I have certainly come a long way from where I first got started on my travels.  While I am still not a “seasoned traveler” by any means, I am definitely not the same person I was a few months ago who was reading books about vagabonding and struggling to choose a destination. 

To put it in a nutshell – and to borrow a term from a new friend – this trip has been the ultimate ‘learning adventure.’ 

And really, the adventures have only just gotten started…because, as is the nature of travel, it has literally opened up a whole new world.  

Photo credit: PEPY

So for the people who have asked if I am “coming home for good,” coming home “to stay”… the answer is an enthusiastic no.   

The more I see, the more I want to see.  

During my trip, I have happily settled into daily life in an entirely unfamiliar place.
I have loved learning the little details about a new culture. 
I also discovered that it is difficult to learn new language like I thought I would with only a pocket phrase book and a loose commitment. 

So many lessons have been learned. 

Photo credit: PEPY

And, amidst all of it, I was able to dig up the courage to tell-it-like-it-is – to commit to write honestly and ‘nakedly’ about my travel experiences. 
(Let me tell you – to learn-out-loud by publicly admitting rookie mistakes and naivete is completely against my personal nature.  It was not an easy resolve for me to keep.) 

However, the more I challenged myself while I traveled – to overcome my own barriers as well as to learn about some of the serious problems in the world today - the more empowered I became as an aspiring social entrepreneur to uncover innovative solutions.   

Now more than ever I feel the urgency – and the capability - to tackle our most pressing problems.  
Problems like global health, human rights, and education. 
And I have met a crew of changemakers working to do just that.  

Traveling has made me feel more alive, passionate, confident, and certain than I have ever felt before in my life.  

So, as I wrap-up this most recent adventure and head on toward the next, let me say this to you.  In your life, if you ever come anywhere near a chance to travel, promise me you’ll do just one thing.  

GO. 

That is the only – and the best - piece of advice I can give. 

Photo credit: PEPY

- – - – - 

This post concludes my travel blogging adventures.  The SEA|change Project will continue at SEAchangeTour.com where I will be writing on the interviews and lessons-learned about social entrepreneurship during my trip.  To continue to follow along, subscribe to receive updates either by email or RSS! 

Thank you for reading.

Certainly no resemblance to the average American supermarket…

But it has everything you might need…if you have time to sort through the madness to find it.

And if you are in a hurry, there is always the drive-through…

(Photo credits and thanks to Mark Wiens for the fantastic collection of Cambodia pictures.  For great travel tips, pictures, and stories, check out Migrationology.)

***What’s a MicroNote?

Some of the girls looked bored, some waited anxiously.  All of them were watching the door.  

What are they all waiting for? I asked myself as I walked into the lobby with a group of my Khmer friends.  The girls and I eyed each other curiously.  

I had just walked into a fancy karaoke establishment in Phnom Penh.  (How did I know it was ‘fancy’?  Because I had arrived in a friend’s Mercedes.)  

Photo credit: insihanoukville.com

In a VIP karaoke session you will find: 

A private room with elaborate couches, drink tables, and a private bathroom.  A young lady sits in the corner specifically to manage the karaoke equipment and song requests.  Once there is a steady flow of Khmer love songs playing up on the screen – which is the size of the entire wall – a few more girls enter.  These girls will wait on the customers the rest of the night, making sure the glasses are never missing either of the two essentials: ice and beer.  

I guess one could argue for the private room idea.  It saves our ears from tone-deaf performances, and saves ourselves from the mass-audience embarrassment of a drunken decision to reach for the mic in a bar full of people.  However – a private room also paves the way for the sex worker industry.  

When we entered the private room, the men I was with settled into the couches with their glasses of beer-on-ice.  The door to our room opened. A handful of Cambodian girls, who I had seen down in the lobby, walked in.  They formed a line in front of us.  

There was chatter amongst the guys.  The men pointed to one girl and she came to join us on the couches.  A wave of the hand and the rest of the line turned and marched out of the room.  

