street photography - Phnom Penh

It certainly was a new experience and one that took me so far out of my comfort zone I was actually shaking at times this morning! Glad I did it though. We started at 8am by taking a tuk-tuk down to a cafe on the riverfront where Eric explained the rules, tips and plan for the first location - a food market. The steps were basically to find a suitable subject, take a photo fairly close, show the photo to the subject to build rapport and then take some more of the same subject from a much closer position. Sounds easy right? But when he said close, he meant closer than one metre and when he said suitable subject he meant one with a clear background in a jam-packed food market where everyone's first focus was preparing and selling their wares! I did manage a few shots in the market that I was quite happy with but the second location blew me away. With our new found confidence, Eric took us to a very dilapidated building, which is used as an unmaintained block of flats, where incredibly poor and mainly unemployed people live. There was no lighting inside and rubbish everywhere, so it was dark and difficult to see what you were treading on. However, many sets of open stairs zig-zagged up the block at regular intervals along the street providing places with plenty of light where children played and adults gathered to eat or just sit and watch the market on the streets below. Here it was much easier to build rapport with the people as they had time to chat and we had space to work. I managed a few more shots that I am very pleased with. This beautiful little girl was one.
From there we went to a pagoda which could only be reached through an area where glue-sniffers hung out. Eric warned us to stay close and not to take photos of them or any of the disabled people that they pushed around on a wooden trolley bed - he said it was difficult to know if they would get aggressive or want money, so best to just walk on past.  We managed to get a few shots of one of the monks who lived there, but very soon we carefully made our way out along an alleyway where the sick and the homeless lined the walls.

The order of things during the day became somewhat of a blur for me from that point on, with only 3 hours sleep under my belt my head was spinning. We went to Tuol Sleng before lunch; the prison where officials were tortured and killed by the Khmer Rouge which was an eerie place for me as I have read so much about the country and the atrocities it has suffered in it's recent history. There were only seven people who were still alive in the prison when Vietnam arrived in Cambodia in 1979 to free them. Tens of thousands of people had been killed and tortured in the prison during the 4 year period of Pol Pots reign. Somehow taking photos of some of the rooms didn't seem right, so we wandered outside and I bought a book about the life of one of the two remaining survivors, Chum Mey. Chum, now 83, was sitting at a table under the shade of a tree inside the prison walls with a translator on hand to talk to people. He kindly wrote my name out inside the book and dated it in English above his Khmer signature. Incredible. I have to confess, nothing really seemed to matter much after that. We had a gorgeous lunch and then in the afternoon visited a Buddha "factory" and another Pagoda followed by the cremation temple for the late King Sihanouk which I found quite garish and very gold. Then thankfully it was beer time. A very long and emotional but successful day.

back at Hilary's and meeting our travelling companions

Would you believe it, the Mekong Crossing Pub does breakfast too - result - what a great way to start the day; fresh coconut and home-made cheese and tomato crumpets. Perfect, and just as we were finishing, our driver arrived twenty minutes early and off we went. Another two-hour drive back to Phnom Penh saw the usual mixed bag of heart-stopping overtaking, frighteningly loaded motorbikes and cows riding in the back of open top pick up trucks!
By the time we got back to the capital and checked in to our rooms it was of course beer o'clock and so we lounged by the pool trying to keep cool and I managed to finish my second book (albeit with a few silent tears) called "Children of the River" (another Khmer-based story).
We pottered about getting our gear charged and ourselves ready for the big meet up, during which I managed to completely blow all my attempts at cultural decorum.... I knew there was a reason I don't iron clothes.
I had done a bit of washing (smalls) and after finding the laundry price-list in the room decided the bigger items were better off done by hotel staff and nipped down to reception to hand over a couple of sweaty T-shirts and my long shorts. Whilst I was down there I also asked for an iron (my style of rolled-up travel-packing is great for maximising space, but doesn't do much for the appearance of skirts). Tonight we were to meet Eric and Greg for the first time and I wanted to make an effort. The girl on reception radio'd housekeeping (her brother I think) and told me she would bring the iron up. I returned to my room and sure enough moments later expecting to open the door and take said iron, I was faced with not one but three staff members carrying an item each... the first came in and set up the ironing board, the second plugged in an extension lead while the third connected the iron and placed it neatly in the holder on the end of the board. Much bowing and thanking went back and forth and all three of them departed giving me slightly strange looks - it was then I turned and came face to face with the 3 pairs of knickers I had hung up to dry on the wall hooks right beside the door!
I sauntered down at 7pm and red-faced walked straight past reception to find Mum and almost immediately afterwards, Eric, our photographic guide. Tall. Very very tall. Dutch, friendly and speaks incredibly good English. A short while later Greg came down the stairs, he had arrived at the hotel last night, he too handed over a pile of laundry before coming out to meet us and we all piled into a tuk-tuk headed for the Riverside pub/restaurant for dinner.
Greg is from Oregon and went on one of Eric's one day workshops in Siem Reap last May, so he has already been to many of the places we will go in a few days time. He is married, retired and seems to travel a lot around Asia. They both seem nice enough and the evening passed with a gorgeous meal (fish amok), a few beers, easy chat and some instructions about what was to come for the days ahead. I am a little nervous as Eric wants us to use shorter lenses than I'm used to and says we will be taking portraits in a food market tomorrow and will need to get up close and personal with our subjects. I'm so used to using a zoom for wildlife and staying at a relatively safe distance it will be a whole new experience for me.

