The Phnom Penh Post - ENGLISH: “PM tells customs to clean up” plus 9 more |
- PM tells customs to clean up
- Wild grape wine enthusiast on an unusual passion
- Memories from the French era
- 7 Questions with Cristia Nou Picart
- From food to jazz, there’s life in this Cabaret
- Young, smart and single: a game of lonely hearts
- Palliative care ‘a drop in the ocean’ but tide is changing
- Children in the firing line
- Update says rubber company up to old tricks
- Officials implicated in fraud
Posted: 14 Nov 2013 06:38 PM PST The government has set a 60-day deadline for the customs department to clean up corruption within the department, Council of Ministers spokesman Phay Siphan confirmed yesterday. Siphan said when the government prepared the 2014 national budget in a meeting at the end of last month, they discussed reforms in the General Department of Customs and Excise to ensure greater transparency and accountability of national revenue. Improvements have already been made, according to Siphan, with customs officers adhering to official costs. Pen Sam Ath, senior official at the customs department, said yesterday that he was not authorised to reveal details of the planned reforms, but that a draft has been completed. "As far as I know, the action plan and operation plan are already drafted [by the Ministry of Economy and Finance]," Sam Ath said. The ministry could not be reached for comment. Xinhua reported on Wednesday that Cambodian customs officials called on importers to pay fees as stated by law rather than looking to bribe customs officers, after complaints by Chinese importers about increased tariffs. Preap Kol, executive director of Transparency International Cambodia said it's not confined to Chinese importers, but "all different neighbouring countries, it could be from ... China, it could be from Vietnam, it could be from Thailand." "Corruption in the taxation and customs sector is also an issue that needs to be tackled," he said, adding that "a lot of money" is lost through corruption in both areas. Asked about the two month deadline, he said he has not heard anything concrete about it but in general, "I think it indicates a matter of emergency, a matter of urgency that [Prime Minister Hun Sen] realises that the people now demand strongly that the government take action against corrupt officials." But Kol warned that little would be done without action or steps to help bring the area into compliance. Kol suggested an electronic system that records income or using a video camera at checkpoints. Song Saran, president of rice exporting company Amru Rice Cambodia, said that unofficial payments to export the rice is still a problem which hinders the exporting potential of the country. "[I need to pay] customs officers, economic police, and CAMCONTROL officers [unofficial payments] and that is making production costs higher. That is our difficulty to compete with other countries." According to data from the Ministry of Commerce, total exports of Cambodian products is valued at $5.2 billion in the first nine months of this year, a 26 per cent increase compared to $4.1 billion in the same period last year. In terms of imports, the country spent about $6.8 billion in the first nine months of this year, an increase 13 per cent from $6 billion in the same period last year. ADDITIONAL REPORTING BY MAY KUNMAKARA no-show |
Wild grape wine enthusiast on an unusual passion Posted: 14 Nov 2013 09:00 AM PST When Nou Virak first made wine from wild grapes in the local forest, his neighbours thought he was mad. Bennett Murray heard how his bottles are selling in the thousands. Pursat's Krakor district, located on the southern bank of the Tonle Sap lake, is known more for its prahok factories than wineries. But instead of fermenting fish, one local entrepreneur has reaped the forests' wild grapes to make local vintages. Sweet and sour with a light tart kick and high acidity that gives it a slight vinegary aroma, the wine won't turn connoisseurs' heads anytime soon, but Nou Virak's three-person team managed to bottle and sell 20,000 bottles last year. [img] The Wild Grapes Association, which sells wine certified organic by the Cambodian Organic Agriculture Association in three Phnom Penh shops, was started in 2003 and is based in a single shed surrounded by paddies just off Highway 5. It began, Virak said, as a foolhardy dream that made him a laughingstock among his neighbours. "People thought I was going crazy because I was spending so much money on making wine and buying grapes," said Virak as he recalled the eight years he spent teaching himself how to learn the process. "Now they don't know what to say because they see me selling so much, and they're afraid to ask for wine from me." Wild grapes grow naturally around Pursat, but are seldom eaten due to their unappealing flavour and texture. Their most common use before Virak showed up, he said, was as toys for children. [img] "They're hard to eat because the seed is big, the outside is thick, and when you eat it makes your mouth itch." But Virak, a 41-year-old Prey Veng native who was working in Pursat on an NGO-sponsored agricultural development project, decided winemaking could be a creative way to capitalise on the unused resource. Knowing little about wine production, however, he invested his savings and spent the next decade teaching himself the trade. His only prior experience had been the basic theory he learnt studying agriculture in Thailand. Without anyone else brave enough to try his concoctions, he was forced to test all the wine by himself which caused him to be frequently sick. The project became all-consuming, said