Case Study Writing

Part of being a not-for-profit NGO is just that: it is not for profit. Trailblazer's funding relies on donations, and soliciting donations is not an easy feat. Roughly just over half of donations come from individuals, meaning that the personal case studies from Trailblazer's projects are very important. They need to make that person reading them at, say, 1am be compelled to send a check or click on the paypal icon. Last Friday, I went to Chea Smun village (per usual, not how this village is spelled in Khmer (obviously) but how I understand and pronounce the name) to interview two students who had received donated bikes from Trailblazer. 

Srei Mau and her bike

Chea Smun, about an hour by moto away from Siem Reap, was one of the most remote and undeveloped (in terms of infrastructure) village I have been to while in Cambodia thus far. The dirt-clay road was a brilliant sinopia-tawny color, accentuated even more by the puddles left from the immense amount of rain the night before and that morning. We arrived at the secondary school: two lines of classrooms with a portico attaching all of them and a tattered Cambodian flag in the center. 

One of the hardest parts of doing the case study was making sure that the questions my Cambodian partner, Lon Sey (works with Trailblazer), asked were indeed the questions I had prepared. A lot can get lost in translation! Getting more sentimental / opinion answers to the questions (versus one-word answers) I was asking was a tough feat as well from the the boy and girl I interviewed. They were so shy! Then again I would probably be shy too if this massively tall foreign woman wearing strange clothes came to my school asking questions about my bicycle. As for the case study itself, this is what I have written: 

FINALLY got a smile :)

Every day many children in Cambodia have to walk long distances to get to school, meaning they arrive physically tired and mentally drained before class even starts. This situation is exacerbated in Siem Reap province, one of the poorest in Cambodia, and specifically in Meanchey Commune where children often walk to school. The reality is that walking long distances limits students’ capability to succeed and disincentivizes them from attending school. To address this problem, the Trailblazer Foundation has provided bikes to multiple students in Siem Reap Province, allowing for the students and their families to have more mobility and save valuable time. 

As part of Trailblazer Foundation’s Cambodia Assistance Program, Trailblazer provided bikes to students at Chea Smun Secondary School in Chea Smun Village, located in Meanchey Commune of Prasat Bakong District. Besides this, Trailblazer has also installed four biosand water filters at Chea Smun Secondary School to help the students maintain good health. More than half of the students at Chea Smun Secondary School have bikes, making it important to help those who do not integrate at school. The donated bikes in general are easy to use and bike maintenance has so far only included simply repairing flat tires. 

Seyha, a 17 year old student in his eighth year of school, received a bike from Trailblazer four months ago. He said that already his studies and day-to-day life have greatly improved with the time gained from biking as opposed to walking to school. It used to take him thirty minutes to walk to school, and now it takes him five to ten minutes with his new bike. His father finished his studies through grade eight and his mother did not even go to school, so Seyha is excited to attend high school next year and complete his studies as he aspires to become a mathematics and chemistry teacher. Seeing as Chea Smun Secondary School currently only has six teachers for 176 students, Seyha finishing school and becoming a teacher would greatly help the Cambodian education system at large. Because Seyha’s high school next year is 10 kilometers away, his bike is going to substantially reduce the time it takes to get to and from school. On the weekends, his parents also borrow the bike to go to and from the market to buy food for Seyha and his two younger brothers at a much faster pace than before. 

Another one of Srei Mau's neighbors

One of Seyha’s neighbors, Srei Mau, also received a new bike from Trailblazer. Srei Mau is 15 years old and in grade eight as well, and her favorite subjects are chemistry and biology. Similar to Seyha, Srei Mau wishes to become teacher but for biology, yet admits that she has a lot more to learn. Srei Mau loves that her new bike allows her to stay after school for longer to continue studying rather than have to dedicate time to walking home. She will also attend the same high school as Seyha next year, likewise surpassing the education level of both of her parents. Her parents use the bike on Sunday to go work on the farm, while she uses it also to go to the market for her 3-person family.  

