Aug. 20, 2003
The word came through this morning while we anchored at Stonington Harbor, at the easterly end of Connecticut. I have just been offered – and have accepted – the position of Director of the Independent Journalism Foundation’s office in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. This is an journalism teaching operation, serving people in Myan Mar, Laos, Vietnam as well as Cambodia. Very exciting new adventures await.
We were contacted about this position before we left Burlington, in the winter. It has been a long, slow slog and I guess I’m honored to have made the final cut.
Jo and I will put the boat into hibernation in the next two or three weeks. Then we’ll prepare for the necessary shots, visas, and other paperwork before setting off for Asia. I’m told we’ll have a house provided, with a cook and a driver who speaks some English (la-di-da!) The office is in the embryonic stages, which is to say there are three-month courses being held right now, but there is very little leadership. As a result, my job will be analyze the needs, find the resources and make journalism education happen. This is a bit of a tall order in a Communist-led nation. But there seems to be a relaxation of restrictions and, besides, baby steps still will be steps.
Current plans call for Jo and me (and I hope the cat) to head for Bangkok, then hop, skip and jump over to Phnom Penh at the end of September. So sailing south to the Bahamas is on the shelf for the coming year.
I have committed to a year’s contract with the option to extend it for a second year.
Hey, life is an adventure whether it be on the open sea on in the steaming streets of Cambodia’s capital.
I was there in 1989 when a group of news people visited Vietnam and Cambodia. I remember the place with some trepidation. There were many young boys (10 and 12 year olds) wandering the streets of the capital back then with Russian AK-47s slung over their shoulders. On the sidewalks were huge posters in the Khmer language that demonized the USA for causing all their troubles. It was the only place I’ve ever been where I actually felt unsafe. That, I’m happy to report, was then. Life is more calm and untroubled today. But Cambodia still is a killing field when it comes to the mines left over from our dirty little war there. Not a day goes by without some child, man or woman having part of their body being blown away by one of these treacherous mementoes.
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