My jaw dropped.  The realization hit me so hard I lost my breath.  I had been wondering what the girls were doing in the lobby.   Here was my answer.  They were waiting for their next customers. 

I turned sharply to my ‘friend’ who I was cozy with on the couch (yes, I was on a sort-of date…a date that will go in the record books as being one of the most astonishing).  

“Wait,” I whispered.  ”What just happened?” 
He explained: “They choose which girl they like.” 
“Choose a girl? For what?” 
“Maybe some dancing.  Maybe some of my friend would like to have time with girl tonight.”  

I tried to process what this meant and I felt my eyes widening in shock.  Horrified, I watched as another row of women entered the room and lined up.  The men perused the row and discussed amongst themselves again.     

“So, which one do you like?” I asked my friend in a tone that inadvertently came out as sarcastic and disapproving.  I was attempting to make a joke, but I know I did not sound amused.  What I really wanted to know from my local “love-interest” was: Do you use girls like this?  In your culture, is this ‘normal’?  Is this acceptable to you?  Don’t you see anything wrong with this picture!?  

As blatantly obvious as it already was, I was hoping to find evidence that this was not in fact a tolerable practice in Cambodia.  I was hoping that this was not a display of ‘acceptable’ treatment of women.  I was looking for some sort of recognition in my friend’s face as to why I was getting upset over this situation. 

“Oh!  No, cannot!  Tonight I am with you.  Only you are cute for me.  The others, I don’t like.”  Instead of melting my heart, his explanation made my heart drop.  (That is, until he sang to me later, and then my heart did melt just a little bit despite the circumstances.)   His answer said: yes, this is how we treat women…and we don’t see anything wrong with it.    

In the second round, the men did not see any women that they liked.  (By the way, all of these young girls were very beautiful, so I am not sure what ‘criteria’ the men were judging on.)  A wave of the hand shooed them out for yet another line to march in.  This time the men picked out two more girls who giggled together and scurried over to the couches to join us.  

Immediately the girls set to flirting with the boys, bantering playfully and exuding a physical closeness that, in daylight, would certainly violate Khmer standards of propriety. 

Again I had to verify what was happening. “Can the men pay to have sex with these women?”   
Are these girls for sale? 

“Yes.  Sometimes.  If man and girl discuss together and decide, maybe they will go to be together after song.” [Translation: for some of these guys, the festivities would continue on after the karaoke party was finished.]  My friend explained this to me in a way that suggested that the men think this is a reasonable thing to do, if the man ‘respectfully’ negotiates with the woman beforehand the terms and price of their sexual exploits.  In their minds this makes it a fair, consensual agreement.  To me this was poor, deluded logic…and I wasn’t buying it.    

Sitting in that room felt wrong.  I felt like somehow just being there made me accessory to a crime.  Isn’t it a crime to watch something wrong take place and not do anything about it?  

So what was I to do?  Sadly, voicing my disapproval did no more to impact the situation than cause my Cambodian friends to look at my disapproval with a displeasure of their own.  Turns out the saying is true: change does not happen overnight. 

But change must happen.  We cannot allow this to be the life story of Cambodia’s wonderful women and children: 

Photo credit: daughterscambodia.org

In my time in Cambodia, when the young Khmer ladies speak to me in English they call me ‘sister.’  “Sister where are you from?”  “Sister, how are you today?” 
These are my sisters.  It was heart-wrenching to witness the complete lack of rights, choices, and opportunities that these women have in their lives, in their society, in their country. 

What is worse is to realize that what I saw was only a very small part of a very epic problem affecting so many women all across the world.    

Let’s change that. 

Related Links:
“My Story – A Daughter’s Testimony” – Daughters of Cambodia NGO
“Cambodia bars women from marrying South Koreans, citing human trafficking fears” – Associated Press
“Vice crackdown raises concerns” – Phnom Penh Post 

“Because I’m a Girl” – Dwight Turner, In Search of Sanuk
“Three Proven Steps to Advance the World’s Women on International Women’s Day” – Nicholas Kristof, NYT

Needless to say, it is going to be difficult to leave Cambodia…

Photo credit: Ali Jones

Photo credit: Ali Jones

Photo credit: Charles Dittmeir

I spent the night in a Cambodian hospital.  Luckily for me – and not so luckily for my friend – I was not the one in need of medical care. 

