Standing in line in South Korea I struck up a conversation with a fellow traveler. His passport told me that he was an American but his eyes told me that he was, like me, on the last leg of a very long journey. At that point on the trip conversation is one of the best ways just to stay awake so I jumped in. I asked if he was heading to Cambodia on business and he said that he was. His business, as it turns out, involves working with the government to reclaim land that is still filled with unexploded anti-personel and anti-tank mines. Imagine having that job! I remember years ago, on my first trip to Kosova, watching men with metal detectors (and not nearly enough protective gear!) demining the area around the airport! And you thought your job was bad! Then, this morning, I noticed that the lead article on the front page of the The Cambodia Daily was “Anti-Tank Mine Deaths Increase With Development”. The article detailed the deaths of six people just a few days ago. Two “mine moments” so close together led me to do a bit of research. I discovered that since 1979 over 16,000 people have lost their lives in incidents directly related to landmines. Another 40,000 people have had one or more limbs amputated. Few countries in the world share a similar statistic. Cambodia is still one of the most heavily mined countries in the world with legitimate estimates ranging between 4-6 million unexploded mines. The government currently spends $30 million a year just in demining activities and it is project at this level it will still take nearly two decades to clear the remaining mines.

The following are excerpts from Dr. Wade Roberts book entitled Landmines in Cambodia: Past, Present, and Future.  Published by Cambria Press (June 2011).  A Kindle version is now available.  I share them because they articulate another reason why CGI is involved in empowering the poor.

“Cambodia is a land of contrast: astonishing temples and deficient aqueducts, elegant dance and pervasive disease, grandeur and genocide, plenty and poverty, landmarks and landmines. Every village has a story, every family a trial. Life is fragile and death is commonplace. Religious and cultural institutions give cognitive pacification when crops failures occur or new mothers die during child birth. The traditions here are strong and people have discovered ways to endure. While most survive, the majority do so in chronic and pervasive poverty. Economic need is profuse. My eyes are continually opened to the consequences of destitution. My heart hurts. How was I so lucky? If the situation were reversed would anyone be willing to come to my aid? It would be so easy to turn away. Perhaps with time I would forget these feelings of responsibility.

“Sarun Sot was standing in an open field outfitted with a worn sack dangling from his shoulder. On his other shoulder he had positioned a strap which was connected to the metal shaft of a metal detector. The strap helped to hold the weight of the device as he motioned it left and right in concentrically expanding semi-circle patterns. Alone, he was searching for metal. Sarun was 12 years old. His family relied on the income that he acquired selling the snippets and oddments of metal he unearthed. He would tote his daily find to his uncle’s home – less than a kilometer away from where he lived. After being paid the going rate for the weight of metal he had uncovered, he quickly instituted the return leg of his journey towards his home with cash in hand. A portion of his earnings were given to pay rent on the metal detector. The remainder was handed over to his father. Sarun was to continue this process the following day, and the next, and the next. No long-term escape plan was in place.”

“Situations of poverty and economic need often induced risky behavior involving explosive remnants of war. Most often this interaction was intentional in an effort to temporarily ameliorate the sting of poverty. It was the plight of so many like Sarun that motivated my research. Sarun died July 14th, 2008.”

She is 16. At least that is what she says.  I suspect no one really knows for sure.  Her birthday has never been celebrated.  Not even one time.  She used to go to school but that was a long time ago.  She completed the second grade but then her father left and there was no more money for school.  She started working full time when she was 9.  She didn’t sleep well last night.  She sleeps on a thin mat on a wood floor under a net.  The net kept some of the mosquitos away last night but not all.  Mosquitos, and the gifts of sickness that they bring, are simply part of life when you live near the river but she doesn’t want to get sick again.  She got up on her own.  Her mother has been too sick to do much work in recent months.  It may be her heart.  It may be something worse.  But she doesn’t know for certain because her mother has never been to a doctor.  It is 6:00 a.m.  A little rice is all there is for breakfast but at least there is something today.  She looks at the bicycle.  It really isn’t much but it does help her do her work.  She wishes that it was hers and that she didn’t have to rent it.  The fifty cents a day rent for her is significant.

It’s time to go.  She knows that if she doesn’t hurry all the good stuff will be gone.  She takes her hat and a small bottle of water.  A girl, a bike, a hat, some water – the work day begins.  She heads to an area away from town.  Today she will cover several miles.  She is looking for cans.  Cans are always good.  They are light and easy to work with.  But bottles are good too.  They are just heavier and when they are broken they can cut through the bags or worse yet – her hands.  But today was difficult.  After almost 10 hours of searching all she had collected was a few pieces of cardboard and less than half of one bag full of cans. The buyer didn’t seem too interested in what she had.  He weighed it and then decided to pay 4,000 riel.  She thought it should have been more but what could she do.  4,000 riel is only $1 and that is a far cry less than her highest day.  Once she actually made $3.  Once.  Today, after paying the rent on the bicycle, there will only be fifty cents left.  That won’t buy much for dinner.  Not for three.

Tonight she is too tired to spend time with any friends.  Since there is no electricity at the house she won’t watch television or listen to the radio.  Since there is no water she won’t even get to take a bath.  But at 8:00 she will decide to call it a day and then plan to do it all again tomorrow.

But Monday is coming!

The story above is true.  It is the story of one of the girls chosen to be a part of the new class of culinary training center students.  Please pray for these girls as they embark upon a new journey.  And pray for CGI as we begin not only working with them but also with their families!