Seyha and Srei Mau thank Trailblazer profusely, smiling widely, for giving them the bicycles because the donation has helped them concentrate on their studies with more passion. Bikes save students’ valuable time so that they can study and learn more while following their dreams. Both students also ask if Trailblazer can donate more bicycles or school supplies in general to other poor students, Srei Mau relating poignantly, “please try to help us some more...because we need it.” For only $45, you can supply a bike to help a Cambodian student pursue his/her educational goals, thereby improving wellbeing and quality of life. More educated Cambodian youth means more power for development and social change, and a brighter future for Cambodia.

Me and the cutest savior ever! 

We went to both Seyha and Srei Mau's houses to get photos with their families (that I had to really try to coax smiles out of) and bikes. In both cases, the father was not at home. Seyha actually did not have his bike at school in reality because his mom used it that day. Unfortunately, this is not uncommon in these cases albeit slightly awkward (I mean, we were doing an interview about how he bikes to school). Nevertheless, his bike was at home which was great because using the same bike in their individual photos at school was honestly super obvious. 

For the photos at Srei Mau's house, I hid the TV that Srei Mau had in her house toward the front entrance within visibility of the camera. Contrary to popular belief, you can be in dire poverty and still have a television--but most people do not want to see or know this. "If they can afford a television, why do I need to donate a bike? Shouldn't the latter be the top priority?" Well, it can actually be easier to access a 3G network in the jungle than it is a proper waste system in a town, for example. What's more: who are you to tell a family how to spend its money? Just because a family cannot readily afford a bike, does not mean it should be deprived of any simple entertainment. Must a family live extremely basically / in borderline squaller if it cannot afford rudimentary items, but can afford a small toy for a child for the time being? I also made sure not to  photograph the solar panel that a Japanese NGO installed on Seyha's roof the day beforehand. The family also had a water filter from yet another NGO, furthering my burgeoning opinion that NGOs in Cambodia are, in a sense, enabling the government to continue their corrupt practices by doing a ministry's job. That being said, would the government actually step up to the plate? Moreover: we cannot wait ten years for water, transport, education, etc. etc. etc. 

What was most shocking about where Seyha and Srei Mau live is that the flooding is so bad in the rainy season that they must take a boat to cross the murky river that separated their neighborhood from the main village roadway (bike is not going to help in that situation!). Right now, a very slippery and narrow bridge connects the land masses--a bridge that a little girl held my hand walking across. Houses are right up against the river, and I can only imagine the living conditions inside of them during the wet season, and what this does to water supply as well as sanitation practices. Sadly on the way to Lon Sey's motorbike, the little girl was not there to hold my hand. But I sucked it up, realizing how silly I probably looked towering over this girl yet nearly shaking with my fear of heights. 

Filter Installation~~

A shop at Lolei Village

All of the time I have spent sifting sand, sifting gravel, washing sand, and washing gravel has paid off! On Friday, I went to Lolei Village outside of Siem Reap to install eight water filters which--let me tell you, reader--was an incredibly long and arduous day.

I rode out to the village on the back of a pick up truck, and borrowed Bone-knee's (not how you spell his name, but how I pronounce it) über Cambodian hat that was camouflage colored with a lovely flap that covered my neck and then wrapped across my face to snap onto the other side. Literally my entire head, neck, and face except for my eyes (which had sunglasses) were covered. This was great, as this hat was going to do more than any sunscreen I owned would. As well, the dust flying everywhere would not stick to my sunscreen and sweat, but only my sweat. Much better!

A family next to their filter

The village had no electricity, only one generator in one of the nicer houses. There was one dirt road that went through the village, houses lining either side, and a few small shops. Behind the houses were either more houses or gardens / farms / open land. Most of the villagers were at home to receive the filters, and from what I observed at least, about half of the children went to school.

We installed eight filters, which took a total of about six and a half hours including lunch, installation time, and driving time. The filter mold comes from a Canadian organization called CAWST (The Centre for Affordable Water and Sanitation Technology) that creates a lot of filter molds, I am told, for NGOs all over developing countries. The filters are immensely heavy, as they are made out of concrete, and so are the bags of sand (I really never realized how heavy sand could be). The filters are relatively easy to install seeing as they are just plopped on the ground wherever the family wants them (and this means they can be near a toilet or sewage source, but because the filter does not draw on this water (necessarily :/ ) this is fine). On Friday, we installed the filters either next to their well or next to their kitchen area.

