The Phnom Penh Post - ENGLISH: “Trash collectors triumph” plus 9 more

The way the Global Fund handled the Good Samaritan's dilemma is to say, 'We'll hold our noses and keep working.'

Authorities say they have recovered a priceless gold urn believed to contain the ashes of the Buddha from a house in Takeo province's Traing district.

Kandal provincial police chief Eav Chamroeun said officers arrested two suspects yesterday, in the process seizing back the urn, along with a gold statue and part of another statue, stolen from the Royal Treasury on Oudong mountain, north of Phnom Penh, in December.

"The suspects, Keo Reaksmey, male, 24, and Siek Sareth, female, 39, were arrested yesterday afternoon," he said.

Chamroeun alleged that Reaksmey had melted up to 10 statues stolen from Oudong and sold the gold at market, adding that equipment for such purposes was also confiscated from the home in Khvav commune.

"He has suddenly built three wooden houses and bought a 2014 model car – everyone in his village can't believe he's so rich in the past month," he said.

National Police spokesman Kirth Chantharith confirmed the two arrests but declined to comment in more detail.

Chamroeun also made a point of highlighting that Reaksmey has a criminal record and alleged that up until the theft, took his grandmother to Oudong mountain to beg "every day".

Police and prosecutors from Takeo and Kandal cooperated with the department of penal police at the Ministry of Interior to arrest the two suspects, Chamroeun added.

Police say the urn has since been examined by senior monks and verified as the relic stolen.

But calls are already emerging for a more in-depth investigation.

"The high-ranking Buddhist monks should check they are the real relics. I guess [they] must know and the Queen Mother must know [what is real]," said Son Soubert, an adviser to King Norodom Sihamoni.

Soubert, who said the relic was "a palladium for the country", also encouraged continued investigation into who was behind the theft.

"There are many questions and doubts and so on," he said. "It's strange that all the relics end up with a poor man."

But Buntenh, the Independent Monks Network for Social Justice leader who led a march through the streets in December demanding more be done to recover the urn, also demanded a more thorough examination.

"Right now, I don't believe this. If this is real, then let the whole public come to see them . . . to check the validity," he said.

Buntenh added that he doubted that "just a simple guy" could steal so many relics from Oudong mountain and said more ministries and top monks should be involved in the verification process.

The urn was brought to Cambodia from Sri Lanka in 1957 by the late King Father Norodom Sihanouk to commemorate the 2,500th anniversary of Buddha's birth.

Four guards at the Royal Treasury and a villager who lives nearby were arrested in December over thefts at the site.

Cham Sophy, 58, a nun at Oudong mountain, said those at the site were happy to hear the urn had been found.

"We're waiting to have a ceremony for its return. We hope this will be soon," she said.

Dear Editor,

Comments made by Tim De Meyer, ILO Specialist regarding Convention 87 (C87) and Right to Strike, do not represent tripartite consensus within the ILO.

The suggestion by the Post that CAMFEBA and GMAC do not respect the right to strike is not representative of employer's views. Employers respect that striking is a means of industrial action.

However, this does not mean such action is a fundamental right. Employers expect that any strike action must be conducted in line with the law.

Cambodian delegates comprising of CAMFEBA, unions and government were all represented at the 2013 International Labour Conference where the ILO Committee of Application of Standards (CAS) deliberated on the Right to Strike and C87.

The CAS is a supervisory body and oversees complaints against governments. The 2013 meeting outcome is clear: "All cases which have a challenge related to right to strike and C87 will carry the following statement moving forward: "The Committee did not address the right to strike in this case as the employers do not agree that there is a right to strike recognized in C87."

This statement makes two points clear which have not been transparent before. First, there is no agreement in CAS that C87 recognises a right to strike. Secondly, because of consensus absence, CAS recognises that it is not in a position to make requests to governments to change their laws and practice regarding the right to strike.

Accordingly, the claim by de Meyer that there is consensus within ILO tripartite constituency is simply not true!

The issue of strikes is a sensitive one and requires that journalists engage in high-standard investigative reporting. Legislative history is clear: the proposed C87 relates only to freedom of association (FoA) and not to the right to strike.

