When the non-marginalised becomes marginalised

This was first posted at The Malaysian Insider on 20 February 2011 under the title “Marginalising the non-marginalised”.

I once had an interesting conversation with my former boss who was then the country representative of a non-governmental organisation (NGO) I was volunteering for in Phnom Penh. She lamented that too many NGOs, international aid agencies and government institutions are giving too much attention to HIV/AIDS programmes. 

So much so that those who are afflicted by less notorious diseases such as diabetes are being neglected despite the latter killing more people each year. According to UNAIDS, 1.8 million people died of AIDS in 2009 while 3.4 million people were reported to have died of diabetes in 2004 according to WHO’s statistics and this number may very well have doubled by now. 

Then I started to think about what she said and realised that on many levels, there is a lot of truth in it and it doesn’t just stop at HIV/AIDS. 

Part of my volunteering work involved working with staff from Tom Dy Centre, a shelter and rehabilitation centre for women rescued from human trafficking and sexual exploitation in Cambodia. I had visited this centre several times and was amazed by the level of comfort provided by this well-equipped and relatively modern centre but as soon as I stepped out of it, the surrounding area looked more like the rest of Cambodia; bare, under-developed, poor and dirty. 

The roads in the area were appalling and could easily succumb to flooding if there was a heavy downpour and needless to say, the wooden houses around the neighbourhood were old, small, flimsy and completely weather-beaten. It was safe to assume that they would not have been able to protect the three little piglets from the big bad wolf. This scene is just a few kilometres away from Phnom Penh city centre. 

When I asked my colleague about the community’s perception of the women at the shelter, she told me that while some are inclined to look down on them, many actually harbour some form of jealousy towards them. I was not surprised since most people living in the community are struggling to make ends meet while the women at the shelter are given free regular healthcare, vocational training and reintegration packages to help them start their own small businesses. 

It’s difficult to imagine that any of these women would want to return to their previous life as a village girl waiting on her family hand and foot. I also can’t help but wonder whether such new “improved” living conditions would help them readjust easily to their former lifestyle. 

I don’t know whether it’s Angelina Jolie who made adoption “sexy” because it is extremely popular in Cambodia. It is common to see adopted Cambodian children dressed up in OshKosh B’gosh and Gap Kids while being enrolled in international schools that seem to have mushroomed in the capital city to meet the demands of a growing expatriate community. 

Although these local children are being given a chance to have better education and standard of living, the majority of Cambodian children drop out from schools before the age of 12 in order to help their parents support their large families. Not unlike Thailand, the burden of taking care of the family falls on the daughters’ shoulders more than the boys. 

I had the opportunity to meet the executive director of a local NGO called Health Centre for Children. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that their reintegration approach for trafficked and sexually exploited children is very different from other NGOs in Cambodia. Their approach is very much about integrating the victims’ needs with the needs of their community and at the same time, cultivating a collective sense of ownership and responsibility amongst themselves. Families and communities of reintegrated children are rewarded for developing and improving their economic condition and thus preventing their children from being trafficked and sold into the sex trade. 

In a nutshell, all of them get a piece of the pie. 

The NGO will provide a loan or other forms of incentives to help develop the community as a whole. In addition, community-based activities such as campaigns and group sessions to talk about issues concerning human trafficking and sexual exploitation are held regularly. All these activities will help inculcate a common sense of responsibilities towards protecting the children. 

To me, this is obviously a more effective and sustainable approach towards preventing further exploitation of children. For a start, it tackles the root cause of the problem. The majority of women and children are being trafficked or sold as slaves because of poverty. Hence, a more effective method of preventing this form of modern-day slavery is to develop the community first and at the same time, provide the children with education. 

In a country like Cambodia where more than 90 per cent of the population live beneath the poverty line, it is not hard to think that nearly all of them are marginalized in one way or another by our standard. 

For the average Cambodian who barely makes more than US$40 a month, it doesn’t help them to think that one must be a victim of some sort of tragedy, chronic disease or crime in order to receive assistance. For the majority of them, better infrastructure, employment, education, basic health care, food and water will help improve their lives tremendously. 

By no means am I saying that those whose lives are being tragically compromised by HIV/AIDS, trafficking, forced prostitution, disability and other hardships do not deserve the amount of attention the world seems to be giving, but I think it is time for humanitarian institutions to adopt more community-based programmes so that the non-marginalised will not end up being the marginalised.

When being independent isn’t enough

This was first published in The Malaysian Insider on 31 January 2011.

When I was a child, my Father would play his favourite game with me. It was a game that I would call Lets-test-whether-my-daughter-loves-me-enough-to-forgive-me game.

He would ask me this: “Say that I’ve committed a crime. You’re the presiding Judge. Would you hand me a guilty verdict?”

“Yes.” That would be my answer, all said without a pause in between.

I didn’t even think about asking him what sort of hypothetical crime he could have committed and what would have motivated him to break the law. My logic was simple and straightforward then. (Note: grey was certainly not in my colour dictionary at that time.) I thought if a person commits a crime, he/she must be judged guilty and be sent to jail immediately.

In my juvenile mind, I didn’t consider whether there could be possible mitigating factors which could influence my judgment and subsequently lead to exonerating my Father’s crime.

My monosyllabic answer did not thrill my Father one bit. He would often argued in exasperation.

“But I’m your Father! You won’t even use your position to help me out?” “Sure? No question about it?” “But I gave you life and I feed you! How could you?”

He tried to use the my-blood-runs-through-your-veins’ card but sadly to no avail. I was that stubborn.

Despite my predictable and solid answer, he continued to play this game with me throughout most of my childhood years until one fine day he decided to stop. I never knew why but I am making a mental note to ask him when I see him next.

Sometimes I wish I had studied psychology so that I could analyse my relationship with my Father but most importantly how much of my character and personality as a child has reflected on my moral integrity and principles as an adult.

As an adult, I often find myself confronted by issues that pose as ethical and moral conundrums; should I tell my friend that her husband is cheating on her? Should I accept a gift even if I don’t deserve it? Should I euthanise my critically ill pet? Should I buy this pirated DVD even though I know it’s illegal? Should I hire a less competent person just because he/she would need the income more than the one who is really competent?

Thankfully, I’ve cultivated an appetite to ask questions and find the answers to help me judge. Granted, I don’t always make the right judgment but it forces me to first ask myself whether I would be more ready to accept stealing if I were starving and penniless before passing a guilty verdict.

There is one question which often sparks a great deal of debate amongst the NGO circle. Would you consider it ethical to accept funding from political parties or big corporations that may be violating free and fair trade agreement, environmental, health or human rights policies?

A few years back when I was living in Phnom Penh, the Cambodian Red Cross (CRC) launched a huge fund-raising event in conjunction with World Red Cross and Red Crescent Day. It managed to collect a staggering US$4 million from various local and foreign private companies and various other undisclosed sources. It was no surprise seeing that the CRC President is an influential person and hence was able to use her status to garner strong support from the business community.

It’s not a secret either that the CRC President is the wife of Hun Sen, the Prime Minister of Cambodia.

During the World Red Cross and Red Crescent Day; amidst thousands of people, including members of the press and other high profile representatives from international aid organisations, the Prime Minister handed over a mock cheque of US$4 million to the President of the CRC.

This gesture, which was regarded as a formality by many Cambodians was highly criticised by certain international community. The matrimonial connection between the President of CRC and the Prime Minister has always been a point of contention for those who understand the concept of independence within the Movement. Nevertheless, Hun Sen and his wife appeared prudent enough to keep a distance from each other in public for most of the time.

All recognised national Red Cross/Red Crescent societies must subscribe to the seven fundamental principles (humanity, universality, unity, independence, neutrality, impartiality and voluntary service) of the Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement. While playing an auxiliary role to the State, they are expected to maintain independence at all time.

