First entry

Here I am. Living in Phnom Penh. I am in the country that I have dreamed of for years, on the other side of the world from everybody I know. My fiancé, my family and my beloved friends are 5 time zones away. I am living in what you might call a little suburb of Phom Penh, about an hour on my bicycle away from the expat filled city centre, from the bars, the western restaurants and tourist attractions. I live near a market where a sweet old lady makes baguettes above a coal stove, a subtle reminder of the French colonization period. She sits on a stool across from a stall where two gossiping girls sell mysterious looking fruits. I have learned that some of their names are rambutan, dragon fruit, durian, jackfruit, kapok and custard apple. But they also sell the well-known apples, bananas and oranges. On every corner there are men with motos or tuktuks asking me if I need a ride. Everywhere I look on the market, there are things that I don’t understand. Living chicken are waiting to be skinned and eaten, men and women with carts are yelling words that I do not know, to promote foods that I do not know. There are carts with clams and cockles, carts with insects, carts with raw meat where the vendors are waving plastic bags on sticks to keep the flies away. I have walked across that marked every morning and every evening since I have been in Phnom Penh, but still I see new things everywhere I look. At the same time, I start to recognize familiar things and familiar faces. People who I have seen before are greeting me with a welcoming smile. But really, every stranger that I greet and smile to gives me a kind smile back.

I am living in a nice apartment above an internet café where I can use their water filter whenever I get thirsty. In my place there is no hot water, no refrigerator, no stove, no air conditioning and no shortage of little ants. But still, I live in a rather luxurious place. On my short bike ride to my work, I pass day laborers who sleep in improvised tents at night and build a new house during the day. I pass big building materials on which little children play who live in the containers hidden behind it. I pass poverty, inequality and suffering on my way to the cool office where I am supposed to work on human rights.

I feel very lucky with my life here. The kindness of the people that I have met is overwhelming. I was afraid of being much on my own here, but the people here have invited me with open arms. I am so grateful for that. I love my apartment and I love my job even more. My boss is one of the many inspirational people I have met here. His love for his country deeply impresses me. He and his brother lived for years in America where they had well-paying jobs, but they chose to come back to Cambodia to help their country. And they work tirelessly to improve the lives of the poor. The amount of energy and motivation that professor Sovachana has, helps me tremendously in my work. He is a true inspiration. It helps me to look at my place in the world and in this country and to ask myself what I am going to do to be a force for good. What can I do to help Cambodia? It is a difficult question. Me, as a foreign student who hardly speaks Khmer and who is only staying for 6 months. What can I do to have a positive impact? I will let you know the answer to that questioin when I am back in Vienna.

For now, I am preparing my fieldwork to Mondulkiri, one of the poorest areas in Cambodia. The majority in this province is comprised of indigenous people, whose livelihoods are seriously threatened due to land grabbing, the destruction of the forests they live in, corruption and discrimination. Next week, I will start my preliminary research focussed on land security. I hope these people are willing to talk to me and that I can discover what I can do to help them.

I am looking forward to my first real fieldwork experience. After 4 years of studying anthropology, I am finally in this place that resembles stereotypical *geitenwollensokken* anthropology: doing fieldwork in the middle of nowhere, in small communities with people who speak a language that is alien to me, in a remote area with little luxuries and a bad infrastructure.

Who knows how much Cambodia will change me, and how much I can manage to change Cambodia?