ILO interpretation states "Strikes of a purely political nature and strikes decided systematically long before negotiations take place do not fall within the scope of the principles of FoA."

Also, "the solution to legal conflict as a result of difference in interpretation should be left to competent courts. The prohibition of strikes in such a situation does not constitute a breach of FoA".

Strikes are consistently referred to "as a means of action, of achieving …" A means does not imply a fundamental right; it implies a tool available to workers and unions.

Under Cambodian law, we are all (employers and workers) provided a guaranteed right to use industrial action tools. The use of such tools must be in line with the law and follow due process.

Penalties apply otherwise. Specifically it is not a right to create chaos, anarchy and use violence. The ILO position on violence is clear: Violence, intimidation and damage to property are not legitimate means of industrial action.

Employers respect the rights of both employers and workers to use the means available to pursue industrial action as long as such use is within the law.

We respect the role and responsibility of government to govern, to ensure constructive industrial relations and to ensure peace and public order.

Cambodia law is clear. Article 330 states "A strike must be peaceful. Committing violent acts during a strike is considered to be serious misconduct that could be punished, including work suspension or disciplinary lay-off".

Article 331 provides "Freedom of work for non-strikers shall be protected against all forms of coercion or threat". Employers are "held hostage" when we protect those rights of non-striking workers, investment, property.

There is no recognition of violent acts of unions, which were the cornerstone of the violence that transpired in January. Employer's rights need to be respected too.

Respect for the rights of workers cannot extend to the violent behaviours that started within the union movement which resulted in the loss of innocent lives, disabled-injured public security personnel, damaged-destroyed public and private property and injured many innocent people.

This is not dignified human rights protection.

There is a great need for the press and international bodies to better understand the challenges and realities of what transpired and for unions to "clean-up" and make a stand against violence within their movement and to follow the law.

We all have a lot to learn. Employers continue to seek a unified, representative, constructive, union movement. Employers don't promote aggression or hostility.

Everyone needs to be responsible and accountable for their actions and play a constructive role in any discussions at hand.

Everyone has a role to play to help build a prosperous Cambodia.

Vice-president,
CAMFEBA

Kong Rattana Somaly began working for Mfone about 13 years ago, in 2000. She answered phones in the call centre, and after a while rose to a supervisor position. When the telecommunications firm unexpectedly filed for bankruptcy in January last year, few saw it coming. She learned about it from a local newspaper.

"I remember the day well. Everyone was shocked. They wept and held each other," the 43-year-old said yesterday at her clothing shop near Russian market, which she started a few months after the company fell apart. "Some cried, yelling out 'We are jobless!'"

More than a year after Mfone went bankrupt, leaving behind millions in unpaid wages and owing debts to foreign companies, laid-off employees are still feeling the force of the collapse. Some, like Somaly, sighed and moved in the direction of an entirely new career. She isn't looking back, vowing to never work for a telecommunications company again.

Others have bigger problems, from debt to ongoing unemployment. More than 1,000 workers were ultimately left high and dry after the Cambodian telco shut its doors.

Since then, compensation payments have trickled in through the sale of Mfone's assets, but the process is slow. After tending to her shop yesterday morning, Somaly joined her former employees at an unassuming flat in Phnom Penh's Chamkarmon district to receive the third and latest installment of what the company owes workers in compensation, raising the total to 70 per cent.

The payment arrived after 10 per cent was doled out in July, followed by another 30 per cent in November. About $3.08 million of the $4.4 million owed to the workers has been paid out.

It is estimated that Mfone accumulated more than $160 million in debt before it went bankrupt.

Corporate creditors include Norwegian-owned electronics firm Eltek Valere (owed about $5 million) and Chinese telecommunications equipment provider Huawei Technologies (owed $65 million).

The firm's demise triggered a fire sale of its assets, including thousands of cell phone towers scattered around Phnom Penh and the countryside.

The total value of the assets was reportedly worth more than $107 million, but they sold to Chinese-owned Khmer Unity Network Communicate Co Ltd for no more than $10 million in August, freeing up funds to repay workers, while making it conspicuously more difficult to meet the demands of corporate creditors.