In many countries, including developed ones, many governments are known to provide funds to their national Red Cross/Red Crescent societies and this is not against the Movement’s constitution. However, it’s imperative that they maintain independence by staying away from government influence when making decisions and executing their duties and responsibilities.

I think the CRC’s independence is challenged for two strong reasons; the intimate relationship between the two main personalities and the lack of faith in a corrupted government led by Hun Sen. Cambodia’s poor human rights record, weak rule of law and continuous violation of a free and fair election process have drawn multiple question marks on the Prime Minister’s credibility.

The fact that the CRC’s President “shares the same bed” with the Prime Minister has caused great discomfort to foreign stakeholders and guardians of the Movement. To be fair, the CRC’s President tries hard to exclude the participation of the Prime Minister in many CRC events just to avoid such criticism. But is that enough?

My Father’s little game would not have happened in real life. My close relation with him would have automatically disqualified me from presiding over his case. Not only must justice be done but must also seen to be done. I could be as impartial as possible but my personal relationship with my Father would always cast a doubt in the public’s eyes.

So, what’s my stand on this issue?

First of all, CRC is not a judiciary but a humanitarian institution. Its main duty is to provide humanitarian aid for those in need. When facing a dilemma such as this (particularly when it’s difficult to change or challenge a sovereign institution so entrenched in its tradition and culture), it’s always helpful to go back to the main foundation and objectives of the institution.

In this case, it’s clear that at the end of the day, the Movement’s duty lies in the interest of the people. The international community needs to weigh this delicate matter carefully before making a judgment in condemning the institution’s independence which can potentially harm its diplomatic relationship and hence jeopardise its core mandate.

I read a commentary made by Jean Pictet, former Director-General of the ICRC, on the Fundamental Principles of the Red Cross. He wrote:

“It is clear indeed that the Red Cross Society in a country under an authoritarian regime cannot serve as a centre for opposition to the regime or to any party or faith. It can thus display an attitude of benevolent neutrality towards temporal or spiritual authorities, maintain good relations with them and co-operate with them in humanitarian activities, since the National Societies are called upon to serve as auxiliaries to governmental institutions.”

“Neutrality also is the attitude observed by the ICRC in its relations with governmental entities, treating them on the basis of equality, not expressing itself on their legitimacy, not considering whether they are recognised, not judging their politics. If it acts in this way, it does so not in order to waste its energies in idle diplomatic procedures but so as to gain access to victims in need of help, and these victims are in the power of the States. It is therefore necessary to obtain the required authorisation from States and to maintain the relations of confidence essential for continuing co-operation.”

While it is a duty for the Red Cross Movement to push for an institution’s independence, it is as much a duty for them to ask themselves whether they have been neutral in exercising its judgment.

In humanitarian field, neutrality is perhaps the most important of all principles because at the end of the day, those who seek to benefit from humanitarian aid should not be judged by their religion, race, political affiliation, etc. This also means that they should not be deprived from aid simply because their government or national Red Cross/Red Crescent society has failed to satisfy the Movement’s criteria of independence. Why should they be further inflicted by the wrongs of others?

The fundamental real threat would be if funds are not being channelled to those in need but to further profit those who already have their pockets filled. This, however, is another issue altogether.

So, if Philip Morris wants to donate US$1 million to a free clinic I’m running, I’ll take it. My action won’t have any impact on them because they would continue to produce cigarettes anyway, but be sure that it’ll have a huge impact on a 40 year-old mother who needs dialysis but can’t afford it and, it will have an impact on her whole family.

Technorati Tags: Cambodian Red Cross,Hun Sen,Red Cross/Red Crescent National Society,International Committee of Red Cross,Jean Pictet,Philip Morris,Red Cross Movement. Phnom Penh,World Red Cross and Red Crescent Day

Maid in heaven

My parents just bid goodbye to their 24 year-old Indonesian maid recently. I suspect it might have been a sombre and gloomy affair at the airport since my parents adored her. They probably treated her as if she was the daughter who was never around.

I, for one, was happy to see how the relationship worked out between them and perhaps even more relieved knowing that they had someone as reliable as Yumi to look after them in my absence (See photo above. Yumi with my parents, nephew and niece).

Yumi was their first domestic help and I have a strong feeling that she has created rather large shoes for the next one to fill. In a way, I think both Yumi and my parents were lucky. The same kind of luck when your blind date turns out unexpectedly to be your loving husband for the rest of your life. You know, the kind of match that is made in heaven.

Fortunately, their relationship doesn’t have to last that long. As much as they adore Yumi, I am sure they hope she will only have to look after her own family one day. Like daughters, maids should be allowed to leave home one day.

Needless to say, not everyone sees their domestic help the same way as my parents did. Or let’s just say, not everyone or every maid is as lucky when it comes to maintaining a friendly and respectful relationship. I’ve seen some dysfunctional relationships and heard of even uglier ones.

I’ve known some friends who never really approve of the idea of having domestic help. For them, most people who hire one are either lazy or they’re simply running away from their domestic responsibilities. I can agree with that to a certain extent.

Having domestic help used to be a status symbol. Only the rich could afford it and one’s wealth could almost be measured by the number of help one had. These days, anyone from the middle working class can afford to hire a maid and it has become so common that even those who don’t really need them will have one.

It would seem as if it’s trendy to have a maid these days. They’re a bit like the iPhone; too many applications which you don’t really need but it’s still good to have it around. If only people treat their maids with as much respect as they treat their iPhones as I bet most people are more willing to lend their maids to others than their RM2k++ phone.

I was guilty of having a maid when I was living in Ethiopia and Cambodia. I was unemployed then but my husband and I would have a local maid come in every weekday to help with the domestic chores. I could have easily done the housework myself but it was so cheap to hire a maid that it made more sense to be lazy. Plus, every expat living there had a maid. Some two. So, it seemed like a normal thing to do.

We were however lucky to have Atzedu, a slim middle-aged Ethiopian woman, who had a quiet dignified demeanour in her. Atzedu had remained loyal to my husband’s organisation for many years and hence, had served many families who were posted to Ethiopia under the same organisation.

My husband was rather terrified of her in the beginning because she appeared to be a stern woman who took her job too seriously. She would often remind him to lock the balcony door before leaving for work in a firm tone. It did hurt our pride to be told off by a maid but we were eventually thankful for her genuine concern for the safety of our house and properties.

Since I was not working, Atzedu became sort of a friend cum mother. Sometimes, she would attempt to bake fresh bread for us and although they were never any good, we appreciated it nevertheless. By the end of our stay in Ethiopia, we were convinced that Atzedu had taken care of and treated our properties as if they were hers. She could have easily been Cinderella incarnate.

In Cambodia, we had a younger Cambodian maid who brought her 6 year old brat to our house every time she came to work. While I appreciated how efficient and thorough Kimny was, I disliked how spoiled little Chantini was. She loved to provoke our cat. In retaliation, our cat would jump on her and she would scream in fear. This went on almost every single time she was in the house and it became an annoying game for me and I am sure for our cat as well.

Kimny did at some stage committed a faux pas which disappointed us but once we tried to deal with the situation as best as we could, I began to learn to understand how easy it was for us to judge another person without fully understanding the other person’s condition or circumstance. I was more willing and ready to forgive once I was humbled by the knowledge that my life has been more blessed than many of those who have had to serve me and yet I would be forever indebted to them.

When we finally had to leave Cambodia, Kimny persistently asked me to bring her over to Malaysia. I would love to because my husband and I miss her every single time we think about the pile of laundry we have to do or the reeking cat litter that needs to be changed. Unfortunately, we only have room for the cat in our small apartment in Kuala Lumpur.

I no longer feel guilty having a maid around, if I can afford to. Whether it’s because of pure laziness or not, I see it as a symbiotic relationship. The maid gets paid for doing an honest job and I get to spend more time doing something I like, instead of cleaning. What’s not to like about this?

