Enlisted For Service

Monkey Business

2008-12-12T11:37:00.003+07:00

In keeping with the theme of “you never know what you’ll see in Cambodia”, here is another interesting sighting. I was hanging some laundry out on the balcony recently, and the kids in the school next door were yelling at me to get my attention. They use these American sightings for English practice, and sometimes yell things such as, “Hello!”, “How are you?”, “What is your name?” Once someone yelled out to Kate, “Can you help me?” I’m not sure how she was supposed to help, but it made for a good laugh.

Anyway, these most recent excited shouts were accompanied by wild gesticulations and were in Khmer, so rather than ignoring them, I looked to see what they were trying to tell me. On the neighbors’ balcony were four monkeys! They were frolicking about, jumping from one rooftop and balcony to the next! That was certainly not a sight that I have been accustomed to seeing every day!

There are a few places around town with monkeys running wild, but none of them are anywhere near our house. I have no idea where they came from, we certainly don’t live in a natural monkey habitat! Fortunately they didn’t try to get in the house. One monkey loose in a house can wreak havoc, let alone four!

School Days

2008-11-21T21:10:00.004+07:00

You never really know what you are going to see here in Cambodia.

There is a high-school right next to our house. Literally. I can look out of my bedroom or kitchen windows and make eye contact with daydreaming students who are gazing out the school window at the highly fascinating back wall of our house.

Today at lunch, I was in the kitchen, and noticed something different going on in the nearest classroom. All of the students were sitting quietly at their desks (this never happens), looking attentively toward the front of the classroom. Something was up.

I noticed that the teacher was calling students up to the front of the classroom, two or three at a time. The students were each presenting their notebooks for inspection; the teacher was holding a belt in his hand, along with his correction pen. It took me a few minutes to catch on to what was happening.

As each student presented his work for inspection, the teacher was marking corrections and then returning the notebook to the student. Once he had graded each of the two or three students’ exercises, he then proceeded to hit them one at a time, on the arm with the belt! Occasionally, a student would be allowed to return to his seat without receiving any beating. As I watched, open-mouthed and astounded, I began to notice a pattern. Students who had not made any errors were allowed to return to their seats unscathed. Those who had made mistakes received one slap with the belt for each mistake made.

I guess the moral of the story is: Be very glad that you did not have to attend high-school in Cambodia! In addition to receiving lashes with a belt, the students must also be at school at 6:30 each morning, six days a week. No only is this an unpleasant experience in itself, it also makes the American neighbor girls slightly grouchy when you wake them up every morning with your raucous shouts and ceaseless chatter.

The Beginning of the End

2008-11-17T21:23:00.007+07:00

It has begun. The process of saying good-bye. Never a pleasant experience; even less so when you have poured an immense amount of love and prayer into relationships that you now have to separate from.

Last week was my final week of work with World Relief and the Community Protection of Children program. While I will still be in Phnom Penh for a few more weeks, I will not be working at the World Relief office, so there have had to be some goodbyes. Last week, during three days together at an annual staff retreat, I was able to share some more relaxed time with my wonderful friends. It was good to laugh together, and have a chance to meet many of their beautiful families.

As I look over the last nine months, I can see that there has been fruit for my labors. The development of CPC continues to progress; active staff training will hopefully begin very early in 2009. Mlis has taken over the reins in a very capable way, and I am sure that she will continue to do an excellent job in my absence. There is much more to come, and I look forward to seeing how the Lord will continue to use CPC to war against the evils of human trafficking in the Kingdom of Cambodia.

As I think of what else God has planned for this beautiful, yet struggling land, I am sure that God has much, much more in store for Cambodia. It has been a privilege to have played even this small role in His very big plan for these last several months. I look forward to seeing where my next steps will take me, as I finalize my goodbyes over the next few weeks and start to think about adjusting to life in America again. It has been a wonderful journey.

Hit And Run

2008-11-01T12:12:00.002+07:00

It all began with a desperate plea for chocolate.

Several of my coworkers were out of town this past week for a week of meetings. I was planning to join them on Thursday evening, and on Thursday morning, I began receiving frantic messages begging me to bring chocolate when I came. Always happy to satisfy the cravings of my chocoholic friends, I decided to stop in at a little convenience store on my way home from the office for lunch.

I was riding my bicycle, and although I avoid the busiest streets as much as possible, the emergency chocolate run necessitated that I ride along one of the busier streets in my neighborhood. Things were going well. No near-death experiences, or false alarms. The convenience store (which, by-the-way, is named Happy Zone Show Mart – what a name!) was in my sights.

And then it happened. I was skillfully negotiating my way around a gigantic pothole, traffic swirling around me. I was on one side of the pothole, a fast-moving SUV was on the other side. Coming up quickly between us, oblivious to the gaping hole in the ground, was a motorbike.

The motorbike driver was suddenly faced with a number of difficult decisions. Hit the pothole, and flatten a tire. Swerve to the left, hit the car and cause no personal injury, but be embroiled in long negotiations about the accident. Swerve to the right, hit the poor foreign girl on the bike, maybe injure her, but drive off quickly before she has a chance to yell at you.

Unfortunately for the poor foreign girl on the bike (yes, that would be me), he opted to swerve to the right, effectively knocking her off her bike and into the pothole, which also happened to be full of mud. Not waiting around to be held responsible for any injures that he may have caused, he sped off, leaving me and my bike there in the pothole. Thankfully, there were no major injuries, just a lot of little scratches and a few minor bruises. I got up, mounted my bike again, and continued down the street.

I managed to fulfill my errand of mercy, purchase the necessary chocolate at Happy Zone Show Mart, and then head the rest of the way home to scrub out my wounds. Incidentally, it is a lot more fun to scrub mud out of someone else’s wounds than it is to scrub it out of your own!

O Church, Arise!

2008-10-31T12:00:00.000+07:00

A call to the Church to battle against evil and for freedom and the truth of the Gospel, in the Name and Power of our Great God!

O church, arise and put your armor on;
Hear the call of Christ our captain;
For now the weak can say that they are strong
In the strength that God has given.
With shield of faith and belt of truth
We'll stand against the devil's lies;
An army bold whose battle cry is "Love!"
Reaching out to those in darkness.

Our call to war, to love the captive soul,
But to rage against the captor;
And with the sword that makes the wounded whole
We will fight with faith and valor.
When faced with trials on ev'ry side,
We know the outcome is secure,
And Christ will have the prize for which He died—
An inheritance of nations.

Come, see the cross where love and mercy meet,
As the Son of God is stricken;
Then see His foes lie crushed beneath His feet,
For the Conqueror has risen!
And as the stone is rolled away,
And Christ emerges from the grave,
This vict'ry march continues till the day
Ev'ry eye and heart shall see Him.

So Spirit, come, put strength in ev'ry stride,
Give grace for ev'ry hurdle,
That we may run with faith to win the prize
Of a servant good and faithful.
As saints of old still line the way,
Retelling triumphs of His grace,
We hear their calls and hunger for the day
When, with Christ, we stand in glory.

Keith Getty & Stewart Townend

A Glance Backward… Or Is It Forward?

2008-10-30T10:54:00.002+07:00

I have been in a somewhat reflective mood lately. As I look toward the end of my time with the Community Protection of Children project, I am both saddened and encouraged. In just a few short weeks, my time here with World Relief will be drawing to a close.

I am saddened at the thought that I will soon be bidding farewell to my new friends, Mlis and Martha. I have come to love them deeply as we have worked together on the various projects within CPC. I will also have to say goodbye to countless other World Relief staff members who have also become my friends over the last several months. It is sad to think that these months of daily interactions with my new friends will soon be coming to an end.

On the other hand, I am encouraged by the progress that I have seen. As Mlis in particular has grown in her capacity for professional communication and networking, I can see some fruit of my labors. As she has been strengthened, she has been able to learn more about human trafficking in Cambodia, and has incorporated what she has learned into the community training materials that she is writing. We are hopeful that the final lessons and visual aid materials will be completed by the end of 2008, so that early in 2009, our community-based human trafficking prevention programs can begin in earnest.

Mlis and Martha are passionate in their desire to save the girls and boys, and men and women of Cambodia from the terrors of trafficking. It is encouraging to know that I have had some small role to play in helping to make their program a success. As “my girls” carry on in their very important work, I have great confidence that the Lord will use their efforts to further His Kingdom here in the Kingdom of Cambodia.

“For I the Lord love justice; I hate robbery and wrong; I will faithfully give them their recompense, and I will make an everlasting covenant with them. Their offspring shall be known among the nations, and their descendants in the midst of the peoples; all who see them shall acknowledge them, that they are an offspring the Lord has blessed.” Isaiah 61:8-9

Um... That's News to Me!!

2008-10-23T10:41:00.004+07:00

I love Cambodia. I am happy here. I am already dreading the day in December when I must board my flight back to the States.

I have spent a few days in nearby Thailand, but overall, I haven't wandered far from my home in Phnom Penh. Imagine my surprise when "I" suddenly popped up in Nigeria earlier this week!

Somehow my email account was hacked into, and a Nigerian scam letter was sent from my email address to my entire contact list, in my name. They had even taken the pains to type my name as a signature at the end of the letter.

According to the letter, "I" was stranded in Nigeria during a business trip. Apparently "I" lost all of "my" belongings and money when the hotel "I" was staying at was attacked by armed robbers. "I" was very confused by the whole thing, and asked that you please wire $1,500 US dollars to "me" ASAP. Although "I" could only communicate via regular mail, "I" somehow was able to send this one email. "I" had very little time to write the email, but "I" did manage to find the time to give very detailed instructions for the wire transfer.

The fatal flaw in the plan was that "I" sent the email to myself, which alerted me to the scam. Otherwise I may not have realized it before I was locked out of my account! In the great thoroughness of the scam, my password and login information were changed, so I now have no access to that email account!

I have spent the last several days trying to get things sorted out. Creating new email accounts, changing all of my passwords, reporting the scam to the appropriate authorities, reassuring concerned friends, trying to get my old email account unlocked so that I can access important information that I have archived there... In short, it has not been fun.

I have never really had a desire to go to Nigeria, and now that "I" have been there and been robbed at gunpoint, "I" probably will not be "returning" anytime soon.

More Secrets Revealed

2008-10-21T10:29:00.004+07:00

It recently became an established fact that I am, in actual fact, a Queen. It feels good to finally have it out in the open; I had spent considerable effort concealing my true identity from the world. This news has been an amazing and delightful discovery for the rest of the world. And as wonderful as this has been, it seems that there are still more enchanting facets of my true character that have recently come to light. Even I had not been fully aware of the most recently revealed information.

A few weeks ago I was chatting with my dear friend from church, Savath. He said, "Deanna, I have learned a good thing about your name. I was reading the Khmer and English dictionary, and I decided to see what the meaning of your name is. It is a very good thing."