Putting well water into a filter 

Basically, we wheeled the filter on a dolly to where the family wanted it installed. The family pays 13,000Riel, or $3.25, for the filter that then goes to the village fund. The price in 2012 was $2.60, but due to inflation, I am told, the price increased. This place has to be level in order to function properly, and in a few cases we had to add sand or a pebble or two underneath the filter in order to ensure this. We then put some water into the filter, pour the large gravel into the bottom, and level it. I leveled the gravel as I can reach the bottom of the filter with my rather long arms and still not get my sleeve wet. Then, we pour in the small pebbles, level these again, and then the sand which two people need to pick up to dump in due to its immense weight. We level the sand carefully without packing it in, and also then clean the filter using water and a cap-full of bleach. Finally, we pour more water into the filter and place the blue perforated filter contraption on top of this sand and water (it fits nicely into the concrete filter). You pour water on top of the blue filter and then, after about two weeks of being installed, clean water comes out of the drinking end.

Diagram of a filter

The two week waiting period is for the biofilm to develop and mature in the sand. The biofilm is created in the sand to trap bacteria in the water (it will consume bacteria such as E.Coli), and is developed organically and biologically specific to that water source. A biofilm for pond water would be different from a biofilm for well water, for example. The biofilm traps about 40% of the bacteria, while 60% or so of the other objects / not-so-great minerals in water (if there is a lot of iron, for example) is physically trapped with the blue filter or does not make it through the sand at all. For example, pond water had a lot of silt that is physically blocked with the sand and/or blue filter. Biosand filters trap about mid 80s to high 90s % of the bacteria and objects found in water, with percentages varying due to maintenance and quality of the original water source. When the biofilm develops after about two weeks, clean water is good to go. The gravel serves as another physical filter to maintain the integrity of the sand part of the filter, preventing it from going through the outlet tube.

A page from a booklet

The cleaner the water is going into the filter, the cleaner the water is coming out. Therefore, if you use water from a stream that feces run into, the water that comes out of the filter will not be as clean as water coming from a well 30 meters or so from a toilet. With each filter Trailblazer installs, they also hand out and explain a blue booklet in Khmer with pictures to show how to maintain the filter, how to use the filter, and how to drink/use water responsibly and sustainably in general. The pictures show fenced in livestock so they do not poo in streams, and also enclosed toilet areas, for example.

Drunk driving and helmet notice

Rice (duh), sauce, fish, and omlet

We stopped for lunch at one of the houses that actually belongs to one of Trailblazer's staff. His wife cooked a great meal of rice (of course), a sauce for the rice that consisted of chili and some sort of cilantro-esque herb, grilled fish, and a great omlet. While eating the omlet, Sotirot (again, not how you spell his name but how I pronounce it) asked me what the eggs of the fish were called. "Fish eggs," I said, "or from certain fish, it is called caviar and this is very expensive." "Ohhhhhh" he said, very excited. "There is caviar in this omlet!"

I am vegetarian, and trying to not eat fish in the middle of nowhere. So much for that one. But it did explain why the food tasted so good!

Also on the Lolei trip, I held three more naked babies that I loved but God was I worried about them peeing on me. We also went by a makeshift school with English and Khmer letter charts, as well as an English parts-of-the-body chart. There was also a fruit poster in English, and randomly in Chinese, with fruits I don't even think they readily have in Cambodia, like blueberries. The man at this house said he learned English with monks at the pagoda, and hopes to teach English to Khmer students for free. I also witnessed the only anti-drunk driving poster I have seen in Cambodia, and I am told that drunk driving is actually a serious problem.

At about 3:15, I climbed back onto the back of the truck, put Bone-knee's fashionable hat back on, and went home. 