Despite the intermittent wage payments, the money can't replace a steady income. Prior to the bankruptcy, some workers had even taken out bank loans to buy a house.

While waiting to collect yesterday, Ma Sovanmady, who worked in telemarketing for Mfone, said her life had taken a "very difficult" turn since she lost her $150 per-month paycheck last year. The 33-year-old had been on two months maternity leave, and was due to return to work the day Mfone confirmed it was shutting down.

"Now, I have to depend solely on my husband's wage while I am staying at home looking after my child. Life is worse than it was before," she said.

Two ex-Mfone employees picking up their money yesterday have gone down different paths.

Nuth Sotha, 33, who once earned $300 per month maintaining the company's network infrastructure, has become a farmer.

"I have decided to stay and try to make a living in Kampong Cham. It will be significantly less, but I want to be close to my family," Sotha said.

He is anxiously awaiting the remaining 30 per cent of $4,415 in compensation he is owed as he and his wife prepare for the arrival of their first child in the next couple of months.

"The company never assisted us in finding new work after the bankruptcy. To be honest, [I think] they are only compensating us after we protested," he said, referring to demonstrations that took place months after the bankruptcy occurred.

Loas Sokha, however, stayed in the telecommunications industry. He worked for Mfone for four years as a sim card salesman before getting the news that his job and the company he worked for no longer existed. After three months of unemployment, he managed to find work with telecommunications firm Mobitel. Still, the transition was not an easy one.

"Mfone never warned us of the issues they were having or that we should consider finding other work," he said. "I guess, at the time, I tried to comfort myself by telling myself nothing in life was certain."

Mfone worker representative Pang Vuthy estimates that about 80 per cent of all former personnel had found some type of employment, albeit on lower salaries.

"Many faced – and still face – financial problems due to urgently having to pick up work after the bankruptcy. Young workers, less than 35 years old, have found other jobs more easily, while older workers found it much harder and started new ventures."

Vuthy called on the bankruptcy administrator to speed up the compensation allotments in order to assist those still battling unemployment.

"If they can pay us quickly, I think it will be a big help for those who are still jobless or trying to run their own businesses," he said.

Ouk Ry, the administrator, said yesterday that the final payment will be made by the end of March.

A lawyer for Mfone, who was brought in after the company filed for bankruptcy, said yesterday he didn't know if employees were notified or if transition programs were in place.

With her clothing shop at the Russian market, Somaly counts herself among the lucky few.

"I make more revenue than I ever used to at Mfone," she said, adding that she still felt some nostalgia for her former job."I miss that place. We always thought of Mfone as our home. But now, I am building a new life."

ADDITIONAL REPORTING BY MAY KUNMAKARA

Sothea Ines, 24, scooped the top prize at the Tropfest South East Asia short film festival in Malaysia late last month. Her seven-minute film, Rice, takes place in a children's camp during the Khmer Rouge regime. Monochrome footage follows young orphans as they struggle to stave off hunger. Ines spoke to Marta Soszynska about how she plans to use the prize trip to Los Angeles and why she chose to make a fiction film about the Khmer Rouge.

How did you become involved in filmmaking?
I studied media and management, and on this course we have practice and we need to see what is a good shot, and things like that. I thought, 'this is so cool, it's a new toy'. I'm into it.

What were the films about that you made before this?
The first one was about protest in Cambodia, and the second one is children in a dump site in Siem Reap.

Why did you switch from documentary to fiction filmmaking?
I was doing my research on the story itself about the victims, and the children who were the victims at that time, and then when Tropfest came I got the chance to tell myself to give it a try to make this happen.

You didn't grow up under the Khmer Rouge, so why did you want to make a film about that time?
One thing is when I was a child my mum always told us that we were so lucky, the children, that we had enough to eat, freedom to go to school, no violence and all that. So since then, we are like 'yeah, we're so lucky', but I didn't really understand that, I didn't really get what was so difficult at that time. I was talking to some of the victims, some of their friends. I watched those films that have been made, Lost Loves, The Missing Picture. Actually, The Missing Picture was made before my film.