I of course, was curious as to why he was reading a dictionary, but decided to let that slide for the moment. "So, you have learned a good thing about my name? What have you learned?"

"Deanna, I have learned that you are the beautiful angel from the moon. The dictionary says that in Khmer, your name is about the beautiful angel."

I hasten to assure you, that this was news to me, as much as it was to everyone else who had gathered to listen in on the conversation. The rest of my Khmer friends who were gathered around thought it was quite interesting too! I pretended to fluff my wings and shine my halo.

As new as all of this is to me, I have decided to fully embrace my new identity in all of its glory. My only question is, how should I introduce myself from now on? "Hello, my name is Deanna, I am the Queen Angel." Or should I go with "Angel Queen"?

Ah, the tough choices that we royalty must face every day!

He Had Compassion...

2008-10-09T21:58:00.004+07:00

Neon lights. Crowded parking lots. Flashy high-rises. City center. High class. Shabby wooden huts. Outskirts of town. Working class.

The brothels of Phnom Penh are alive and well. Or at least, as well as brothels can be.

They are everywhere. Filled with women and girls, most of whom have very little choice but to continue selling themselves to whoever steps foot in the door. Although the business of prostitution is technically illegal in Cambodia, the "oldest profession on earth" continues to flourish unabated.

Each time I ride past one of the little wooden houses filled with beautiful young women (along with one or two older ones whose job it is to sell the younger, more beautiful ones) or the flashy high-rise night clubs, I feel a wave of heavy and haunting emotion. There is a deep feeling of profound sadness. A feeling too, of disgust. Not for the women, but for the darkness of sin that makes such establishments a part of everyday life in Cambodia. Again, there is the conflict between loathing those who abuse these women, and loving them in the way that Jesus would.

The men are no more eternally lost than the women. The women are no less eternally lost than the men. Before God, the souls of the abused and the abuser are equally precious and coveted. I struggle to wrap my finite mind around that thought, and yet I know it to be true. I pray that my thoughts and feelings would coalesce with those of Jesus:

"When [Jesus] saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd." Matthew 9:36

The Real Thing - II

2008-10-04T21:52:00.005+07:00

As promised, I am sharing another of the entries from World Relief's art contest for survivors of human trafficking. As before, I have retained much of the original translation, even though it is somewhat imperfect.

Many parents are just concerned about their family’s financial situation. They never care about their girl’s situations even though they hear many stories about the girls or boys that were trafficked.

This one girl's mother just focused on money and the things that she hopes to get when her daughter goes to work with this woman. The woman promises the girl’s mother that she will care for the girl and will provide her with enough of what she needs. She says she would not let the girl do too much work, and she will send the mother the salary every month.

Now the girl was very upset and sad because she knew some of her friends were sold to Malaysia and Thailand. Some friends had to work in prostitution and she was worried about herself. She worried about HIV/AIDS for herself because this disease can not be healed.

The girl wants parents to care and protect their children from trafficking.

A New Proposal

2008-09-30T21:06:00.003+07:00

I should have moved to Cambodia much sooner than I did. Really. I should have. At the current rate that I have been receiving proposals of marriage, I might have actually found The One by now.

These proposals and flirtations provide no end of entertainment and amusement. As awkward as things may be at the time, I always come away with a new supply of stories and laughs to share with my single-lady friends who have experienced the same thing. (I once had an entire village propose to me on behalf of all their single men. That was interesting, to say the least!)

Today I had one of my most eligible proposals to date. The guy was gainfully employed. (As a parking attendant/security guard) He was a student at “university”. (Studying economics) He spoke English. (Sort of)

I had just arrived back in Phnom Penh via bus following a long weekend at the beach, and was waiting outside “Lucky Burger” (Cambodia’s version of McDonald's) for Kate to emerge with our lunch. I stayed outside with our mototaxi drivers to make sure they didn’t try to take off with our bags. Initially, my mototaxi driver was trying to flirt with me, but I was able to brush him off somewhat politely by pretending not to understand what he was saying to me in Khmer. He didn’t speak English, so he gave up after a few minutes, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief.

The tranquility was short-lived however, as the security guard saw his opening and swooped in. He was positively beaming from ear-to-ear, and began speaking with me in passable English. He did most of the talking, about himself, his studies, his job… He asked loads of questions, and I responded with the vaguest and shortest answers possible.

Guard: “Hello. How are you?” Me: I am fine, thank you.

"Where do you come from?" I live in Phnom Penh.

"But, where do you come from?" I am from America.

"Does your family live in Cambodia?" No, they do not. (Red-flag question. The Khmer often mean “husband and children” when they ask about your “family”. I usually choose to pretend that they mean parents and siblings. The contrived ignorance sometimes works in my favor.)

"Why do you live in Cambodia?" I work here. (He also wanted to know how much money I made, and was rather shocked when I told him that I am a volunteer, and that the organization does not pay me anything. I thought it wisest not to mention that I do receive support from the States!)

"How old are you?" (BIG red-flag that The Question will be popped soon) I am very old. (The Khmer like a laugh, so sometimes that will distract them)

"How old?" I am twenty-five. (I really am very old by Cambodian standards to “still” be single)

"Do you have a husband?" I do not yet have a husband. (It is now only a matter of time before he will ask to be my husband. Hurry up Kate! Why are they taking so long with our food?)

"Why do you not have a husband?" I am so busy with my work, that maybe I do not have time for a husband.

"Would you like to have a husband?" (Silence from me, as I feigned deep interest in the traffic and “didn’t hear” him. Maybe he would let it go. Maybe Kate would show up with the food soon and rescue me. Maybe the sky would fall…)

"Maybe you would like me to be your husband." (WHERE ARE YOU KATE????)

Fortunately, at that moment, Kate appeared bearing food. Quickly ascertaining the situation, she skillfully extricated me from my predicament and we headed home to enjoy our lunch. And a laugh.

Making New Friends

2008-09-23T12:46:00.003+07:00

It is always good to have friends, and know that you can count on them for a smile. I have been realizing lately, just how many new acquaintances I have made around town.

There is the DVD lady at the market. As one of her faithful customers, she asks me where I have been if I haven’t been to see her in a while. She notices when Kate visits without me, and asks about me. She knows the movies that I like, and will scour the entire market to find a film that I ask for, if she doesn’t have it herself.

There is my favorite moto-taxi driver. He speaks a little English and I speak a little Khmer, so we laugh with/at each other, and get along famously. He seems to feel somewhat responsible for my safety when I am with him; he’s always telling me to watch out for the “bad boy” who might try to take my bags. He has introduced me to his young daughter, who is so cute that I just wanted to squeeze her. The other day I was riding down the street with Kate on her motorbike when he drove by going the opposite way. He was smiling, yelling, and waving hugely, just to get my attention to say “Hi”.

There are the waitresses and waiters at a favorite little café who know that I always order a lime soda with extra sugar. They laugh when they see me coming, because they know what my order is going to be. It really throws them if, on the rare occasion, I order something different. (“Gasp! She ordered food this time! And Coke! Is she feeling OK?”)

They may not all qualify as close friendships. I couldn’t sit and talk for hours to any of them. (My vocabulary and conversational repertoire only last about 7 minutes.) But it’s fun, nevertheless, to see friendly and familiar faces around town. It makes Phnom Penh feel a little less foreign, and a little more like home. Which it is.

"Special" Massage?

2008-09-20T19:48:00.004+07:00

Last night I was hanging out with my room mate Kate. After a long and busy week, we were both ready for a relaxing Friday evening. Before meeting friends for dinner, we decided to visit our new favorite massage place for foot massages and pedicures. (These are amazingly affordable here in Cambodia. I will probably suffer withdrawal symptoms when I return to the States, where the prices are much more prohibitive!)

We were unwinding in air-conditioned comfort, the lights were low, and quiet music was playing in the background. The foot massages were progressing wonderfully. A few other customers had come in for various services offered by the spa, but we remained undisturbed. The relaxation was making good headway.

And then. We heard another customer enter, and from the other side of the partition, we heard the following conversation:

Spa manager: Good evening sir. How can we help you?

Potential Customer: (Man with European accent) I would like a massage. What kind of massage do you have?

Spa Manager: Here is the list of the massages.

Potential Customer: (Quiet for a moment as he perused the list of massage offerings) What is the difference between the body massage and the oil massage?

Spa Manager: (She politely explained the differences)

Potential Customer: Do you have the young ladies to do the massage?

(At this point our ears perked up, and Kate and I looked over at each other with eyes open wide; this was taking a strange turn.)

Spa Manager: Yes, the massage is given by the ladies.

Potential Customer: Yes, I know. But I want the massage for the man with the young lady.

Spa Manager: (Silence. I could imagine her look of embarrassed confusion.)

Potential Customer: You know what I am saying? The massage for the man, with the young lady.

Spa Manager: Yes, I know what you are asking. We do not have that here.

(Kate and I still had wide eyes. I mouthed, “I can’t believe we are hearing this!”)

Potential Customer: So, you do not have the ladies to give the man a special massage?

Spa Manager: No (more stony silence)

A minute later, the door opened again, and the slimy guy oozed his way back out onto the street.

While many massage parlors in Cambodia are also fronts for prostitution, Kate and I had felt sure that our new favorite place was not one of them. We were relieved to find that our confidence was well placed. The demure, modestly-uniformed women are skilled in massage and give great manicures, but one glance should tell the perceptive sex-tourist that they are not selling themselves. The guy who was asking for the "special" massage (code for sexual "services") was extremely persistent, and maybe a little obtuse. Fortunately, his persistence was not rewarded.

Eventually, we were able to relax again, and enjoy the rest of our massages and the pedicure. As we were leaving, I felt like grabbing a pen and paper and creating the following notice to post on the door: “Creeps not welcome here. Keep moving, and don’t stop until you get back to where you came from.”

Effectual Worship

2008-09-14T15:27:00.006+07:00

Stained glass at Ave Maria Church, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

There is none like You among the gods, O Lord, nor are there any works like Yours. All the nations You have made shall come and worship before You, O Lord, and shall glorify Your name. Psalm 86:8-9

But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father is seeking such people to worship Him. God is spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth. John 4:23-24

And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know Him who is true; and we are in Him who is true, in His Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life. Little children, keep yourselves from idols. I John 5:20-21

Church at the Floating Villages of Tonle Sap Lake, Cambodia

Futile Worship

2008-09-11T11:17:00.013+07:00

Some words regarding the futility of idol worship from One much wiser than I.

Incense burning beneath trees in Vietnam

You shall know that I am the Lord, when their slain lie among their idols around their altars, on every high hill, on all the mountaintops, under every green tree, and under every leafy oak, wherever they offered pleasing aroma to all their idols. Ezekiel 6:13

Woman bowing before golden Buddhas in Myanmar

To whom will you liken me and make me equal, and compare me, that we may be alike? Those who lavish gold from the purse, and weigh out silver in the scales, hire a goldsmith, and he makes it into a god; then they fall down and worship! They lift it to their shoulders, they carry it,they set it in its place, and it stands there; it cannot move from its place. If one cries to it, it does not answer or save him from his trouble. Isaiah 46:5-7

Crocodile Temple in Myanmar - built to honor the god of the waters

Although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles. Romans 1:21-23

Logical Solutions to Trafficking?