After hours of stomach pain into the late hours of the night, my friend begged me to take him to the hospital.  When walked into the closest emergency clinic, I lost my breath. 

It took only moments for me to hate the idea of staying the night in that place.  In those moments, not only was I praying for my friend’s safety but I was begging a higher power to please never let me end up in need of a doctor while I am in Cambodia. 

Primitive.  Prison-like.  Incredibly unclean.  How can this be!?  This is the 21^st century, isn’t it?  Yes, I know it is…I saw a 2010 Lexus drive by me on the street earlier in the day.  The beds, the equipment, the facility.  The doctors.  All seem to come out of a previous era in time. 

I took in the view of this hospital.  The statistics I have read are starting to make sense.

People die right here in this building from curable, treatable causes.  Yes, I have heard all about the lack of healthcare in the developing world.  But this is the first time I have had to take a seat in the waiting room. 

The medical knowledge and equipment is so frighteningly inadequate.  The emergency medical response system is barely existent within the city – and with 85% of the population of the country living outside of cities, so many people have no access.  So many people go without care. 

People die because they cannot make trips out of the country for healthcare (which, by the way, is what is recommended for foreigners in Cambodia:  seek medical care elsewhere!).  People die because knowledge and resources here are poor.  People die because they are poor.   

I know my friend and the nurses thought they were being nice by insisting I rest my head on the bed.  They had no notion that my reluctance was because the bed sheets were not clean.  The wastebasket beneath it was still full of bio-hazardous waste from God-knows-how-many previous patients.  The bed itself looked – and felt – like the rusty metal frames people are chained to in horror films.

While my friend was hooked up to a meager-looking IV device, I forced myself to stay awake as long as possible.  Luckily the writer in me had packed a notepad and pen.  I fell asleep while drawing a thank-you card for the doctors, my face nestled in my book (hey, the book was cleaner than the pillow).  I don’t think they could read my thank-you card, but every time they came to check on my friend they smiled warmly at my picture which they understood I had drawn for them.  (Rule number one of being in any hospital: make friends with the nurses).  However, they did not hesitate to bring the bill.

My friend – who could barely lift his head off the bed – had to fumble through his billfold for a $50 bill in order to receive the rest of his care.  That is so much money here.  That is more money than I ever carry around with me.  That is more than most Cambodians have. 

If my friend was not wealthy, what would the doctors have told him?  Well, I know the answer to that, they would have immediately turned to me for the cash.  And if I was not there…what then?  What happens to the people who do not have the money? 

I can answer my own question.  I don’t want to. 

The ugly truth is this.  We live in a world where the amount of money a person has in their pocket will determine whether or not they live or die.  And that’s just not right.

The heavy humid air here in Asia has a way of making the smells and the dirt cling to one’s skin.  I returned home when the sun was just rising and the streets were still empty.  I scrubbed my skin raw in the cold shower. 

Loving Cambodia is not always easy. 

Photo credit: Nick De Marco

Related links:

“When acces to healthcare matters most: a personal experience of emergency medical care” – Yasmina Zaidman, Acumen Fund blog

“Kidney for a Cold” – Kanitha Heng

UNICEF Country Statistics: Cambodia

Some are travelers just passing through and some are longer-term expats – but all of them have great descriptions.

Here are some of my favorites.  Enjoy! 

