Charlie Dittmeier's Home Page
A much-publicized initiative of the Cambodian government a couple years ago was to start what they call “one window service,” that is, being able to accomplish one of the many bureaucratic tasks the citizens endure in one trip to one window rather than being shunted from office to office for one or many days.
This woman embraces the same principle in getting her coffee in front of the one window office: she doesn’t even need to get off her motorcycle
Isolation is one of the most debilitating characteristics of deafness. Because deaf people often don’t share a common language with society, they can be ignored or shunted out of the mainstream of information and personal contact. That makes the visit of the Korean deaf group significant, just at a superficial level.
But another positive result of the visit is the opening of the eyes and minds of our deaf students to possibilities that are common in developed countries like Korea but are unheard of for deaf people in Cambodia. It is so important for them to gain a new vision and be challenged by a dream of who they can become.
That new vision can be a reassuring one, too. Over the years I have talked with deaf teenagers and have had them relate a fear and a question about when they will die–not at an old age but as they approach young adulthood. Too often deaf children never have the opportunity to meet and be around deaf adults. They literally never see them and some of the youth interpret that to mean they will die before they get old. Having a Korean deaf group with confident, mature, capable deaf adults–some with gray hair–come to DDP lets deaf youth know there is life after their teens.
Yesterday 25 deaf people from a church in Busan, Korea came to visit DDP. It turned out to be a really affirming event for our visitors and for our students and staff.
These monks making their begging rounds in Phnom Penh may be wearing outfits in a style that hasn’t changed for the last 2,500 years but they have their iced coffee and bubble teas!
Today was the fourth observance of Grandparents Day that was started by Pope Francis.
As part of the observance, I asked all the grandparents at the Saturday evening mass to put up their hands. Three people did so. If I were in the United States probably 2/3 of the congregation would put up their hands but we have an unusual demographic here.
Our congregation is made up of young adults in their 20s, 30s, and 40s. They have come here to work and earn money to support their families back in their home countries. Their younger siblings–even often their own children–are in their home country and it’s the grandparents taking care of them. Our congregation are here to send money back for them.
It’s 6:05 AM and these women are closing up their shop in a wholesale market. They start selling about 4:00 AM and by 6:00 AM they have supplied restaurants, stores, and smaller markets and it’s time to pack up and go home.
I had an unusual experience today when I rode a tuk-tuk home from a meeting. There was a young woman driving. I always assumed there were some women drivers–in a predominantly man’s job–but this was the first time I’ve seen one. The trip was unusual also because although the most efficient route is shown on the phone app in front of the driver, two times she deliberately went WAY out of her way and did not follow the map. The cost of the trip is set by the app before the trip starts so her going farther than necessary costs her money.
Here is a typical phone shop in Phnom Penh. There are thousands of them, often three or four on one block.
it’s rather difficult getting around the streets near my house these days. Phnom Penh is known for flooding–especially because the government tycoons keep filling in the water catchment areas to sell to their friends–so new sewers are a necessity, but when a busy street–the size of an alley in the U.S.–is torn up, I and the fruit seller and the school girl all have to find an alternative route.
