The Burden

by Naree Chan

I am guilty. I am guilty of taking time from Cambodian women, health care workers, program managers, NGO workers, and many others to ask them never ending questions. Now that I am writing a thesis, I am now possibly guilty of excluding the very voices I traveled so far to include in my research. I am guilty because I received money to a faraway place not to donate money but spend money — money for gas, phone cards, and drivers — all to simply witness poverty in the rural countryside. Yes, I was able to observe the corruption rampant in the public health system and to discover if my parents’ aversion to preventive care originated in this Cambodia, but at what cost? The money I spent to further pollute the environment and could have been spent to feed the people I met.

So when I saw a young pregnant woman with a foot swollen with infection, what was I supposed to do? She could not afford the $2 moto to the nearest health center. Should I give her money, a ride, or some other type of assistance? But my academic voice and training came through and asked, “How are my actions setting a precedent for future researchers? Would the locals simply think I was taking and not giving? After me, would they always expect outsiders to help?” Yet simultaneously, I wanted to partially absolve my guilt by driving her to the nearest clinic and paying the medical fees. So that’s what I did.

But the guilt did not go away. Instead, I watched as the health care workers in the small clinic clean and bandage her foot, asked her to return within two weeks for another cleaning, and gave her antibiotics to help the healing. She informed us she had gone to a private clinic and spent money on treatment, but she continued to work in the rice fields so she could provide for her four other children at home. How could we ask her to come back in two weeks when her situation required her to work even while seven months pregnant? It took us almost half an hour to drive from her village to the health clinic in a sturdy four wheel drive vehicle. It would probably take almost as long, if not longer, on a moto, but she would have to deal with the rough terrain and driving conditions in her condition.

Cambodia is not a country lacking assistance. Everyone wants to help, just look at the hundreds of NGOs from various countries welcomed by the government. It’s a country with the potential for economical, political, and social change, and there are tons of outside organizations purportedly there to help Cambodians rise out of its developing world status. But when I see non-Cambodians riding in SUVs and dining along the Mekong riverside in Phnom Penh, I seriously wonder if these outsiders are effectively helping the country or simply enjoying a lavish lifestyle on a western salary in a poor country. How is it that the Cambodian government embraces NGOs and appears to cooperate with international assistance but continues to be corrupt – delaying government salaries for up to half a year. Yes, the impossible will take a little while, but with this much assistance pouring into such a small country, how much longer will it take?

Reflection
I still do not feel like “The Burden” is an op-ed. It is more like my reflections on my experiences doing field research in a country that is undeveloped yet contains my heritage. If it is classified as an op-ed, I would say it reflects my poor opinion of the Cambodian government and expresses my skepticism of the altruism behind NGO workers and international development. Though I may distrust these foreigners, should I simply be grateful for their presence and attempts to make change in “my” country?

My background as a public policy major makes me realize that foreign aid is difficult to measure and observe, especially since it is heavily dependent on institutional environments that are difficult to control. In many ways, the success of a private corporation that develops a product or offers a service is much easier to implement, manage, and improve because it exists independently from other agencies. Distributing basic health care services like immunizations, however, is a logistical nightmare that depends not only on money for supplies and training but also on successful implementation in a country with few roads, unreliable electricity, and corrupt officials.