Virak, adding that he has chosen to forgo family life in favour of winemaking. "The reason I don't want a wife right now is because if I have a wife, I'll waste all the money I need to make this wine. I'll have to take care of her and the kids." His obsession is particularly remarkable considering that he doesn't particularly enjoy wine. "I will taste it, but I do not like to drink very much," he said. [img] The manufacturing process is similar to ordinary wine, with grapes crushed and yeast added. They sit for three months in plastic barrels before palm sugar is added to aid fermentation and egg whites to absorb the gunk. The wine Virak has sold in the past has been aged for a full year, but he plans to soon start selling booze aged for three. Although Virak is considering the feasibility of cultivating the grapes, he currently enlists local villagers to harvest the grapes from the nearby forests at the edge of the Cardamom mountain range. He pays 500 riel per kilo and uses around 72 tonnes to produce 20,000 bottles. His neighbours have taken notice of his winery and have asked Virak for drinks, but Virak refuses, explaining that a single bottle carries a $6 price tag in Phnom Penh. He does, however, give free wine to women after childbirth. "When a woman gives birth, they drink it and think it helps them," said Virak, adding that he could not personally vouch for the claim but did not doubt his neighbours' testimonies. It is not just the wine that helps with women's health issues, said Virak, adding that the roots were also in demand to treat urinary tract infections in women. This created problems for Virak when the local medicine man, unaware that Virak was using the grapes, dug out the roots of the trees that the grapevines hang off. The issue was resolved after the medicine man agreed to stay off Virak's turf. Virak's wild grape wine has proven popular enough that he is now expanding his operations to Preah Vihear, where he says additional rain makes the grapes even better. He now divides his time between his Pursat winery and Preah Vihear, where he hopes the first batch is still being aged. Virak also hopes to export the wine to China, which he visited earlier this year for the China-Asean Expo in Nanning. "They seem to like it a lot in China, and I really want to find somewhere abroad to export it," he said, adding that he wants the wine's unique flavour to catch on internationally. Virak recommends drinking his wine with very rare beef. You can buy Virak's wine at Happy Farm Shop, #11 Street 230. no-show |
Posted: 14 Nov 2013 09:00 AM PST Last weekend brought celebrations in Phnom Penh to mark 60 years since the late King Father Norodom SIhanouk secured independence from France. Pictures from Srin Sokmean's collection contrasted with modern images by Nick Street reveal the changes. [img] "The French people who worked in high positions like chief of the village and chief of the commune took taxes. If we didnt have money or anything to give them, there was torture. I used to see and hear about bread at that time but I had no chance to taste it. " - Muong Phoan, 83, lived in Battambang and was 23 when Cambodia won its independence. no-show |
7 Questions with Cristia Nou Picart Posted: 14 Nov 2013 09:00 AM PST Cristia Nou Picart, 36, is a chef from Barcelona, Spain. He arrived in Phnom Penh three months ago and is now the new chef at Doors Music and Tapas, where he has created special new tapas and lunch menus. Before he moved to Cambodia, he was the head chef at the Capella Hotel in Singapore for three years and before that he worked at the Ritz-Carlton hotel in Barcelona. He sat down with Emily Wight to talk about Mediterranean food, how to attract Cambodians to Spanish cuisine and the importance of sourcing local produce. What inspired your love of cooking? What kind of food do you cook? When people hear about Spanish food, they think: paella, tapas, sangria. Maybe that's how it's marketed internationally, but we have so much more to offer: amazing cheese, fish, rice, and not just paella. And the meat: we're crazy about the pork - it's beautiful. We have Iberian ham, chorizo, Serrano ham, all cured products. I make fresh bread using a unique Josper oven; seabass with wild mushroom risotto; seafood paella; Spanish sausage. I also still cook some of my mother's recipes: empanadas and ham croquettes. Is there a place in Cambodia for Spanish food? Definitely. It's my aim to branch out to Khmer people so they can discover authentic, traditional Spanish food. In Germany you have a lot of Spanish restaurants and it's the same in London; in France you have Mediterranean food too. At the moment, Cambodians aren't used to Spanish food. But they'll get used to it. Garlic, for example, is a key ingredient in both Spanish and Asian food. Everyone loves it. We are gradually having more and more Khmer people come to eat here. It started with Western clientele who bring Khmer friends and then they bring their friends who are also Khmer. Where do you source your produce from? It's very important to have good quality food and usually this means it has to be as local as possible. Even if a zucchini is big and misshapen here, it's local and I'd rather take it than import one from another place. The markets here are very good, for vegetables and also local fish. However, the beef I import from Australia or the US because it's different here: too chewy and it tastes different. Obviously Iberian ham I also need to import, but for the sausages, I use pork from here in Cambodia. For you, what is food's most important quality? It's impossible to say. If you're an artist, you don't have a favourite