The only time when it becomes wrong to have a maid is when the relationship becomes one that is based on abuse, deception, lust and greed. But if both the employer and employee manage to maintain a relationship based on mutual respect and trust, a maid can easily become part of a family; like Yumi.

If anything, we all should learn from one another and accept that we do rely on each other to make our lives better.

This was first posted here at The Malaysian Insider.

Carrot is food. So is the stick.

It has often been said that food unites people. But if that’s really the case, shouldn’t Malaysians be the most united people in the world?

Surprisingly, we’re not and why is that?

Look around you. Kopi tiams, hawker and mamak stalls are filled to the brim every single day and night as Malaysians of all ethnicity come together to discuss politics, relationships, sports, work and life in general. Business transactions are sometimes made over a cup of teh tarik kurang manis and roti bakar.

We obviously love to do lots of things over food and drinks. We obviously have a united understanding and appreciation for food but this isn’t really unique of Malaysia, is it?

Most cultures in the world treat food the same way as we do. Food is used as offerings to Gods, as symbols of thanksgiving and blessing, as signs of abundance, as gestures of hospitality, and last but not least, as incentives.

Carrots are food after all.

In Ethiopia, one is often hand fed by family members or close friends. This is a sign of acceptance and affection. The French can easily take from three to four hours to finish one meal. They treat food with the same pleasure as they treat sex. In Cambodia, food is served to thousands of guests at a time during a wedding ceremony. This is a sign of generosity and community.

While few cultures, especially those where food had been traditionally scarce, actually teach its followers to treat food with the utmost of reverence and respect, many use it as baits to get what they want.

We like to pride ourselves as being better than animals. We think we are the most superior specie of all living things; God’s most favoured creature and hence, often fail to realise that at the end of the day, our most natural instinct is not any different from animals.

We also believe that certain animals are more intelligent than others. For instance, horses, dogs, seals, dolphins, chimps and cockatoos are trained to perform extraordinary acts. We think it’s because of discipline, patience and often time, sheer brutality that encourage them to obey, but what really motivates them to endure the depravity of being free animals? Surely, you have noticed that with each act that is being executed successfully, a form of reward is being given. Neither the cheering nor the words of encouragement, but the food that keeps the animals motivated.

Are we any different? Don’t we sometimes use food to win the hearts and minds of other people’s children? We tell them if they allow us to come closer to them, to carry them, they’ll be given a piece of chocolate, candy or cookie in return.

I heard this joke once: Why are the Belgians famous for chocolates? And the answer is: They need them to lure children.

It’s definitely not the funniest joke when you actually understand what it tries to infer. On the other hand, Belgians are not the only one doing it. Most of us have at one point being guilty of the same crime, in the literal sense of the joke.

A huge part of my job is to organise forums and workshops. When drafting budgets and programmes for events, I am usually reluctant to include food simply because I think it’s neither cost nor time effective. By including a time slot for tea break, lunch or dinner, it means we have to spend more on our budget. Since I work for a non-profit making organisation, it’s difficult for me to see money being spent on feeding participants when it can be used for other more essential needs.

In Malaysia, we all know that tea isn’t just about serving two choices of hot beverages. It often includes two or three different combinations of savoury and sweet pastries or cakes, depending on your budget.

If you’re Malaysian, you’ll probably think I’m nuts, inhospitable or just plain frugal. Perhaps I am, but what annoys me the most is when I’m often told that without allocating money and time for food, most people aren’t going to make the effort to attend the event! I suppose this is not the worst thing that could happen when there are those who not only expect food to be served, but also insist on their palatability. I have sometimes eavesdropped on passing comments that the karipap could have been fresher, the meehoon tastier and the most popular of all, the food could have been different from the “last time”.

I just can’t believe that free food is the main attraction for most people in Malaysia and that it surpasses the opportunity for free discussion and education. To be frank, if I’m given the choice to make decisions, I’ll choose not to believe that this is indeed the case and as an experiment, will forgo free food and drink in future events. If my experiment fails, then it merely proves to me that we’re just a bunch of idiots who have not progressed at all. We’re still governed by our primal instinct to “obey” only when there’s free food.

I was in Kuching for an event recently. I ended up volunteering as an usherer. I was told to inform the guests that lunch would be served after the ceremony. I instinctively wondered whether this piece of information was crucial because a) the organiser wanted to make sure that the expensive luncheon they had prepared wouldn’t go to waste, b) to express their appreciation to the guests for attending the event, c) to display their hospitality, or d) to make sure the guests wouldn’t abandon the event before the ceremony ended.

It just felt like too much work to repeat the same sentence to every single guest when a simple announcement could have been made at the end of the ceremony.

Therefore, I’ve come to believe that food does not unite. It simply motivates and the only reason it could be perceived to unite people is because of the common motivation it provides. Without food, there will be no reason for many things in life.

How do you think most Malaysians would react to the idea of eliminating food breaks from short events?

This was published on The Malaysian Insider on 22 May 2010.

Differentiating Indifferences

Zohra was 18 when she started to work as an administrative officer with the United Nations. She was bright, innocent, hopeful and idealistic. Her country, unfortunately wasn’t.

She could maintain her feeling of hope and sense of idealism because she spent nine waking hours of her life with foreigners who told her that human rights is for everyone, even if she’s a woman.

One day, she received a fully-funded scholarship to study in the United States. I remember her smiling shyly as she approached me humbly to look at her scholarship application a few months ago. I thought to myself, how proud and confident she must be, now that she had been accepted to study abroad.

On the contrary, she was forced to turn down the scholarship because her family refused to allow her to travel alone, unaccompanied by a close relative. Losing her would also mean losing a huge income for her family since she was earning more than any other average Afghan men.

No reward for chivalry

Afewark and I became friends when I took a trip to Bahir Dar in Ethiopia two years ago. We met in a rambunctious local bar playing live traditional music. He was there celebrating with his best friend who had just graduated from the local university.

Perhaps it was his age, or perhaps it was mine. Either way, he came across as a young, vibrant and idealistic man. He was well-mannered, polite and engaging, all the essential criteria which gained my trust to meet up with him again the next day.

While we were walking along a busy but dimly lit alley in between two strips of restaurants, bars and clubs, a dark figure grabbed my mobile phone from the back and disappeared into the darkness. While I remained immobile and speechless, like the rest of the unperturbed spectators watching from a close distance, Afewark made a quick dash after the culprit (no wonder Ethiopians are famed for their physical endurance in long distance running).

After about five minutes, Afewark appeared crest-fallen and ashamed for not being able to rescue my phone and most importantly for me to experience such an unfortunate incident in his country.

When we reported this to two policemen who were patrolling within the vicinity, they accused Afewark of masterminding the whole crime. He argued with them but they insisted that he plotted with the snatch thief since it was uncommon to see a local man with a foreign woman. By then, not only was he ashamed, he was also defeated.

No pride and a lot of prejudices

Walking into Tom Dy Centre in Phnom Penh, I was confronted by a lush garden and an extremely clean and neat environment. So clean that it was difficult to imagine I was in Phnom Penh. Inside, there are about 60 girls from the age of 16 to 25, faces and names I no longer remember because there are so many of them and each one looks the same as the other — long jet-black hair, dark skinned and petite.

While the environment surrounding them looked and felt clean, the girls don’t. In fact, most of them carried a vacant expression on their faces, which also explains why I find it difficult to distinguish or remember them. In conclusion, they looked as if their spirit had abandoned them.

These girls are rescued victims of trafficking and sexual exploitation. Most of them have been sold by their own families as sexual slaves. With their innocence, trust and dignity robbed away at such a young age, what’s left are their bodies. Some have even died from AIDS. I often wonder, how many of them still have hope in them as they hang on to each day of blatant uncertainty and a life-long of undeserved stigmatisation.

