“Dutch painter brings Khmer Rouge victims to life”

Many of you are aware of my trip last July to Asia (Jezzasia!). I went with my dad (regular-reader “The Old Fart”) and a pastor on a missions trip to help find and rescue Montagnards who are hiding in the countries surrounding Vietnam.

And you probably know that I’m a Dutchman. My family name is Witteveen, which just so happens to be Dutch, and my dad is first-generation Hollander. That’s the only reason regular-reader Petursey likes me.

Anyway, pops sent me this article that I wanted to pass on about a Dutch painter who is working with the photos of Cambodian prisoners who were killed under Pol Pot’s regime. I think it’s important to forward this information, because I’m surprised at how many people aren’t aware of this great genocide that happened within that last 30 to 40 years.

Check the article here.

Thanks Old Fart!

Worry no more

I know how worried some of you were about my safety. I landed last night in Chicago, and have spent all my time holding onto Tina as if she were full of helium and would float away if I let go.

My first order of business after showering and loving on Tina was to go to Whole Paycheck and buy two of the best dry-aged ribeye steaks they had on display. I grilled them with some potatoes. Damn, that hit the spot.

We watched TV for a little while and then I crashed.

My kneejerk quick responses about the trip as a whole:

• In case you didn’t notice, I was happily using “Jezzasia” and “Cambo First Mud” to tag my trip entries. Congrats to Petursey and Glock for helping with those.
• I’m extremely glad I went on this trip. Hospital stay and all, it was a great adventure. I was able to hang out with my dad for 2 weeks. And even with a few conversations about politics and religious philosophies, we were able to bond and make memories not to be forgotten.
• It felt good to be able to tell foreigners that I’m not a Christian. I was asked a few times.
• It was also cool to meet people not infiltrated by the Yeshua Fog. In fact, my dad made a comment one day, “There’s a Buddhist Temple on every block.” My response, “Some say the same thing about the Christian church.” He said, “Really?”
• When Jimmy started preaching, he was often ignored. People simply weren’t interested. They were in their land surrounded by their religious ideologies. They had no use for Jesus and they made that clear.  There was one Christian who ended up hurting Jimmy. He stole some money from Jimmy after they had begun to trust each other. I’ll tell that story soon.
• Do not, I repeat DO NOT, fly UNITED AIRLINES internationally if you can help it. Holy shit. They are the most unfriendly bunch of people on an international flight. They pluck the ugliest, dumbest lot of flight attendants possible and stuff them all in packed planes and make sure you are as miserable as they are for 14 hours. When possible, choose another airline. United International sucks.
• Cambodia offered the worst smells and worst food I’ve ever experienced on Earth. There’s a reason you don’t get a craving to order out Khmer. Unless you’re from there, it’s AWFUL.
• If you’re going to get an acute gastric infection in Asia, do it in Thailand. If you get one in Cambodia, you may get an unwanted, first-hand look at the Killing Fields.
• Finally, I’ll be able to start sentences all hoity toity like, “When I was in Cambodia …” or “When I was in Thailand …”

I’ll be updating more on my trip. Today I have to catch up on some work. Tomorrow Tina and I leave for Asheville, NC to shoot regular reader Xina’s wedding. She’s so excited I could feel it from goddamn Cambodia. I got an email that she’s update her email address with her new last name and everything. I’m so excited to shoot her big day. Like everyone, she deserves great happiness and her future husband is someone I am certainly glad she’s ending up with. Yay!

After Asheville, my brother is going to drive and pick us up to take us back to High Point, NC where we’ll stay for 3 days before returning to Chicago. Tina and I will be staying at the Witteveen compound and we hope to squeeze my two nieces’ cheeks as much as possible. My dad gets back from Asia on Tuesday morning. And we leave again on Wednesday evening. (You writing this down, SAW?).

Anybody else got any vacation plans coming up? I’m looking forward to hearing more of Biodork’s trip to Italy.

FWAAI! Teal ninja in pink flip flops

I kinda wanted to write, “Tear ninja in pink frip frops!”

