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Bunleang speaking at the Brown Annual Party for staff. Bunleang and his partners (who are all in their late 20s) own Brown Coffee and Bakery, Fox Wine Bar and Gong Cha. With multiple locations across Phnom Penh, these companies combined employ over 600 staff (full and part time). With more plans for expansion in the future, Brown (and company) will create more employment opportunities for young Cambodians. Photo courtesy of Brown Coffee and Bakery ©Brown 2014 Bunleang Chang, Managing Partner & Co-Founder of Brown Coffee and Bakery, was very busy last year. In 2014 Brown recently reached an important milestone, a 10th location in Phnom Penh. The company also added more outlets for Gong Cha and Fox Wine Bistro across Phnom Penh. The popular company is growing fast to meet the demands of an ever growing clientele seeking the perfect mix of ambience, flavor, and comfort in their coffee outing experience. I briefly caught up with Bunleang to see what the company has accomplished in 2014 and what big plans he and his partners have in 2015. I also asked him whom he thought was the person to watch in 2015 and here's what he had to say.
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It has been over a year since I first launched the popular Young Leader Series. Many people continue to be inspired by the younger generation's drive, vision, and determination to help create a better, equitable, and prosperous Cambodia. The road is difficult and long with many bumps, twists and turns, but this generation is tenaciously paving the way for a brighter future for our country. In the lead up to the next group of 2015 Young Leaders, I decided to catch up with last year's group to see what they were up to last year, what goals they have this year, and whom they see are the changemakers in the country. One has moved overseas to work at prestigious international organizations, another expanded their entrepreneurial empire, and one even starred in a film that was screened at the Cannes Film Festival! There is no doubt that they have done some amazing things this year and will continue to reshape, and in their own way, redefine Cambodia. The first person I caught up with is Dyna Heng, who writes from chilly Washington D.C. Group photo of the new inductees of the 2014 IMF Economist Program (EP). Dyna (second from left, front row) was one of the 28 economists (out of the thousands of applicants from around the world) selected in this highly competitive program. This is the first year a Cambodian national was chosen. Photo credit © IMF 2014. CATCHING UP WITH DYNA HENGDyna Heng has had an exciting year. The young economist was recently accepted into the International Monetary Fund's (IMF) highly competitive Economist Program (EP), the first for a Cambodian national. Now working at the IMF Headquarters in Washington D.C., in the Western Hemisphere Region, Dyna is learning about global best practices in economic and fiscal management. He hopes to apply this knowledge and experience to help with his country’s development in the future. Writing from chilly Washington D.C., Dyna shares with me some of the exciting changes in his life in 2014, his goals in the new year, his positive outlook for Cambodia in 2015, and whom he sees as the change makers of the country.
REDEFINE CAMBODIA: A LETTER TO THE NEXT GENERATION
First published in Milk Magazine. Reposted with permission. December 2014, Phnom Penh, Cambodia (Khmer Translation Below) I have always wondered what my life would have been like had we stayed in Cambodia after the war. It is hard to fathom all the struggles my country faced as we tried to get back on our feet; limited water supply, rations of rice, no electricity and no running water. This generation grew up living under the threat of violence from rocket fire, grenade attacks and millions of landmines. You were robbed of being able to learn from the many talented artists, musicians, filmmakers, and intellectuals who came before you. The country started over and the burden fell on the shoulders of your parents’ generation. Many conformed to the mentality of doing whatever it took to survive. You inherited all these remnants of war, and with it, a terrible legacy that defined your parents’ generation, and to many in the outside world, defined our country. Over 30 years have passed since then. Much progress has been made. Much more needs to be done. Yet, in some ways, many still see our country trapped by the shadows of our past. It’s time to redefine Cambodia. Eerie Art Form
There’s something about smot that gives me peace and calm. I close my eyes and at once I am in a trance. For most Khmer people, young and old, smot is an eerie type of traditional music, one that beckons the dead. Just saying the word is enough to give some people the creeps. I did not grow up listening to smot. I only heard of it last year when my parents listened to it constantly as my father’s health was deteriorating. My mother would play the CDs of smot music for my father to comfort him, to comfort both of them. Since then, I have been fascinated by this unique traditional music. Though I have limited understanding of the verses, it’s the sound that captivates me the most. The melodies are melancholic and heavy, unlike most traditional Khmer music, which are upbeat and light. The voices of the smot singers are mature and hauntingly beautiful. "A SOCIETY CANNOT KNOW ITSELF IF IT DOES NOT HAVE AN Restless Spirits
For the recent water festival celebration, I decided to leave Phnom Penh for the beautiful beaches of Sihanoukville. I reluctantly booked a hotel that was rumored to have ghosts. A local once said to me, "don’t ever go there, it is haunted." I thought to myself, of course, I would never stay there. But I did. As we pulled up to the Independence Hotel, (7 story hotel or Ghost Hotel as the locals call it), I was captivated by the beautiful ocean views and pristine modern accommodation. But part of me also felt extremely anxious about the rumors and questioned the sanity of my decision to stay in a haunted place. The hotel was rumored to have been used by the Khmer Rouge as a torture center. New windows, bright curtains, and retro decoration strived to erase its’ dark past. Yet, I was determined to overcome my fear. The more I thought about it, the more I realized this tragic fact. The country is full of ghosts. Full of restless spirits wandering aimlessly without peace, without a final resting place to heal and move on. The sad reality of it is, there is no part of Cambodian land that is without the scourge of the Khmer Rouge brutality. These lost souls still ache for some semblance of justice, still yearn for peace, and still seek a dignified tribute. Over the Pchum Ben holiday last week, I visited Kep, a seaside town about a three hour drive from Phnom Penh. We needed a break from the noise of Phnom Penh and Kep was the perfect reprieve to escape. The lush green landscape, cascading mountains in the background, spectacular sunsets, fresh seafood, and laid back lifestyle was what we needed to break away from the urban jungle. Our time there was short, but it was just enough to remind us the beauty of nature in this resplendent retreat. Slow down, escape the noise and join me on this photo tour to get a taste of tranquility and nature in Kep, Kampot, and Bokor.