Why did you want to make the film silent and in black and white?
It was the time of silence. Silence meant that people needed to listen to Angkar, the Khmer Rouge organisation, so when they said bad things about them they were shut down, or killed. So there was not free expression, so it's a silent era. And black and white, because at the time, it was almost 40 years ago so I wanted to take the flavour of 40 years ago, like the footage that I watched in the archive centre.

Have your family and friends ever questioned your decision to become a filmmaker?
It was very challenging because none of my family are in media or film production, they were kind of [wondering] what am I doing, I should be working in an office with the air conditioning as an accountant and all that. I should enjoy life with air-conditioning. Another challenging thing is that I'm not so good at technical, lighting and camera-work and all that. It's tough, but I think as long as I have the story to tell, the camera-work is OK.

Part of your prize is to go to Los Angeles. What do you hope to gain from that trip?
I think I could learn from the Hollywood directors who have directed for a long time, so probably get their ideas and creativity and inject it into myself.

A 19-year-old political activist who amassed hundreds of thousands of followers on social media has been at the centre of controversy this week. Bennett Murray heard her side of the story.

Controversy surrounding Thy Sovantha, a high school student and political activist who rose to fame on social media last year for her anti-government rhetoric, has generated an online firestorm that has spilled into the real world.

With more than 200,000 Facebook followers, the 19-year-old's posts are so widely read that she even provoked an official response from the opposition Cambodia National Rescue Party last Saturday after she incorrectly posted on Facebook that Sam Rainsy had filed charges against Hun Sen in the International Criminal Court (Rainsy had actually announced that a nonaffiliated US-based activist was planning to file charges). A party statement emphasised that she is not associated with the CNRP.

Sovantha's life has also been physically threatened. The week before, a leaked copy of her passport application appeared on Facebook.

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It was accompanied with threats to scald Sovantha to death with acid for her pro-CNRP views.

While opposition party representatives declined to comment on Sovantha's case on Wednesday, only stressing that she is not affiliated with the party, Kem Monovithya, CNRP deputy head of public affairs, referred questions to Eng Ponlork, co-founder of the Facebook page I Love Cambodia Hot News, where Sovantha had been a frequent poster before starting her own page titled Thy Sovantha. Although he only offered hearsay as evidence, Ponlork told 7Days that he is positive that Sovantha is a government spy.

"No one can hide the truth forever," he said in a telephone interview from the US, where he is currently based. "Her dignity will fall day to day when that information breaks to the public."

But Kim Sovannarith, another co-founder of I Love Cambodia Hot News, said that Sovantha meant well but is being manipulated by a pro-government friend, Phe Sovannarith, who ostensibly renounced the ruling party.

Sovannarith was out of the country and could not be reached for comment.

Sovantha spoke to 7Days about her family's rise from poverty, her social media career and the maturation of her politics.

Tell us about your upbringing?
I moved to Phnom Penh around 2002. When I was in Kampong Cham, my parents were gold sellers. When I was a kid, they always communicated with each other, like my grandparents, and they talked about politics, but they could not show their knowledge to everyone, because they were afraid. My parents are now traders. We just order from China and sell to the factories.

Why do you support the opposition?
When I turned 18 years old I had to choose one party that has a good leader in that party, to lead us for development. I support the CNRP, because they can develop our country. For our students, our farmers, our police, our workers, I can agree with [CNRP]. Especially in Cambodia, the farmers grow rice, so they want rice expensive because they really work hard. And right now, rice is cheap, so it is not cool.

What can you accomplish by supporting the opposition?
Some people call me a little girl, so I want to show them that I am young, I am a woman but I can show my braveness. So you are men, you are older than me, so you have to be brave and join altogether for our country.

Why do people accuse you of being a spy?
I don't know, but for me I still respect [them]. I will continue my actions and continue to follow my mind and follow my country. I think one day they will understand. I don't have to judge other people back.
No matter how they are confused, I know what I am doing I am doing for our country, so no matter. Everything I do [is] not for the power of CNRP. I do not want any power from CNRP, but I want to show my braveness and support to CNRP.