Outsider’s perspective

Today has been great. We met with a local woman named Mane (pronounced “Mah-neigh”). Someone gave Jimmy her contact information in the states.

Jimmy gave us the impression she was a Montagnard and would be sympathetic to our cause. She would be able to help us to find local Montagards in Phnom Pehn, and help orchestrate necessary meetings with local officials.

This is not the case.

It’s true. This woman is willing to help us. But she has no contacts at the U.N. nor does she have an idea where the Montagnard refugee camp is located.

But, Mane speaks great English. She speaks Vietnamese and Cambodian. And we learned today that people are “sensitive” to the word “Montagnard” and that it shouldn’t be used. “Indigenous” is a better option.

I think Jimmy’s tail went between his legs.

We know there are 72 “Indigenous” Vietnamese living here in a camp after Pieter talked directly to the U.S. Embassy in Bangkok. That’s literally all they know.

Today is Sunday and businesses shut down in Asia too, so we went sightseeing. Mane went with us so that she could drive us past the U.N. buildings where we might be able to talk to the officials. She also did a little research and we tried to drive past the camp. No luck. We had to do quite a bit of driving around. There was definitely time to chat.

Jimmy’s a preacher. He preaches almost incessantly. I don’t believe there is any use antagonizing him or responding to him. It seems that even my dad tends to tone him out at times.

There we were in a cab driving with my dad in the front seat. Jimmy, Mane and I were in the back. Jimmy asks Mane if she was a Christian. She said, no, she’s involved in a sort of ancestor worship common among many of the indigenous people from where she originated.

You could practically hear the chainsaw start in Jimmy’s mind.

Jimmy starts preaching a mile a minute. And I don’t mean just talking about god and Jesus. This was a full-fledged, scripture-and-verse, reading-from-a-script, you-listen-and-don’t-respond preaching.

After listening to Jimmy ramble for a while, Mane politely said, “That’s not what I believe.”

That didn’t matter. Jimmy’s was on a roll.

He was saying things like, “Without God sending his son Jesus, I have nothing. I am a sinner. He came for you and me. That way we can go to heaven or else the result is hell.” Or he’d say, “I am a sinner, and I need God to forgive me. He is my savior. Without him I can not be here right now doing what I’m going.”

Mind you, Jimmy speaks with a thick accent and his English is often missing articles, consonants, prepositions, etc. He’s not easy to understand.

Mane finally started laughing. She said, “Excuse me for laughing, but it sounds like you cannot do anything on your own.”

I’m not sure the criticism was understood. Jimmy was on a steam roller with a big-ass engine and he’s going to deliver his message hell or high water. He said, “I can’t! I need Jesus!”

To Jimmy, delivering this message is love. He’s trying to save someone so it doesn’t matter what their beliefs are. He won’t slow down long enough to listen to another’s perspective. Or, people are afraid to talk about another kind of belief system or lack of beliefs all together so they avoid it all together. I find this behavior common. I find it disrespectful.

Here I was hoping desperately that I could get a question or two in so I could understand what Mane believes. Finally after Jimmy talked about the animal sacrifices that indigenous Vietnamese still do (shock), and that the only blood sacrifice necessary now is Jesus, god’s son dying on the cross … Mane talked about her views.

She said that the traditions of her beliefs are distinctive to her culture. It binds her with her past to bring them into the future. When she and her friends and family practice old rituals, she explained it’s to create a bond, a solidarity and a future. If the past is lost, she thinks they will lose their identity as a tribe. For that reason, she acts as an organizer for her beliefs and even holds a youth group of sorts. They teach the upcoming children. She said to Jimmy, “That is why I wrote the bylaws of our organization to not include Christians. They are not welcome in our group. I’m sorry to discriminate.”

Mane, what a breath of fresh air. I needed her words today badly. I don’t know if they did any good for anyone but me.

Phnom Pehn stinks. I mean, nausea-inducing gaggy puke stink. Tell you what, next time you have leftover Chinese, dump 10 cups of soy sauce on it and bring it home. Put that in a large pot … a caldron even. Boil it up with some old socks, toe nails, mold. Oh, and take a crap in there too. Drop in tuna carcass, too. That’ll help. After you boil it, let it cool. Stretch some saran wrap over the mouth of the caldron.