2008-09-05T15:01:00.003+07:00

I am sometimes astounded by people’s perceptions of human trafficking and the solutions that they propose for its eradication. Last weekend I was minding my own business, waiting in line at the ATM with Kate, when the lady in front of us – an American tourist – decided she wanted to chat. The tourists I run into are usually surprised to learn that I actually live in Phnom Penh, and often ask what I am doing here. Usually their curiosity is satisfied when I somewhat predictably reply that I work for an NGO – there are hundreds of them here. They say it’s nice that I am living here helping all the poor, helpless Cambodians, and then go on about their touring. (Their perspective, not mine!)

Well, that generalized little tidbit of information wasn’t enough to satisfy this particular lady. She wanted details. “Do you like it here? Which NGO do you work for? What kind of programs do they have? Which specific program do you work with?”

Upon hearing that I work with human trafficking prevention, she suddenly became very animated. “Oh! That is just the greatest thing. That is such a problem all over the world. I just wish there was some way we could stop it. I actually have a theory on how we could stop human trafficking.” She was really on a roll.

Before I could get a word in, she was off and running again, “I think that if we just legalize drugs, the demand for trafficking in humans will go down. I mean, the two seem like they are so closely linked. Of course, I’ve never used drugs myself, not even tobacco, I’m really anti-drug. But, if we just make the drugs legal, then there wouldn’t be so much need for human trafficking around the world.” She prattled on for a few more minutes, and then I had to politely excuse myself so I could take my turn at the ATM.

As we walked away, Kate and I looked at each other completely dazed. Wow! Who goes around spouting off to random strangers, that they think all drugs should be legalized so that human trafficking can be eradicated? Where does that logic come from? I just shook my head in wonder, and then went on about my shopping in the market.

Interestingly enough, a story out of the UK came across my desk this week. It seems that with the advent of the declassification of cannabis (marijuana) in the UK, incidents of human trafficking have actually increased exponentially. The declassification means that penalties and punishment for manufacturing and selling cannabis have been dramatically reduced. As the demand for the drug has increased and the ability to produce it with impunity has expanded, there is now a larger demand for a disposable human labor force. Hundreds of Vietnamese boys are being trafficked into Britain to work in the cannabis factories and to carry out the more dangerous aspects of the drug trading business.

It would seem that our tourist friend’s logic doesn’t play out in real life. The condoning of one evil will not automatically ensure the demise of another. History has shown time and time again that sin and corruption lend themselves only to more sin and corruption. Scripture also speaks to this:

Do you not know that if you present yourselves to anyone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one whom you obey, either of sin, which leads to death, or of obedience, which leads to righteousness? Romans 6:16

One sin only leads to another, which eventually leads to death. The only lasting and most logical cure for the sins and tragedies of the world is obedient submission to the rule of Christ. Obedience to Him – the One who makes all things new – leads to true freedom, lasting peace, endless joy. Truly, He alone is able to eradicate evil and wipe away all tears.

“Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” And He who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” Revelation 21: 3-5

The Real Thing - I

2008-08-27T21:03:00.005+07:00

Earlier this summer, World Relief hosted an art contest through the Community Protection of Children program. We were looking for posters that would tell us the stories of trafficking survivors. Girls who have survived the horrors of trafficking bravely shared their stories with us through their artwork.

We received permission to share the pictures and stories, and so, I have decided to share some of them with you. This is the first of several that I hope to be sharing in the coming weeks.

These are the real stories of girls who have triumphed through suffering. The stories were originally written in Khmer and then translated into English. I have chosen to retain much of the original translation, even though it is imperfect. Many of the girls spoke in third-person, so although they often refer to “a girl” or “the girl” they are actually referring to their own story. Each of the girls who shared their stories are now living in safe and healthy environments and are receiving supportive counsel and education.

One day a woman came to see a family in the countryside. She told the girl’s parents that she needed to find people who wanted to find jobs in Phnom Penh. She said she wanted them to come to work in a garment factory for a good salary. Because of the good salary, the parents decided to send the daughter without a discussion with her. The girl was very sad because she thought that her parents had been tricked, but she loved her parents and wanted to help her family, so she agreed to go with the woman even though she was scared.

That woman was very happy because she thought she could get a good price for the girl. When she arrived at the town, she took the girl to the brothel and let the men begin to bargain for a high price. At the end, one old man won her because he paid the highest price.

After her virginity was sold, the girl was sent to be a prostitute at a brothel. One Monday she served 3 men. On the Tuesday she served 5 men. Those men were using many bad ways to get sex with her.

Because she can be very passionate, the girl tried to find a way to complain about her situation at the police station. She complained there and then the woman who sold her was arrested and taken to jail.

Rodent Alert

2008-08-25T13:59:00.008+07:00

I have grown accustomed to sharing my living quarters with a variety of God’s small creatures. There are the omnipresent mosquitoes and other flying insects which are eaten by the spiders, which are kept under control by the geckoes, who also oblige us by eating the few random (giant) cockroaches that appear on occasion. It is a beautiful little ecosystem really, right within the four walls of my home. At times it even proves to be somewhat entertaining as we behold the unfolding drama of geckoes stalking their prey on our living room walls.

From time to time however, the sanctity of the system is interrupted by an invader of the mammalian persuasion. Particularly, those small mammals belonging to the rodent family – namely mice. The dispatch of these creatures is invariably left to me, as Kate is deathly afraid of small, furry rodents. (She is pretty sure that they harbor within themselves the ability to eat a human, therefore she prefers to keep her distance from the safe height of a chair or staircase.)

The Cambodian means of rodent dispatch is not nearly as humane as the means utilized by Americans. (Incidentally, if you are one of the sad, sorry folks who loves small furry rodents, you may want to stop reading at this point. I will pray that one day you come to your senses and begin to hate them.) Granted, most Cambodians aren’t bothered by a mouse or two in the house, but if they want to want to be rid of them, the most modern way of doing that is the Sticky Trap. A plastic saucer covered in glue that the mouse sticks to, resulting in the eventual death of the rodent after struggling to free itself.

I have had the opportunity to make use of a few of these during my time here. I must admit that I have very little sympathy for the sly little creatures that sneak in behind my back and then proceed to wreak havoc on my pantry. Therefore, I honestly do not have any qualms about murdering them by whatever means possible. Sticky Traps included.

Last weekend one very foolish little mouse dared rear its ugly head in the kitchen. It became my mission in life to dispose of its life ASAP. STAT, actually. Therefore, the Sticky Trap was deployed. Unfortunately, the first night of deployment, it only managed to catch one small gecko. Feeling it would be a waste of a sticky trap to throw it out before it had a decent chance to snare the actual target, I left it out for another night.

The next morning, I entered the kitchen to find that victory had been won. The mouse had been captured! (As it was attempting to eat the now dead gecko. May it rest in peace.) The mouse was only stuck by one foot and its tail, and was still struggling to get free. Not being willing to risk the escape of the mouse, I felt it was necessary to complete The Job. Therefore, I reached for the broom, with the intent striking a lethal blow to the rodent’s head, thus putting it out of its misery.

That was a poor choice of weapon on my part. You see, as I was preparing to land my deadly blow, the glue on the trap reached up, grabbed the broom, and sucked the broom straws into its vice-like grip. There was no freeing the broom, which left me with a bit of a dilemma. The mouse was still alive. Trapped beneath the broom. Screaming very loudly.

Enter the Mop Handle. Brave and virtuous, it presented itself to me as a willing instrument with which I could bludgeon the villain to death. It took several well-placed blows, but The Rodent is now history.

I, of course, had to dispose of the Sticky Trap/Broom/Mouse conglomeration, which meant parading it in front of all of the neighbors on my way to the garbage heap. I pretended not to notice the laughing and pointing, as I stoically paraded this trophy of victory before their observant eyes. Of course, we are now sans broom, but they only cost about $0.75, so it is easily replaced.

A small price to pay really, for the revered honor of bearing the title: Mouse Murderer of The Kate and Deanna Household.

The Secret Is Out

2008-08-14T22:00:00.002+07:00

There is something that I have been hiding from all of you. I’ve been trying to keep it quiet, but it seems to have leaked out somehow. All of my life I have tried to live as one of the ordinary, simple folk of Small Town, USA, but it seems that this phase of my life has come to an end. My Cambodian friends are loudly and laughingly proclaiming my secret – which is now secret no more – to the entire world.

You see, it seems that I am a Queen. I am royalty. Yes. I know. You are shocked and amazed. I think that I did a remarkable job of hiding my true identity from the entire known world for as long as I did. It took my coming all the way to Cambodia for someone to finally catch on.

I am sure that my Cambodian friends know what they are talking about. They are a brilliant and intuitive people. The meet me, and thinking that my name is “Diana”, they laugh and recognize who I am right away by saying, “Ah! You are a Queen!” They look at the person next to them and say, “She is a Queen!” They tell their friends who do not understand English, “She is a Queen” in Khmer. It is sensational news.

They think it’s great fun, so who am I to tell them otherwise? Deanna. Diana. Mmmmmm.... Close enough. As they say around here, it’s “Same. Same. But different.”

Besides, it’s a lot of fun to have someone poke their head out of their office and yell “Hello Queen!” as I stroll elegantly past their door in my silken robes and golden crown.

In The Jungles of Myanmar

2008-08-12T21:11:00.004+07:00

Several years ago, I first learned about the plight of the Karen people of Myanmar. A largely Christian group of people, they are persecuted and hunted down by the government of Myanmar both because they are Christian and because they are an ethnic minority. Fighting for their lives and independence since 1949, these remarkable people have continued to stand strong in their Faith through endless years of untold suffering and violence against their people.

Karen Soldiers who are fighting for their faith and freedom

I was privileged to spend several days at a Christian Freedom conference in Thailand last week. Basing out of the border town of Mae Sot, Thailand, our group was able to spend time in Karen refugee camps, schools, and even in Karen military outposts deep in the jungle across the Myanmar border. It was both inspiring and humbling to spend time with these Brothers and Sisters and to listen to their stories of hope in the face of unbelievably difficult and tragic circumstances.

Karen children at one of the jungle schools

Among our group were seven evangelists from the country of Laos, as well as one Brother from Bangladesh. It was very moving to watch these Brothers and Sisters, who are themselves daily in danger of losing their lives for the cause of Christ, minister to the needs of their Karen Family. They were truly fulfilling the biblical mandate to: “Remember those who are in prison as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated since you also are in the body.” Hebrews 13:3

For more information about the Karen or other groups of persecuted Christians in this region of the world, visit Christian Freedom International.