A Plethora of Goods

First, sincere apologies for the lack of photos in this post. Also, please comment with questions or other opinions (as I say at the end of this post).

Markets in Southeast Asia range from live fish flopping about after being severed alive (I really do wonder what Peter Singer would say to that sight), to piles of fruit I don't know the names of in English, to women screaming "buy something?!" about their kitsch and ubiquitous elephant emblazoned handbags (most of which I have been told are from Thailand or Vietnam), to circuitous halls and halls of batik sarong cloths, to where I went yesterday: a NGO sponsored market with all locally made handicrafts and goods. I went from stall to stall learning about the different NGOs while also looking at the handicrafts being sold (often scarfs not meant to be worn in tropical heat, post cards, pendants, bracelets, etc.). And I saw serious problems with much of this.

Some NGOs, it seems, have basically taken over different villages with no route of action in mind to leave. They help the children (always the children, or children and women, not the (male) adults who are also in need of help) buy school supplies to go to school rather than beg on the streets, and also provide art (the photographs are made into postcards) and English lessons. Pictures of kids brushing their teeth and looking doe-eyed into the camera dot the brochure. To compensate for the parents' loss of income, the organizations will often provide rice or other forms of non-monetary help to the families. The NGO begins to thus dictate their livelihoods. Although helping children is 110% important, so is helping the adults who force their children to do beg on the streets. What about helping parents find work? If there are no jobs (and this often seems to be the case, unfortunately), what is the underlying problem, here? There is more to the story than just the children.

Most NGOs also help women, and female-made products becomes a sort of branded attribute. It is a selling point of the commodity--one might even say a "trend." The women from one village bead bracelets and pendants for a tourist market in order to provide for their families.  The Australian head told me all but three of the men walked out when I asked her what the men do while women bead. This is excellent, the women are able to help their families now when before they were not able to.

But it is also problematic: beading these bracelets still marginalizes women to do handiwork as well as relies on a tourist market to buy the goods. Without this Australian woman, and without a tourist market, the women would still be impoverished. NGO work today is reminiscent of my studying the French Indochina Empire but in a lighter and more charitable way. The white power is still coming into the impoverished country to "help" to poor people who cannot help themselves, while also benefiting themselves (goods are still being produced for a western market). Yes, this is a stretch but a reasonable connection.

You could argue: what would these women do without this NGO if there are no jobs? And this is a very valid point--the NGO has provided these women with a skill they can market to the flood of tourists in their country at the moment. By having their own business, this empowers them. But I also ask, more cynically: what would the NGO and its often white founders do without these impoverished women? Rather than have the women bead, it might be more productive to get to the root of unemployment rather than place a daintily embroidered scarf over the problem.

Many NGOs have a program where you can tour local villages and really get to know "authentic" and "traditional" Cambodian life. Yes, tourists often strive for this authenticity and yearn for simpler times--but a tuk tuk driver's life is just as "Cambodian" as a rice farmer's. Touring villages helps people who might not otherwise know what life is like sans electricity or plumbing see this, but again, the villagers then rely on the tourists for their income. Tourism is a lucrative industry, but tourism as the primary industry creates problems.  The villagers have to do this day in and day out, making their village more like a museum rather than a place to live. As tourists bike through, they don't want to really see the real, nitty gritty and not pretty life. And eating lunch with a local family? They often want to try the local food, but not too local. And I am not referring to the people who really do want to dry duck egg (no, not a duck's egg, but a duck's egg with a was-about-to-be-hatched-and-then-you-ate-me duck inside the egg), I mean the people who would be disappointed eating only a small helping of rice for lunch. That's local, for you. Of course, there are exceptions to this.

What's more, the people who are buying these goods think that they are greatly helping the situation. They are certainly putting their money to a good cause, but this "passive activism" worries me. Buying ten scarves made by women in the rural village will not change the country. Eating at a restaurant where all of the profits go to some school children will not change the political situation in the country that makes things how they are today. It can begin to help, but buying your way to change is not the answer. Although many tourists and people in general simply do not care enough to make lasting change--they are going home soon. Those who stay do try to make a change, but (as this post describes), I fear it is not the best pathway. And no, I do not have a different, viable, and practical method in mind.