White Building, Phnom Penh, 2014. Built in 1963 by Cambodian architect Ly Ban Hap & Russian architect Vladmir Bodiansky, under the leadership of renowned Cambodian architect, Vann Molyvann. Residents of the building are mostly civil servants, artists, and shopkeepers. A historic site, now there are rumors the building will be demolished. See a slideshow of the building at end of the story. All images © Banyanblog 2014. Part I: An Outsider’s Perspective
When I moved to Phnom Penh last year, I never heard of the White Building. We first lived in the Wat Phnom area and eventually settled down in the Chankarmorn district. Then the White Building was right in front of me, evoking a range of thoughts, fluctuating between seeing it as an eye sore, to a curious fascination of what life was like inside. As it became part of my daily line of vision, I often wondered who lived there? From the outside it looked old, dilapidated, and unsafe. In the daytime, it seemed to be surrounded in a swarm of chaos with shopkeepers selling their goods, children running without shoes, friends chatting in makeshift cafes and barbershops, couples fighting, monks gathering alms, and scavengers digging the trash to find bottles or cardboard to recycle. At night it seemed to be shrouded in mystery, evoking images of unpleasant things happening beneath dark stairwells. These images were all crossing my path, moving along to the rhythm of life there. The building served as a backdrop that seemed to symbolize to outsiders a negative narrative of the country, poverty in plain sight, in the midst of an up and coming area of the city. Icons of the new Phnom Penh are being propped up in a rampant effort to create a new metropolis, particularly in the Chamkarmorn/Koh Pich area, with rapidly growing luxury housing, fine dining, a new casino, and a new high-end mall. These are all in the vicinity of the building and illustrate the stark contrasts of economic inequality that are pervasive around the city. As I passed by on a daily basis, my own ignorance wondered, why doesn’t the city just tear down this place? But that was before I went inside, before I spoke with Pheak Samnang*[1] and before I discovered another side of the narrative, which goes beyond what you see with the naked eye. Oak-a-bao, Battambang
February 14, 2004 Over 20 years had passed since my father buried my brother, Sakeda, and my grandparents, Kong Sreng and Yey Eng in Battambang. Before the Khmer Rouge, family’s of the deceased conducted intricate funeral ceremonies for their loved ones in traditional Cambodian culture. However, the Khmer Rouge did not allow any mourning or attachments to family. Tradition and culture was destroyed and humanity along with it. My father had to bury his son and parents-in-law without any Buddhist ceremonies, without any monks to help guide them into the next life. There was nothing he could do to commemorate their death or provide any offerings to them in the afterlife. Instead, he had to bury his family unceremoniously and carry on as if nothing happened. My uncle, Pa Om, felt he never completed his duty as the filial son in his parents’ death. Even though decades had passed, finding these bones meant they could finally give the proper rituals for their loved ones. More so, they could find peace and closure through this process. My father thought if he ever had the chance to go back to Oak-a-Bao, he was sure he could find the bones to give them a proper burial. For years, he also wanted to go back but was concerned about the safety. My uncle Om Ngat, who had lived in Battambang since 1979, was uncertain whether it was still safe to go. Pa Om was determined with or without anyone’s help. Finally they all decided they would take the chance and go together. The sun was beating down on us that long February afternoon in 2004. Even though it was technically the “cool season” in Cambodia, being out in the open and dry fields for hours took a toll on our bodies. We were thirsty, hot, sweaty and disoriented. I wondered, what are we even doing here? Then I looked around and realized the crossroads of fate was standing right in front of me. We were meant to be here. Destiny brought me back to Battambang, to Oak-a-bao, the Khmer Rouge camp I was born in over 20 years later. But seeing my birthplace was not the purpose of our visit. We were there to find the burial site of my family members who had died during the “bad times”. I will never forget my first visit back to Battambang, our visit back to Oak-a-bao. We were all looking for closure, all in our own way. The Verdict
Today, the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC), otherwise known as the Khmer Rouge Tribunal (KRT) presented the verdict to two of the highest-ranking surviving Khmer Rouge leaders. Noun Chea, also known as Brother Number 2, and Khieu Samphan, the Head of State for Democratic Kampuchea, were found guilty by the international tribunal for crimes against humanity. They both received a life sentence. Under their leadership, they were responsible for the deaths of over 1.7 million people who died at their hands by starvation, execution and rampant disease. Hearing this verdict and their crimes is painful for many who wanted see something more. The judgement today stripped the victims, living and dead, the right to see these leaders suffer as they did. Yet despite the angry emotions I felt today, I also remembered a different kind of Khmer Rouge leader, one who risked his life to save our family. |
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