Getting Used To the Poison

2008-07-31T10:19:00.002+07:00

From my experience it would seem that mosquitoes are moderately attracted to most people. There are a few blessed people in this world whose blood holds no attraction whatsoever for them. To be honest, I don’t like those people, because I happen to belong to the other minority group – the distinguished few whose blood is a cornucopia of delight to the mosquitoes of the world.

So far, on each of the three continents where I have lived or visited for an extended period of time, the mosquitoes I have met have taken one taste of me and then reached for the megaphones and PA systems of the insect world to invite their friends, relatives, and distant acquaintances to come and join the feast. I do my best to repel them or scare them away, but even my best efforts have usually met with less than satisfactory results.

To compound the usual discomfort that accompanies most insect bites, my immune system has a history over-reacting to the injected poisons. The bites swell up into huge, flaming red welts and last for days, all the while itching incessantly. Antihistamines have helped to take the edge off, but nothing seemed to work for long, until…

Until, I had been exposed to enough of the poison. The interesting thing about the immune system is that after it has been inundated with an invading substance for long enough, it may no longer perceive it as foreign. At some point along the continuum of my exposure to mosquito poison, my body decided that it was a familiar substance, and no longer perceived it as a huge threat. After five months of near constant exposure, my immune reactions have finally started to calm down a bit.

The mosquitoes still bite me. Their appetite certainly has not been assuaged, but the swelling is smaller, the redness tamed, the itching less intense. Overall, I am a little less affected by the poison.

I can’t help thinking of poison in another sense as well. The poison of sin and corruption. It permeates the world in which we live. At first we notice it. It really bothers us. Gets under our skin. But then…

We get used to it. We see it every day. That’s just the way life is. There’s really nothing we can do about it anyway. We can’t rid the world of it, so we just try to make do. We go on with our own lives, wearing blinders and stopping up our ears so that the poison doesn’t affect us too much. After a while we may not even notice it any more. We may no longer hear the cries for help, the pleas for mercy.

I hope and pray that I never develop such an immunity.

On Effecting Cultural Change

2008-07-27T16:39:00.005+07:00

My musings lately have been along the lines of cultural change. What is it? How is it done? Why try to change a culture? What should be changed? What should not be changed? How do I know that the changes I would like to see are not merely based upon my own set of cultural values? What are the positive and negative effects of such changes? Is cultural change really possible? Is it really something to be desired?

A lot of questions; not nearly enough answers. Maybe not even any answers, but it does make for some interesting discussions among those of us in the expatriate community who are here for the purpose of effecting change within Cambodian society.

I am far from being an expert on cultural change, but I don’t think that precludes my thinking about this issue. I do know that no change will be long-lived or have far-reaching impact unless it comes from within. That is the beauty of working with national staff. My current role is to expand and build up their own capacities so that they can then go out into their own society with messages of hope and change.

Not only must the impetus for true change come from within the community, it must go deeper still, and come from within the heart. And that is the beauty of working with an organization that is able to offer hope and healing outside of the fatalistic framework of Buddhism. If Christ can change the hearts of man (and I know that He can), then through those changed hearts, He can effect a societal change that is far more powerful than any change that we could impose from the outside.

So, while we do what we can to clean up the surface filth and corruption, we rely on God for the monumental changes that only He can bring to fruition. The great thing about following the leading of the Holy Spirit in cultural change is that He always knows exactly what to change and how to change it, in a way that is contextually appropriate.

He’s pretty great like that. He’s God. He knows how to do anything. Even (or maybe, especially), if I don’t.

Ribbit... Ribbit...

2008-07-24T20:52:00.004+07:00

I have discovered that the Khmer have a great fondness for assorted dry, salted meats. Over the last several months I have grown accustomed to seeing my landlady dry a variety of meats in the sun on the roof just off our balcony. She usually puts a little something out to dry every few days. Past selections have included strips of beef, something that looked more like pork, and fish of all shapes and sizes in various states of dissection. I've even seen a few squid-looking creatures baking in the near-equatorial sun.

In spite of all of this prior exposure, I was not really prepared for what I saw drying on the roof yesterday afternoon.

Frogs. A whole mess of frogs.

Skinned and gutted. Just the grinning head attached to the hind legs via a very thin spine.

It took me a minute and a closer look to figure out what they were. After I recovered from the initial surprise and was able to pull myself together after laughing so hard, I ran for my camera. Somehow a sight like this requires pictorial proof. Just in case someone back home in the States doesn't believe me when I tell the story later........

It makes me think of the Egyptian plague of the frogs in biblical times. "And they gathered them together in heaps [on the roof], and the [balcony] stank." Exodus 8:14

It Happens To Boys Too You Know

2008-07-17T11:56:00.004+07:00

So often, when the topic of human trafficking is broached, our minds go directly to the tortured young girls who face untold abuses and sexual exploitation. While it may be true that this population may be the largest – and is certainly the most familiar – target of human trafficking, they are certainly not the only ones who suffer. Men, women, and children – both boys and girls – are vulnerable to trafficking and abuse.

One of the most overlooked groups of victims is the young boys. They may be as young as six or seven years old; they may be as old as their early twenties. They do not receive the same headlines that the girls receive, but the abuse is equally horrific. Their pain just as acute.

You see, Cambodia is not just a destination for the creeps who are hoping to have sex with young girls. There is a slightly smaller, although equally slimy, group of sex-tourists who come to Cambodia in search of sex with boys. It is not quite as easy to find a “willing” boy, since they are not usually held in brothels, but they are certainly available and the experienced “traveler” knows where to find them. If a “willing” victim cannot be found, one can be made. By careful grooming.

The little beggar boys who are picking up trash to earn a few reil. The young teen who is selling newspapers and sunglasses at the bus station. The older teen whose father is dead, whose mother has AIDS, and whose younger siblings look to him for support. They are all vulnerable and at risk. The legitimate jobs that they do have simply do not provide enough income for survival.

The Perpetrator first appears as a hero to the unsuspecting boy. He pays him a little extra for the newspaper. Takes him out to lunch and treats him like his new buddy. Buys him a new shirt. The boys are enthralled by the attention that they receive and they are willing to do anything for their new friend. They go with their new friend to his hotel to watch a movie on the TV. Maybe nothing happens the first time. Or two. The foreigner remains a faithful “friend”, but when the time is “right” he will pounce.

And the terror and pain that comes with it is just as real for boys as it is for girls.

It may even be worse. No one expects that a boy will be raped. Boys are strong. Boys are tough. They take care of themselves. They do not cry.

Their internal shame and humiliation is just as great. And yet, because no one expects that it will happen to boys, there are far fewer resources available to assist them. Boys do not seek help the same way a girl might. Far fewer people know how to respond appropriately to the unique needs of the sexually abused and exploited boy. The techniques that may be therapeutic for a girl who has survived, may actually cause more trauma for the boy.

Coupled with this lack of resources is a strong cultural aversion to men having sex with men. It is hard enough for a girl who has been raped by a man to be supported and accepted back into the community. It is just far too shameful for many boys to ever admit that they had sex with a man, and so their trauma goes unrecognized. Their pain unacknowledged. Their justice unsought.

The sexually abused and exploited boys need a voice at least as much as the girls do. Let’s not forget about them.

Weeping With Those Who Weep

2008-07-15T11:28:00.006+07:00

I have been meeting with some other expatriate girls who are also living here in Phnom Penh for a Bible study one night a week. One of our prayers together has been that the Lord would show us more of what it means to be a part of the larger Christian Family of God in Cambodia. That we would truly love our fellow Cambodian believers as brothers and sisters. That we would feel their pain as well as their joy. That we wouldn’t just think in our heads that we are One Body, but that that belief would work itself out of our heads, into our hearts, and out through our hands and feet.

A few days ago, I came to the startling realization that I was actually feeling the pain of my brothers and sisters. I was weeping not for myself, but for them. I was not so very deeply entwined in the situation, but it felt as though I was directly affected by the very thing that was grieving them.

Back in May, a van carrying over twenty of our Cambodian staff members was involved in a very serious accident in one of the rural provinces. The rear tires both blew out, causing the driver to spin out of control. The van rolled several times, two were killed, two paralyzed, many others had very serious injuries. Thorn, the driver, was jailed for a time until the exorbitant fine levied by the police could be paid.

Over the following weeks, the Lord has done many mighty things of behalf of those involved. They have been shining lights and living testaments of God’s goodness in this land of spiritual darkness. The love and forgiveness that was extended by the survivors toward Thorn astounded the doctors and others who were caring for the injured.

Of the two who were paralyzed following the accident, one eventually recovered. The other lady, Peaech, was transferred from the rural provincial hospital to a “better” hospital here in Phnom Penh. During her time here, I tried to make regular visits to the hospital to check up on her progress and make sure that she was receiving appropriate care. A former witch doctor, she continued to share Jesus with anyone who would listen, and her adult daughter became a Christian during this time. Jesus was very real and near to her, and she would often tell me of dreams or visions that God had given her to encourage her. She believed that she would one day walk again.

Peaech continued to stabilize, and while I was in the States for a few days in June, she was released from the hospital and returned to her home, a little over four hours away. I was unable to go see her, but the reports I heard from the staff were positive.

Last week, I travelled with Mlis to Kampong Thom, where Peaech lived, on business for our trafficking prevention program. I was able to speak with Thorn, and ask him about Peaech. “She is not well today”, he said. “We think that she is dying.” Well, that was a big and sudden change, but having learned from experience that I can’t always trust the translation, I didn’t expect that she actually was dying.

That afternoon, when I stepped into Peaech’s house with Thorn, I immediately saw that she was indeed dying. She had been unconscious for two days, her body riddled with infection. Even if she had been in my state-of-the-art ICU back in the States, she was too far gone to ever recover.

Knowing that I was a nurse, the family and Thorn asked if there was anything that I could do to help her. I agreed to give her some antibiotics if we could find them out there in the middle of nowhere, but did not give them much hope of recovery. We did manage to find some IV antibiotics and IV fluid, so I dosed her based on my experiences of treating dozens of septic patients in the States and prayed for the best.

For the next several hours, I sat on the floor next to her mat with her family and with Thorn. My heart was bleeding with theirs as we prayed together or quietly conversed. Thorn was especially dejected, as Peaech would now be the third person to die as a result of his van accident. The pain on his face was unbelievable. I just wanted to put my arm around him and give him a big hug; that being culturally unacceptable, I sat on the floor next to him and prayed.

Mlis and I had to catch an early bus back to Phnom Penh the next morning, but we stopped by Peaech’s house before we left. Her earlier rapid breathing had slowed considerably, but it was not the breath of the restful, it was the agonal breathing of the dying. She left this earth to be in Heaven with her Jesus just minutes after we had to leave to catch our bus.

Now, here’s where the “feeling the pain” part comes in.