Staying at - Hilary's Boutique Hotel

Crikey where do I start? what an amazing day!

Vivak Vong, the Plan Area Manager, and our driver arrived at our hotel at 8am in a posh pickup emblazoned with the Plan logo to take us to the Dambae district and on to Arafin's village.

The drive took an hour and a half during which time Vong talked us through the projects the charity is currently working on.

There are 3 programmes running at the moment which helps them to manage the projects in three age groups; 3 to under 6 which is the largest programme and deals with sanitation, water provision, rice growing and fish farming, then comes the 6 - 16 year old group which is primarily concerned with education and finally the youth group which is 17 to 24 year olds and focusses on reproductive health and parenting. It is typical in Cambodia for people to marry between 16 and 18 years old.

Arafin's mother is 33 years old and has 5 children (3 girls and 2 boys) Arafin is her oldest child at almost 16. So when I asked him if he was soon to be married, his shy shake of the head and coy smile (coupled with the joking jab in the back from his mother) told me he probably had a girlfriend but no plans to marry yet.

He's a good looking lad and could easily be mistaken for a western teenager with his modern emo haircut and skinny jeans, but when you look at his house you see he is far from Western. The house is not the same one as those in the photos Arafin has sent me in the past. They have done well for themselves in recent years and as such have moved to a house which they had built for them. The house is not on stilts as I had imagined, but is a large open rectangular room on the ground with a dirt floor and wooden slatted walls to let air in and out. The roof is made of corrugated concrete and is watertight. There are two raised wooden platforms for sleeping on and numerous wooden carved stools, an area for cooking over a fire and another in the corner for cleaning pans etc. 

There are ten of them living in the house; Arafin's grandparents, parents, siblings and Uncle and so I'm guessing they have quite strong and intimate family relationships as well as zero privacy. They have chickens but no pigs and as a family they farm cashew nuts to make a living.

They are a very beautiful family and you only have to look at their mother to see why, she clearly cares a lot about her appearance and that of her children. They all look healthy and very happy.
Rohanny, the eldest daughter, and probably the shyest of them all, was at school when we arrived. She sneaked in just as gifts were being handed out, but as Mum pointed out, once her muslim head cover was removed (to try out her new hair-clips), her shyness seemed to go along with it and she was soon playing elastic, skipping rope and giggling with the other girls. Another sister, the 4 year old I think, was the bravest of all when she stood alone in front of a room full of people and quietly sang a little song for us complete with all the actions. We later learned it was a song she had been taught at Plan's pre-school all about taking good care of yourself and your health. 