colour. For example, I like yellow, but blue is fantastic and red is beautiful. You can't say just one thing: it needs to be an amalgamation. It might look very good, but when you taste it it might be too salty. For chefs, is it easier to work in emerging and fledgling economies such as Singapore and Cambodia than Spain, where the financial crisis has hit hard? Traditionally in Spain, people had more money to go out, and in Barcelona there was much the culture of eating out all the time and of course there are all the tourists there as well. But people are eating out less: my friends in Spain tell me they still go out to eat but maybe three times a week instead of twice. And we have had a massive reduction in jobs. Of all the people I went to cookery school with, only two of us are still chefs now out of 30 or 40 people. If you had to choose a last meal, what would it be? It actually wouldn't be Spanish - it would be Italian pizza. Believe me. Italian and Spanish food come back to the same thing: the Mediterranean. Basil, olive oil, good bread… the tomatoes on a pizza are very important. Give me tomatoes from a tin, and I'll say, "no, thank you". I want real tomatoes, infused with garlic and basil. Another thing that I love is croissant with chocolate, it's one of my favourite things and once I've started eating I can't stop. Of course I love paella, but if tomorrow was my last day it would have to be pizza and then croissant with chocolate. no-show |
From food to jazz, there’s life in this Cabaret Posted: 14 Nov 2013 09:00 AM PST Black iron letters spell out 'Cabaret': it's a grand sign for the Central Market surroundings. Few choose the area for a high-end night out. But speaking earlier this week, less than a month after the French-Asian fusion restaurant opened, Cabaret's experienced manager Gwenaёl Lescutier said the customers who do will make a point to return. When I visited earlier this week, it looked like he might be right. The place is beautiful, and vast. From the sultry red and black colour scheme apparent from the entrance to the live jazz played within, Cabaret oozes 1920s glamour. Black birdcages filled with lighted lanterns hang from the ceiling. A pool of water stands beside the tables, complete with lush greenery. I chose a seat in the courtyard: the centre of it all. Like the space, the food menu is expansive. French dishes are best accompanied by something from the expensive wine selection, or a cocktail. To start we tried "Le Cabaret"– the house specialty. It's a childish delight, served in a champagne flute with a cherry at the bottom, and with the sweet taste of a Shirley Temple. Vodka adds a naughtier kick. The trouble is it costs $11, and is not worthy of the splurge. The prices here aren't cheap but the extra $3 to $5 you spend on a main is almost compensated for by the excellent presentation and pleasant ambiance. Some of the dishes, however, fall badly short of the price bracket and the service is shaky. You won't make a false start with the goat cheese puff pastry appetiser: the golden, flaky pastry gave way to a creamy cushion with hints of thyme. It's a shame Cabaret don't deliver: platters of these would make for an indulgent but classy Saturday night in. [img] Pasta dishes came in around $8 to $12 while the seafood and meat main courses ranged from 9$ to $26. The large filet portion of salmon was faultlessly moist on the inside but covered with an inelegant tangy ginger sauce that overpowered the flavour. Mounds of mashed potatoes were tasteless. Don't bother with salad: the Nicoise was ordinary. You'd do better to toss out the lettuce and garnish and sink your teeth into the tender peppered and seared tuna. The zucchini bell pepper Tagliatelle we ordered as a wild card was the big surprise – and I'm not a pasta girl. This nearly turned me: the velvety sauce clung to the pasta and the vegetables tasted fresh and zesty. Sadly we had to send back the lamb skewer – the most popular item on the menu, according to the chef. The presentation was superb. Thick cuts of lamb were saddled between vibrant roasted peppers. A generous portion of creamy parmesan pasta was served on the side. But to no stretch of the imagination could the meat be described as cooked medium well. To their credit, the staff was quick to remove the dish and take it off the bill. As for dessert, the chocolate tart was the size of a small pie and too rich to eat without water close at hand. I had to remind the servers to keep our glasses full. The small scoop of strawberry basil sorbet that accompanied the dish was delicious, however, and should be a standalone dish. We had a large group so the courtyard table was the perfect spot, but the space is large enough to cater for any party. For intimacy, escape to the corner where the lights are dimmed. If you're after a few drinks and a jazz soundtrack, the bar is the perfect backdrop. The polished dark wooden shelves are fixed onto red brick and the bottles are poured by a mixologist talented enough to warrant the title. How about Cabaret, does the place merit its glitzy title? Almost – and it's certainly trying. Remember Liza Minnelli: "What good is sitting alone in your room? Come hear the music play. Life is a Cabaret, old chap." Cecelia Marshall no-show |