Pause, rewind and play

I’ve started work again in Kuala Lumpur recently. Being used to working in the fields of Timor Leste, Afghanistan, Ethiopia and Cambodia, I must confess that this is a huge shift for me. My current work pace is nonetheless hectic and demanding, more so than in all my previous jobs. I am confronted by a different kind of challenge, more bureaucratic and professionally driven in nature — one which I would have to subsequently learn to deal with.

I spent my first week relearning how to operate technologically advanced office machines, something many of us have taken for granted. When I informed the chief executive officer that my work performance is somehow hampered by my ineptness to operate such sophisticated equipment, he quipped, “You know, we have had this machine since three years ago. It’s not sophisticated. I think it’s you since you’ve worked in countries like….” Point taken.

Then, I’ve had disgruntled office members who are not pleased with my “slow” performance while I try to deal with 10 other priorities. I try to handle all of them as calmly as I can, sometimes more calmly than others would like me to be.

I’ve sat in meetings and observed discussions and debates about issues, what makes people upset and what causes such urgency. Sometimes, I do get riled up, but often I don’t.

When my friends look away uncomfortably at a beggar standing by our dining table, I look at them in the eyes and smile politely before turning them away.

If I don’t get upset when someone screams at me unjustly or when I don’t seem to be moved by the ugliness of my surrounding, does that mean I’m heartless? Does it mean I don’t care when I don’t get frustrated with what others feel as an urgency?

It may seem that way but it’s not, because at the end of the day, I’m able to sit back and think about the countries where I’ve been, where there are real people with real problems. The pressure we’re succumbing to in our daily professional environment is driven mainly by the notion of cost and benefit.

Do I use this as an excuse not to take action for every single request I’ve received? I hope not because I do go to bed soundly every night, feeling satisfied that I have done what I can and to the best of my ability. Trying to behave like a martyr when I’m not is not my style.

Today, my best friend who works in Afghanistan text-messaged me. It says: “Just to let you know I’m OK. I’m still in Sri Lanka on holidays.”

Six UN staff have been reported dead after a Taliban shoot-out and bombing in Kabul. It could have been her. It could have been me five years ago.

Whenever I feel the urge to dramatise my life unnecessarily, I pause for a moment and think about what I can achieve today, instead of worrying about what I can’t. Then, I’m being reminded by people like Zohra, Afewark and the Tom Dy girls how easy and blessed my life has been compared to theirs.

All names have been changed to protect the identity of the individuals mentioned in this article.

This article was first published in The Malaysian Insider on 31 October 2009 under the same title.

Live an extraordinary life

As a child, I was a bit of a dreamer. Unlike most girls, I didn’t dream of meeting my knight in shiny armour. Nor did I dream about my wedding day. What I dreamed of was to become an extraordinary person. You know, not just the Ah Moi from Klang or, with a bit of embellishment, the girl who becomes a millionaire by the age of 30.

No siree! I wanted to be as extraordinary as a Nobel Peace Prize Laureate or a space traveller. (Well, being a millionaire at the age of 30 is something extraordinary except earning an indecent amount of money is almost everybody’s dream!)

As an adult, it’s obvious that those dreams were wishful thinking. Instead of becoming a Nobel Peace Prize recipient, I became a humanitarian worker and although I didn’t get to travel in space, I did become a globe trotter. Perhaps as I mature and become wiser, I realise that I don’t have to be an extraordinary person to live an extraordinary life.

Five years ago, I met a guy in Kabul. He was the kind of guy many women would not have considered as potential husband material (that if you know what kind of life he led before). Basically, his background and upbringing were so disturbing that most potential in-laws would have disapproved of the union immediately.

This guy had lived such a harsh and traumatic life that under normal circumstances, one would assume that it would have rendered him a sociopath. Coming from a dysfunctional family, he finished his education early and became a drug addict. There were long periods of time when he wandered aimlessly, slept on cardboards on footpaths and sold drugs to buy drugs. This went on for a while until one day he decided that he didn’t want to live such a life anymore.

He got himself cleaned up, performed menial jobs and established meaningful relationships with others. Yet something was still missing. The jobs he was doing didn’t quite earn him the kind of life he craved for. He longed to do something much more meaningful and adventurous.

Perhaps it was fate that he managed to get a volunteering position with a humanitarian organisation. Impressed with his determination and commitment to serve, the same organisation recruited him as a full-time staff. His life began to change dramatically as his jobs took him to Croatia, Democratic Republic of Congo, Turkey, Chad, Pakistan and finally Afghanistan where I met him. Later on, we would travel together to Ethiopia and Cambodia as he continues his work with an international humanitarian organisation.

There are probably many other such examples where ordinary people decide to leave their comfort zone in search of something extraordinary but there are many more who are content with a 9-to-5 office job and a weekend of fine dining and home movies.

By now, you’re probably thinking that I’m being condescending since not many people get to do the kind of jobs that provide the opportunity for adventurous living. Well, here’s the thing. You don’t have to manoeuvre a beat-up four-wheel-drive across 215km of unpaved rocky road from Dili to Los Palos to get food and office supply, or to be stuck at the Shatu pass on top of the cold mountains of Central Highlands in Afghanistan, to live an extraordinary life. (But if you have to, it’s up to you to make it happen. These jobs didn’t just land on our feet. We searched for it.)

I’ve encountered a few people who have done pretty extraordinary things with their lives. I have a friend who was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis a few years ago but went on to become a wonderful mother. She’s now going back to work with the Justice Department in her country. She wrote to me recently that she might even travel to The Hague for her new position with the war crime division. In her email, she wrote: “It’s all very exciting but scary at the same time!” I could not be more thrilled for her as I read her email.

I know one woman who decided to break away from an abusive marriage and subsequently become a successful photographer. She’s now taking great portraits of famous personalities for Reuters. Another friend of mine decided to give up her job to become a full-time mother and now plans to impart her breastfeeding skills as a lactating counsellor. According to her, she has heard countless of discouraging testimonies by new mothers who find breastfeeding a huge challenge. Since she feels strongly about the benefit of breast milk, she wants to help nursing mothers ease into the routine of providing their babies with the best nutrition.

I have a friend who is training to become a cardiac surgeon but challenges herself physically and mentally by doing outdoor mountain climbing. Her photos taken at the peaks of Mount Kilimanjaro, Chamonix and Huayna Potosi are just astounding and no less a mighty feat. Back in secondary school, she was known as the girl with brains and we were always the last few who arrived at the finish line during our annual cross-country challenge.

Then, there are many other inspiring stories where lawyers try to do more than just conveyancing by engaging in human rights advocacy work. Writers who are doing volunteer work for children’s rights organisations or simply teaching at orphanages. Another person I am in complete awe with is a working single mother who attends book reading, writes plays and shows great interest and in-depth knowledge of socio-political issues.

Whether you’re doing something extraordinary for your personal satisfaction or to help others, it’s all about engaging something else that is out of your otherwise mundane and routine life. It’s about embracing meaningful challenges by leaving your own comfort zone.

A few weeks ago, my husband and I were dining with a couple of friends here. Very often, our work in Afghanistan, Ethiopia and Cambodia becomes a topic of conversation. The only problem is, these conversations don’t last for too long.

We’re often asked what motivates us to do humanitarian work in countries that offer nothing much except bombs, children with distended bellies and depressing stories of Pol Pot’s regime. Our usual answers are, “We like the adventure”, and this is often greeted by uncomfortable silence.

Many people expect us to tell them that we want to make a difference or to save the world. The truth is, if we’re really that altruistic, we don’t have to travel that far to help people. Suffering is everywhere and it’s just outside our doorstep if we care enough to open our eyes. So, basically, we wanted to see the world and at the same time do something meaningful.

While I no longer want to be an extraordinary person, I hope to live an extraordinary life. A wise person once said, it’s the journey that counts, not the destination and my experiences have confirmed that he is wise indeed.

For the next subsequent posts, I will try to share some of the extraordinary experiences I’ve encountered during my travels. But for now, I would like you to share yours.