Photo Credit: Ali Jones

A Photo Essay: “Phnom Penh Cambodia“
Uncornered Market, uncorneredmarket.com

Mango Season!  “Mango”
Stephanie Zito, wanderingzito.com

A Love/Hate Relationship: “Being a Hater and Lover: Phnom Penh Compacted”
The Hospital ‘Experience’:  “Kidney for a Cold”
Kanitha Heng, kanithaheng.blogspot

Making a Killing:  “The Khmer Riche”
Andrew Marshall, andrewmarshall.com

Handling Hangovers and Bag Snatchers:  “Lessons in Playing a Good Host in PP”
Ali Jones, alijones.blogspot.com

Photos: City Life and Dump Children:  “Cambodia“
Julian Li, www.julian.li

Pushing Out the Poor:  “Evicted“
Joel Elliott, globalpost.com

Look Like a Native:  “How to Be Native in Cambodia“
Mark Wiens, migrationology.com

Rights, Racisim, and Personal Direction:
“Don’t Forget What Direction You’re Going“
Cody McKibben, thrillingheroics.com

Photos: Mmmm, Food:  “Photos from Cycle Touring and Eating in Cambodia“
Tom Kevill-Davies, hungrycyclist.com

A Cambodia Link Round-up:  “Tales from the Road: Cambodia“
Tim Patterson, thetravelersnotebook.com

1. My experiences traveling in Asia
2. My experiences meeting changemakers along the way

I have been telling you a lot about my travel experiences. 
I have yet to tell you about the changemakers!  

I admit it to you.  I have been slow in getting the ball rolling.  Like Sean Ogle from Location 180 recently reflected over in his post “Location Independence Myths Busted” – it is damn hard to work AND travel.  Challenges (and distractions) abound.  I have had such an amazing time traveling, living in a new country, and interviewing social enterprises that I have had little time left over to share all of the details. 

Until now. 

SEAchangeTour.com

I am happy to finally and officially introduce the SEAchange Tour website.  This is the place where I will share what I learn about social entrepreneurship while I am in South East Asia – specifically in Cambodia.  

• Subscribe to receive updates by Email or by RSS
• Follow @SEAchangeTour on Twitter

***What’s a MicroNote?

Oh. No.  This is not a good sign, loud and clear.  My driver wants to take me somewhere that we can ‘be alone and talk.’

My Mistake (yes, I repeated one of the same mistakes as before):  Once again I had not stuck with the group.  When someone else is driving, they can decide at any moment where they want to take you.
Lesson: Only ride with drivers you know and trust to bring you to where you tell them to – especially at night.

I knew this was not good.  But I was okay at this moment…even though I didn’t have much of a say in the matter anyway.  It was still early enough in the night.  Despite some discomfort with the situation, I was certain that I was not yet in immediate danger.  I knew he would take me to meet up with the others soon.  And we did. 

However, this did not bode well for the driver’s intentions.  I became fully aware of my precarious position.

Mistake:  After 3 Red Flags, I still had not formed an action plan for getting myself home.  Things were moving so fast.  I was disoriented as to where exactly in town we were.  And a part of me was actually having a good time being out in Phnom Penh.  The other part of me was certain that just-any-old driver on the side of the road was NOT a better bet for getting home more safely than via my current guy.
Lesson:  Listen to your instincts.  Your gut is always right, and it is your most powerful defense.  Remove yourself immediately from a situation in which you feel even an ounce of uneasiness.

We drove up to a riverside dance club, and one of our crew ran out and pulled me inside straight to the dance floor.  My UK friend and I were the only white people in the place, and it was my first time really hearing – let alone dancing to - Cambodian music. I had SO MUCH FUN!!

But soon it had gotten very late.  The club closed. My now overly friendly driver had a few Angkor’s (Cambodian beers) too many.  Drunk motorbike driving is actually quite common around here.  Paired with a very loosely enforced helmet law and the roads get exponentially more risky at night. 

My driver was seriously swerving along the road.  Combine this with his several attempts to turn around and give me a kiss while driving, and I had a serious problem on my hands.

This is when my pleading began.  “Please take me home.  I am tired.  You told me you would take me home.  We can go out again some other time.” Uh, yeah right!  Ever see this creeper again?  HELL no.  But I think women who have been in similar situations know that some sugar-coating and coercion can be a helpful tactic.  I certainly did not want to piss this guy off.  Better to play the sweet-girl card first. 