Young, smart and single: a game of lonely hearts Posted: 14 Nov 2013 09:00 AM PST Hash Veasna is an expert on stocks and bonds. The former business mogul has written no less than eight Khmer-language books on trading. But today he negotiates a different kind of bond: the one between lonely hearts. Two years ago, Veasna set aside his job as finance and operation manager of the Soma Group conglomerate to pursue an even more turbulent market when he founded My Best Consult, Cambodia's first professional matchmaking service. He spends his days trying to match the Kingdom's young singles as they try to reconcile tradition with modernity. He even has the certificate – from the New York-based Matchmaking Institute – to prove it. Speaking in his Phnom Penh office last week, the 36-year-old proudly showed off the paper, which he was awarded last year after taking a correspondence course. It's particularly necessary to prove his legitimacy in Cambodia, he said, where so-called 'marriage brokering' has seen young brides siphoned off to foreign men for a fee of up to $20,000. Many such arrangements have amounted to little more than poorly-disguised human trafficking. [img] Veasna was once forced to explain himself to government representatives who visited to hear how the business is run, he said. He stressed his mission was to find compatible, not profitable, matches for a demographic whose ideas are different to their parents'. "In Cambodia at the moment, people are fighting to change the way others think," he said. The sentiment could apply to many different aspects of Cambodian society today, as the country changes and modernizes, but in this instance, he means a shift in the way people approach romantic relationships. Experts in the field say a decrease in arranged marriages at young ages means the onus has shifted onto the singles themselves to find lovers. Consequently, a new dating culture has emerged that combines new ideas from abroad with more conservative elements from the local culture. Veasna's ideal client is the 'professional single', who was raised after the Khmer Rouge regime, has focused on a career and rejected ideas about traditional arranged marriage. "The media, newspapers, television have broadcast a different way to feel happiness. The tendencies are a bit changed, and they believe they have to find their own love." A modern matchmaking service is a natural continuation of traditional matchmaking conducted by village elders, said Veasna. Previously, parents and grandparents met to decide who would marry who, he explained. "The towns are growing big and the population increases, so how do people know others well? If there is one person who can provide very clear and transparent information, then this changes the form from the old tradition to the new tradition." Singles struggling to find partners should approach the marriage market the way they would the stock market by investing time and money while striving for transparency, he said. Veasna's clients meet with him individually to present their CVs and undergo interviews in order to determine their requirements and deal-breakers. Lifestyle choices, such as attachment to tradition, religiosity and levels of materialism are also evaluated. [img] The client's profile is then entered into his database, and if a potential match arises, he will contact both parties and show them the profiles. The only information he withholds are their names, phone numbers and specific place of employment. If both people are interested, he will arrange a lunch date. His ideal client is someone like Thyda*, aat a Phnom Penh embassy pursuing a master's degree. But at 27 years old, she is waiting to finish her education before entering the marriage market. Her parents may try to set her up with a man, but she said it is ultimately her decision. "After I get a job, I can decide which partner I want, and not have my parents tell me what to do," said Thyda, adding that she may consider a man her parents chose. "They may set me up, and then I decide." Dr Ben van den Bussche, a Dutch psychiatrist at Sunrise Mental Clinic, said that he often sees young people who are at odds with older generations' views of marriage and romance. "It is a society in transition. All the youngsters are on Facebook, they watch MTV, they go out and see what is happening elsewhere in the world. They are changing, and that's what I see quite often here." His Cambodian colleague, Dr Heng Sopheap, a general practitioner undergoing psychiatric training, said arranged marriage, which has long been the norm in Cambodian society, has decreased to around half of all marriages in the past ten years, with the rest mostly meeting their spouses at work or school. "In my experience, at a young age, like 21 or 22, after one month they separate, or they don't separate but their relationship has no happiness, because they are so young." Srin Manith, a 19-year-old French student at Institut Français with aspirations to enter the business world, agrees. Her relationship, which began three years ago, resulted from a spontaneous Facebook friend request from a boy she had never met. "Like foreigners date, we go to restaurants, have dinner and red wine, but then afterward he just brings me back home," she said. [img] Manith already has mapped a plan for her relationship that, if successful, will break even more social conventions. When she hits her late 20s, she would like to move in with her boyfriend and have children. But marriage, she said, can wait until her 30th birthday. Cohabitation and planned childbirth before marriage is an unusual concept to many Cambodians, but Manith said that it is right for her. "My family says no and his family also says no, but between me and him we should live together like a foreigner couple. Why? So we can know each other much more. Just live together, have a baby, one day our kid grows up and we marry, and that's fine." She said her boyfriend would like to get married now, but Manith will not budge. Last time they spoke