The inflatable globes went down a storm and before long we were surrounded by 20 balls hiding happy faces as they attempted to play a pass-it-on game with Vong... the trouble was they either didn't understand the rules or they were so reluctant to pass on their globes in case they never got them back! All too soon our time together was over and after saying our goodbyes, Vong took us to see Arafin's school. Being lunchtime, it was deserted apart from three teenage girls who have too far to walk home for lunch and so they cook rice for themselves in one of the staff rooms. We gave them a miniature sewing kit each and headed out to the Dambae Plan office to hear more about the local projects from the field manager and to taste a wedding sweet made of rice, coconut and sugar wrapped in some kind of leaf - interesting.
Lunch on the way back was an experience; Vong ordered a selection for himself and the driver, and we agreed to rice and fish. I live by the motto "if you can't tell what it is, don't eat it", and as a result, I ate just the fried rice and vegetables for lunch - either the word 'fish' was lost in translation or they have some strange creatures swimming about in these parts.
As we came back into Kampong Cham, Vong kindly took us to see the only remaining example of one of the traditional style of bridges built annually across the Mekong out of Bamboo. He says the bridge will only be rebuilt for the next 2 or 3 dry seasons as there is a new permanent concrete bridge being built further downstream for the island residents to use, making the annual bamboo bridge completely redundant. Seems a shame to let such a tradition die out, but I'm glad I got to see it when I had the chance. After climbing down the dusty track and back up again to grab this shot, I was approached by a monk who wanted to see the bridge too. Waving his camera at me, he asked me to go with him and I assumed it was to take a photo for him, but after some polite chat, it turned out that for some reason he wanted to have a photo taken of me and him in front of the bridge, so back down I climbed motioning to Vong to help by taking the shot - we took the picture and climbed back out, by now sweating profusely in 38 degree heat, but how do you say 'no' to a monk?
Back at the hotel by 3pm and a quick dip in the pool to cool off before Tuk-tukking it back to the "Mekong Crossing" for Angkor beer and some reflection as the night-life set itself up along the river-front and of course dinner. .... I thought I'd add a little variety this time and go with steamed rice and vegetables.

Kampong Cham on the Mekong

Ok so we have arrived safely in Kampong Cham, and have had a cracking day, but it's not been without it's complications. The driver arrived on time and we set off no problem, he does not speak a word of English, but he assured the guy at the hotel that he knew where we were going.  An hour or so passed by on the road and the scenery became more and more rural as we had expected. Houses were no longer on the ground but built on stilts and the fields were full of water lilies and dry grasses. Soon the traffic we were dangerously passing became more mopeds and bikes, carts and goats rather than lorries and buses. It was at this point the driver (who was constantly on his phone) unexpectedly handed his mobile to me. I had a chat with his daughter Fayi, who is studying English literature at a university in Phnom Penh. Turns out he either cannot read or didn't know the hotel where we were heading after all.  His daughter explained and within the hour we were unloading our luggage and trying desperately to explain to another non-English speaker that we had a reservation. She showed us to our rooms and to Mum's horror they were up 3 flights of stairs with no bellboy! I think it's safe to say she won't be travelling with that suitcase again.
After some time getting the aircon working and removing the beer cans from the bathroom (hopefully from the last occupant and not the cleaner), I met Mum for an exploratory walk into town. The intention was to change some riels and have something to eat.
However, the best plans and all that... we ended up getting a tuk tuk into town and spending four hours at the Mekong Crossing pub, drinking beer, coconut milk, and strange chocolate tea with tasty rice on the river front. In the picture Mum has just shown "Red", our waiter, a photo of my brother Lee.
So we failed to change any money and even more worrying, we didn't manage to get hold of the Plan co-ordinator to confirm tomorrows trip as the phone number we have for him is disconnected! let's hope someone turns up at 8am to collect us.

another travelling day

Let the battle commence.... hours sleep = 4, mosquitoes dead = 5.

A few hours broken sleep meant that by the time 9am rolled around I was out cold and woken by Mum hammering on my door. I was supposed to meet her for breakfast at 830am - oops. When we arrived last night we arranged a driver for today who will collect us at noon and drive us the 3 hours it will take to get to Kampong Cham. Right now we are sat by the pool with an hour to go before the driver arrives. We had a traditional Cambodian breakfast of fresh lychees and papaya followed by egg fried rice with vegetables, then a quick dip in the pool as the air is permanently hot and sticky. I am slightly ashamed to say that we haven't yet changed any US dollars into Cambodian Riels; I was planning to ask Eric the photographer the best place to do it, forgetting that we will probably need Riels for the village visit over the next couple of days.
£1 = 6,160 Cambodian Riels (KHR) and $1 = 4,000 Riels.