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 I often feel like I am not doing anything worthwhile with my life. I feel most of my pursuits are self-indulgent, and at the end of it all while I will have some nice images passing before my eyes as I head to the great beyond, what sort of legacy will I leave? The more I travel the more I am increasingly at odds with the wicked ways of the world. There is so much beauty, but there is also so much misery, and much of it is only visible if it is directly threatening Western interests. I don't ignore it, but even here I just talk about it and actually do precious little.
The Holocaust was a terrible thing. It is also a well-known, and well documented universal suffering. The motto that has encapsulated that time since is Never Again. I wonder though how much heed has been paid to those words. I wonder how long this event will be used as justification for further unspeakable cruelties. I wonder if because the vast majority of people who suffered these atrocities were white that this is part of the reason it is still so well documented, and the victims so martyrized. I think at least in part the answer has to be yes. I do not mean to devalue the suffering of so many millions of people, it should be remembered and the people should be remembered. It should be taught in schools, and what happened and how it happened should be common knowledge. But what about the rest? If the Holocaust was to teach the world Never Again, why is it still happening? Why is the world still largely ignorant to the plight of people who have suffered in areas not directly in the scope of Western interests? The world is now watching with rapt attention to Trump vs. Clinton, though really whoever wins will have very little impact on the day to day affairs of the average citizen of the world. We are drawn too with morbid fascination to terror in Syria, and the threat of ISIS worldwide. Racial inequality in the US is front and centre as the #blacklivesmatter takes centre stage. This is just what the media chooses to tell us, and we get bombarded over and over again with the same stories, and what difference does it make? Has anything changed? What else is going on that is worthy of our attention? Whose plight is being ignored? Why did we not care about Rwanda? Sudan? Why do we support nations like Israel and Saudi Arabia, while denouncing Iran, Venezuela, Cuba? What difference is there between them all really? I want to share two stories to which I was vaguely aware of, but now have a stronger understanding of. I am realising already that this post is misguided and rambly, and hopefully by the time I am done it will have some sort of semblance. It goes back to the Never Again theme which I tried to establish. Since the Holocaust, at least as many, probably more people have died in a genocidal fashion and the world remains largely ignorant of this fact. The reason being is that these atrocities have taken place in areas that either do not serve Western economic interest, or their politics are wrong and therefore the people affected do not matter to western governments. The second story is related to human trafficking. A problem that receives very little media attention, but is every bit as horrendous as the plight of refugees in the Middle East, or African Americans in the United States. As the father of three daughters, this is particularly troublesome to me. I am presently visiting Cambodia. I was aware that there was a genocide here, and that it was recent, but I knew little else. Not the cause nor the scope. Now knowing both I am shocked and disturbed, not only by what happened, but the reaction of the world. Politic is a cruel mistress. In the late 1970’s The Khmer Rouge came to power led by Pol Pot, the communist dictator. In three years the Cambodian population of 8 million was reduced to 5. More than 1 in four Cambodians were murdered during this time, and the world was silent. The world perhaps did not really know it was happening. But when the Communist Vietnamese government became aware, they intervened and established a government in Cambodia that the West refused to recognise. Therefore Pol Pot and his henchmen were granted amnesty. The West had lost the ideological war in SE Asia, and no amount of human suffering could counteract incorrect non-capitalist governance. Here was a genocide that defied the lessons of the Holocaust, and it was not the first nor the last such instance. On this trip to Cambodia I visited the Killing Fields in Phnom Penh (anyone who comes here should). I have also visited Dachau previously. The sights and stories of the former far outstrip anything I witnessed at the latter. 3 million people were not worked to breaking point and then gassed. They were tortured, and then hacked down with machetes, bamboo, garden instruments, rope, rocks – whatever was available. If you were young enough to be held in one hand, you were bashed into trees. If one member of your family was guilty of an alleged crime you were guilty by association. The second story is related to human trafficking. During our stay in Cambodia we were very fortunate to stay in two places that did much to advance the lives of people affected by human trafficking, especially Daughters of Cambodia in Phnom Penh. The people employed by this organisation are all victims of human trafficking. They are given jobs by the hotel, and create charming handiwork that is for sale in the gift shop. Staying here was perhaps the best decision we made on our trip. We learned through our stay here that 1 in 40 girls in Cambodia are trafficked at some stage in their lives. Knowing this, and knowing that the girls serving us breakfast, making our rooms up, and answering our questions, were all victims put a very immediate human face to suffering in a way that no gas chamber, or holocaust museum ever could. This was a response to history still being made. I was faced with a crisis as well regarding my three girls. Nothing I could say would make them able to comprehend what these women had been through, how could they understand if I could not? I opted to tell Aurora and Brynn only that these women who were helping us had had some very unfortunate things happen to them in their lives, and that their jobs here were helping them to do that. Aurora said that was very sad, and that she would draw them a picture because they had been very nice to us. And to think, one day this innocent mind will one day be destroyed by the truth of what has happened here. I apologise for the nature of this post, but I wanted to tell some of this story because I feel it is an important one. It is not a happy one, but if you were to travel to Cambodia one day I want to assure you that there is still happiness here despite everything that has happened. You should come, it is a beautiful country one of my favourites, but you should not come naïve to the history. If you have made it this far I promise in the next post, I will speak of the more traditional tourist fare and family experiences we had in Cambodia’s north.
