Tucked

via Cher Opal Etsy Store

I've always been a sucker for delicate details, such as pintucks. All this dress needs is a good belt and a pair of cut-out oxfords.

It's Friday afternoon in Phnom Penh, a warm afternoon punctuated by clear blue skies. I'm sitting at my desk, staring at this blue sky through the several layers of obstructions -- the maroon curtain, the small metal blocks comprising the grid across my window, the glass panel, the teal building adjacent to ours, which rises up. Cool season has arrived in Cambodia.

Next week is Water Festival and Sihanouk Ville. And then, more trips. But this weekend, I have nothing planned. No obligatory dinners to attend. No trips. No parties. No meetings. No goodbyes. I like how unshaped and free this weekend feels.

Fleeting

"In every fugitive vision I see worlds, full of the changing play of rainbow hues . . . "

-Russian poet, Konstantin Balmont

Sugar

I heart my colleagues! Too bad this video is only in German.

I realize that foreign lawyers, such as myself, engage in this work with a certain amount of privilege and detachment. No matter how entrenched one can be, the reality is that we can walk away at any time and go back to a legal system that subscribes more to the Western system of logic, to a system of legal precedent that actually dictates, more often than not, predictable results, to impartiality, objectivity. To comfort and order.

But my Khmer colleagues . . . these are their homes, their communities being bulldozed, burned down, dismantled, under force and the auspices of legitimate authority. The rule of law in Cambodia is broken, and to advocate on behalf of your legal rights comes at a risk that I will never comprehend because I'm a foreigner.

So when I see my colleagues speaking up, telling their story to the world (as they are doing in this video), it causes me to ponder the true definition of "courage." And then I snap out of it, pondering instead how they must be acclimating to the biting cold in Germany, to the steep prices of food, to all the Western-everything I sometimes crave!

Info on the sugar industry and land grabbing issue in Cambodia, which is the crux of that video: here.

Mayle Pop-Up, Heart Palpitations

via Metier SF

AHHHH.

I need to dig up my Mayle Fedosia jacket once I'm back in the States.

And that little blue number . . .

Breathe.

Return from Rabbit Island

I'm back from a weekend on rustic Rabbit Island. And it was so vastly different from the rainy, wet, gloomy, boat-nearly-capsizing, salt-water-stinging-my-eye adventure of July. It was wonderful actually. More on that later.

Unrelated: Today, my colleague said to me, "Joc, stay longer. We will miss you. You stab our hearts." (Colleague stabbing the air enthusiastically.)

You stab my heart, too, Cambodia.

P.S. Those are the sand crabs little Jake (my colleague's quite energetic son) took hostage. He told me that he kept them in the jar to keep them safe. I told him that if kept them safe for too long, they could die. At once, with what appeared to be one swift movement, he jumped off the bamboo platform on which he played onto the sand below, racing to the waves ahead, to throw his hostages into the frothy ocean. A few survived.

Anica

via Montmarte's Sketchbook

Montmarte's pictures from her stroll into Anica are making me crave big open spaces filled with beautiful things.

a blur

I blinked and two weeks flew by. It seems like it was yesterday when I Khmer-danced around the ribbon and balloon-adorned room, with colleagues and communities. But I know that was last Wednesday.

It seems like yesterday when I sat in a circle with colleagues at Sotheary's rooftop home, munching on home-cooked Vietnamese food as I watched the fireworks display blast across the city sky. But I know that was last Friday.

It seems like yesterday when I sat with Mark at Java Cafe, discussing the nuances of human rights work in this country, a scene dominated by many strong-willed, passionate players, who often have conflicting personalities and agendas. But I know that was last Monday when I was reminded of how much I still need to learn about working in this country.

It seems like yesterday when I sat with an ADB specialist to discuss my findings, to relay the stories of impoverished communities living hand-to-mouth, of families scavenging for water, of disempowerment. But I know that was Tuesday when I tasted frustration.

Somewhere, sandwiched in between those days, blurring now, is Kampot and sleep and laziness.

Life moves quickly here. I can't remember if it was like this back home.

Also, I can't believe I'm going back to Rabbit Island this weekend. Oh, what I do for friends.