This article was posted here at The Malaysian insider on 19 September 2009.

The first drop of cold water on a hot sunny day

In the past few months, I find myself receiving sad news from friends living abroad. The death of a loved one, a child inflicted with illness, frustration in relationships and the breakdown of a marriage. It has been a long time since I’ve heard someone ranting about something as mundane and inconsequential as office politics.

I am uncertain whether it’s because I’m an adult now and hence the people I know are bound to experience adult problems, or it’s simply a dark cloud lingering above us waiting to past, just like the economy.

Adulthood seemed to hit me once I got married three years ago. Gone are the days when I could just pack my bags and travel to post conflict countries like Timor Leste, got myself into life-threatening situations in Afghanistan and then still dream of doing something for the people in Darfur. The days of having only myself to account for are numbered.

During the last few years, I found myself living in the shadows of my husband. We travelled to Ethiopia and Cambodia for his work and what would normally have been a gratifying experience, ended up in self-deprecation. In case you’re wondering, the problem wasn’t my husband. It was the state of unemployment which nudged me into questioning my individual sense of purpose.

It wasn’t until I met a photographer in Ethiopia that I began to see that sense of purpose again. It has taken me a long and tumultuous journey before arriving here today.

The journey started on the day when I agreed to take a trip with my photographer friend to South Omo Valley, a region in Ethiopia where the lip-plated Mursi tribe habitates. She wanted to take some photos and needed a travel companion. Anything to do with travelling thrills me and although I was ready to go, I was unhappy with the fact that such rare and precious occasion would end up being just another fading memory.

Unwilling to settle as a tourist, I turned the images I saw and the conversation I had into child-like scribbles while sitting at the back of a Toyoto Cobra on a rocky journey to Mursiland. Once converted into typed-out letters, we submitted our stories and photos to travel magazines.

Unfortunately, our story didn’t sell but it reminded me how much I love to write. Since then, I’ve chanelled a lot of my thoughts and energy into writing. I became more focussed and happier as a person.

Although it was purely self-indulgent, it opened up my mind and heart in ways I never knew I could. I begin to pay attention to small details such as colour, smell, taste and sound; things I often took for granted.

Before, I thought the formula for my happiness includes having a family, friends and a well-paid job. If one of them was missing, it meant something was wrong and hence, I couldn’t be happy.

When we moved to Cambodia last year, I was more prepared to deal with the consequences of unemployment. I started a blog and although it’s not as successful as I’ve hoped for, I continue to write as fervently as I could. Writing became a reassuring comfort in the midst of great uncertainties.

I applied for a writing course and submitted a couple of short stories for competition but they were all met without success.

Yet, I continue to write. Some of you might wonder why don’t I just give up? It obviously proves that I’m not good at it.

The simple answer is, I was writing for myself. It was the only thing which I understand and in return, understands me.

It would seem that many of us sometimes forget the essence of our own happiness. We get caught up with family affairs, work stress, security threats, global miseries and all the sad stories surrounding us that we forget to live.

When a loved one is sick, a friend is in distress, a neighbour is wrongly persecuted or when our country is falling apart, we feel that it is selfish to indulge in what makes us happy.

On the contrary, I feel that it’s even more important for each and everyone of us to find that happiness during such bleak moments. For most parts, it helps to restore our hope for life and humanity. We all know that it’s easier to feel pessimistic and miserable about life when we’re down than when we’re up and yet we turn out backs on logical solutions such as finding joy and meaning in life.

Not too long ago, I asked my photographer friend whether she has ever felt uninspired with what she does. She admitted that she has her down days; when everything seems to go wrong and nothing she does ever feels good enough.

When I asked her whether she has any miracle cure for that, she answered, “Once a month, I take photographs of whatever I like. I set these photos aside and keep them for myself. Even if they’re really good, I don’t sell them. They are for me alone. This is how I remind myself why I love photography in the first place. I don’t do it just for money or glory but simply for myself.”

So when a friend confides in me how they are struggling with life, I often tell them to take some time and space to find something that fulfils them emotionally and spiritually. Like our bodies, these aspects of our lives need nourishment but sadly are too often being ignored. It is not being selfish, but self-feeding. We need to respond to the distress calls from our inner self rather than just hoping it would go away by itself.

Having said this, I don’t mean to advocate for people to start burying their heads in the sand. I’m advocating for people not to bury themselves in misery and learn to find some goodness and happiness in their lives.

If I had allowed myself to drown instead of looking for that buoy of life, I wouldn’t have gotten this column. Finding happiness during times of depression is like the first drop of cold water on your bare skin on a hot sunny day, the first gulp of air as you submerge from the pool and the first moment your head hit the pillow after a tiring day. It’s a gift that will help you gain the strength to brave life’s challenges.

When someone from the Malaysian Insider told me that I’ll be given a column and I can write anything I want, I thought to myself, “After four years, something good finally happens to me.”

I was wrong.

The good thing already started when I got married, when sixty job applications were turned down, when I was second-guessing my own worth and above all, when I thought I would never find my own sense of direction again.

The good thing started when I learn to embrace what makes me happy.

P/s: What would be a miracle cure for you? If you haven’t found one already, perhaps it’s time to look for one that works for you.

This piece was featured on The Malaysian Insider, 22 August 2009: http://www.themalaysianinsider.net.my/index.php/opinion/lim-ka-ea 

What to expect when you import your pet into Malaysia

When you look at a retriever pup, you automatically fantasize about how fun and cute it would be to have one as a pet. All you see are its adoring look from those sparkling and innocent-looking eyes, cute little puppy paws, wagging tail and soft fluffy coat. What you won’t think of at that moment is how much work, responsibility and financial commitment you need to engage in when owning a pet.

A pet requires more than just cuddles, praises and play time. It needs to have a comfortable, clean and safe living condition. Above all, a pet depends completely on its owner for food and water. Hence, if you’re someone who tends to travel a lot or need to leave your pet alone for long periods of time, you should really think twice about owning a pet.

As an expat, it’s even harder when you are considering having a pet. It comes a time when you have to make a decision on what to do with your pet when you leave the country. I’ve seen some expats who left their pets in the care of unwilling friends or colleagues who agreed to adopt their pets out of obligation. These pets, once used to having first class treatment, suddenly found themselves in a state of total confusion and loveless relationships with their new owners. The only person to be blamed for this is its previous owner; not the pet or the new owner. Dumping your pet on someone else is a selfish and irresponsible action.

However, if an expat decides to take their pet with them, the next challenge is to import the pet into a new country. It can be a daunting, frustrating and stressful process. I recently had such an experience and notice that there is a lack of proper information out there to assist pet owners in this process. It took us months to research the information online and dozens of phone calls to the veterinary clinics in Phnom Penh, Veterinary Services Department of Malaysia, KLIA Quarantine Department and Malaysian Airlines.

So, for this post, I would like to share some crucial information concerning the importation of pets (particularly a cat) from Cambodia to Malaysia. Once you know what to do, it actually facilitates the process and reduces a lot of the stress for you and your pet.

Documents needed to import a pet into Malaysia:

1. Import permit/license

In order to obtain this permit, you need to send your pet for relevant vaccinations. For Malaysia, their main concern is rabies. The vaccination must not be less than 30 days upon the date of importation. This means, your pet must be vaccinated for rabies at least one month (but not more than one year) before it travels to Malaysia. Make sure that your vet provides you with a vaccination book containing clear and precise information of your pet with the official vaccine sticker (name and code) and the date of vaccination. It must also be stamped and signed by the vet.

If you’re unable to apply for a permit in Malaysia, you need to send or fax a copy of the vaccination record to your family, friend or pet relocation agent who will need it for the application process.