They say that one of your friends and fellow activists, Phe Sovannarith, supports the CPP. Is that true?
I'm not working with him. CNRP people hate him because before he worked for CPP. I told him "last time you are wrong, you are bad. Before you supported CPP. But now you have changed. I support you to continue your good action. It is good for our country." I want to tell all CPP supporters to wake up. He stopped supporting Mr Hun Sen, so for me, if you're wrong, you can change your mind to be a good person.

What do you say to those who call you a spy?
If you judge other people without evidence, how do you feel when everyone judges you? They say I have a modern car, modern technology to use, and I am too young. I say I reject Hun Sen, they don't believe my actions. They say maybe I am a spy. But are [accusations] good for CNRP or good for CPP? That is my question only.

Last week, someone posted your leaked passport application on Facebook and threatened your life. Are you scared?
No. I chose that I wanted to become a politician, and I know already it is dangerous, but I think it is the only choice. It is better to die for your country than to live a selfish life.

Many Cambodians who excavated the temples have gone without credit - and the problem continues today, some argue

When people think of archaeology in Cambodia, names like Henri Mouhot, who popularised the Angkorian temples through his journals, might spring to mind. Those in the know might think of Etienne Aymonier, the first archaeologist to systematically survey the ruins of the Khmer empire, or Lunet de Lajonquiere, who carefully created an inventory of the temples.

But little thought has been given to the Cambodian people who played an integral role in helping them with their work. That is, until the annual Indo-Pacific Prehistory Association (IPPA) conference in Siem Reap a couple of weeks ago, when archaeologist Heng Piphal gave a presentation entitled 'Invisible Cambodians', telling the story of the labourers, assistants and archaeologists who helped the French during the Protectorate period and beyond.

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Speaking on the phone from Siem Reap two weeks after the conference, Piphal spoke of the many books that talk about French explorers and conservators in Angkor but which fail to acknowledge the Cambodian involvement. He said: "My presentation was to highlight how Cambodians have been involved since the beginning."

In his presentation, which was partly based on findings from Penny Edwards' book Cambodge: The Cultivation of a Nation, 1860 - 1945, Piphal showed photographs which he collected from the École française d'Extrême-Orient – the French institute concerned with the study of Asian societies – showing Cambodian labourers and assistants who helped the French to excavate the temples. In the images, Cambodian labourers are seen on excavation sites with spades, and looking at equipment with the French. Piphal, who is a PhD student at the University of Hawaii, and currently in Siem Reap for fieldwork, said: "You're always seeing Cambodians, either coolies, paid labourers or assistants to the conservators, but most of their names have never been mentioned."

He added that although some of these names would be in original archived daily reports by French conservators – which have never been published – they were never credited in French publications. He said: "You've got to really sift through information to find them – you have to take up the original report to find their names, otherwise they don't really exist."

He also referenced a notebook found in the Musée Guimet in Paris which contained scribblings about a trip to Laos by a colleague of Aymonier's – a Cambodian named Ros. He said: "Aymonier based his book on this notebook."

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He added that they weren't just labourers or "coolies" – some Cambodians would be in charge of teams carrying out excavation and restoration work. "Their boss only went to check on them once or twice a day, but most of them would excavate and they would report to their boss on what was going on," he said. He added that records show that excavation work on the central tower of Angkor Wat in the early 1930s was done by a Cambodian who then reported his findings to his French superior.

Furthermore, none of the French leaders of the excavation teams were actually formally trained archaeologists, he said. "When they worked at Angkor they trained themselves to become archaeologists, but they weren't archaeologists by trade."He added that the first archaeologist in charge of Angkor conservation was Bernard Philippe Groslier during the 1960s.

So why were so many Cambodians erased from their own history? An obvious answer might be that it was down to colonial power structures. In his presentation, Piphal highlighted what he calls "the idea of colonial legitimacy" – the importance of making the French protectorate seem legitimate in the eyes of the French public – as a reason for the French erasing Cambodian workers from publications. "To provide legitimacy to the French public, you have to make a good case that the French Protectorate was here for a good reason, and one of those reasons was to help restore Angkor Wat," he said.

