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Sunday, January 22, 2017

Hear me Roar

Ottawa
The most satisfying complement I've ever received wasn't being acknowledged for my kindness, it wasn't based on my intelligence (although, much appreciated) and it certainly wasn't about my looks, or my eyes (oceans, baby blue, icicles, I've heard it all). No, I was sitting in a Cafe drinking fancy coffee, with 18% cream and exotic brown sugar, where my friend and mentor mentioned my blog, but more importantly told me I was a bit of a radical feminist. I beamed. Nicest thing I've ever been told. And now we're on to something.

Phnom Penh
Despite America's promises of having checks and balances in place to ensure that the Newly Elected President, Donald Trump can only do so much damage, he's already overcome the first hurdle, the one where he now has an incredibly prestigious and powerful position as the Forty Fifth President. Four years can be a Very. Long. Time.

I've never thought we've reached equality within this world, and after Trump was elected, I've never been more sure that Sexism, Racism and all those other 'Isms' exist and will become more and more prominent within this world; surely we have taken many steps back. We are in so much trouble, and this isn't just for those who had the legal right vote for or against this President. Despite where you're residing in this world, be it the United States, Canada, China, Cambodia or Columbia, we are going to be very much impacted by this year's American Presidential Election. Especially those within a minority, who is essentially those who are not White, Wealthy, Powerful, with or without a penis.

Last night myself and a fellow travel mate attended a small but powerful Women’s March on Washington – Phnom Penh Solidarity. It was much smaller turn out than what took place in Ottawa (I've been vigorously loving the photos my cousin's been posting) and it's certainly tiny in comparison to what took place in Washington, but it's no less important and I would be willing to bet it created those exact same, empowering, wont-take-shit, we're-in-this-together, feelings that were spread around the globe. And like Trump's Inauguration that took place on January 21st, this is only the beginning. I will continue to to make my voice heard and to disagree with those thoughts, opinions and actions that I quite simply cannot stomach. I will use those attributes of safety, stability, education and financial security that I was fortunate enough to either be born with or work for, and stand up for those who don't have that power that I know I was blessed to have. I'm fighting for me and I'm fighting for those who either can't or think they don't have to.

Sincerely,


A Feminist.

It's time for a change.

Sunday, January 15, 2017

What we're here for.

I've been on the road for just over thee months. I would say that compared to many of the travelers that I've run into, three months isn't a terribly long travel time. For my own agenda and preferences, I think my soul would be happier if I multiplied this duration by, lets say, four. It's never enough time. I have had some hardship on the road, though. I have regularly encounter first-world debacles, like the hassle of living out of a backpack and using the ol' sniff test to see which shirt is clean or those minor annoyances of running out of clean clothes and wearing my bathing-suit bottoms - again. When I find myself jumping from place-to-place, country-to-country, where one Wat (temple) becomes just like another Wat and I'm becoming desensitized those sights and activities that really should be mind blowing, I ask myself, what did you come for?

This question screams in the back of my brain ever so loudly in midst of a problem that is a little more serious than typical travel girl problems, and when I find myself asking this question lately, admittedly, I've been left short on the answer. I've had to figure out the steps required to get back everything that is valuable to my life: Passport, phone, money, access to money, passport, Passport, PASSPORT; this has required an insane amount of work, where I've shamelessly, but with much guilt, reached out to Friends, Family and Friends of Family as well asking perfectly pleasant strangers, for help. I know I've taken years off my mum's life as well as greedily taken advantage of my older sisters up-all-nighters while nursing a newborn and begrudged her with my own frustrations and many, many tears. And when it becomes too much, I've slammed my younger sister with uncensored Facebook messages, forcing her to share some of the weight that I'm unable to carry with regards to my fears and concerns about essentially being stuck in a foreign country, without an end date or any way to get out. I'll leave well enough alone and provide a more detailed Post of the Case of the Stolen Blue Backpack (and all that is important to me) to a time where I'm less emotional.. But I'm genuinely grateful for the support system I've often taken for granted. I'm also curious to see if my mum will ever watch Hugo again to allow me to leave the country.

So, like I've said above, during the last ten days, I've found myself asking this question quite a bit, and admittedly, at my worst, coming up without an answer. This is until my crazy is calmed by the good vibes of fellow backpackers at the hostel I'm at. When we swap silly stories and reveal our own woes to one another, and those memories start flooding back. And, it's not those big events, like seeing Ankor Wat in Cambodia during sunrise or successfully hiking the Murapi Volcano in Indonesia. It's actually those little things that take more time to dig up up in my memory, but I'm sure will be fondly remembered spirituality when I'm back at home.