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 Quang Duc's self-immolation in 1963 To the locals it is still Saigon. There is a great respect toward the namesake of Ho Cho Minh, but people seem to find the title self-indulgent, and in the words of one of our guides, “Ho Chi Minh was a great man, but Saigon is a reminder of what Vietnam was before a century of occupation.” It is difficult to ascertain the true feelings of people in Vietnam. Anti-American propaganda is rampant, but the people seem to have a great admiration and respect for American people and its culture, this is a city that is as capitalist as NYC. Perhaps they recognise it was not the American people who ravaged their country for more than a decade, but rather a hegemonic Cold War government playing the most tragic game of ideological chess ever played? Perhaps, officially, old wounds die hard? And fair enough. The American government of the day laid waste to this country in what is known here as “The American War”. Going through the War Remnants Museum, meeting victims of Agent Orange, and reading up on this country’s history brought my American History Class from my uni days back into sharper focus than I thought possible. I had forgotten just how devastating this war had been. “Operation Rolling Thunder” was a horrific exercise, that in part saw more than three times the amount of ordnance dropped on Vietnam than by the Allies during the entirety of WWII in all of its theatres. Worse still, 106 000 civilians have been killed or wounded since the end of the war in 1975 due to unexploded bombs and landmines. There are some pretty disturbing photos of this here too.(read more about this here) I had forgotten altogether about the effects of Agent Orange, which are tragically still felt today. Through the museum there is a chilling display of photos of children born with horrific deformities even through 1996! By seeing the Củ Chi tunnels, I now have an awed understanding of the resilience of the Vietnamese people to live underground for more than twenty years resisting first the French, and later American occupiers. All the while, in the words of Gen. Curtis Lemay, being “bombed back into the Stone Age.” Vietnam was a disgusting war, and War criminals have not been brought to justice case in point Senator Kerrey, who you can read about here.  Time marches on: the same location now But enough of the controversial politics of the Vietnam War I could fill a book with what I have learned and what I already knew about that. This is a travel blog. I will turn my attention to our adventures in this crazy city. It is important though, I should add, to know about the places you are going and the history that has shaped them, especially such recent history with such visible scars. Arrival in Vietnam is not for the poorly researched. Guilty. I knew a visa was required, and payable upon entry. But was not aware of the form that needed downloading, the passport photos required, nor the letter of acceptance, and had forgotten entirely about the need for US dollars to cover the visa cost upon entry. Luckily I had at least looked into it on our last night in Malaysia, and paid through the nose for 12 hour express visa acceptance. Upon arrival though, I of course did not have any US$ (Stephanie did but our communication was lacking) nor did I have any Vietnamese Dong (VND), though this was not my fault as it is generally hard to come by outside of bordering countries. So, off to the smiley chaps at passport/visa control and you get a sense that Vietnam is perhaps a little more communist than you initially thought, perhaps Stalinist even. No ATM to cover Visa cost pre security so I am permitted out to the cash machine to secure the 5 million VND to cover our costs. I have of course been relieved of my passport, but am able to sweet talk the lady at the gates to let me out to get money. Money in hand I return to re-enter when I am not so lucky with the gruff doorman, whose only English seems to be PASSPORT!! I frantically gesture to the wads of cash in my hand and point at pass control in a vain attempt to return. I finally succeed, but when I return to the lanes by Visa control I am again thwarted by another guard who also only knows PASSPORT!! Luckily the guard who let me out in the first place shows up, and I finally get back in. All seemingly in order we head for a taxi, but we now don’t have enough for it, and the SIM card we opt to buy so