Once this is done, you need to fill up a form (Form A) which can be obtained at the Department of Veterinary Services of Malaysia or downloaded from their website here. You don’t necessarily have to fill or sign the form personally but the person handling the application should have your contact details and the information of your pet’s date of departure, flight number and other details. (Please refer to the form for all the particulars needed.)

There are several Department of Veterinary Services in Malaysia. I know of two if the applicant lives in the region of Selangor or Kuala Lumpur.

Department of Veterinary Services

5th floor, Podium Block 1A, 4G1,Wisma Tani, Precinct 4, 62630 Putrajaya, Malaysia

Tel: +603 8870 2213 or 8870 2381/82/93/84, Email: pro@dvs.gov.my

or

Section 15, Kawasan Perindustrian Shah Alam, Selangor

Tel: +603 5510 3900

I would advice you to call the department up for directions as well as operating time. They are very helpful and efficient. The whole application process usually takes around 30 minutes if you have all the necessary documents. You also need to pay RM5 for the permit.

Once the permit is obtained, you should have two copies as the airline, upon check-in, and the quarantine officer at the arrival terminal will most likely ask for it.

2. Veterinary health certificate

You must obtain an official certificate of health for your pet from the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries of Cambodia. This must be in Bahasa Malaysia or English only. For other countries, you need to get the same from the relevant ministry dealing with veterinary services.

This certificate is only valid within seven days upon departure of your pet. This means, the certificate expires or will not be accepted if it’s dated more than seven days before your pet’s travel. It must also carry the official stamp as well as the correct information of your pet, the owner and the date of travel.

Clinic Animal Navetco (#45A, Street 178 & 318, Phnom Penh, Tel: +855 (0) 12 587 085) assists with the application of this certificate at a fee of US$50. It takes about 3 to 4 days to process. So do plan your schedule carefully.

Agrovet (#26, Street 294, Phnom Penh, Tel: +855 (0) 23 216 323) does assist as well but according to them, they can only produce an unofficial certificate (without the official stamp) and it is acceptable by the government of Malaysia. In order to prevent any problem with immigration, I would strongly advise you to obtain an official certificate.

This original certificate is crucial for you to import your pet. It has to be submitted to the quarantine staff at the KLIA arrival terminal.

Preparing your pet for travel

It is essential that you prepare your pet prior to travel in order to ensure your pet’s comfort throughout the journey. Air travelling can be a traumatic experience for your pet but there are ways to reduce this stress.

1. You must transport your pet in a suitable travel carrier/crate. Do not be fooled by products that claim certification from the International Air Transport Association (IATA). This is usually a marketing gimmick. As long as the crate is sturdy, locks securely, has openings for air and ventilation, contains sufficient space for your pet to stand up and shift its body position, it should be good enough.

2. You should allow your pet to get used to the travel crate before travelling. This might take a few weeks. My Pet Move provides a good video demo on how to train your pet to use the travel crate as well as choosing the right travel crate for your pet.

3. Most airlines strongly recommend that you attach a water bottle on the crate. Make sure that it’s the type that doesn’t spill. You can buy this easily from most pet shops or veterinary clinics. You also need to train your pet to use it if it’s not used to it.

4. Ideally, you might want to consider training your pet to wear a collar and use a leash before travelling. This is to allow you or the airline staff to secure your pet easily should it accidentally escapes from the crate. This is also necessary, particularly for restraining/handling dogs when it is finally released from the crate at the quarantine area.

Using a leash can be difficult for cats or dogs that are not used to wearing a collar. We didn’t manage to train our cat to wear a collar since it was too late and thankfully nothing happened.

5. It is advised for your pet’s nails to be clipped prior to travelling to prevent them from getting caught in the cage during transportation.

6. Never ever sedate your pet for the journey. It has been known to cause a lot of complication to animals and some even resulted in death. Some vets and pet owners have recommended that a small spray of lavender oil on the crate lining may help to calm your pet. However, if you wish to do so, I would advise that you try it out first with your pet before travelling. Different pets react differently to foreign objects or scents.

7. Stop feeding your pet 12 hours before travelling. This is to prevent it from throwing up or defecating during the journey.

8. Line the bottom part of the travel crate with newspapers and then lay your T-shirts or other items that contain your scent on top of the newspapers. This will help your pet to feel more at ease during travel. It is not advisable to put too many items in the travel crate in order to allow ample space for your pet and prevent the risk of suffocation should the crate experience sudden strong movement or get squeezed accidentally.

9. Stick your contact details on the inside of the travel crate. This should contain your name, address and telephone number.

10. Prepare some food for your pet and provide the airline staff with clear feeding instruction if the journey is long. It was not necessary in our case since it was only a 1 hour 50 minutes flight.

10. Make sure that the travel crate is shut securely throughout the whole journey (if you need reinforcement, you can tape around the crate with strong tapes but make sure that you do not block the air passages). I wouldn’t advise locking the crate under lock and key to prevent your pet from being trapped in the crate if something happens. What’s important is to make sure that the crate does not open up or disintegrates during transportation.

Booking and preparing your pet’s flight

1. Your pet will be checked in as excess baggage if it’s travelling with you. With Malaysian Airlines (MAS), it costs about US$12 per kg from Phnom Penh to Kuala Lumpur. Even if your pet qualifies within your own personal luggage allowance, it will still be considered as excess baggage. So do set aside money to pay for this.

2. When booking your flight, do inform the airline that you will be bringing along a live animal with you. This can be done through the phone (+855 (0) 23 426 688/ 218 923/24) but it’s better to pay them a visit in person at #35 – 37, Street 214, Phnom Penh, so that you can get a printed copy of your bookings stating clearly that you have a live animal with you. Always ask for the number of an airline staff dealing with pets transportation in case of any complication upon checking in.

3. On the day of departure, it’s advisable to call the quarantine officer stationed at the arrival terminal in KLIA to inform them of your pet’s arrival. The office’s number is +603 878 72370. Provide them with your pet’s flight details.

4. Prepare 7 days’ worth of food (with a printed copy of clear feeding and other important instructions) for your pet during the quarantine period at the KLIA Quarantine Station. Dry food is recommended as it stays fresh. It is also advisable to bring along your pet’s favourite toys to keep your pet occupied during the quarantine period.

5. Prepare all the documents and place them in a folder. You should have 1) 2 copies of the import permit; 1 copy for the airline upon check-in and 1 copy for the quarantine officer upon arrival*, 2) 1 original copy of the veterinary health certificate for the quarantine officer and 1 copy for the airline upon checking in and 3) the original vaccination book.

*If you have the original copy of the import permit, do remember to bring it with you! Without the import permit, your pet may not be allowed to enter the country. In some cases, your pet might be quarantined for 3 months, instead of 7 days.

What to expect on the day of your pet’s travel

1. During check-in, you need to submit a copy of the import permit and veterinary health certificate to the airline.

2. Pay for the excess baggage of your pet.

3. Request the airline to check-in your pet last so that it will arrive first at the baggage claim. Your pet is not allowed to board the airplane with you and will be kept in a designated area at the cargo section.

4. Inform the airline that the designated area must be pressurized and climate controlled. There have been reported cases of pets arriving frozen. Since cats have short nasal passages, it’s particularly important that the air is pressurized. MAS provides good care for pets and they seem to know what to do but for peace of mind, some reminding doesn’t hurt.

5. Once you have arrived, you can collect your pet at the baggage claim. With MAS, the staff actually hand-carried the pet to be handed over to us. So, you may not need to worry that your pet will be mishandled upon arrival.

6. If someone other than yourself has the original copy of the import permit, the person should hand over the permit to the quarantine officer outside the arrival gate. To do this, the person should call the quarantine officer at +603 878 72370 to arrange for the permit handover prior to your pet’s arrival.

7. The quarantine officer will receive your pet, check the documents and then issue an official receipt containing the details of quarantine. They will keep the original copies of the documents as well as the vaccination book.