Let that bitch sit in the summer sun for five weeks. Then drag it inside and let it sit in a dark closet for another six weeks.

Lift the saran wrap and take a whiff. It may smell 10% like the goddamn stink I keep walking into.

If the devil existed, and the devil farted, it would smell like Cambodia.

In the hospital

If we’re not friends on facebook, you probably don’t know that I’m in the hospital right now in Bangkok.

I had a rough night last night. Fever and diarrhea.

My dad came in my room this morning, and I said, “There is absolutely no way I’m getting on a plane today for Cambodia.”

He said he’d get a doctor. We ended up in an ambulance, and I was admitted immediately into a hospital. I’ve been on an I.V. drip all day and taking antibiotics.

I should get some sleep, but I wanted to update here, since I’ve been so quiet lately.

The doctor said I have a gastric infection. Jimmy says the devil is trying to get me. I’m pretty sure I’m going with gastric infection. There’s nothing like western medicine to get a man back on his feet again.

I already feel tons better.

I really am having a great time. And despite being in the hospital, I’m in a great mood. I knew I was sick for some time. And it took ruining my sheets this morning to prove to my dad that I needed more than rest.

The hospital is nicer than any of the rooms that we’ve stayed in so far here.

I update the r25 productions blog here. It gives more details of what we were up to before the devil got me.

Honk.

Exhaustion

The first time I traveled to the Philippines, we were going and going and going the first week and my body finally said, “Nah uh. You’re done.” And I was laid up for 24 hours just resting.

The same thing is happening here. We’ve been going and going and going, and my body told me today, you have to stop and rest. I have a fever, and I feel like shit.

I’ve been grumpy on the phone when I call Tina, and she’s been really patient. I should have listened to my body sooner and stayed away from too much working in exchange for rest. The thing is, my dad and Jimmy both go to bed earlier than I’m used to, and I think I can stay up. But then they get up early, and in the mornings I feel hungover and crappy.

We’re on our way back to Bangkok two days early. I welcome it. The hotel in Chiangmai was becoming claustrophobic.

We’re going to check into another missionary guest house that’s closer to the detention center in Bangkok. Jimmy and Pieter want to go back there tomorrow morning. Hopefully I will feel better tomorrow morning. If not, I’m going to go with them to experience it, and then I’m going to go back to bed tomorrow afternoon.

I haven’t even brought up anything anti-religious while I’ve been here. I don’t think so anyway. Believe me, I’ve had a lot of opportunity. Dad and Jimmy bicker over theological matters, and I end up rolling my eyes and letting them gab. Admittedly, my dad will say that if you put four theologians in a room, they won’t agree and leave with four different interpretations.

The closest I got to saying anything was today when my dad was commenting on how everyone seems to do a bow and namaste when they greet you or leave. The Thai are really a beautiful people. They are calm, and those who speak English are very soothing to hear in my native tongue. When I hear women speak in Thai, when you walk up and they greet you, it’s quite possibly some of the nicest moments I’ve had in Thailand.

I keep forgetting to write that they drive on the other side of the road here, and it’s a little disconcerting. Today we were driving back from seeing some elephants and then seeing some of those women who stretch their necks with gold circles (forgive me I’m tired), and the driver we hired was driving through what appeared to be red lights. He seemed unphased by it. It was like flying in a plane and hitting turbulence. The best way for me to calm down is to look up at a flight attendant. If they aren’t phased, I calm down too.

My computer battery is dying. I didn’t get a chance to charge it in our little-ass room in Chiangmai. Our flight leaves soon. I’ll try not to update too much and get some rest.

Oh, here’s some video I took this morning while I was looking for something to ease my upset stomach:

Photos of the Day

The Grand Palace, Bangkok

Yesterday we were going to try to visit some people locked in an immigration prison in Bangkok, but it was closed on Sunday and we were turned away.