Happiness comes from having my very first beach camp fire while volunteering in Thailand. It's the famous Bed-Bus trip with my American travel soul-mate where we quite comfortably shared a single 'bed' for 20+ hours on our way to Laos, this was prior to another glorious event of cycling around the stunning countryside with a random dog following, and perhaps, protecting us. That trip brainlessly took place just shy of the sun setting and being forced to navigate with an iPhone torch. It wasn't so much as watching the sunrise on a Volcano on Christmas Day that I'll remember, but getting my ass completely and utterly kicked on the four hour hike up and still managing to make it up. My group and I breathlessly confided to one another that we're so exhausted we could die. When the sun came up, I was happily snuggling up between a girl from Singapore and our tour guild to try keep our body heat up, while smiling and saying that it wasn't so bad.. I absolutely loved traveling third-class with the locals, and finally finding and riding the Number Nine Bus (feeling like a local) while coming back from The Place that Started with an A, during the quick and dirty duration I wasn't soloing it in Asia. The trip to Ayutthaya was much less seamless but ultimately we were just as proud of that gong-show. Phnom Penh finally started looking up when myself and another Canadian (goddamn, that accent!) crashed (aka locals took pity on us as we stood outside blatantly staring at the scene), a celebration of a son briefly visiting home. I had my first taste of John Walker Black (huh?) as they kept spooning 'sauce' into our cups. I left feeling mind boggled and tipsy as it was revealed that we were actually rubbing shoulders with high powered politicians (we didn't seem to notice the security guards and ritzy cars as we entered the event) as we toasted one another, and everyone, and then danced with their wives.

So, despite my current lack of identity and the waves of frustration and fear that comes with it, when I sat across the woman representing the Canadian Embassy, which reminded me eerily of sitting on plastic chairs in a high-school hallway with plexi-glass between us and AirCon freezing me out, I pleaded with her, asking her multiple times to please help me get a passport that will let me keep going until February 14th, please don't make me go back to Canada. I need just a bit more time to soak up a few more memories and let me love the life a lead. It's those things that make me feel alive, that's what I came for.



Kindly,

Kirstin

Sun all the time makes for a desert

Monday, January 9, 2017

Where was Canada?

I now have a better understanding of how horrible humans are capable of being to one another, and how disposable a life can easily become, through both learning about and seeing firsthand the effects the Cambodian Genocide had on its people. 

In 1975, for almost 4 years, three million Cambodians (more than one in every four people) were slaughtered. For 3 years, 8 months and 20 days, Cambodians killed Cambodians. 


The people of Cambodia, known as the Khmer culture were seeking a revolution.  They were weak from being pounded by American bombs that came over the border as a direct and intentional result of the Vietnam War. As the auto tour explains, for Khmer People, America's Secret War, was anything secret as farmers were forced to escaped into the city seeking refuge from the War that leached across the boarder. Shortly after the Vietnam War, the Khmer Rouge entered into Cambodia. and rather then a revolution to strengthen and develop the country, the Khmer lost 3 million of their population of 9 million.


The Khmer Rouge regime overthrew the military dictatorship of Cambodia, with the desire to create a new Cambodia with communist rule. Within 48 hours of ruling, churches, schools and hospitals were closed and destroyed and all people within the city were taken to villages. The Khmer Rouge was headed by a secret committee called Angkor - directly translates into The Organization.  The leader, who was Pol Pot, believed that Cambodia needed self-sufficiency through communal workings and had each person put into forced labour camps, often working in rice field or digging trenches up to 14 hours days. Anyone who was educated or foreign, or with 'soft hands' were first sent to the prison, S-21 to get a forced confession fallowed by formal executions. Khmer Rouge recruited young, uneducated and easily manipulated boys to work the in the S-21 as well as the Killing Fields.

Tuor Sleng better known as S-21, was a high school turned into a prison which was used to secretly perform acts of torture in order to get written confessions from the people of Cambodia that related to anything from as a spy for Angkar's enemy to other various and often petty crimes. Approximate 15-20,000 people were brought to S-21, after which, once they admitted their failures they were then taken to Choeung Ek, Phnom Phenh's Killing Fields where they were executed.  Each victim was blindfolded and their hands were bound, and at the stark of night, were killed by the blunt force of a solid object, be it machete or hammer. The bodies where thrown into a mass grave and covered.


For me, one of the most distraught parts of the genocide is how standardized, regulated and systematic it was. Rules were created so that the purpose of torture was to get the information and not be conducted out of frustration. From confessions to executions, everything was documented.  Relations to those deemed enemies (including women as children) were also killed, because no roots can be left to seek revenge. Essentially, any educated person or free thinking individual was sentenced to death. Pol Pot only wanted those people who would be easily manipulated into being part of the newer, better country.  The killing seemed very unperson; Lives were taken without emotion, it was simply small part of a larger process.  

On January 7, 1979 Khmer Rouge was finally defeated. However, western governments still voted for the Khmer Rouge to represent Cambodia and retained its seat within the United Nation.  Pol Pot was taken in as a refugee for 10 years, until he was finally put under house arrest but died the following year, reasons unknown. Personally, he probably died peacefully in his sleep in his late 70s. 

My question is, where the hell was Canada during all of this?


Well, according to the Canadian International Website, "Canada has been a contributor to the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC), also known as the Khmer Rouge Tribunals. Canada provided initial funding of $2 million in 2005 and an additional funding contribution of approximately $900,000 in 2009 to the international side of the court." Pretty sure with a county as large and financial stable as ours, that dollar value is peanuts. And apparently between 1975-'94 we've had 130,000 Cambodian refugees comes to Canada.  21,000 are of private sponsorship. 130,000 is a insignificant  percentage of Cambodia's population 8 million. So, really, is that it, couldn't we have done more? Shouldn't we have?