I didn’t really know Peaech or her family all that well. I also was not expecting my feeble efforts to make much difference in her condition, so I wasn’t disappointed there. I didn’t even really feel frustrated by my inability to do more for her. It just isn’t possible here. That’s part of life in Cambodia. I did what I could, and I was fine with that. All of that to say, my pain was not really my own.

And yet I was weeping. As an ICU nurse I have seen death countless times before. Yet, this time I could not just brush it off. It was as though my heart was being pierced through with this agonizing grief that I could not really identify. Why all this pain for someone I barely knew? Peaech was walking in Heaven and talking with Jesus right then. I wasn’t really grieving for her. She had never been better.

And then, in my mind, I saw the crying faces of her family. And the grief-stricken face of Thorn. And I realized that I was right. This grief was not my own at all. My heart was aching with their pain, suffering with their agony and loss.

And that is when I knew that my prayers had been answered. I was feeling the pain of the other members of the Body. My Brothers and my Sisters.

“But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.” I Corinthians 12: 24-26

On Having My Feet Washed

2008-07-03T16:04:00.005+07:00

If I have learned anything about my personal Christian life while I have been in Cambodia, it is that I have too much pride. If asked to identify myself as a proud servant, I think I would have to raise my hand. I have come to serve, not to be served, and that is where Pride has reared his beastly head. It’s not the kind of pride that says, “Look at me. I’m a great person for living in Cambodia and helping all the poor people.” It is much more subtle than that, and therefore, perhaps it is more dangerous.

You see, I love to pour myself out for others; I do not like to allow them to pour themselves out for me. As I become more and more involved in the daily ministry of my job and my church here in Cambodia I am confronted with the reality that as I serve them, my brothers and sisters in my Christian family also desire to serve me. In my pride, I have found myself not wanting to allow them to serve me.

As a foreigner here, the culture in general bends over backwards to be polite and accommodating to me. In my desire to not come across as the over-bearing American who expects to be catered to, I have found it difficult to joyfully accept the gifts of service that have been extended to me. Oh, I smile, bow politely, and thank them as they serve me first at meals, allow me to walk ahead of them, give me the seat in front of the fan, but inside I am thinking: “Wow, I really wish they would stop doing this. I don’t deserve this at all. This is really uncomfortable. I don’t want them to serve me.”

Last night was a classic example. I have recently started assisting with a Bible study for some of my church family that live in the slums of Phnom Penh. As we were leaving last night, my Cambodian sister Vanna, who led the study, offered to give me a ride back to the church building on the back of her bicycle. I could have walked the short distance or hopped on one of the plethora of available motorbike taxis, but she insisted that she really wanted to give me a ride.

I truly did not want to burden her with my weight on the back of her bike, but I also didn’t want to be insufferably rude, so I hopped onto the little seat that was mounted above the rear wheel of the bike and off we went. As we rode the short distance, she kept asking, “Are you Okay? You are doing fine?” I was more concerned about how I was burdening her, as she pulled my extra weight down the busy street. (Incidentally, if the Khmer stare at a foreigner on the back of a motor-bike, they certainly stare at a foreigner on the back of a bicycle! It was like being a float in the Fourth of July Parade! During rush-hour.) Once we arrived at our destination, she gave me a big hug, and said, “Thank you so much for letting me give you a ride. You make me so happy!” I still felt rather uncomfortable about how I had burdened her.

Well, as I put my hand on the gate to let myself into the church yard, I suddenly recalled the words of Christ to Peter, as Peter was denying Christ the opportunity to serve him by washing his feet: “If I do not wash you, you have no share with me… If I then your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet.” (John 13: 8, 14) So, there I had it. I am not only called to “wash feet”, I have also been called to allow my feet to be washed with the humility of Christ.

Perhaps in the very act of allowing my brothers and sisters to serve me, I am also serving them.

A Novel Idea

2008-06-30T16:53:00.003+07:00

So, this post is going to be about India. I know I am working in Cambodia, but I try to keep tabs on what is happening elsewhere in the world of human trafficking interventions as well. Thanks to my "Google Alert" on human trafficking, I came across this innovative work that is being done in India.

Postal workers who have contact with the extremely remote villages of northeast India are being trained to educate the villagers about trafficking and to report on suspected cases of human trafficking and missing persons. I find this to be a most interesting and novel approach to the issue. These postal workers are likely the only individuals who regularly come into contact with both the remotest villages and the more developed areas where assistance can be found for trafficking victims. They are also in a unique position of trust within the communities that they serve.

Human trafficking is a large and growing problem in India, particularly in the very rural northeast where young boys and girls often go missing. Many girls from Nepal are also trafficked across the border into India for the purpose of sexual exploitation. This new program could be very effective in spreading education about trafficking prevention and in identifying and obtaining assistance for potential victims of trafficking.

Thoughts On The 2008 Trafficking in Persons Report

2008-06-27T15:40:00.006+07:00

Each year, the Trafficking Victims Protection Act (TVPA) of 2000 mandates that an annual report be presented to the U.S. Congress on the state of human trafficking world wide. Earlier this month the U.S. Department of State released their annual Trafficking in Persons Report to Congress. Just shy of three-hundred pages, this report gives an overview of the state of human trafficking in nearly every country in the world. The report is “intended to raise global awareness, to highlight efforts of the international community, and to encourage foreign governments to take effective actions to counter all forms of trafficking in persons”.

Information is gathered from a variety of sources in each country, including U.S. Embassies, various NGO’s, foreign governments, reports, research trips to every region, and other sources. Each country is ranked largely on the extent of their governments’ actions to combat trafficking, rather than on the actual size of the problem in the country.

Governments that fully comply with the minimum standards for the elimination of trafficking (as outlined in the TVPA) are placed in Tier 1. Governments who do not meet the minimum requirements are evaluated on the basis of whether or not they are making significant efforts toward becoming compliant. Those who are making significant efforts are placed in Tier 2. Those who are not making significant efforts are placed in Tier 3. There are special “watch list” criteria that may place countries on the Tier 2 Watch List, which is a level between Tier 2 and Tier 3.

This year Cambodia rose from Tier 2 Watch List, to Tier 2. This means although the “Royal Government of Cambodia does not fully comply with the minimum standards for the elimination of trafficking, … it is making significant efforts to do so. Cambodia is placed on Tier 2 for the first time since 2004 due to the government’s increased engagement in combating trafficking in persons over the previous year.”

Some of the efforts of note include passing comprehensive legislation that outlaws all forms of human trafficking, and puts in place penalties that are commensurate with other grave crimes. A national anti-trafficking taskforce was also put in place to improve responses to trafficking victims, increase law enforcement, promote prevention of trafficking, and address issues of corruption.

The Kingdom of Cambodia still has a long way to go before she is fully compliant with the minimal standards as outlined by the TVPA. It is also one thing to be compliant on paper, it is another thing altogether to be compliant in practice. That said, all finished products must start somewhere, and the Kingdom of Cambodia is taking steps, if not making great strides, in the right direction. On a Governmental level, it would appear that things are improving.

Out in the real world, it is doubtful whether these new measures have actually translated into changed behaviors and increased safety for the general population. There have been many anecdotal reports of abuses of the new anti-trafficking law, and corruption within all levels of the judicial system still reigns. It is great to have the laws in place. It gives us a foundation upon which to build, but – as with much of the rest of Cambodia – the real building has yet to begin.

In the meantime, the trade and sale of human beings in the Kingdom of Cambodia continues. And we do what we can to hold back the tide, break down the walls, warn the vulnerable, rescue the captives, heal the hurting.

“Let justice roll down like water, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” Amos 5:24

If you are interested in reading the 2008 Trafficking in Persons Report for yourself, click here. Pages 4-51 have a great deal of excellent information about human trafficking and the methods that were used to compile the report. The profile for Cambodia begins on page 82.

Home Again……. Or…Is It?

2008-06-24T15:17:00.006+07:00

So, I’ve been doing a bit of globe-trotting lately. First was most of a week in Thailand, and then came a whirlwind trip back to the States to surprise my brother at his wedding. After nearly three weeks away, it felt really great to walk back into my home in Phnom Penh, and feel like I was actually home. I have decided that home is where God places you, wherever that may be.

I know I’ve only been here for a little over three months, but I’m beginning to feel more comfortable with my life here in Cambodia. Sure it’s different here, and I can’t have or do some of the things that I really loved back in the States, but it’s where I am right now and….. I like it. Sure, it’s hot and sticky and I don’t have air conditioning, but I’ll never have to worry about digging myself out of the house following a surprise March blizzard right?

There are plenty of biting insects here offering to provide me with any number of violent illnesses, but the same is true of Indiana if you think about it. Here I worry about dengue fever or malaria. There I would be worrying about West Nile Virus or Lyme Disease. So – as they say here in Cambodia – it’s “Same, same. But Different.”

Of course, some things are very different. After all, it’s not every day in the States that a random stranger will come up to you on the street with an offer of marriage! I never dreamed that by coming to Cambodia that I would find myself spurning so many matrimonial opportunities! It’s a veritable smorgasbord of “opportunity”. I didn’t have a single proposal of marriage during the entire week that I was in the States. (Bummer!)

And, you don’t have geckos climbing the walls in Indiana. (Makes for great entertainment in the evenings) And, I have pretty much no clue what people around me here are saying as they stare and laugh. (Probably a good thing) And, I can’t get Mexican food here. Although we do have a KFC. (Highly random if you ask me. Not even a McDonalds, but a KFC? In Cambodia? Yeah, it’s strange.)

And, my family isn’t in Cambodia.

Now that you have waded through all of my musings about my new home in Cambodia, I’ll say that it was wonderful to be able to be in my Indiana home for a week. There are a few days where the memories are a little foggy (thanks to jet-lag) but it was great to be able to catch up even briefly with family and friends. I was a visitor in my own home, but I was once again – at home.

So from my home in Cambodia, I say “Hello” to my home in Indiana: Mom and Dad, Donny and Dana Leigh (The new Mrs. Ruark), Doug, Dana, Dreah, David, and Derek. Also, the Dozens of Cousins, The Aunts and The Uncles, The Grandparents, The Friends, and The Church. I love you all, and you are really what my Indiana home is all about.

On The Other Side of The World

2008-06-09T16:40:00.003+07:00

I'm on one side of the globe, most of you who read this are probably on the other side. It's day time on my side of the world. I'm sitting at my desk, at work in the World Relief office. It's night on the other side of the globe. You are cuddled up in bed, hopefully, sound asleep. I am living in a country that is straining under the weight of underdevelopment. Unless you are a stranger who stumbled across this blog by accident, it's safe to assume that you are living in one of the most developed countries in the world - America.

I work in Cambodia with the issue of human trafficking on a daily basis. Sometimes it is easy to lose sight of the rest of the world, and think that Cambodia is the only place on the globe where trafficking occurs. This however, is not true. It happens everywhere. East to West. North to South.