Keep the receipt safely as this will be used as proof that the pet belongs to you and it has been handed over to the quarantine department. You will also need the receipt to enter the quarantine station.

8. Handover the pet food and instruction to the quarantine officer.

9. From this point onwards, your pet will no longer stay in your possession. It will be transported immediately to the quarantine station by the officer. You can visit your pet immediately at the quarantine station (closes at 4pm) near the Low Cost Carrier Terminal (LCCT). For direction, please ask the officer.

10. At the quarantine station, you’ll notice that it’s well organized. Each pet is kept in a secure, well-ventilated and rather spacious individual enclosure**. For cats, there is an additional smaller cage containing a litter box inside the enclosure. I was told that the cats are regularly released from the cage to roam freely in the enclosure. Since each cat is confined to a space alone, it can get very lonely. Hence, it’s a good idea to bring along some toys or other items to keep it company. I was told that dogs are allowed to be placed together.

** If you are importing more than one cat, they would normally place them together in the same enclosure.

11. You can visit your pet during the quarantine period during visiting hours (from 8am to 4pm).

12. After 7 days, your pet will be released once the quarantine authority determines that it is free from any transmittable diseases. You will have to make a payment of about RM3 to RM4 per day per pet (depending on the size and other cost incurred during quarantine) prior to your pet’s release.

You should expect to pay the following fees:

• Quarantine certificate – RM2
• Inspection of pet upon entry – RM30
• Transportation of pet to the quarantine station – RM30
• Rental of quarantine space – RM35/7 days
• Litter for cats – RM14/7 days (unless you bring along your own litter supply)
• Administrative fee - RM2

13. Now that you are reunited with your pet, the only thing left to do is to welcome it to its new home.

*************************************************************************************************************************

I hope that the information above will assist you in this journey. Please keep in mind that information and procedures may change from time to time. This information is valid at the point of writing. I would still recommend you to call up the relevant authorities to receive an updates on procedures and documents needed.

I am also pleased to write that all the staff we encountered during this journey have been very helpful, professional and pleasant. Never hesitate to ask them for information and address your concern.

Importing a pet is a serious matter and may cause unnecessary complications and stress (for both your pet and yourself) if not well-prepared. But it’s worth doing it since the reward is having your pet with you. However, if you’re not willing to go through such trouble, do not adopt or own a pet if you’re an expat unless you are able to make arrangements to have your pet cared for by responsible and loving people.

A weekend filled with great dining and cultural events in Phnom Penh

There’s one thing which I will regret while living in Cambodia and that would be my failure to engage more in its rich cultural activities. Recently while having dinner with a friend, I told her that I wished I had seen more traditional performances in Cambodia. I was rather ashamed that I never made the time to do this, especially when I knew how captivating the dances are. The King is a huge patron and fan of the traditional Apsara dances, having mastered it himself.

So anyway, my friend planned a fun evening of dinner at the Khmer-Thai or more famously known as KT Restaurant and later on, traditional performances at the Sovanna Phum. She wanted to make my last few days in Cambodia memorable and indeed it was.

For those who would like to experience a truly fun and enjoyable cultural experience during the weekend in Phnom Penh, I would highly recommend these two places.

KT Restaurant (#26Eo, Street 135, Sangkat Boeung Trabek, Phnom Penh)

This restaurant serves an extensive variety of authentic Thai and Khmer cuisines. On the top level, there is an elegant and yet cozy dining area where you get to dine while sitting on plush silk cushions on the floor. Don’t worry if you think it would be uncomfortable because it’s not. The room is tastefully decorated and air conditioned.

We had the green mango salad (US$3.50/plate)for starter. I would say that it’s the best mango salad I had ever tasted. It came with huge pieces of crunchy salted fish, dried shrimps, cashew nuts and dried chillies. Before eating it, you should crush the salted fish into smaller pieces and mix them together with the green shredded mangoes. The taste was refreshing and slightly sour, sweet, salty and spicy all at the same time. So basically, it leaves a tingling sensation on your palate.

As usual, like most South East Asian dining experience, we had several main dishes to go with the rice. Soup was naturally essential to complement the dry rice, which coincidentally was really fragrant, soft and fluffy. We had the Khmer sweet and sour fish soup (US$4/bowl). A bowl will feed about 3 persons.

The soup was very different from the Thai tomyum soup with less spiciness (hotness) although as equally flavourful due to the generous amount of ingredients such as lemon grass, tamarind and a mixture of local herbs. The fish was fresh and tasty.

We also had the squid in peppercorn sauce (US$4/plate), Thai sausages (US$4/plate) and fried chicken wings (US$3.50/plate). Now, the Thai sausages were the most interesting since I had neither tried nor seen them before.

In the beginning, it was rather strange to see these tiny brown balls (see above right) and I didn’t know they were sausages. They looked like meatballs but with a glazy surface. The pork meat was spiced with some sort of herbs and probably lime, lemon or tamarind juice since they were a bit sour-ish. The sausages were accompanied with raw cabbage, peanuts, chopped up fresh chillies (the small kind and hence very hot. So watch out!), ginger and garlic. I didn’t know how to eat the sausage with these condiments and so I just ate it as it was. It was interesting but I thought the skin was a bit too thick and oily.

The squid was tasty and as usual, peppery and sweet. I noticed that the restaurants here often cooked with real peppercorns which gave it a really strong flavour. What was interesting about the chicken wings was the deep fried pieces of garlic laced with salt. I could eat them as snacks but of course, there won’t be any kissing after!

Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to have dessert since we had to catch the performances at 7:30pm.

The Sovanna Phum (#111, Street 360, Phnom Penh)

The Sovanna Phum performances are only available on Friday and Saturday evening, from 7:30pm to 8:30pm. However, the company offers a variety of fun classes such as classical music, Apsara dance and shadow puppet making, especially for children (well, adults will definitely enjoy it too) at other times during the weekdays. Each class usually charges a fee of US$5 per person, depending on the size of the class and complexity of the puppet design. The performances vary every night and charges an entrance fee of US$5 for adult and US$3 for children under the age of 12.

For information on classes and performance programme, you can call +855 (0) 23 221 932 or click on their website at http://www.shadow-puppets.org.

 

We managed to catch the Hanuman and Giant Drum performance and it was amazing. The musicians played several numbers of drum beats using different kinds of drums, including the giant drum and other percussions. I couldn’t help but move along with the uplifting and harmonious beats of the drums. The dancers were agile and graceful. I could see that such style takes a lot of discipline and training to perfect.

I liked how they incorporated short comedic scenes during the show which sent the audience in stitches. I could see why they are extremely popular with children. Unfortunately, there was only one scene with the Hanumans or monkeys, which disappointed the children, including myself.

The place is rather small with a room to exhibit shadow puppets and a small stage with several rows of wooden benches under a thatched roof. However, I really appreciated the size since you get a good view of the performances and at the same time have some sort of interaction with the performers. Do get there early because it was packed when I was there.

After the performances finished, the audience was asked to go onstage to try out the drums. Ironically, while all the performers had been men, it was the women who were really eager to try out the drums. It was definitely a rambunctious and disorderly affair!  Thankfully, the musicians provided some pointers to those who tried their hands on them, much to my ears’ relief!

I managed to take photos during the performances and it was probably the toughest time I ever had, without the help of a tripod and flash. Do make sure that you turn off your flash in order not to distract the performers.

The photos below were the best I could do and I do apologize as they didn’t really do much justice to the whole show.

 

Happy Herb Pizza at the Riverfront, Phnom Penh

Before I left for Phnom Penh, friends who have been there told us that we should eat at this local pizzeria in Phnom Penh. The Lonely Planet speaks of the same establishment and rumours have it that this restaurant situated at #345, Sisowath Quay serves a special kind of pizza. It’s called the Happy Herb Pizza. So, go figure why the pizzas are so special.

Anyway, I decided to find out today whether the pizza was indeed special or just a myth. I also figured that I had to go there at least once before I leave the country.