The next place we stopped was not home.  The group stopped at a mini-mart to buy more drinks.  My English friend surprisingly hadn’t held her own in the Angkor-drinking marathon and was napping it off in the tuk tuk.  More drinks inspired the gentlemen to want to go to a local karaoke bar.  Note: karaoke bars here are NOT the karaoke bars of the US.  They are much less innocent, and that is another blog post entirely. 

It was time for the sweet-girl act to go.  I started forcefully demanding to be taken home.  STILL no luck.  We got to the karaoke bar and I was now legitimately frightened.  My UK friend, who had rallied for another round, also realized there was trouble.  The two of us got in this guy’s face – which at first made him angry. 

So I pulled out the next tool in the toolbox – waterworks.  Certainly not my favorite trick of the female trade, but in this case it was not difficult for me to bring on the tears.  I was really upset.  I knew how close I was to moving from being this guy’s passenger to being his victim.  I needed to convince him immediately to take me home safely.

Are you wondering why it had to be this guy to take me home?  Why not find someone else?  Well…

• (a) this was before I carried a cell phone with me;
• (b) I still did not know what part of town I was in;
• (c) you can’t really hail a cab here because there are none to hail;
• (d) my guesthouse was always hard for drivers to find, even on the rare occasion that they did speak some English;
• and (e) from the looks of the guys on this street, I would have rathered to take my chances with my current creeper because he knew the directions to my place and he knew I could report his behavior to the guesthouse he works at.

Thankfully, the crying worked.  Finally we were driving in the direction of home.  But my tears didn’t stop for the entire ride home.  The driver kept telling me to ‘calm down.’  Note to guys, this is always the wrong thing to say to a lady when she is upset.  Always. (But this guy was clearly not the authority on how to treat a girl right.)  “Calm down!?!?  I AM calm!!”   So I (calmly) arrived at my guesthouse, locked my door tightly, then silently collapsed into bed wide-eyed as I reflected over the night’s events…and how close to danger I had been. 

That’s my story.

I have thought a lot about this experience.  If I went back in time, I believe I would make all of the same decisions.  I am actually glad that I was tested.  Obviously I am very thankful that there was not a more serious consequence for some of my naïve decisions. 

My message to you certainly is not: ”Stay at home.”  My message is: Listen to your gut.

The reality is: as travelers, we are in new places and new cultures all the time.  It is part of the risk and part of the thrill. 
However, we can find ourselves in situations in which the only thing we can do is follow our instincts…and recall the advice we have received from others. 

Here are the safety tips I can offer you based on this experience:

• Go with your gut
• Stick with the group
• Carry a local cell phone with you
• Carry a good chunk of cash with you
• Don’t trust every friendly face you meet
• Find a driver or friend you can trust who will come to pick you up at night and in serious situations
• Bring a business card from your hotel or guesthouse with you – preferably one that has a map on it and the phone number of the owner.  It’s also great to have directions written out in the local language.

Since that night, I have had numerous people ask me how I learned how to dance “Cambodian-style”.  I just smile and tell them it’s a looong story.  Thank you for listening.

***Have you ever found yourself in a dangerous situation while traveling?  What were some of your tactics for removing yourself from that environment?  What lesson did you take away from the experience? 

Wishing everyone safe travels!

At the beginning of my travels in Southeast Asia, I read a blog post from Brooke Ferguson at Business Backpacker about a dangerous encounter she had with a predator during a visa-run gone wrong.  I read her story and, as a fellow female traveler, I was a little shaken up.  But I also admired Brooke’s courage to talk openly about the close-call and the lessons she learned.  I learned from her experience because she was willing to share.

My first week in Cambodia, I also found myself in an unsafe situation.  Inspired by Brooke’s honesty - and in the spirit of my recent committment to ‘sit naked on the park bench’ - I am going to share the experience. 

As I continue to travel, I am actually quite grateful I had my own close-call.  It was eye-opening.  It taught me how to watch out for danger.  Most importantly, it taught me exactly how to trust my own gut - a skill I was very glad to discover that I have.  

This is how the story goes: 

My first few days in Cambodia were overwhelming.  Completely.  The streets were loud, dirty, and crazy.  Everyone was staring at me. 

