We don't believe an individual should be on its own

One of the things I’ve always appreciated about visiting or living in other countries is the strong sense of community that is preserved in those cultures and the time that people always have to share, to listen, and to spend with friends and loved ones. Americans spend most of our hours working to pay bills, mortgages, loans, and mounting credit card debt. Some of us work two jobs to make ends meet. During the times when we are not working, we spend this time decompressing, watching television, eating, or shopping, but always consuming and buying things. We rarely have time to spend time or have a committed conversation with our families and friends.

I wonder how the people of Cambodia, with strong community and family ties, will cope with the transition to an industrialized and global economy. Extreme poverty and the quest for economic opportunity have already pushed massive internal migration from the provinces to urban centers and external migration to neighboring countries like Thailand and Malaysia. Entire villages throughout the country have been emptied of young women seeking employment in garment factories, restaurants, massage parlors, and karaoke bars in the cities. In the city itself, people are working harder and longer hours to make ends meet, to pay for increases in rent, electricity, food prices, and fuel - inevitable vestiges of economic prosperity.

As Cambodia races towards development, it seems like the only growth apparent are the external ones – skyscrapers, shopping malls, cellphone shops, large SUVs, expensive villas – while the growth of the mind, the spirit, the heart, and the community, is ignored. Economic opportunity for the very few are favored over education and social services for all. As individuals scramble for the top, there is an inevitable crash to the bottom for the majority of the population, barely struggling to survive. Most of these individuals are already recognized as marginalized – women, children, the elderly, and indigenous and minority populations.

Cambodia is not unique. The same phenomenon is being felt all over the world - from China to India, Mozambique to Jordan, Iraq, Brazil, Mexico and the United States. We are all waiting for the benefits of global economic prosperity.

In Fugitive Denim, by Rachel Louise Snyder, the story of denim and the borderless world of global trade, the author travels to Azerbaijan, of the former Soviet Union. Azerbaijan has a 2,000 miles oil pipeline, the world’s longest, extending from Baku all the way through Georgia and Turkey. The country claims oil and cotton as its major exports. Despite this, a third of the country’s population lives below the poverty line and the country is ranked as one of the most corrupt in the world. In the book the author meets with one of the cotton kings of Azerbaijan, who laments the current state of affairs: “We don’t believe an individual should be on its own; now we have only ourselves and our homes, but no community. Rich countries have human rights problems, too. People are trampled. We have riches, but no human rights. We are not part of anything bigger now.”

In our quest for economic development, perhaps we have forgotten about other kinds of development – communal, social, and spiritual - that bring meaning to our daily lives and existence.

Next week, as we travel to the Northeastern provinces of Cambodia – Stung Treng, Ratanakiri, and Mondolkiri – we will meet with the indigenous people who have lived their lives in deep connection with both water and land and the natural environment. With the onslaught of development in the area, they are faced with the threat of dissolution of their cultures, traditions, language, and livelihood. Will they welcome this change or will they fight to preserve what is still left?