This is not meant to denounce any of the NGOs in Siem Reap and Cambodia at large, it is just that I find multiple flaws and many of them and hope that you, dear reader, might have a different opinions to enlighten me with. I am very very open to other thoughts as I would love to prove the cynic in me wrong. Maybe....is this NGO society the first step to changing Cambodia on the whole? 

"You must be the tallest woman in the universe"

Well, contrary to the popular belief held among many villagers, I am not the tallest woman in the universe. In fact, the tallest woman ever was reported to have been eight foot four inches, while I am a mere six foot 1 inch. But, this is what everyone (so I am told, I have not learned the Khmer sentence "you are the tallest woman in the world" but am on lesson three with my tutor!) has been saying about me, wherever I go.

Ratanak showing how to use the stove

Although this week at Trailblazer I have mostly been working on filtering sand for the water filters or picking salad / weeding (and dealing with my uncooperative stomach -_____-), on Tuesday I (along with others) delivered 82 new cooking stoves to eight different villages (or rather, we went to one village where villagers from eight different villages gathered). The cooking stoves are meant to simulate what Cambodians normally use to cook, but instead of fill the enclosed cooking space with smoke, these new cook stoves make the indoor air quality (or rather, slightly-enclosed-space-air-quality) much better (and contrary to popular belief, indoor air quality is often worse than outdoor air quality). The stoves are also meant to reduce time spent cooking, allowing the villagers to pursue other projects and improve overall quality of life.

Getting the surveys organized

We arrived at a village Town Hall at about 9:30am, and the families from the eight villages selected to receive the stove also met us there. In order to be selected to receive the stove, each family had to fill out a baseline survey, asking questions such as "How long does it take for you to cook dinner?" or "How many people do you cook for?" The surveys will avoid yes/no questions unless it is about something directly observable (ex: "is there soap in your bathroom area?") and not opinion ("do you think you cook for a long time?"). After the families who want the stoves fill out the survey, the village chief (of the eight villages, there was one female village chief which is quite rare--they are almost always male) decides who gets the stove. Trailblazer picks the villages, the village chief picks the villagers. Trailblazer works within the already existing systems as not to impose onto the villages; however, this can also create problems if the village chiefs are corrupt (as is often sometimes the case).

Village chief collecting money and recording it

The Cambodian president of Trailblazer, Ratanak, showed the villagers how to use the stove briefly, and the stove itself came with picture instructions. Scott, one of the American founders of Trailblazer explained how it had taken two years to get the stoves shipped from the US with customs and everything. Some villagers had already paid the $1.50/6,000Riel fee for the stoves, while with others we saw the transaction take place with the village chief taking and recording the money for bookkeeping. The money goes to a central village fund / savings account, as I described a bit in my first post.

Strapping the stoves to bicycles and motos

Getting the stoves turned into a celebration of sorts. With each stove handed out, we got a photo of giving it to the villager. In my honest opinion, this was excessive. I understand how monumental this stove was for the people, and played along with the photos, but did so through a rather fake smile (I was a cheerleader in high school). As someone who really is not a fan of getting photos of myself when I literally appear like a ball of sweat, my hair is sticking straight up, and dirt is stuck to my sunscreen-slathered face, I was not amused.  One of them men receiving the stove remarked about its high quality, literally saying "Looks like quality" and was very excited and proud to have the stove--it was truly moving. Men, women, and children strapped the stove to their motorbikes or bicycles to go home, excited to use them. 

The Village

Ride to Poon te'Bang village

Yesterday, I went to Koon's (a man who is part of Trailblazer) village Poon te'Bang (this is how it sounds to me) for the whole day, which was very interesting and great to get out of the city where I fear being run over every other five minutes. We left from Siem Reap at 10am sharp, although I had been up since 6am thanks to the Cambodian music blasting from the house next to me (some sort of traditional violin, wooden xylophone, and loud singing. I have realized this goes on from sunrise to sun set. Seeing as I have dealt with now six power cuts ranging from 30 seconds to 2 hours, it is surprising to me that they use their power on this boombox instead of savoring it for, maybe, light).