But Piphal doesn't want to, as he calls it, "blame the foreigners." He believes it is crucial to take into account the "social setting around the archaeological practice in Cambodia". Firstly, a lack of formal education made it hard for Cambodians to get involved in the archaeological work itself, he said. Before the French arrived, there was no formal instruction in archaeology or even understanding about how the Angkorian temples were built. As a result, even if the work of Cambodian archaeologists had been documented, it would have been unlikely to have been read by many in the Kingdom. Piphal said: "If Cambodians wanted to publish records for example of travels around Cambodia and Laos and Thailand, it would be very unlikely that other Cambodians would read it in the sense that the education system doesn't favour archaeological work that much. If those Cambodians wrote something very detailed about the history or archaeology of Cambodia, not many Cambodians would read it."

Son Soubert, an archaeology lecturer at the Faculty of Archaeology in Phnom Penh, agreed that Cambodians at the time did not have archaeological training. He said: "The first batch of archaeologists formed at the Faculty of Archaeology was after independence when [King Father Norodom] Sihanouk created all these universities."

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He said that had Cambodians been mentioned in the archaeological publications, professors and students at the Faculty would have been interested in deciphering who was involved in the excavations.

Soubert studied archaeology and classics at the Sorbonne in Paris during the 1960s and 1970s, and also spent time researching at the Department of Indology in the French Institute of Pondicherry, India, which had been colonised by the French. He said that unlike here, at the Institute in Pondicherry, Indian scholars or pandits were mentioned in publications. Of their Cambodian counterparts, he said: "I guess you can say that they were invisible Cambodians."

Piphal draws links between the "invisible Cambodians" and what the political philosopher Adam Smith referred to as "invisible hands" of labourers in any capitalist system. He said: "You can look at the invisible hands within a factory chain, so you get the products from the factories but you don't know who made them – the workers become invisible in that sense."

From their "invisible" status during the French Protectorate period up to today, Cambodians have had a rough ride when it comes to archaeology. In 1965 the Royal University of Fine Arts was established in Phnom Penh, including a Faculty of Archaeology.

However like all of the Kingdom's academic and artistic institutions, its original glory years were cut short within a decade due to civil war and the Khmer Rouge regime. Piphal said there were only two or three who graduated from the Faculty's first batch, and the next generation were mostly killed off by the Khmer Rouge. After Pol Pot's regime was over, he said, there were only three Cambodian archaeologists left.

HE Chuch Phoeurn – one of the Cambodians to survive the Khmer Rouge era, who now works at the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts – re-opened the Faculty in 1989, with help from Cambodians in France, French professors and a UNESCO project that hired international professors from France, Japan and the United States to teach there. Son Soubert returned to Phnom Penh from France in 1991, and began teaching at the Faculty in 1993.

Now, Piphal said, Cambodia's archaeology sector is very much finding its feet. The IPPA conference hosted 700 international speakers, including Cambodians. Piphal referred to the conference as a "good example of a solid team of Cambodian archaeologists".

However, according to Piphal, 'Invisible Cambodians' is far from being a phenomenon of the past. Even today, he said, a neo-colonial attitude still prevails, and international excavation projects will fail to mention in public reports the Cambodians who worked on them. He knows several people, he said, who have given their archaeological expertise to these projects, but have not been recognised. He said: "It's the same pattern as we've seen with the colonial period – if you read the reports from the institutions, most Cambodians are absent."

He added: "That just reproduces the idea that Cambodians don't know enough, and that Cambodian cultural heritage needs to be saved by international projects. I think this creates the image of Cambodians being incapable of researching or restoring their own heritage."

Phon Kaseka, who is the director of the Archaeology Department at the Royal Academy of Cambodia and who organised the IPPA conference, agreed, saying that sometimes, "Cambodians are not appreciated by these foreigners."

Piphal also said that although there are now many Cambodians graduating from the Faculty and working for the Apsara Authority, the Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts, or the National Authority of Preah Vihear, none of them are project directors.