of the matter, he agreed to her terms. "I say to him: If you can wait, fine, if you cannot wait, you can leave me." Other young people have eschewed the search for love entirely, preferring to focus on the professional path. Van Dana, a 21-year-old student at both the University of Cambodia and the Royal University of Law and Economics, said that student life precludes him from dating. "If I have a girlfriend, I want to give her happiness, not sadness. How could I give her happiness if I spend too much studying at university?" It is tough sometimes, he said, but ultimately his choice. "I see the couples when I go to the coffee shop and I sit alone, single, and I look around and see them, yeah, maybe I feel jealous." Would he consider using a matchmaker? No, he said, adding that he is confident in his ability to find a girlfriend by himself. Veasna admits that his business's path to success has been slow. Despite great initial interest, so far he has set up 10 dates. None have worked out. However, he said that he must be patient as young Cambodians find their place in the Kingdom's new love market. "It is a turning point. Cambodia will definitely change," he said. He has no plans to retire. He is presently single, and said he would like to find a wife who wants a part of the matchmaking business. no-show |
Palliative care ‘a drop in the ocean’ but tide is changing Posted: 14 Nov 2013 09:00 AM PST Despite cultural, financial and professional barrers, care for the terminally ill is slowly improving in Cambodia. Will Jackson reports. When Cambodia's only palliative home care team first visited Chhang Tity, she was weeping in confusion, exhaustion and pain. Uterine cancer had spread throughout the 42-year-old's body, invading her organs and causing her legs and abdomen to swell up with fluid. She couldn't sit down comfortably, let alone sleep, and was in constant pain. The team - comprised of doctors and nurses from Douleurs Sans Frontieres (Pain Without Borders) and local NGO Save Old People Organisation - examined Tity, talked with her and her family about how she was feeling, then gave her some painkillers and sleeping pills. The following week they returned to the two-story concrete and corrugated iron house that Tity shared with her mother and three children and examined her again. She told them she was feeling much better. She was in much less pain and able to sit relatively comfortably and get some sleep. [img] As the team left, the children and their grandmother thanked them for helping to relieve Tity's suffering, palms pressed together. Even though Tity died a few days later she is considered one of the lucky ones. Palliative care - the provision of treatment intended to alleviate the physical, emotional and psychological suffering of the terminally ill and their families - is a relatively new concept in Cambodia with few specialist practitioners. Each year thousands of Cambodians die in unnecessary suffering for want of strong pain-killing medication or proper psychological care. Practitioners say barriers to Western-style care for the dying include reliance on families providing care, reluctance on the part of some medical staff to change their practices and to deliver bad news to patients and - as in every other sector in Cambodia - lack of money. And yet - thanks in large part to DSF - palliative care ideals are gradually coming into practice in Cambodian public hospitals, non-government hospices and patients' homes. According to anthropologist Susan Needham the palliative care ideal of a "good death" is actually very similar to the traditional Cambodian ideal. [img] "From what I understand among Cambodians, it is believed that the moment of death affects the quality of the spirit's afterlife," Needham said in an email. "The goal is to keep people calm and relaxed as they are dying (sounds like a form of palliative care to me)." However, in Cambodian hospitals doctors and nurses are generally responsible only for clinical curative treatment, not "comfort care". Much of what's considered palliative care - such as emotional and psychological support - is left to patients' families who are also expected to feed, bathe, toilet and even change the dressings of their loved ones. In contrast, palliative care specialists are ideally given extensive training in pain and symptom management and psychological techniques to deal with stressed and upset patients and their families. Ruth Penfold, a British independent palliative care specialist who has spent the past three years working in the field in Cambodia including a year at DSF, said palliative care principals were first introduced to Cambodia during the AIDS epidemic in the 1990s when hospices, clinics and pagodas began offering care to those dying of the disease but shunned by their families. Despite this, Penfold describes the palliative movement here as still "embryonic". "That whole concept of health care being broader than physical care and getting better is new and they're missing that tier of carers," said Penfold. [img] She added that Cambodian doctors were reluctant to let patients die without taking futile and disruptive "heroic measures", such as violent cardiac compression that can break a patient's ribs, or to take care of patients' non-clinical needs. "In my experience doctors don't like people dying," she said. "They struggle with that here, to the point that if there's a patient dying on their shift who is expected to die, who is terminally ill, they will move them to intensive care, if they possibly can. They just don't want that to happen on their watch. "Now, there are a minority of doctors who have