I must go and get more money. I foolishly go without my passport thinking I can easily duck back in now that we have cleared customs. Upon trying to re-enter the terminal, I am accosted one final time, by who I am sure is the same guard as last time. Luckily Stephanie is within eyesight by now and is able to get me my passport, and he allows me back in even offers a curt head bow and smile in an effort to show that his bark is worse than his bite? From here things pick up. Hotel-fine. Taxi-fine. Traffic...mental! Did you know that 87million people live in area only 60000km2 larger than New Zealand? At 9 450 people/km2 it is the 20th most densely populated city on earth. I will post a video to Youtube at some-point to show the craziness of crossing a street with a family in tow here. Sidewalks, unlike Penang, are meant for traffic as well as pedestrians, even the markets have scooters ripping through them. Crosswalks are just a suggested place to cross, and mean little more than decorative street art. Ditto green man crossings. They key to crossing the street, and it really is a sport, is to keep your head on a swivel, and proceed with confidence that the streets and sidewalks belong to all means of transport, and all will be respected. But do not run, nor deviate from your course, or you will surely die. This was daunting at first, but after some casual observation while being driven, we discovered that despite their gruff resting angry faces, and demeanours, Vietnamese people rarely were victim to road rage, despite the constant gridlock, and they really were hyper aware of all that was going on around them. As far as sights go, we did a city tour, The Central Post Office, Notre Dame Cathedral, and Reunification Palace being highlights, but just being in the city is the experience. It is not something I would want to do for long, but I am glad that I did. The river dinner enjoyed up and down the Saigon River, gave us a glimpse of a modern Saigon, which has shown remarkable growth since the end of the Vietnam War 40 short years ago. It is vibrant and full of trade, commerce and entertainment. The aforementioned Củ Chi tunnels, and War Remnants Museum are not to be missed as they are important reminders of how the past has shaped the future of this city. Malaysia was honestly not even on my travel radar until we went to the travel expo earlier this year. The little bit of research I had time for revealed it to be a hodgepodge of cultures. There is a true multi-spiritual harmony, at least in Penang where we were, where Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and Christian communities all work alongside one another,(which can be viewed in Georgetown on Harmony Street of all places) with seemingly utmost respect for one another.
For our time in Penang we opted to rent a car for the time we were here. Adventures in Asian driving were about to commence. So right if way means nothing, crosswalks - what’s that? Lane paint is I think only meant as a guide to show you that you are in fact on a road, and the general direction it may happen to be curving. I must confess, I was keen to get out of Singapore as quick as possible because I thought that we would do nothing but haemorrhage money. We did in fact spend a lot of money, but it was all convenience items that we found dirt cheap after having lived in New Zealand for three and a half years. Stephanie now has a new phone. I have some camera extras. Aurora an Mp3 player, and all of us some portable charging devices. Nothing we needed, but we left so much more that we wanted!
I feared Singapore, the city country, because it was uber-developed, and I imagined it crowded and devoid of any sort of culture. While it is not brimming with the ancient sites you will find in its neighbouring countries, Singapore does have a great culture. We stayed in Little India, and I counted about 20 curry joints on the short walk from the MRT to our hotel. Public transit from the airport, a significant journey, cost us $2.50SIN for the whole family, or less than the price of a single trip fare on the LRT in Edmonton, or the buses in CHCH! Transit in general was dirt cheap and went pretty much anywhere you needed to go. If you missed a train, the next was by in 2 minutes. I later discovered that there is an obnoxious tax on getting a car on the road in Singapore, that can make ordinary vehicles worth about $100000! |
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