Although we were not named as one of the countries to support Khmer Rouge to keep its seat with the UN, isn't saying nothing the exact same as supporting a decision?

Touring the Killing Fields and S-21 was time I've experienced history firsthand  rather than simply reading it in History 12 textbook. This was my first taste to know what human beings  are capable of doing to each other and it's been incredibly real and so very terrible. It makes me question the greediness of human kind and the length we will go to become ultimately win in life.

As was said during both tours, this isn't the first time a genocide has taken place, with the Jewish genocide in Germany and the Aboriginal genocide in North America, as well as several others, and we can be certain that this isn't going to be the last. 


Ultimately, I'm unsure of what to do with this blinding and terribly real experience, but I know it has impacted me significantly. I know that I can no longer afford to bury my head in the sand and pretend that if it isn't directly impacting me, then it isn't my problem, because ultimately, everything full circles in the end and aren't we, as humans, so much better than this?

They say this is why Cambodia is set back to such a degree economically and their systems are so shaky and corrupt. After going through S-21 and the Killing Fields I understand that being Canadian simply categorizes me as an American. So, can I really blame them when, while on my way to the Airport, my Osprey backpack which is within a arms reach, gets quickly snatched up? I watch as my bright blue backpack containing all that's essential and important to me: money, cell phone, credit card, camera, Passport, is driven away on a motorbike. For everything we've done to them, for everything these people have been through, can I really be angry at the people of Cambodia?

Kirstin

A lot of life is just surviving what happens


Sunday, January 1, 2017

The active goals of '17


I’m afraid I’m quite behind on my blog. Sorry, not sorry. I thought I’d skip ahead to a post for a New Year and backtrack when I feel fit, or perhaps find a guest blogger.

So, I’ve just had some beverages with some lovely girls, one from my past Peruvian Adventure and another  new found friend who I have met during my Asian Experience. The three of us sat on some stone steps listening to a cover while having a detailed, intimate and all too personal conversation about where 2017 is headed and what this means for our generation.

For me, 2017 means not only having an open discussion about important, personal, complicated and very much uncomfortable topics that we dare not speak of, but acting on those messy discussions by actually doing something about them. An ex once told me that I shouldn’t ever go to my boss (or whomever, really) with a complaint, but bring up the issue and provide a solution to that problem, and I think that’s what I need to start doing in my life. Mostly I just feel like all I do is bitch. I can see myself twenty years down the road sipping wine coolers and ranting to my nieces (my fleet of feminists, really) about the most recent worldly problem and huffily explain that we used to have hero's and humanitarians' who once upon a time provided solutions and helped solve these problems.

Earlier this trip I had met the lovely Heather, a Canadian, who, in her own words (okay, I’m paraphrasing) said that her life was changed when she went from essentially ranting and bitching about feminist issues while dabbling with substance abuse, to actually doing something about those issues: she now lives in Thailand half her life and is now the CEO to a non-profit organization that provides support to North American’s who ended up in the Bangkok Prison system (a blog on this soon).

I’m sure that within the next twelve months, I’ll encounter difficulties of over stressing and balancing my work-life, including my never ending debacle of finding a job with financial stability vs. finding a job that I’m passionate about, and how the hell I roll that into one; I also guarantee you that I’ll struggle and over analyze my personal life, given how I seem to enjoy taking the Long Way ‘Round. This means that rather than finding a Nice Boy I’ve managed to somehow put the theory to an end and rather than resigning myself to being the dog lady who lived on the Bearhead Rd, I've instead given the intercontinental romance (we always new you’d chance a boy across the world, said my sister) and fully embrace the possibility that sometimes insane is just what I need.

So, yes, I’ll still focus on the small stuff: completing a full marathon, playing Sex and the City in NYC come November with my two dearest Nurse Friends, saving money for yet another trip in fourteen months (India, Indonesia and Nepal), volunteering at a BC Ops Clinic and really figuring out this Provincially Funding Birth Control debacle, actually becoming a Grass Fed Girl and perhaps even buying new set of Cross Country Skis; however, the bigger picture is less talk and more action, because as one of my new found travel friends bluntly explained, while listening to covers of the Red Hots’ and Radiohead and sipping Singha, no one is going to save our generation, it’s going to have to be us to get our shit together and saving ourselves.

Ultimately, I guess what I’m really saying is that, with our current situation on political oopsies (thanks America), which is bringing up a boatload of issues from worldwide topics becoming local strains to racism, hate-crimes and sexism becoming as bold as ever, to the Canadian economy remaining ever sporadic (oil ‘n gas, softwood lumber agreement), to my own issues on what city/province/country I’ll end up in, it’s going to be a whirlwind of bumps and bruises and one hell of a ride. But I’m not going to sit back and simply complain about it. I want to make a list and find some solutions on both a small, personal perspective as well as a larger scale. It's going to be a fabulous year, but it's also going to be hard.

Cheers,

Kirstin

If you know you can do better, then do better.