of ourselves at meetings. And pictures of us hanging out with our daughter are fun and we like bragging about her, and there are palm trees in the background because we live in a tropical climate.

This is us working. Pretty boring, right?

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Regarding Somaly Mam

You have probably read or heard about  this recent article that’s come out about Somaly Mam in Newsweek, and the subsequent resignation of Somaly Mam from her foundation. This seems like a chance for education about some of the aspects of trafficking in persons that we need to deal with here in Cambodia and in the anti-trafficking movement as a whole.

This is not an apology for the actions of Somaly Mam. I think it’s good that she’s being held accountable, but even the information holding her to account falls into certain traps that I see all too often with human trafficking stories, so I would like to explore the article a bit more.

To begin with, vulnerable people in Cambodia will often say what’s expected of them, or what they think people want to hear in order to help them. It’s something that’s true even in Canada (think of street kids with signs that say “travelling and ran out of money”). At Chab Dai, our research team, which is working with survivors of trafficking, has found that three, four or five years after the research started, their subjects are finally feeling they have the relationship to tell the truth about their past. It’s really important to keep in mind that when people are in a position of vulnerability, they will do what they need to do to keep safe. They are survivors.

One of the driving cultural forces in Cambodia is Chbab Srey (literally translated as Rules for Women), which gives instructions on how women should live. It can be a harsh practice, and once you’ve fallen out of the rules, you’re marginalized from the mainstream societal framework. It governs everything from how late a proper woman may stay out, to what they wear, to how they answer to their husbands, all the way to how they stay sexually pure. To really sum it all up, there’s a Cambodian proverb: Girls are like cloth, boys are like gold; when boys fall in the mud, it cleans off, when girls fall in the mud, they stay dirty.

The whole question about whether or not these girls’ stories are true or were true is wrapped up in cultural issues much larger than the Newsweek article implies. It’s not as simple as “Somaly told girls to lie and now they are trying to tell their true story.” There are a lot of reasons why a girl (or a girl’s parents) in Cambodia who is known to be a survivor of sexual abuse would want to change her story. Living down a history of sexual behavior (even unwanted) is difficult. There’s a reason that the Cambodian government has a law against sharing the names and identities of actual victims of human trafficking.

Which brings me to my second point: it’s the same media that made this happen that are now bringing you a new story asking “how could this happen”?

There’s been a long battle over the types of images and stories that are appropriate when discussing human trafficking. Some people would argue that only by telling the most shocking stories and using shocking images will people come to truly understand the scope and impact of what’s going on. Others (sadly, far, far fewer others) have argued for more educational and less emotional pieces on the subject. The whole reason that anyone ever noticed Somaly Mam was that she had exactly the emotional, shocking story that would sell.

Beyond that, I’ve argued before, and I’ll argue again, that the majority of the media reports on one single type of human trafficking story – of little girls kept in physical bondage for sexual exploitation. When the vast majority of the sellers of stories only want one type of story, it’s hard for me to feel much outrage at the woman who sold them the story they wanted.

Somaly Mam has sold her story to the media, the media sold her story to their readers, her foundation’s directors have sold her story to donors, celebrities have gained social capital and kudos for aligning themselves with her, and the focus has rarely been on truthfully telling what human trafficking entails, rather it’s often been about horror stories and shock and crying on camera. There’s a reason Somaly Mam has been as revered by popular media as she has been– she crafted a simple story (a proto-story, really) that perfectly represents the story as it exists in the minds of actresses and certain reporters.

In some ways, this article has gone full circle – without ever realizing it, our news media has taken someone known for her shocking story, who gained fame by selling an extremely sensational story to the mass media about human trafficking, and now they’ve gone and made an exposé about how her story was sensationalized and how it may not be completely true.

For me, a really great exposé would look at who’s really gaining here. Sure, Somaly’s been around the world a few times, and has gotten publicity, but my dream follow-up article would investigate how she was treated by, famous reporters, celebrity endorsers, and the members of her international board. Many people made a lot of money off Somaly Mam’s story. Discrediting her and decrying her actions, without investigating the rest of them is missing the forest for the trees.                

       

All I can do is pray

I sat at my kitchen table yesterday, across from my daughter, and, through tears, read another article about the more than 200 Nigerian girls abducted from their school to be sold into forced marriage.

I cried and my 2-year-old daughter asked, "Mama sad?" and kissed my cheek.

I cried because I CANNOT imagine the pain and helplessness the parents of those girls are going through, but I know how much I LOVE my daughter and it is an overwhelming, protective, intense love that I would die for without a second thought.

I cried because I work in this sector and some days I feel like there is more bad news than good.

I cried because I feel helpless in the face of this kind of evil, because I know this is not what Allah really requires of his followers, but some people use his name in vain for evil purposes.

We work and we fight and we try and some days, all we can do is pray. Because there is hope. I have to believe there is hope.