Asia. Southeast Asia. Cambodia. Phnom Penh.

North America. The United States. Smalltown, USA. Richmond, Indiana.

Believe it! No it's not pretty. Run away screaming if you want to, but that won't make the problem disappear of its own volition. A few weeks ago arrests were made in a prostitution and human trafficking ring that was operating in Richmond Indiana. Click here to read more about the story.

It really hit home for me. Cambodia is not alone in her fight. Human trafficking is not just the scourge of Cambodia. Even Indiana, my own Hoosier State is infected with the disease.

I might be working against trafficking in a strange country on the other side of the world, but it's on your side of the world too.

What are you going to do about it?

Public Service Announcement

2008-06-06T13:19:00.003+07:00

We interrupt the regularly scheduled theme of this blog to bring you a very important announcement.

Deanna is no longer in Cambodia. She is in Thailand. Do not worry. She will (hopefully) soon return to Phnom Penh.

I've been on a bit of a diversion from my normal routine of things this week. I travelled by bus on Wednesday with a friend who needed to come to Bangkok for medical care, but did not want to travel alone.

So, I am sitting here in a lovely hospital, drinking my Starbucks in air-conditioned comfort. (Friends at CMCC, be very jealous of the nurses at Bangkok Hospital. I certainly am!) Bangkok Hospital is certainly a study in contrasts compared to Calmette Hospital in Phnom Penh where I have been making frequent visits to check up on some World Relief staff. You really have no idea how happy it makes my nurse's heart to be in a really great hospital once again. :-) I am trying to contain my glee for the sake of my friend who just had surgery, but I'm having fun all the same.

I am also quite proud at the moment, of the fact that I have navigated myself around Bangkok - at least a little bit. Taxis, the Sky Train, the whole bit. I have found it interesting that there is actually a lot more English spoken in Phnom Penh than here in Bangkok, but I am managing (for the most part) to make myself understood. I speak a lot more Khmer (say, 10 or 12 phrases!) than I speak Thai!

Hopefully I will be heading back to Phnom Penh tomorrow. Preferably we will be making the journey by plane this time. The bus ride wasn't horrific, but it wasn't great either. The hour-long flight is vastly more appealing than the 15 hour bus ride through the mountains.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programing.

Just Another Coffee Shop........ Or Is It?

2008-05-25T17:28:00.003+07:00

Coffee shops are supposed to be great, fun places where you go to hang out with friends over a steaming cup of coffee and maybe a pastry (or two!). They should be neutral ground. Free from suspicious activities. Above reproach. A place where you can kick back, relax, and forget about the evils of the world for at least a few hours.

Well....at least, the coffee shops I knew in the States were like that.

Here in Cambodia, with the rampant prostitution that takes place, any place of business might also also be a front or a staging ground for women who choose - or are forced - to sell their bodies. Bars, karaoke joints, massage parlours and the euphemistically named "Guest Houses" (which often exist to rent "all-inclusive" rooms by-the-hour) are the more obvious culprits. Other places like hair salons, might be less obvious, but nonetheless their girls might be available to provide additional "services" to those who ask.

It seems that even the sanctity of the coffee shop has been invaded by this ruthless destroyer of families and individuals.

After eating out with some friends a few nights ago, we decided to get coffee at the shop next door. It was one of the more up-scale European-looking places, which can usually be counted on for good service and clean ice (Highly important! Drinking filtered water does you no good if you have unfiltered ice!). What I was not expecting to see were the prostitutes.

Young ladies, painted up and decked out from head-to-toe (or maybe shoulder-to-mid-thigh would be more accurate) in garments that no self-respecting Khmer woman who is not selling herself would ever be caught dead in. The seemingly innocent coffee shop was a pick-up joint!

It was yet another visual reminder of why I have come to Cambodia. There is such a stronghold of evil when it comes to the culturally accepted norms in this area. While the prostituting women and girls are culturally regarded with disdain and discrimination in its worst forms, the men are actually expected to behave in a sexually promiscuous manner. The woman is forever tainted; the man is perpetually innocent.

Culturally, the men are not believed to be able to "help themselves", they "must" have sex, no matter what the costs or consequences to themselves or others. No matter that the girls may be forced against their will. No matter that the men have wives and children at home. No matter that HIV/AIDS is continuing to extend its inescapable grasp. No matter.......

Now, lest you think that all businesses in Phnom Penh are corrupt, let me hasten to assure you that they are not. The majority are legitimate enterprises, people going about their business, doing their thing. It is the large minority that that is so overwhelming; the ease with which women and children are sold like bags of rice.

The bleeding heart of God.

I could really use a cup of coffee. I think I'll stick to the places I know from now on.

Baby Idol Worshipers

2008-05-17T14:47:00.007+07:00

Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it. Proverbs 22:6

I have been thinking about this verse a lot lately and how it proves true both for training in truth and for training in falsehood. Children trust that their parents and elders are training them in the ways of truth. In their innocence, they do not question whether what they are learning is true, they simply believe that it is because they are told that it is.

While this sweet tendency can lead to eternal Salvation when the child is learning about God and the truths of the Gospel, it can have equally eternal and detrimental effects if the child learns that salvation comes through sacrifices and bowing down to idols. In the US our idols tend to be materialistic or idealistic and it is often not possible to visualize the effect that our idol worship has on our children. Here in Cambodia however, idols are everywhere and it is all too common to observe parents or grandparents teaching their young imitators how to worship the false gods of Buddhism.

Last week I had the privilege of visiting the ancient temple ruins of Angkor Wat and several surrounding temples. Although struck by the beauty and awe that accompanies such places, I was saddened to think that all of the work and effort that went into constructing such places was spent in honor of false deities. Even today, the ruins are full of shrines to Buddha and other gods where visitors of all ages from across the globe pay homage to the lifeless images carved in the stone.

The air surrounding the shrines is thick with the smoke of incense as worshipers bow down and give their offerings in hopes of gaining eternal merit. Mothers, fathers, grandparents, and older siblings teach the youngest of the pilgrims how to bow to the idols and offer incense before the stony and unresponsive statues. Young girls and boys barely out of the toddler stage blindly practice bowing down in their uncoordinated baby way, as their elders praise them for their efforts.

How heart-wrenching it is to know that most of these tiny children will probably never hear the truth of the One True Living God! Oh! that these children would learn to call upon the Name of the Lord for Salvation! “For ‘everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.’ But how are they to call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in Him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent?” Romans 10: 13-15a

Our God desires that all would follow after Him, but He is a jealous God, and will not give over any of His glory to an idol of stone. "I am the Lord; that is my name; my glory I give to no other, nor my praise to carved idols." Isaiah 42:8

Who is going to tell these precious little ones about Jesus? Who will teach them to honor the One True Living God? The One who sees, hears, and responds to their cries for help?

Meet the Trafficking Prevention Personnel

2008-05-16T20:32:00.009+07:00

Mlis, Sannaya, and I at a recent meeting

I thought you might like to meet Mlis and Sannaya, the staff for the World Relief Trafficking Prevention Unit. We spend many hours with each other each day, learning with and from one another as we work together.

Mlis is the Staff Trainer, and is responsible for development of the educational materials we use, and then the training of the rest of the staff who then teach the materials to village volunteers. She is in her mid-twenties and is trained as a teacher. She has a lot of good ideas, and really thinks through her projects. We are so blessed to have Mlis as part of our team. She is especially good at evaluating where we need to make changes and improvements along the way.

Sannaya is Mlis' assistant/trainee, and helps out in a number of ways; she is learning a lot from Mlis. She is in her late-teens and is continuing with her education, even as she works with us at World Relief. A victim of trafficking herself, Sannaya is passionate about telling her story and helping others avoid falling into the same traps that she fell into.

Both of these ladies have a passionate love for the Lord and are very dedicated to the Trafficking Prevention Program. I feel blessed to be able to name them among my friends here in Cambodia. It is such a blessing to be able to serve alongside them in our work together.

From Every Nation...

2008-05-11T20:59:00.003+07:00

Vietnam. France. Canada. Korea. England. Japan. Australia. Holland. Brazil. Germany. Malaysia. New Zealand. America. Scotland. Cambodia. The fellowship of the Family of God extends to the far reaches of the world! Although their earthly citizenship may be widely varied, many of Heaven's citizens are living as aliens and strangers within the land of Cambodia.

I have been immensely blessed to meet just a few of those who are laboring in the specific field of human trafficking. Last week I spent two days in meetings with fellow Chab Dai members. Chab Dai is a coalition of Christian organizations that are working to combat human trafficking in Cambodia. I learned a lot during those days, and made many new friends and ministry partners. Each of our ministries is unique, but we each, in our own way, have been called by the Lord to work in Cambodia to fight back against the evils of human trafficking and exploitation.

One thing that the Lord has impressed on me during my time here, is the strength of the bond of the Spirit that unites the Family of God wherever they might be in the world. In spite of language and cultural differences that might otherwise separate us, we are drawn together by the invisible ties of Faith and Love for each other in Christ. This became even more deeply impressed upon me during these few days.

During the Chab Dai meetings we had time each morning for devotions and worship; individuals from each of the countries that I mentioned above were present and participating in the worship of our Beautiful Savior. As we worshiped together, I could not help but envision what Heaven will be like, when members of every tongue and tribe will surround the Throne of God, praising and worshiping Him together with a common language and Citizenship! Not just people from a few selected countries, but individuals from every corner of the globe!

"I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, 'Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb'!" Revelation 7:9,10

Cheated By My Moto Driver

2008-05-07T19:43:00.005+07:00

I have been wanting to post something about my work and what I am doing with the Trafficking Prevention program these days, but I think tonight is not the night. It was going to be -- until I got ripped off by my moto driver today. It's bothered me all day. I know. Get over it, right? Right.

There is a group of moto drivers and other assorted Khmer guys that hangs out by the gate at the World Relief office. It really comes in handy, because I can always catch a moto right away and since I am a regular, they let me pay them what I know to be a fair price without complaining. Oh. You should also know that while they are hanging out by the gate, they are gambling away their hard-earned money, rather than taking it home to their families, but that's another story.

Anyway. My regular drivers weren't around today, so I had to go with a new guy. I usually pay in Cambodian riels, but I didn't have the correct change, so I asked him to give me change for a dollar. (The US dollar is actually the main currency here.) He would only give me the equivalent of $0.25 back in change! That's 50% more than I usually pay, and I couldn't talk him into giving me back anything more.

I have learned that $0.50 for a ride to or from the office is more than fair, and the drivers are almost always happy for it. It's more than the locals would pay, but not as much as some drivers think a foreigner should pay. My theory is that my driver today was losing at whatever game he was playing and needed the extra change to pay off his debts.

I don't mind paying a little extra to the guys who are working hard to earn a living for their families, but it really irks me to think that the guy cheated me so that he could gamble away "my" money. So anyway. Now that that's off my chest, I'm going to go eat a cookie.