He said: "I think they have enough capability to work on their own. I think it's about time to have Cambodian project directors in Angkor."

Among the exotic wildlife that prowls Cambodia's forests are large furry creatures that may be far more familiar to European and North American visitors than the ever-dwindling populations of large cats and beastly elephants. The Kingdom's bears climb trees and devour honey just like their Western counterparts, but their existence is under threat from human encroachment.

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"Unfortunately, a big amount of them are sold to restaurants for bear paw soup or for Chinese medicine," said Vuthy Choun, country director for the Australia-based Free the Bears conservation NGO.

He estimates that fewer than 1,000 bears remain in Cambodia. While some of the bears are sold for their body parts, others fall victim to the illegal pet trade.

"Some people buy bear cubs when they are young, and they keep them as pets in their house or garden," said Chuon, adding that wealthy people sometimes keep bears as status symbols.

"But generally when the bears grow into adults, the bears start to fight them and they always get hurt by bears and their furniture gets ripped out by bears."

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When bears are rescued from human detainment, either because they were confiscated from the owners or voluntarily surrendered when they became too much to handle, Free the Bears takes them in at their centre at Phnom Tamao Zoological Park and Wildlife Rescue Centre in Takeo province. Having operated in conjunction with the Forestry Administration since it opened in 1997, the refuge is now home to 130 bears.

Choun estimates that they receive around one bear per month on average, with spikes occurring after mating season when cubs are born and subsequently targeted by poachers. A total of eight bears were rescued last year, with one five-week period yielding four individuals.

Brandy

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Brandy, a 19-year-old Asiatic black bear (also known as a moon bear) who weighs 135 kilograms has lived with Free the Bears since she was rescued from a Kampot palm oil plantation in 1999. Her owner donated her to the centre aged five, when he could no longer bring her out of her cage for fear of being mauled. Unlike most moon bears, Brandy has a benign genetic abnormality which gave her a blonde coat.

Asiatic black bears, closely related to the North American black bear, are the rarer of Cambodia's two bear species and only live in the Cardamom mountains. Outside the country, they live across East Asia and north towards Siberia. Only 35 of the centre's 130 bears are moon bears, and there have been no new arrivals since 2008.

Moon bears are also at great risk of being captured and killed for use in Chinese medicine due to their desirable gall bladders, which contain a chemical with analgesic qualities similar to aspirin or paracetamol.

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"You don't need to kill a bear for one Panadol," said Free the Bears zookeeper Anuradha Jayasinghe, adding that poachers in Cambodia smuggle captured bears to Vietnam, where some 3,500 bear bile farms operate. On such farms, the bears are either killed outright or "milked" by inserting tubes into their abdomens several times a day.

Hefty

Hefty, a five-year-old Malayan sun bear, was rescued last Valentine's Day after being discovered in a Kandal garment factory. After the factory's Singaporean owner abruptly fled Cambodia after going bankrupt, two bears were found on the premises locked in cages. With thousands of factory workers giving scraps of food to the bears, Hefty was found weighing 144 kilograms, so obese that he was mostly immobilised. His cellmate, Ellie B, meanwhile, was emaciated.

"[Hefty] was bigger, so he'd fill up his stomach and leave no food for the female," said Choun, adding that obesity had rendered Hefty immobile.

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Although Hefty has been on a diet since he arrived at the centre a year ago, he is still a little overweight at 85 kilograms.

Sun bears are the more prevalent of Cambodia's two native species, with 95 of the centre's 130 bears falling into the category. As one of the world's smallest bear species, the average sun bear weighs only 80 kilograms. The Malayan sun bear's roaming ground includes much of Indochina plus Sumatra, while its cousin, the Borneo sun bear, only lives in Borneo.

174

Free the Bears' newest arrival is a five-month-old sun bear which was donated last December by a military police commander in Ratanakiri. Currently known only as 174, indicating that she is the 174th bear to arrive at the centre, she is awaiting a sponsor to give her a proper name.