begun to be exposed to palliative care training who are sympathetic to the concept of still being able to offer important care to somebody even if you can't make them better, they understand you can still help them. That's the best thing about palliative care, is that you never say there's nothing more I can do. There's always something you can do. "But teaching trained staff [doctors and nurses] here that that something might be sitting with someone for five minutes and holding their hand, they find that really awkward and they don't want to do it." [img] What's more, once patients are diagnosed as terminally ill they are usually sent home be looked after by their family without professional home care. "So there are a lot of people dying of, for example, very advanced cancer with associated symptoms, not least pain, which is not managed," Penfold said. "There's not the knowledge to manage it and there aren't the drugs to manage it. There's no access to expert pain symptom control." Dr Roger Thay, a French palliative care specialist working with DSF, said one of the biggest challenges to bringing palliative care to Cambodia was dealing with the cultural emphasis on families rather than individuals. He said he was shocked the first time a patients' family intervened before he could answer a terminally ill patient inquiring about the seriousness of the illness. "The patients' families are afraid that the bad news will just make them worse," said Dr Thay, who was born to Cambodian parents but grew up in France. "The doctors here tend to just tell patients that everything's going to be OK. "I would prefer to tell them but if the family says no, I will not. Because if I tell them then that will destroy the relationship with the family, the trust between them. And that would be even worse." Someone who is much more positive about the progress of palliative care in Cambodia is Dr Eav Sokha, the head of the oncology department at Phnom Penh's public Calmette Hospital and the former head of oncology at the Khmer-Soviet Friendship Hospital. Dr Sokha said palliative care was a priority at the hospitals and the standard had improved a great deal in the past decade. He said a 24-bed cancer treatment ward opened in Calmette in January with a full roster of staff trained in palliative care. While the while the ward was not free - patients are charged $24 a night - he said palliative care was also provided in the free 200-bed Medicine B-ward. He disagreed with Ruth Penfold's criticism that Cambodian doctors focused too much on curative medicine at the expensive of palliative care. While about 70 per cent of cancer patients arrived in the advanced stages of cancer which was incurable, he said medical treatment - such as radiation treatment - was often still necessary to prolong their lives. "I agree there's a need to establish a terminal ill care facility or services in Cambodia in the whole country," he said. "But now we have two hospitals where we can take care of cancer patients with curative intent and also at the same with palliative care intent." Dr Sokha added that later this month construction would begin on the National Cancer Centre which would include an entire floor for palliative care when it was completed in 2015. He said a major issue that did need to be addressed on a national basis was the provision of palliative care - particularly pain relief - in the provincial and district hospitals. Under Cambodian, law only properly trained doctors can prescribe morphine and then only for one week at a time which means patients or their carers living in the provinces must return to Phnom Penh every seven days for a new prescription. "I think we need more training for medical professionals at the provincial hospital and district hospitals as well in order that they provide palliative care service close to the patient so that when they need terminal ill care the patient does not have to move to the city," he said. Despite having only a small team and a tiny budget, DSF is one of the major driving forces improving palliative care services both in Cambodia's hospitals and in patients' homes. The France-based NGO currently provides advice during regular pain consultation sessions at Phnom Penh's Khmer-Soviet Friendship Hospital and runs national palliative care training courses for doctors and nurses. It is also working with Buddhist NGO Save Old People Organisation (SOPO), based at Wat Taphem near Phnom Penh Airport, to establish the palliative home care team as an autonomous and independent service not reliant on foreign donations. SOPO director Kong Nat - who is a monk - said the spiritual aspect of palliative care was important in Cambodia. He said when a Cambodian was dying the family would usually invite a monk to the home or hospital to pray for them. "When the patient sees the monk, they feel more comfortable. Belief is very important." SOPO's Dr Sao Thy said he had found palliative home care to be of benefit to patients. "Patients feel happier and always ask for more support," Dr Thy said. "It's never been seen like this in Cambodia before." DSF's Dr Thay said he sometimes felt that the NGO's work in Cambodia was like trying to bail out the ocean. "We have made about 100 visits to only 27 patients in the past two months out of the thousands of people dying in pain," he said. But he said the best thing he could do was to make Cambodians realise that suffering was not inevitable. "And a lot of people are motivated to improve the health status of this country, so I think it's worth doing." One of the regular destinations for SOPO and DSF's palliative home care team is the St Elizabeth Catholic Sick Shelter in located in southern Phnom Penh. The shelter - which opened in 2008 - has two doctors and four health facilitators on site to provide 24-hour care for up to 18 patients, primarily cancer sufferers from outside Phnom Penh receiving treatment at the nearby Khmer-Soviet Friendship Hospital. Vantha Dy, from Kandal province, stayed there recently after having his foot amputated in a bid to slow the progress of an aggressive sarcoma that had spread throughout his body. The palliative home care team provided the 30-year-old with pain killers and medication to ease his breathlessness and discussed his condition with him. Afterwards he said the pain had eased and being able to talk about his fears had given him some peace of mind. He was even able to smile. "I feel less afraid now," he said. no-show |