The Story of Kim Lon

2008-05-03T19:44:00.033+07:00

Her name is Kim Lon. She is in her early twenties. She is a beautiful woman. There is just one problem. She is horribly disfigured.

A little over two years ago Kim Lon was helping with the rice harvest in her village when tragedy struck. Her long, shiny black hair somehow got sucked into the rice threshing machine, pulling her in after it. Her hair was literally pulled out of her head, much of her scalp accompanying it. As she was pulled further and further in, there was literally no part of her body that was not somehow consumed by the ravenous threshing machine. Her neck, back, chest, arms, legs. They all bear the marks of massive injury. She should never have survived.

Kim Lon was taken to a local "hospital" from which she miraculously emerged some time later. (This particular hospital is known for it's poorly equipped staff and facilities.) No doubt, her impoverished family was hard pressed to pay for the services received. She was by no means well, but she was alive!

Once she returned home to her village and family, she faced a new challenge. Her house, like many Cambodian homes, is on stilts, and she could not climb the ladder-like stairs to enter the house. The solution was to set her up on a bamboo table/platform underneath the house. There she sat, under a mosquito net, for two years. Her mother did her best to attend to her needs, but she could only do so much.

Kim Lon's home

She and her already very poor family probably got less and less sympathy and help from neighbors as time went on. After all, for someone to suffer so much, they must have pretty bad karma. Nothing you can do about it, right? Live and let live. If you can call Kim Lon's condition living. It was more of a mere existence, yet through it all, Kim Lon's spirit remained indomitable. She was broken beyond recognition on the outside, but on the inside she was still very much alive.

Because of extensive leg injuries, Kim Lon was initially unable to walk, and as she sat on her bamboo table month after month without exercising her muscles, they had atrophied to the point that she still could not walk even after the wounds had finally healed. Her scalp was infected, pussy and weeping everywhere; she had never heard of skin grafting, she just had to hope that her scalp would somehow grow back on its own. This weeping mess attracted the flies, and she had to spend almost all of her time under the mosquito net. She had to sleep sitting upright; the condition of her head prevented her lying down. She was, of course, in tremendous pain, with no relief possible.

It was while Kim Lon was in this condition that a team from World Relief and College Park Church first met her and her family. For a detailed account of the November 2007 meeting, click here. I was following Josh's blog of the CPC team in Cambodia at the time, and was greatly moved by this account, never thinking that I would actually meet Kim Lon myself.

Kim Lon when we first met her in November

Following the initial meeting of Kim Lon and the WR/CPC team, Geof Bowman (my current boss) was able to facilitate getting appropriate medical treatment for her at a temporary clinic set up by American doctors several hours away. Her infections were treated, her wounds were cleansed, and she began to improve.

Geof and the other WR staff made frequent visits to Kim Lon and her family. She started to become something of a celebrity in the village because of all the outside attention she was receiving! Each visit turned into quite the event for the village, as they all turned out to gather around and see what was up.

There were set-backs along the way - she lost her right eye to infection - but Kim Lon was getting well again! Geof constantly praised and encouraged her as she continued to make improvements. She still faced one huge challenge though: she could not walk. Geof was leaving to go on home-leave to Australia in January of this year when he challenged her to try walking. He knew it would not be easy, but he encouraged Kim Lon that she could walk again if she was willing to work for it.

At first Kim Lon could only take one or two steps, while two people held her up, one on each side. Gradually her strength returned. Next, she got around with a helper on one side and a crudely fashioned crutch on the other side. I was with Geof when he returned to the village at the end of March. Kim Lon proudly demonstrated her progress, as she walked around the yard in front of her house with only the assistance of her crutch! Her joy was beautiful to behold!

Throughout this entire process, Geof and the WR team have repeatedly prayed with and for Kim Lon during their visits. There was no push of "religion", but the love of Jesus was showered all over Kim Lon and her family at each visit. During our visit in March, Geof sensed that it was finally time to share about Jesus. Plans were made to return to the village with the Jesus film.

Last Sunday, we did just that. Geof, his family, a few WR staff, and I loaded ourselves and our equipment up into two SUV's and headed out to the village. As soon as we were within hearing distance, the crowd started to gather at Kim Lon's house.

After a few hang-ups with the generator (there is no electricity in the village) we finally got things set up, and the film began. There was a large crowd gathered, with Kim Lon and her mother sitting up at the front.

Many of the children and several of the adults watched attentively through the entire movie. The children were especially engrossed, and at the Crucifixion, several cried out and covered their ears or looked away in agony as Jesus was nailed to the Cross. Kim Lon's mother cried. There was a long discussion following the film. I honestly don't know what all it included, as it was all in Khmer, but it was intense. The villagers listened closely and were asking many questions as our Cambodian brother and sister shared more about Jesus.

The croud watching the Jesus film

No one voiced a decision to follow Jesus, but a conversation has begun in the village, which will likely continue for some time. Adults and children alike will be discussing and thinking about the movie about Jesus for weeks to come. It will be interesting to see where this will lead.

I really feel that the Lord is wanting to do a big work in this village through Kim Lon. Please pray that she would want to become a Christian. She is growing into a respected member of the community, and this puts her in a great position to affect many for Jesus. Her strong and beautiful spirit would be a beautiful tool in the hands of Jesus. Please pray for Kim Lon and her village, that the truth about Jesus would affect them deeply, and that they would accept Him as the True God.

Kim Lon has beautiful feet, because Kim Lon can walk again. At our visit on Sunday she had completely worn out her sandals by repeatedly walking from one end of the village to the other; someone had tied them together for her with rags. One of Geof's daughters gave her her own flip-flops so that she could continue to walk around the village, spreading her smile and indomitable spirit wherever she goes.

Kim Lon watching the Jesus film

I pray that one day it might be said of Kim Lon's feet: How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, "Your God reigns". (Isaiah 52:7)

Imagine how many pairs of sandals Kim Lon could wear out for Jesus!

Meltdown

2008-04-26T20:49:00.008+07:00

I've been wondering how long it would take. Thirty six days. Basically five weeks. Longer than I had expected actually.

The pain. The sorrow. The suffering. The lives that have been destroyed. Looking into the pit of hell.

I have felt the heaviness of my work building up, little by little, day by day, week at a time. Even in the months before I arrived in Cambodia I felt it building up as I tried to learn as much as I could about my new job. Human Trafficking. It's real. It's painful. Real people hurt.

Friday afternoon, I came across yet another website touting the glories of Cambodia for the "single male tourist" and the final straw of evil was added to the burden; the proverbial camel collapsed. It wasn't a messy collapse (I don't really do messy), but it hit hard nevertheless. It seemed that the evil that emanated from my computer screen was suddenly larger than ever. Endless. Insurmountable. Impossible.

I sat there unmoving, and began to cry out to the Lord. How can this happen? Why do people act this way? Who cares for the broken hearts of the wounded? What is going on here? Why this struggle? Why now? I didn't seem to be getting an answer. I pulled iTunes up on my computer and started playing my favorite Praise and Worship music. Maybe I could chase off the spirit of evil with the Voice of Truth.

As the sounds of God's people praising Him filled the office, it suddenly came to me. The solution. Of course! What was I thinking?

"You are from God and have overcome them, for He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world!" I John 4:4

It's true, it is endless. Insurmountable. Impossible. Painful. But God is greater! He is endless. No one can surpass Him and His power. It would be impossible. He even heals the pain and binds up the broken hearts.

And so, I look forward to a weekend of relaxation and spiritual re-filling, knowing that I will be facing it all again on Monday morning, but with the fresh knowledge of the greatness of the glory of God.

O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. So, I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you. So I will bless you as long as I live; in your Name I will lift up my hands. Psalm 63:1-4

As I Had Feared...

2008-04-25T16:20:00.013+07:00

So, I could not contain my curiosity about the sign that I saw yesterday, and did a little investigation to find out exactly what the Cambodian Association Helping the Miserable Corpses is really all about. Surprisingly, a Google search quickly yielded results. (I love Google!)

It turns out that things actually are as bad as I had imagined. According to the the Cambodian Yellow Pages website, the Cambodian Association Helping the Miserable Corpses is indeed...... a casket and funeral services company. A little more digging yeilded an actual photo of the sign that you see posted above. It seems that I am not the only English speaker to have been struck by the intrigue of the sign!

At least that's not as bad as another casket company that, according to their Yellow Pages ad, specializes in landscaping, in addition to the caskets and funeral services. I don't even want to go there. I wonder how their Khmer name would be transliterated... Maybe Agency for the Beautification of Corpses and Their Estates. Hmmm....

Say What?

2008-04-24T19:18:00.006+07:00

Transliteration. Repeat after me, trans-lit-er-a-tion. Such an interesting word. It sounds cool when you say it (if you can say it) and, when its action is employed by a novice of the English language, it can have some hilarious consequences! I have seen some interesting examples in my travels, but this one is definitely one of the best.

I was on my way to a meeting today when I saw a sign that just about made me laugh out loud. Of course, I didn’t laugh out loud, because my Khmer friend who was driving the motorbike would probably have thought I was going nuts. (No need to confirm their suspicions!) The sign was for one of the innumerable NGO’s here in Phnom Penh. Underneath the Cambodian script on the sign, the name of the organization was transliterated into English. It read: Cambodian Association Helping the Miserable Corpses. It actually said the words “miserable corpses”! My curiosity is definitely piqued. I am now on a mission to see if I can discover what this organization actually does. All kinds of interesting pictures come to mind, none of which, I am sure, is very accurate!

Overheard in a Restaurant

2008-04-18T19:56:00.002+07:00

Warning: This post is not a lighthearted one. I am here in Cambodia working with the issue of human trafficking after all, which does not present a pleasant picture. This post may not be appropriate for young children; it is not for the faint of heart or the weak of stomach.

I was sitting in a restaurant earlier this week waiting for my lunch order to arrive when I overheard a conversation between two foreign men who were sitting behind me. It went something like this:

Guy #1 (Kinda’ creepy looking foreigner with a European accent): Yeah, this place is great. I never go anywhere else for my holidays.

Guy #2 (Another cruddy looking foreigner with an American accent): How long have you been coming here?

Guy#1: Oh, for about ten years.

Guy #2: Wow! It really must be great then! What keeps you coming back here when there are so many other places to go?

Guy #1: Well for one, the guys who run these places know me now, which is great. I don’t even have to tell them what I want most of the time, the just go pick out the ones that they know I will like.

Guy #2: Which ones do you like best?

Guy #1: I like the dark ones. I can get a white skinned girl anytime I want to back home, but I like the dark ones better. When I first started coming, they would try to slip a light one in on me once in a while, but I always sent them back. Now they give me what I want. I like knowing what to expect, you know?

Guy #2: I totally know what you mean. I really like that the girls let you be as rough as you want to and don’t really seem to mind. Some of the older ones will even be a little rough back once in a while. I don’t do the really young ones though; I think that is just disgusting.

