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Monday 27 April 2009

Cambodia

We arrived in Cambodia by boat, up the Mekong river where people live and work, floating or on stilts. Phnom Penh appears in the distance, strangely fresh as you get close, until you realise that the Kymer Rouge destroyed so much as international money is trying to get the country 'fit for tourism'. 'Fit' means expensive looking, chic and swish, palaces for the privileged next to the shanties of the poor. How do you measure ambition and progress? 'I can now afford a pair of shoes' a guide admitted. Becoming a guide is high-status, an important goal.

How do you come to terms with a country where the legitimate government murders three million or so citizens without trial? Even the killing fields themselves are tourist destinations. The Kymer Rouge ruled 1975, filling the void of the American departure, to 1979, when the Vietnamese army threw them out for killing villagers in Mekong delta villages they coveted. Cham Muslims were also targeted for genocide. This was an extreme nationalism - you became a traitor simply by disagreeing with the ruling party and breaking rules, such as not to cry out when being flogged with wire or 'electrified'. A school called "The 7th January 1979 School" celebrates day of liberation. To buy arms the KR made their population, themselves starving, produce rice for China in return for weapons and landmines - unfortunately made of plastic so difficult now to find and defuse. The main victims were educated people such as teachers and doctors, as potential threats of opposition, so there is now a black hole in education and professional skills. How also do you come to terms with the fact that the KR, after their merciless cruelty was well known, were apparently funded by Britain and the USA in the 1980s for their guerrilla opposition to the Vietnamese at a time when Reagan was haranguing the United Nations for the Vietnamese to withdraw?

It is a country of ghosts - that is reminders of past brutalities and the loss of valuable people and their skills. One young man could not marry because he had a family to support since his father's death. Trauma is not far beneath the surface. Tourists are viewed as part of the solution and luxury hotels are stringing up which make heavy use of resources - gardens being watered, swimming pools, unlimited water in the rooms when outside there is shortage; clean sheets every night, towels twice a day. There is a power relationship between the tourist, the customer, and those servicing them. Bad feedback, even an unthoughtful comment, could be a factor in whether that person's family eats or not. I will long remember the look of terror in a young maid's eyes when earrings went missing and she thought she might be accused - quickly remedied with the hotel, but a sign of life at the edge.

Cambodia needs tourism, but responsible and thoughtful tourism which respects the local people, however lowly the tourist assumes them to be. All are grafting to feed a family. Most are gracious about reverses, but smiles and the absence of insults go a long way. Cambodia also needs to become diversified. People dream of careers in IT, though not having easy access to a computer. There are, as in Laos and Vietnam, craft skills in the villages that need markets. Too much of too similar goods are offered at local markets. Fairtrade arrangements to import goods to affluent countries would go a long way to better the health and education of families. The tourist does not have sufficient suitcase space to make much of a difference.

For information on projects to alleviate poverty and develop education, see www.concertcambodia.org. ConCERT means Connecting Communities, Environment & Responsible Tourism.

Saturday 18 April 2009

Vietnam

But for an accident of geography, had I been born in the USA I would have been sent to Vietnam in 1966 to take part in such events as the Tet Offensive. The roads and villages have many war cemeteries to remember the north Vietnamese dead. The War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) explicitly catalogues war crimes committed by the French and Americans on simple villagers, many of whom had to live underground in caves and tunnels, superbly engineered with hand tools, to escape B52 bomb strikes. Why? Because killing 'communists' provided political capital for politicians. The military strategy was to kill more Vietnamese militants than could be recruited. If ordered by your government to kill little brown villagers, it helps to demonise them - thus was born the term 'vietcong', Vietnamese communist, VC, 'Victor Charlie' or simply 'Charlie'. The communists benefited from local resistance fighters who were largely not communist. Most Vietnamese just wanted peace, freedom and independence, just as occupied nations wanted in world war 2, and as Britain would have fought for had we been invaded in 1940. How sad that this orgy of killing and destruction should be targeted at such charming people. The faces of corpses in the War Remants Museum were those visible on the streets, ordinary nice poeple. I was especially struct not by blood and gore but by a photograph of a mother trying to swim be young children across a river away from B52 bombs. Total desperation, just like any mother whose children were threatened. That still is haunting. Who photographed it? and why? One war photograher said "Stop, I want a photograph". The group were terrified women and children. Ten seconds later they were machine gunned, but the photographer "did not look back". War must always be obscene. Defensive wars against aggressors may always be needed, but need clear aims and planning to protect ordinary people. Today, Americans are welcome in Vietnam, and war veterans encouraged to meet up with their former enemy. Still under a communist government, the process of reconciliation has begun