Posted: 14 Nov 2013 08:42 AM PST The sound of bullets whizzing by Stung Meanchey Primary School terrified 13-year-old Mun Sonita as she sat in social studies class on Tuesday morning. "My class and I were scared and we dropped to the floor," Sonita said in the school's courtyard yesterday, as children scurried about playing during their lunch break. Her teacher ultimately had to evacuate the classroom as tear gas seeped in, burning the faces of Sonita and her sixth-grade classmates. Intense rioting near the Stung Meanchey Bridge in the capital on Tuesday culminated with police opening fire with live ammunition into a crowd of hundreds of striking garment workers attempting to march from SL Garment Processing (Cambodia) Ltd to Prime Minister Hun Sen's house. Police gunfire killed one woman and injured nine others, according to a tally taken by rights group Licadho and the Community Legal Education Center. Two teenagers arrested during the riot, aged 14 and 17, were charged yesterday with damaging property, insulting public officials, obstruction of public officials and aggravating circumstances, according to CLEC executive director Yeng Virak. Amid the rock throwing, tear gas dispersal and gunfire, little consideration was given to the fact that hundreds of children at the school across the street from Stung Meanchey pagoda could get caught in the crossfire. When bullets began flying, some schoolchildren mistook the sound for fireworks, and tried to walk outside for a look, said an administrator at the school, who asked not to be identified as he is not authorised to speak with the media. Teachers kept their students inside the classrooms, until tear gas forced teachers in two classrooms in the school's northwest corner to move their students to other rooms. During the onslaught, children could be seen fleeing on foot and bicycles out of the school complex's rear exit that leads to an alleyway just off Veng Sreng Road, where the riot remained in progress. "When people get injured as a result of a crackdown, we all suffer," the administrator said. "We don't want to see this." Although no children were reported injured during the calamity, some seem to have been deeply affected by it, said another teacher at the school who spoke on condition of anonymity. "The children are very scared," the teacher said. "It's difficult to manage them in class." In an interview yesterday, National Military Police spokesman Kheng Tito – who was not in Meanchey district during the riot – said police were stationed nearby the school to protect the children. However, Post reporters at the scene saw no police stationed at the school when authorities opened fire on demonstrators. Tito defended the use of deadly force, asserting that police wanted to contain the violence to the area in front of the pagoda, where at least two police officers were being held captive by a mob of protesters. The measure prevented violence from spreading to other areas of the district, which, Tito said, would have endangered more bystanders. "When [demonstrators] don't listen to us and cause violence against authorities, we must take action to keep the peace." Phnom Penh municipal police chief Chuon Sovann declined to comment yesterday, and directed a Post reporter to a police spokesman, who could not be reached before press time. Eang Vuthy, director of rights group Equitable Cambodia, yesterday implored the government to investigate the shooting. The fact that it occurred in the school's direct vicinity only added to the wanton disregard for human life police showed when they fired into the crowd, he said. "This is a primary school full of kids," Vuthy said. "You cannot shoot guns there, you're frightening them, you're scaring them and this is not a way to respond." Dropping off his five-year-old daughter at Stung Meanchey Primary School yesterday, Mao Youra, 45, said that although his daughter attends school in the afternoon and was not there during the riot on Tuesday, she feels unsafe attending school after hearing about the riot. If similar violence occurs near the school again, Youra said, he will pull her out. "I don't want to see this happen again," Youra said. "I am scared about this." no-show |
