Cambodia

I arrived in Cambodia Jan. 8, the day after the 30th anniversary of the fall of the Khmer Rouge, an absolute nightmare of a regime that murdered as many as 3 million Cambodians.

So with this as a general news peg, we are taking a look at various aspects of human rights in Cambodia, trying to examine how human rights have progressed during the three decades since Pol Pot's fall.

On the surface at least, this country is beautiful; certainly from a visual perspective it is. The people are sweet, the motorcycle and tuk-tuk drivers (you can hire a motorcycle driver just like you would a taxi in the States) don't try to rip you off too badly, they rarely honk their horns and hardly ever litter. And beggars are relatively rare as well. Oh, and for me the most important aspect is that the climate is amazing here this time of year. Temperatures have been running in the mid-20s Celcius (or late 70s Fahrenheit), and humidity was pretty bearable for the first week, although it has risen considerably in the last few days and rained. It's still very much an Asian country, and I hope this doesn't offend any of my Indian friends, but from a Western perspective, it feels like an India Lite.

But, even so, there are really, really horrible things going on here, juxtaposed with some really great efforts by individuals and non-governmental organizations (NGOs). You have child trafficking, landmines, you name it. The other day we went out with volunteers with an NGO called Korsang Khmer who distributed syringes and condoms to intravenous drug users (IDUs), saw them cooking, shooting up, playing with their children.

Talk about a ridiculous assignment for me. First, I go up to the Indian Himalayas to write about a village that produces the world's best hash, and I can't even smoke a cigarette without half dying. Then, I go to Cambodia to watch heroin addicts shoot up, and I can't bear the sight of injections. I once passed out in a hospital in Maine while interviewing a cardiac surgeon who was merely DESCRIBING an open-heart surgery -- one second, I am taking notes, next, I'm feeling cold floor tiles on my face. Anyway, I did get a little woozy watching this woman inject her friend's leg with heroin in an abandoned lot. He no longer had arms, because he had gotten on the wrong side of a street gang in Thailand, and so depended on his friend for his high.

I am excited to be here, but I’m still feeling a little off. The only piece I’ve written since the police beat me up in India was the one Tehelka commissioned about the incident (which they still haven’t paid for). I hadn’t really thought about my lack of prolificacy until last night, when Jodi was playing with my phone and came across some photos of my face in the aftermath. She asked if I had written about it, and I realized I hadn't written anything about anything since the Tehelka piece, at least not for publication.

This is not meant to be an introspective blog, but this is all I can write at the moment, and I need to get back to writing, so I might as well put it down and get on with it. Just so I have a record of what’s been published about my trips, by myself and others, here are links to articles about the incident in: Outlook India, Some Weird Petition Site, Huffington Post, The Independent and The Guardian. Maybe a few others, I guess. I never did hear any feedback on the NDTV news spot where the woman interviewing me had me strip down to my underwear on national television. Ha! One of my life's ambitions! (It was to show the bruises, gashes, etc.)

Of course, my 'off' feeling could have something to do with that fact that I have been living out of a backpack for almost a year now. It’s a freeing feeling to carry so little, but it also would be great to eventually find a place to settle. I just don’t know where that place or time will be. The world is so big. I think it will be a long time.