The Importance of a Space

Our Chab Dai book club just finished Stephen Covey's 7 Habits for Highly Effective People, and our final discussion on Habit 7 centred around self-care, or what Covey calls the Four Dimensions of Renewal:

We got to talking about how caring for ourselves may look differently in this country and our line of work than it would elsewhere. I asked Helen, who has been here for 15 years, what she does to maintain a healthy lifestyle and balance living in a developing context and working in such a difficult sector as counter-trafficking. Among other things, she mentioned that her stress levels have been much improved since she and her husband had their own house built outside the city; it is indeed a very tranquil place, with  big garden, a lovely large kitchen, and quiet surroundings. We enjoy retreating there from time to time!

Sam and me hanging out in "Auntie" Helen's pool

This got me thinking about the importance of a space, a place you can withdraw to, and how important that your home be a place of refuge and rest. I think this is especially important when your daily interactions will inevitably include at least one moment of discomfort, misunderstanding, or frustration. It's just the territory living overseas comes with.

Although I wouldn't want to live outside an urban area (I am a city girl through and through!) Charlie and I have put effort into creating an oasis we can retreat to as well as a welcome place for others to find fun and peace in. It even made it into our recently written family purpose statement!*

Six months after arriving in Cambodia, we moved out of our "perfectly fine" apartment, which was actually causing a lot of stress in our lives (overbearing landlady, plumbing and electric in constant need of repair, not feeling at home in our own home). It was only when we moved into our current home that I realised how much our living space was stressing me out and impeding my transition and settling in process.

We now live in a 5th floor flat that I LOVE, though still has its pros and cons. No elevator means everyone who comes over arrives out of breath, including me, and I often have to do it carrying grocery bags and 23 lbs. of squirmy toddler. On the bright side, being so high up on a main street means we're away from the street noise (and I'm getting legs of steel).

Pro: we're investing in artwork! This one is by British,
Phnom Penh-based artist, David Holliday
Con: I do not like the murky brownish orange that
covers our front gate and stair railings.

Half our apartment is a large covered balcony and we have an outdoor kitchen, which, despite my initial reservations, I actually love (for one thing, cooking doesn't heat up the whole house). It does mean more dust and occasional rainstorm invading our living space, but it also means cool evening breezes and a large communal area that is great for receiving people.

The biggest pro is it feels like home and is our oasis in the heart of a bustling neighbourhood - I'll tell you about up-and-coming ToPo another time ;) Although there are still many times we feel like outsiders in Cambodia, our apartment is a safe place that has helped us feel at home in this country.

Charlie & Sam enjoying a puzzle in our outdoor
living room/kitchen

*If you're interested in how we developed our purpose statement, we used a easy tool that has you answer a number of questions and narrow down your family priorities. You can find it here: http://bit.ly/PS3Hr7.

The Economics of Freedom

by Julia Smith-Brake

Originally posted at Along the Paths of Justice, Chab Dai's team blog.

Speaking of heroes, I recently got to meet one of mine. At the beginning of March, a few of us from Chab Dai were lucky enough to receive some coveted tickets to a Social Business Hub event to hear Professor Muhammad Yunus speak. Having had the opportunity (and squandered it!) a couple years ago to meet another development hero of mine, Amartya Sen, I was not going to chicken out this time!

The event was wonderful, it began with a panel discussion on the infrastructure of social businesses which included the different definitions of what a social business is, the biggest challenges that can arise and the kind of achievements you can expect in this sector. After a session of workshop presentations, Professor Yunus gave a thorough and superb talk emphasising the concept of freedom within economics. At the end of the event, a Cambodian social business acrobatic group, Phare, gave an amazing performance.

What I love about leaders such as Mohammad Yunus and Amartya Sen is their ability to link, so eloquently and well-thought out, the connections of economics to freedom. Sen’s theoretical model is based on helping individuals and communities achieve freedom. This freedom can be economic freedom, personal freedom, societal freedom and/or the freedom to be who they want to be. Ultimately, all development should be viewed through the lens of freedom. Yunus’ foundational logic for lending money to the poor, which led to the creation of microfinance itself, is essentially, “If I lend money to the poor myself, they won’t have to go to a loan shark, and they will be free!” So many of the poor stay poor or sink even more into a cycle of debt and poverty because of predatory lending practices; and though there is no such thing as a silver bullet in poverty reduction, Yunus saw microfinance as a powerful tool to combat the violence of these practices.

As an aspiring economic sociologist engaged in counter-trafficking, this is music to my soul. It also, in my opinion, promotes the thought that communities have within themselves the potential to end exploitation and trafficking, and the counter-trafficking community’s job is to come alongside them to enable and support their journey to freedom.

Yunus is an inspiring person; after all the challenges he has faced, he remains so positive and hopeful for the future. He truly believes this generation’s youth has the most power and potential in history, and keeps pushing the boundaries of innovative business and economics. At the end of his address, he said (paraphrased), “Poor people are like bonsai trees, there is nothing wrong with the seed, society just didn’t give them room to grow. We need to fundamentally change the system to give them room to grow.”

I am a big believer in “doing with” in development, not “doing for,” and Yunus’ ending words inspire me. Fighting poverty and violence not only requires giving the poor and the oppressed space to grow and achieve their potential, but also working tirelessly to change a system that accepts the status quo and allows a continuous cycle of violence and poverty in the world.