Update says rubber company up to old tricks Posted: 14 Nov 2013 08:40 AM PST Vietnamese rubber firm Hoang Anh Gia Lai (HAGL) has failed to keep its commitments to address human rights and environmental abuses at its plantations in Cambodia, Global Witness said in a statement yesterday. In May, the London-based NGO published an investigation into two Vietnamese rubber companies – HAGL and the Vietnam Rubber Group – which it accused of destroying lives and the environment and flouting Cambodian law with the tacit acquiescence of the authorities. "HAGL has been very good at making commitments but very bad at keeping them," Megan MacInnes, who heads Global Witness' land program, said in the statement. "It's been busy telling us and everyone else it's serious about changing its ways, but the evidence indicates that logging is still carrying on and the people whose farms were bulldozed are still struggling to feed themselves." The group also warned investors in the company that it "now poses a financial and reputational risk" and "recommends they divest". It singled out the International Finance Corporation and Deutsche Bank as investors who should take heed. However, the IFC has previously said it is invested in a firm called Dragon Capital, which has invested in HAGL, while Deutsche Bank has denied having invested in the firm at all. Headed by Doan Nguyen Duc, HAGL is one of Vietnam's largest private companies. HAGL owns subsidiaries including Hoang Anh Andong Meas, Hoang Anh Oyadov and Heng Brothers, all in Ratanakkiri province. Opposition lawmaker Son Chhay, who has investigated the company's activities in Cambodia for several years, said HAGL's operations had created a "big disaster" in Cambodia. "I doubt there is any country in the world giving away the forest in the way Cambodian government has done.… The disaster started in Vietnam and went to Laos. Now it is a big disaster in Cambodia," he said. "They just create a fake company and get concessions from the government to sell them [to HAGL].…It affects the sovereignty of the country as well." HAGL's office in Vietnam declined to comment on the Global Witness statement yesterday and calls to its subsidiaries in Cambodia went unanswered. The company in September agreed to an independent audit, but has backtracked favouring "social programs" that "appear to be little more than a PR exercise," the Global Witness statement said. Chhay Thy, Rattanakiri provincial coordinator for the rights group Adhoc, said that during the election period HAGL had stopped operations in the province in an attempt to drum up support for the ruling Cambodian People's Party. "For a few months during the elections, [it] did not work to develop anything. Instead, in collaboration with the authorities, it donated gifts … to residents to satisfy them and [encourage them to] vote for the ruling party," he said, adding that the company had since resumed buying luxury timber to sell on the black market. no-show |
Posted: 14 Nov 2013 08:37 AM PST Two senior Ministry of Health officials have defrauded a multibillion-dollar fund, bankrolled largely by the US, Japan and Australia, out of hundreds of thousands of dollars in return for allocating more than $11.7 million in contracts to two foreign firms, a Global Fund investigation has found. In a report released yesterday, the Global Fund said the director and deputy director at the National Centre for Parasitology, Entomology and Malaria Control (CNM) were paid "commissions" totalling $410,000 by Swiss firm Vestergaard Frandsen and Sumitomo Chemical Singapore between 2006 and 2011. The CNM's director allegedly covered up the fraud by suggesting the suppliers hire a "consultant" or "agent" to conduct their business, however the investigation found no evidence the agent had ever existed. The director and deputy director were the real recipients, the report said. While the report does not identify the alleged offenders by name, Dr Duong Socheat served as the centre's director for nearly the entirety of the investigation period. Socheat hung up on a Post reporter when called for comment yesterday evening. The two suppliers have had their contracts with the fund suspended pending a full review following the two-and-a-half-year investigation into the allegations, which surfaced in 2011. The report also found evidence of corruption in other programs it runs. It concluded that a procurement officer at the National Center for HIV/AIDS had received bribes to facilitate purchases and that MEDiCAM had falsified documents and invented staff positions to increase its funding. Seth Faison, head of communications for the Switzerland-based Fund, said that the Fund had sent the report's findings to the Cambodian police. "[The director and deputy director are] not named in the report, but are identified by their titles and the time period they worked," he said. "We're referring the information on to law enforcement officials." The current CNM director, Dr. Char Meng Chour, could not be reached for comment on the report. The Global Fund has remained tight-lipped throughout the years-long investigation, taking more than a year to release its findings after, in November 2012, it said it would be published in a matter of weeks. Since 2003, the Fund has approved $116.8 million for malaria programs alone, and $353.3 million in total. But the programs – particularly the malaria one – have been beset with allegations of corruption and financial mismanagement. In February, separate allegations emerged that a government-run and Global Fund-sponsored initiative had distributed expired anti-retroviral medication. Yesterday's report did not include details of expired HIV medication being distributed. "We have heard rumours [about expired anti-retrovirals being used]," Faison said. "But have no evidence." Tim Vora of the HIV/AIDS Coordinating Committee said he had passed evidence of expired medication being distributed to the Fund months ago. "The Global Fund has a clear objective to strengthen procurement. I think it was their responsibility to include [looking at expired HIV medication] in the report. They should not say [there's no evidence], because we sent them the evidence," he said. no-show |
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