Guy #1: Yeah, I don’t do the kids either. But, you know, some people like that. Whatever you want man! It’s all cool. [Keep in mind, by “kids” they probably meant girls who are under thirteen or fourteen. Once the girls are much older than that, they usually aren’t considered “young” for purposes of sexual exploitation. Their age however, still defines them as children until they are eighteen.]

The conversation continued, but I would rather not desecrate this blog by continuing with the rest of the polluted conversation that spewed forth from the mouths of these “men”. (You could be forgiven if you had been under the impression that these “men” were from someplace much hotter and darker that the earth upon which we live)

Needless to say, I wasn’t as hungry as I thought I would be once my meal finally arrived. I thought of a dozen things that I could have said to these men, but prudence demanded that I say nothing. In a way I felt like a coward, although I knew it would have been unwise on my part to draw attention to myself by saying anything. Do these women and children have a voice to speak for themselves? Not likely. Thankfully others from around the world are stepping up to advocate on their behalf.

I have not been ignorant that such conversations are common place here and elsewhere in the world; I had just never actually heard one with my own two ears. Cambodia is a hot-spot for the international sex tourism industry and pedophilia. In the research that I have done both before coming and since my arrival here, I have heard and read of many, far more dreadful situations of abuse than were described by the conversation above. Sometimes I begin to wonder just how dark and sinful mankind can possibly become. Is not such abuse of the innocent the pinnacle of evil?

It is beautiful to think that Christ came to proclaim liberty for the captives. What is lovelier than the thought of the power of Christ rescuing women and children (this includes boys, by the way) from the captivity of such slavery and restoring them to wholeness through Himself? It is a more sobering realization to recognize that Christ has also come to proclaim freedom and salvation for the captors.

I am forced to look deep into my heart before I can find an inkling of concern for the eternal destination of these men. After all, do they not deserve what they have coming in the flames of Hell? But wait. Did not Christ forgive me? Is the way of Christ to love my enemies? Didn’t Christ equate the sin of hatred to murder?

I pray that my heart of compassion would extend beyond advocacy and empathy for the victims, and would also be motivated to seek the Lord on behalf of the souls of the abusers. If the battle against human trafficking is to be won, we cannot simply focus on reducing the supply (victims). The demand (abuser) side of the issue must also be addressed. Only Christ has the power to overcome this evil. May all who fight the battle against slavery and trafficking go forth in the power of His Name!

“For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but we have divine power to destroy strongholds.” II Corinthians 10:4

Germ Radar Alert

2008-04-18T11:02:00.000+07:00

Those of you who know me from my life as a nurse know that I am hugely opposed to bacteria. My brain instinctively tells me that germs are not good. I do not like germs. Germs are nasty. I want to kill germs. Germs are bad. Germs make people sick and sometimes kill them. I hate germs. My ten-year-old brother calls me a germ-freak, which is probably closer to the truth than I am willing to admit to his face!

With this bit of personal background information you are now prepared to appreciate what I am about to share.

It seems that a common practice at the “hospitals” here in Cambodia is to give everyone who comes in a saline drip. All well and good. The patients are likely fairly dehydrated by the time they make it to the hospital, so a bit of saline is probably appropriate. However, what is not so necessary is sending them home with the drip still attached to them, with the IV access still in place.

It seems that it is a perfectly acceptable practice here to discharge patients in this way. Rather that waiting for the saline infusion to be complete, the patients are just sent on their way, still hooked up to the IV. I guess the patient is just supposed to figure out what to do with it once the infusion is complete.

Now, understand that in the US we sometimes people home with IV infusions of life-sustaining medications. This is preceded by extensive education of the patient and their family members about sterilely accessing the IV device, stressing the importance of cleanliness to prevent infection. We make sure the dressing on the IV access is clean and intact, the patient gets into his clean car and goes home. He has been taught how to care for his IV, and (hopefully) does so appropriately with frequent visits from a home health nurse.

By contrast, here in Cambodia, the patient is given an IV with some saline. (This, by the way, is not life-sustaining except temporarily in some emergencies.) The “doctor” decides that the patient can go home. Ok, great! The patient hops on the back of a motorbike, IV and all, and rides through the dust and filth of the city to get home. He makes it home, which is likely not all that clean by US standards. The IV infusion is complete. He does not wash his hands. He pulls out the IV and throws it away. He may or may not place a bandage over the IV insertion site.

I have seen several of these patients riding through the streets with their IV bottles swinging in the breeze as their motorbikes speed down the street. I really want to get a photo of this. When I do I’ll be sure to post it for you to see. Seeing is believing my fellow germ-hating medical friends!

It’s a wonder that more of the population has not died from massive bloodstream infections!

First Impressions

2008-04-06T16:39:00.000+07:00

They say that first impressions are lasting impressions, and I think they are probably right. Whoever "they" might happen to be. My first impression of Cambodia is that it is beautiful country. Its people are delightful and warm. Its mosquitoes are also friendly, but there are methods of negotiating with them to stay away. Its weather is hot, humid, and usually sunny; it is currently the dry season although the rainy season will be welcomed within a few weeks. Its traffic is crazy, but riding a motorbike can be fun. First impression: I like Cambodia.

I am getting settled into the the World Relief office that I share with Mlis and Sannaya. Mlis and Sannaya are the Cambodian staff of the Trafficking Prevention program that I am here to work with. We are slowly getting to know one another, although language is a bit of a barrier. One of my assignments while I am here is to help them improve their skills in the English language. We will probably start that in earnest this coming week. I am trying to remember the words and phrases of Khmer that they are teaching me, but it is slow going on my part! My brain struggles to wrap itself around the new sounds that it is being called upon to reproduce. First impression: they will learn English easily. Second impression: I will not learn Khmer as easily as they will learn English.

This past week Mlis, Sannaya, and I spent several days in Kampong Cham province at one of the World Relief satellite offices there. From there, each day, we travelled via motorbike into some of the rural villages in the surrounding area. The staff have already developed one of the first lessons in the Trafficking Prevention program, and we were observing as the World Relief workers presented the information to the villagers for the first time.

Being out in the villages without another fluent English speaker was a lesson in cultural immersion! Although she does not speak a great deal of English, Mlis was great at sensing when I was unsure of what to do or where to be, and she helped me greatly by gently nudging me into position or discretely demonstrating what I should do. First impression: Mlis will be a great teacher as I learn Khmer culture.

Lunch time in the villages was always interesting. We sat in a circle on the floor with our personal bowl of rice. In the middle were several dishes of toppings for the rice, to which everyone helped himself. One great jolt to my highly attuned "germ radar" was that everyone used their personal spoon to serve himself from the communal bowl. I did a lot of praying for grace not to "gross out" or to get sick from it, as my stomach is not used to the Cambodian germs just yet! (So far I still feel OK!) First impression: someone really should tell them about serving spoons. On second thought: my prayer life could really improve if I continue to eat like this.

First impressions go the other way too. It's not just what I think about Cambodia, it's also what her people think about me. I am quite tall compared to the average Cambodian, and my skin is unbelievably white. This created quite a stir in some of the villages that I visited. One village in particular was full of comedic encounters.

I am not sure how it happens, but the news of our coming tended to precede our arrival, and at this particular village there were several people of all ages assembled to greet us at the home of our host when we arrived. One of the onlookers was a cute little boy who looked about two or three years old. He took one look at the huge scary foreigner who looked like a ghost (yes, that would be me), and ran off screaming at the top of his lungs, to the loud amusement of the rest of the villagers. His first impression of a foreigner was, unfortunately, not a favorable one.

Before the lesson portion of our visit would begin, there were usually about 15-20 minutes of polite conversation between those gathered, as we waited for everyone to assemble. During this time at this particular village, more and more people gathered to get a look at the foreigner, until there was a crowd of probably 40 or more people. They were talking and laughing and pointing, and having a great time in general. I was doing the nod and smile routine, as I had no idea what they were saying.

All at once, they formed a straight line in front of me, and grew quiet as they looked at me expectantly. Mils leaned over and said, "They want to hear you talk. Can you say something to them?" So, I gave them the polite Khmer greeting, and Mlis translated as I said something like, "Hello. My name is Deanna. I am from America. This is my first time in Cambodia. I am very happy to be here. I cannot speak Khmer." Profound I know, but it brought great shrieks of delight!

Then the questions started. Q: "Why do you wear short sleeves when the sun is so bright?" (They often wear long sleeves to block the sun) A: Because in America it is cold, so I am very hot here in Cambodia. Q: "Why are you so white even though you do not wear long sleeves?" A: Because my mother and father are also very white. Q: "Why can't you speak Khmer?" A: Because this is the first time I have ever been to Cambodia, and I have not yet learned how to speak Khmer.

On and on it went, much to my amusement and theirs! Then the BIG question - "Are you married?" They howled with laughter when I told them I was not. "We have many fine gentlemen here." They then proceeded to have a steady stream of "eligible" young Khmer men parading past us during the remainder of our visit.

Oh Cambodia! You make me laugh. I think I'll stop and stay for a while.

Welcome to "The Blog" I never thought I would have!

2008-02-24T03:15:00.000+07:00

Welcome, dear friends, to my humble blog! I have resisted the world of blogging up to this point, citing the "well known fact" that I would never have a need for one. Allas! I find that I must eat my words, as with my upcoming venture to Cambodia, my family and friends are clamoring for a point of contact. Many thanks to all of you who have expressed your interest through prayers and support. Over the next few months I will do my best to keep you informed about my work and life in Cambodia through this blog.

I have felt the direction of the Lord in my life for many years leading me into the area of international missions. It was with this goal in mind that I pursued my nursing degree. During college, I first became aware of the issue of human trafficking, and began to learn more about it. In recent years, my interest has continued, and in November 2007 I became aware of an opportunity that would allow me to get a front-lines look at trafficking, while doing something tangible that would help to prevent it.

I will be working as an intern with World Relief in Phenom Penh, Cambodia, to assist their staff with the development of their new Human Trafficking Prevention program. I will also be providing English as a Second Language (ESL) training, and basic computer skills training to the Cambodian staff who wil be running the program once it has been established. In future posts, I hope to share more about human trafficking, and about what is being done to combat this atrocity and to bring hope and healing to its victims.

With my departure date set for March 18th, the next few weeks will fly by quickly I am sure. I would appreciate your prayers for a few key things as I continue my preparations:

Please pray for me as I wrap things up at the hopital; this coming week will be my last week at work. I was graciously granted a leave-of-absence, so I will be returning to the unit when I return to the States in the fall.

Please pray for wisdom as I begin the packing process and try to determine what things are necessary to take with me.

Please pray for strength for me from the Father on high. The closer I get to leaving, the larger my tasks in Cambodia seem to appear.

"But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of Him everywhere." II Corinthians 2:14