When life gives you Thai lemons, you make Thai lemonade; we went sight seeing instead.

No one speaks English here, so communicating that we wanted to sight see was very difficult. But finally, our cabbie took us on a 45 minute ride through the city only to end the ride at the most beautiful area that we’ve seen so far.

It was called the Grand Palace, and more information can be found here. From wiki:

The Grand Palace (Thai: พระบรมมหาราชวัง, Phra Borom Maha Ratcha Wang) is a complex of buildings in Bangkok,Thailand. It served as the official residence of the Kings of Thailand from the 18th century onwards. Construction of the Palace began in 1782, during the reign of King Rama I, when he moved the capital across the river from Thonburito Bangkok. The Palace has been constantly expanded and many additional structures were added over time. The present King of Thailand, King Bhumibol Adulyadej, however, resides at the Chitralada Palace.

Inside the gates, there were several groups of students on a mission to interview foreigners who speak English. They need to practice their language and get it on tape to show their professors.

I was interviewed three times.

Here’s a shot my dad took.

And here’s a shot I took of the fellow interviewing me.

More updates soon.

L’aventure commence

***UPDATE***

I read what I wrote below, and it’s awful. I don’t know where to begin to edit it. Read at your own discretion. I’m still so tired, that I don’t how to tell you to read with caution. Someone else do it.

***End Update***

I’m tired.

I arrived at the guest house where we’re staying. I’ve called Tina. We were able to Skype from my computer to her phone. For some reason, the network here isn’t letting me Skype from phone to phone.

Then — after she got home from being out — we video Skyped computer to computer which is much better than iChat. The picture quality and sound quality are so much better. My brother discovered that when he was in Vietnam. I personally never use video chat, but I tell you, when you’re halfway around the world and the person you love is on video chat, it makes a world of difference.

I was telling Tina how there was definitely a general disregard for etiquette in Abu Dhabi, that almost seemed universal until today. Whenever I’ve traveled, there’s a certain politesse of waiting for the rows in front of you to deplane before you go. And I’ve never been on a flight when someone tried to smoke in the lavatory.

As soon as I got to Abu Dhabi, there were more rude people than I have ever traveled with. For instance, as soon as the guy called for business travelers and priority members to board the plane, the entire crowd barged through the gate. My jaw hit the floor. There was one man who got out of the queue and smoked a cigarette in a non-designated area.

Annnnnnndddd(!) some dumb shit in the bathroom on the plane during the last 20 minutes of the flight. And when he was confronted, he tried to deny it. I could smell it from where I was sitting.

But I made it! I’m in my room now. Settle a little.  I took a shower, where this miniature gecko looking lizard attacked me from behind the faucet. Here’s a picture from my phone:

The shower reminds me of the shower I used for four months in the Philippines. There was always something jumping out at me.

There was one day, a spider was running around the house. It was so big, when it ran through the room, I could hear its eight legs padding across the floor. I am not exaggerating in any way.

The way the city is laid out reminds me a lot of the Philippines too. There’s no real method to the city layout. There are white concrete walls everywhere marking off territory, but you can literally see over the wall into someone’s shanty shack. I’ll take pictures to give you an idea.

There will be lunch served at noon here at this mission guest house, which I’ll go have. I’m hoping my dad’s flight is late so I can snooze this afternoon.

That’s it for now.

Thanks for reading.

Damn, I’m tired.

Another shot of Roxie … sucking the cute out of the ozone

Here’s a shot of Roxie that the rescue people sent us last night.

I’m trying to pack and tie up my loose ends. Zoe’s laying in my suitcase, and Tina’s helping me with laundry.

The good news is that the video I worked on yesterday was approved. I’m going to post it below the fold so you can know what a little more than seven hours of work can get someone … if they are prepared and know what they’re doing.

At the same time, it’s not perfect. There are some awkward cuts, but it’s life doesn’t always happen perfectly, and editing it isn’t always easy.

I’m hoping I have Internet on the plane. If that’s the case, be prepared for LOTS of posts while I’m traveling. Otherwise, watch out for tumbleweeds hitting your kneecaps.