After experiencing Hanoi traffic (and Ho Chi Minh City traffic is worse) I can understand chaos theory a little better. There are millions of motor bikes in Vietnam, which swirl around the road in all directions. Vehicle drivers weave and honk without regard to lanes, pushing, shoving. Traffic moves in from side roads without pause or hesitation. We crossed a main road on a zebra crossing; but nothing stops, and there is no pause in cars and especially motorbikes across four carriageways. Provided that you inch forward making no sudden movements, nothing hits you and you are across. Even a one-legged woman crossed safely. I saw no accidents, even little ones. People hustle and harry for advantage, but at the appropriate moment give way. If they did not do so, British style, there would have been immediate multiple pile-ups. All is good natured, no tempers raised, no road-rage, no retaliations. It was described to me as 'organised chaos', but it was really an equilibrium reached by actions and reactions which cancel each other out. It is purposeful, not random, unemotional, indeed beyond emotions. Emotions would distract the constant level of attentiveness. British drivers, with their blaring radios, mobile phones and shaking fists, would not last a minute in Hanoi. Where the traffic, as Cziksentmihali might say, 'flows'.

Vietnam is post-colonial. The French, overlords until world war 2, made the mistake of returning. They and their allies, especially the Americans, paid a high price for that, as did the local people. Today the houses and tombs of puppet monarchs are open both as examples of decadence and opulence (there is plenty of evidence of royal spoilt brats) and quality workmanship by artisans. There is a fierce independence of the local people, and justified sense of hurt. The Americans were spurred on by an ideology of hate against communists, personified by Senator McCarthy, but furthered by a succession of presidents who thought, falsely, that these were battles they could win.

The new colonists are tourists. Along the coast, beaches are being walled in to keep out locals. The hotels and resorts are likely to be owned by foreign investors, who cream off the top dollar. There are of course jobs for the local people, and markets for souvenirs. However there is a subservience to tourists that most do not deserve; it is important to please tourists if only to protect oneself about damaging complaints. Given the foul temper of the average tourist on a bad day, survival might hang on the whim of the rich. The hotels are the new palaces. Tourism might be a hope for economic prosperity, but not without stress. Tourists themselves need to consider trips to such places as building friendships. We too easily slip into complaining customer mode. We demand too much, too large a share of rare resources, such as water and power. As responsible tourists we should consume as little as possible, and make as much contribution to the local economy as possible. The local people as as dependent on tourists as they were on the French. They have craft skills, such as weaving, textiles and sculpture, but there is too much too similar, and training too conservative. They need wider markets; but also they need the encouragement to be creative. The children need to approach the 21st century differently. Yet there are hopeful youngsters, and I hope that their life choices soon broaden.

Laos

Hand-made products. A phenomenal amount of time and effort goes into weaving and other handicrafts. These 'cottage industries' dominate life in village homes, with children following their parents, especially girls following their mothers onto looms. Villages have numerous stalls each selling the same thing. The night markets present a never ending display of items so similar that supply must outstrip demand. What took many hours to produce ends up being sold for just 5 dollars. My heart goes out to them. If their market was widened through fairtrade export, they might have a better chance to get the proper price for their work, at greater volume. What a difference that would make to their lifestyle, health and education. I saw signs of this beginning in a small way - where products also had become more creative and less traditional, selling at huge prices to the affluent in their American and European mansions . This could also happen at more affordable levels.

Buddhism. It is odd how religion manages to reverse itself. As the new year festival approached (Songkran in Thailand) worshippers bought birds in bamboo cages to set free. This gives them 'merit', some ethereal benefit which might enhance their multi-life destiny. In fact, these poor birds are traumatised as they were neglectfully handled, in a very hot son, by children as young as three. What started as an act of kindness has become a culture of cruelty, for profit. The birds, once released, will be rapidly recaught and offered for sale again. Buddhism teaches respect for life; this exploitation is unpardonable. The children sell such things instead of going to school, so they will become the uneducated poor of the next generation.

The global village. Our guide had learnt English, his sister French, his brother Japanese. They will never be in competition for work. Russian is spoken in their home, since father once lived there. Newspapers carry British, Italian and Spanish football results, as well as baseball results. English football (or at least the big four clubs) on satellite has a strong fan base. I was bemused by a word search in a Laos newspaper which demanded an in depth knowledge of the geography and villages of Devon. Not surprising that no one had won the prize: I certainly could not do it without an atlas. American music and films were other cultural exports. Cultural colonialism is alive and well.