I expected the restaurant to be packed especially at this time when it’s filled with tourists but it wasn’t. In fact, the other restaurants serving “happy pizza” were empty too. (There are about three restaurants serving similar kind of pizzas in one stretch. No doubt that the pizzas were very popular before.)

When I skimmed through the menu, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect or how to order. The items shown were what you would normally expect in any pizzerias; margarita, pepperoni, Hawaiian, Napolitano, etc. They all come in three different sizes; small, medium and large at US$4.50, 7.50 and 11.00 each. I asked for a small Happy Herb Special Pizza as it sounded “special”.

The waiter did not ask me whether I would like my pizza, “normal, happy or extra happy.” According to some online forums, this was supposed to be the standard question.

Anyway, when the pizza arrived, I could see some sort of herbs sprinkled sparingly on top.  It could have been oregano for all I knew. There was no scent of the happy herb. Neither was there any taste of the happy herb when I tucked in. The pizza tasted mediocre and in other words, nothing special about it and in fact, a bit too expensive for what I got.

The whole experience might seem disappointing but after I finished the pizza and hopped on a tuk-tuk, I did feel err….happy. However, I wasn’t sure whether my happiness was attributed to the pizza or the fact that the tuk-tuk driver was really nice and friendly or the weather was just perfect. I wasn’t convinced that the herb did anything and if it did, was it merely a placebo effect?

Whatever it was, the tuk-tuk ride was definitely a happy one especially when it came with loud Khmer music for every road users’ pleasure along the way.  After haggling with the driver, he finally agreed to US$2 instead of his asking price of US$3.

When I told him, “You go slow-slow, ok? I take photos.” He jokingly answered, “Then you pay US$3, ok?” I shrugged him off. When I looked up from inside the tuk-tuk, I saw all these photos taken with tourists and the sentence, LONG LIVE FRIENDSHIP and instantly felt sentimental. It was definitely the nicest tuk-tuk I’ve ever been on.

 

 

We passed the Royal Museum, the Royal Palace, the Vietnamese-Cambodian War Monument and the Independence Monument at snail speed. When I finally arrived in front of my apartment, I gave him US$3 and he accepted it with a huge happy grin.

So whether the pizza had done its work or not, it was indeed a happy day.

Malis restaurant in Phnom Penh

What the local reviews claimed as one of the best Khmer restaurants in Phnom Penh, Malis certainly has a large shoe to fill. After ten months of hearing its name mentioned in many magazines and tourism guide books, I decided to try it out today.

Situated at #136, Norodom Boulevard (Tel: 023 221 022), Malis didn’t disappoint my expectation at first glance. It was described by many as a modern and high end restaurant with a lush setting and I was indeed impressed by its tasteful decor and architectural design. I wouldn’t call it modern per se as the interior designer has managed to combine traditional furniture and ornaments with a relatively modern structure.

Upon entering, there was a beautiful statue of the Buddha, beaconing peacefully from the front of a traveller’s tree. The courtyard was indeed lush and provided an atmosphere of tranquillity and calm. Since the weather is mildly cold now, it was pleasant to sit on the terrace surrounded by frangipani tree and two shallow pools filled with lotus flowers and fishes. The water that dripped gently from the frangipani leaves, a result from a heavy downpour which had just ended not too long ago, sent tiny ripples across the surface of the pools.

   

As soon as we settled down on a table, the waitress quickly presented us the menu accompanied by small portions of aperitif consisted of fresh passion fruit juice served in shot glasses and plates of pickled cauliflowers and carrots with a knob of spicy paste. I particularly liked the juice which was sweet and sour at the same time and had a concentrated consistency, a good indicator that it was extracted purely from the fruit.

Everything seemed to go well until we tried to order some cocktails. When my friend asked whether they offered happy hours, a common practice in most restaurants here, the waiter thought it was the name for a cocktail. After checking with the manager, he disappointed us by saying no.

When we looked at the drinks menu, there wasn’t much choice in terms of cocktails. I tried to push my luck by asking him whether they served mojitos. He replied quizzically, “Mosquitoes?” in which we inevitably responded with roars of laughter. Our shameless display of rudeness did not offend nor amuse him. He simply told us that he would check with the bartender.

After a few minutes, he returned with a huge smile on his face as he declared proudly, “Yes, Madam. We have mosquitoes.” Perhaps it was his good and earnest nature which made it hard for us to feel annoyed with what many would simply dismiss as a shortcoming.

I would say that Malis’ strengths definitely lie in the quality of its food and how they are being served. Everything was beautifully arranged and garnished. I particularly like the serving plates or rather materials.

We had the peppered scallops and skewered meat for starters. Expecting them to come in delicate portions, we were alarmed by the generous size and thought perhaps we might had been a bit too enthusiastic when ordering. According to my friend, she remembers the portions used to be much smaller.

Each scallop was small but there were probably about four pieces on each shell. They were mixed in a sauce consisted of chopped up bell peppers, onions, button mushrooms and real peppers still attached to their stalks. The sauce was really tasty; slightly sweetened with strong peppery taste. The skewered meat came with chunky pieces of pork, beef and chicken garnished with pickled green papayas. They were mildly marinated with spices and barbequed to perfection. This dish can be eaten as a main.

We ordered fish amok, fried rice with scallops wrapped in lotus leaves, sour chicken soup and deep fried soft shell craps for our main courses. Being more familiar with the fish amok in thick coconut gravy, I was pleasantly surprised by this drier version which apparently is also the authentic version.

Instead of being boiled in gravy, they were steamed on banana leaves with noni tree leaves at the bottom. Normally, the creamy version is very heavy and rich but this one was light and probably healthier. I liked how they were individually served on small plates made from coconut trees. All we needed to do was pick the plates up and eat them straight away. No mess and no stress.

As soon as the waitress unwrapped the fried rice, the delightful but subtle aroma of lotus leaves enveloped the air. The rice was unfortunately not as delightful as the unveiling experience. I thought it was a bit too watery and since we had ordered so many dishes, it was wise not to stuff up our stomach with rice. Thankfully, the soup was rather small in portion but over-compensated by a creamy texture. In fact, I don’t think they should call it a soup. Chicken gravy would have been more justifiable since there was more chicken than soup. The soft-shell crabs were not as fresh as I had hoped them to be despite being creatively served like a small hanging lantern. It came with an olive-green dipping sauce made from blended peppers, salt and lime juice.I thought it tasted too tangy and sharp.

 

For dessert, my friend chose the rainbow layered bean and coconut custard while I had the sticky rice with sesame paste on a pool of sago and coconut cream.The custard was very smooth and not too sweet. The beans were blended so well that you couldn’t feel the graininess and instead, the tastes of red and mung beans simply melt away on the tongue.

The sticky rice was a good representative of South East Asian dessert where sugar and salt are commonly combined together to create that interesting stimulation to the taste buds. The ultimate prize was the smooth paste made purely from black sesame seeds. I had secretly wished then that the portion could have been bigger.

Now, saving the best for last. As mentioned on my previous post, as a coffee lover, I think the ultimate litmus test to a good cup of coffee is the beans and how they are being brewed. At Malis, they serve it with a creative twist. Instead of a teaspoon, a cinnamon stick coated with caramelized sugar at the bottom tip is being used. While I slowly stirred the coffee served in a cup resembling some sort of an alabaster material, the scent of cinnamon and sugar were infused into the drink simultaneously. In all my dining experience, this by far has excited me the most.

As soon as you think it can’t get any better, Malis managed to revive what I would say, a forgotten art in gastronomy by many high end restaurants these days. A special thanks to my generous friend as I was privileged to have such an experience without having to contribute anything. 

Last word though, I wouldn’t mind having more mosquitoes if the hours had been happier!

 

Prices: For starters and main courses, it ranges from US$7 to US$8 onwards and dessert is all priced at US$3 each.