From every street corner in the city there was at least one driver – if not an entire gang – calling out to me.  This was all much different from my first Asia experience in Thailand.  There were always plenty of other foreigners wandering about.  Any local onlookers were not as bold in Thailand as they are in Cambodia.

I admit it – I spent a few days not venturing far from my guesthouse.  However, there is only so much time you can spend hiding out in a guesthouse before you’ve got to take a few chances to venture out and explore!  And one of the ways I particularly craved to know Cambodia was from a local person’s view. 

I met a lovely English girl who was staying in the same guesthouse as me.  We got to know each other, and she raved about a group of ‘locals’ she had befriended.  They’d been going out every night to proper Cambodian restaurants and bars…the kinds that tourists just don’t find on their own.  The guys were a lot of fun, and took good care of her she said.  She assured me they were so great that – if I wanted to come out with them – they would of course drive me right back home whenever I was ready. 

Perfect.  “Thank you for the invitation, I would love to join you!” 

My First Mistake:  I whole heartedly believed my new friend’s claims about the integrity of this group of locals. 
Lesson: Wait to evaluate a situation for yourself before you rely on a new friend’s perspective.

I had my first invite to go out to experience the ‘real’ Cambodia!  But…I was about to learn what Cambodia can really be like.

Red Flag #1: The group of local friends turned out to be tuk tuk drivers. 
For those of you who have yet to meet a tuk tuk driver in your life – they are not always the most upstanding members of society.  Many of them are poor men who make a living from taking advantage of foreigners whenever they can. 

My Second Mistake: Being so new in the country, I did not understand that it was socially very strange in Cambodia for me to be going out late at night with this group of men.
Lesson: Take time to observe social norms carefully and ask about appropriate behaviors when exploring a new place.

I showed up to meet my friend and there was a whole gang of these guys.  They were very pleasant with me – full of compliments and questions.  I was cordial but cautious.  I was trying not to invite too much attention (however, like I mentioned about men constantly yelling out to me from every corner of the street, I have a difficult time keeping a low profile here as a foreigner).  I quickly made up a story about my ‘boyfriend’ to go along with the ring I wear on my left hand while I travel.

My Mistake: I did not realize that having the ring and the story would still not be a barrier against these guys’ attempts to flirt with me throughout the night.
Lesson: A ring or a significant other does not deter the motives of people with the wrong intentions. 

We all gathered and headed off to dinner, but our group was too large to fit into one tuk tuk.  Rather than be squished in between a horde of Cambodian men, I opted for the back of a motorbike driven by one of the few good English-speakers. 

Mistake! This meant I was now riding on a motorbike alone with a stranger, separated from the rest of the group, in a part of town I was not familiar.
Lesson: Stick with the group. 

Red Flag #2: We had an awesome dinner, BUT my UK friend picked up the bill – for a table of 10 people.  Not a single one of the men even reached for their pocket!  They automatically assumed the white girls would foot the bill.  
Turns out the bill was less than $20 – by Western standards, a great deal for dinner and drinks for TEN.  But the situation felt very odd.  I turned to my friend and whispered the question that had to be asked:
“Do you pick up the bill like this every time?”
“Yes.” 

I was shocked.  I had heard that sometimes it is expected that when a Westerner joins in the festivities with a group, the Westerner will pick up the bill.  But this situation was still pretty uncomfortable.  It concerned me that these men were so eager to take advantage – and so nonchalant about it, without even a word of thanks.

I had not planned accordingly to sponsor the gastrointestinal indulgences of an entire group of Cambodian tuk tuk drivers.  Not having brought so much cash with me, I told my friend I would chip in and give her some money when we got back to the guesthouse.

Another Mistake: Not having brought so much cash with me.
Lesson: Always always, ALWAYS have more cash money with you than you think you will need. 

We left dinner and headed for our first bar. 

BIG Red Flag #3:
“Where are you going?” I ask as my driver turns in the opposite direction as the rest of the group.
He says “I want us to have a drink together.  Just you and me.” ….

…Stay tuned for Part II…