I had never been that far outside of Siem Reap before, and it was truly (and expected-ly)  a whole different world from Siem Reap. Although only 31km away, suddenly the roads were not paved, toilets became holes in the ground, doors where non-existent (the houses were on stilts), and patches of different shades of green filled the landscapes like a carpet. It was interesting to see the different government signs, most commonly the Cambodian People's Party (Hun Sen's camp), the Cambodian National Rescue Party (of which I have never heard and wonder if there is a different name as well), and FUNCINPEC (Front Uni National pour un Cambodge Indépendant, Neutre, Pacifque, etc Coopératif or in English National United Front for an Independent, Neutral, Peaceful, and Cooperative Cambodia). The CPP had a center in nearly every village we passed through, and Hun Sen's face (and a bad picture of him, honestly) plastered on signs in even the most remote areas. 

So I have been told, people continue to vote for Hun Sen because they know nothing else. Elections are this July, and he is expected to win (or rather, he has little competition as people are too scared) again. According to Sophie, a Cambodian-American I met in Poon te'Bang who immigrated to the USA in 1981 from a Thai rescue camp and was returning to visit her mother, the people are just happy that it is not the Khmer Rouge, and that essentially "anything is better than the Khmer Rouge." Even though Hun Sen he no godsend, he is not Pol Pot. If the people and live and work, albeit often under the poverty line, this is still better than the Khmer Rouge. This is not meant to insinuate that the Khmer people do not care.

Also dotted along the villages and houses were signs from where filters, schools, houses, toilets, etc. had been donated. The most popular signs were from Japan, Canada, Australia, the U.S., and I saw one from the EU. I find it interesting that instead of just donating a water filter or toilet, the country or organization has to make it known who donated the filter, etc. rather than just put the filter in. I understand that with Trailblazer, for example, if the filter says Trailblazer then there is knowledge of accountability if something goes wrong. But the Honolulu Air Force Team? No. In my personal opinion, rather than have your name stamped onto the charitable act, just give it. Do you have to be recognized for everything?

I never say no to a coconut. 

After walking about to visit Koon's multiple friends and random cousins (and being told that I was the tallest girl they have ever seen, asking how much I weighed and asking me to step on a scale that looked more appropriate to weigh mangosteens (I declined to step on it), listening to "Thrift Shop" on the radio with smart aleck ten-year-olds and dancing a bit in my chair (they could not contain their laughter), and holding a baby without any pants on who I prayed wouldn't suddenly pee), I ate lunch and drank a huge young coconut. A woman then split open my coconut and gave it to a very young child (age unknown) who proceeded to scrape the meat out and get it all over herself. Lunch consisted of really good rice, a soy sauce chopped chili concoction, fried eggs, and water spinach. Koon kept apologizing that it was not pizza, and that it was not the famous (yet expensive and not widely eaten by Cambodians on a quotidian basis) amok you get in the center of town. I wanted to shake him and tell him that this is what I liked--not the food in the center of town that as I described earlier, the taste is truly MIA. I did not shake him, and I did tell him how good the food was, but I fear he did not understand (which will change soon as I take my Khmer lessons!) It truly aggravates me that everyone thinks that because I am a Western white girl I want pasta and pizza, but no, the pasta and pizza in Asia are often terrible and I much prefer Cambodian food by a landslide. Really--I remember having pasta at a swanky restaurant in Bangalore and just thinking how it tasted like a Lean Cuisine. No thanks. [Side note: Num Pang Sandwich Shop on 12th and University Place is amazing, yet far from anything I have had on the streets of Siem Reap yet)

After lunch we walked around more and talked to even more people, some of whom were huddled around a black and white television, we went back to Siem Reap. My butt was basically numb by the time I got back to my guesthouse and I struggled to sit still on the back of the moto. 3 hours on a motorbike truly takes a toll on your rear end, and even when I sat on my bed upon arriving home (and all I can say about my bed is that I am glad massages here are cheap), I stood up immediately.