When the cub became too large for the commander, he turned her over to a mobile wildlife rescue unit operated by Wildlife Alliance, the Forestry Administration and the Military Police. Her diet of watered-down condensed milk had left her undernourished.

"Before you could tell her apart from the other cubs just by her colour," said Jayasinghe, adding that malnourishment made her fur a reddish brown.

Since most poachers kill mother bears before taking their babies alive, the majority of bears enter the sanctuary as cubs. Although their stories are sad, Jayasinghe said, the silver lining is that the centre has an easier time rehabilitating them.

"They normally have health problems, but behaviourally they're not screwed up yet."

The cost of naming a bear is A$3,000 ($2,665), which includes a full year of bear support. ​

Of the films up for an Oscar alongside Rithy Panh's The Missing Picture, Belgium's offering is one of the most impressive, finds Emily Wight.

Most people wouldn't associate bluegrass music with Belgium. A sub-genre of American country music, its influences are in Celtic folk songs, as well as some blues and jazz. Bill Monroe, its most famous figurehead, is from Kentucky.

Why, then, are bluegrass bands now springing up around Belgium? One of the men who can be credited for this is Johan Heldenbergh. A long-time fan of bluegrass, he co-wrote the stage play Broken Circle Breakdown and stars in Felix van Groeningen's film adaptation of the same name, which has been well-received in Belgium, and nominated for an Oscar in the Best Foreign Language Film category.

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In Broken Circle Breakdown, Heldenbergh plays Didier, one half of a bluegrass-singing couple whose relationship – and its demise –is played out alongside footage of rehearsals, performances, and an original score by improvisational musician Bjorn Eriksson. It is the music that unites him with the tattoo artist Elise – played with a delicate conviction by Veerle Baetens – as on their first meeting in her tattoo parlour, they argue over whether Monroe or Elvis Presley is the greater musician. Elise goes to watch Didier perform with his band, and gets sucked into both his music and his life.

The film is first and foremost a very human love story, but it is also a love letter to America. In fact, if it wasn't for the Flemish language, you might be forgiven for assuming it was an American production. In what is almost some kind of parody of the American dream, Elise strips down to a stars and stripes bikini and writhes around on the bonnet of Didier's car; the pair rides horses naked but for cowboy hats and boots. In one episode, the camera moves past a family scene to focus on a television screen broadcasting footage of the 9/11 attacks, followed by a speech by George Bush which he ends with the ubiquitous line "God Bless America". Ostensibly, this feels odd, but it is part and parcel of the American imagery that builds up to Elise having to remind Didier, after his angry reaction to another speech by Bush, that they don't live in the United States. It's almost as if she's reminding the audience, perhaps deterred by the all-American sounding bluegrass soundtrack, too. While at first the Americana theme feels slightly bizarre, it seems like an attempt by Heldenbergh and van Groeningen to highlight the universality of the human experience, rather than to express an Americaphile sycophancy.

The non-linear structure of Broken Circle Breakdown is critical to its intrigue. We begin the film in 2006, when Didier and Elise are visiting their sick daughter, Maybelle, in hospital. The film follows the effects of her suffering on the pair as they attempt to deal with their grief in separate ways. Juxtaposed against this unravelling heartbreak are scenes that celebrate their love: the first time Elise watches Didier perform, urgent sex, a marriage proposal, preparation for the birth of their child. This technique is not new: Broken Circle Breakdown is in many ways similar to Derek Cianfrance's Blue Valentine. It even contains echoes of Michael Gondry's Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and François Ozon's 5x2, which tells the story of a divorce backwards. However the continuous bluegrass soundtrack provides a constant thread that ties the otherwise disjointed scenes together, and the film's theme song Will The Circle Be Unbroken? is a nod to the chaotic structure as well as to Didier and Elise's relationship. The story is also played out on Elise's body, which is covered in tattoos that refer to important events – and men – in her life.

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Broken Circle Breakdown is not a film that will cheer you up. Its light-hearted shots of a couple falling in love only make the rest of the plot more heartbreaking and the tragic ending in particular almost unbearable to watch. Some critics have labelled it melodramatic, but its jolly bluegrass soundtrack and flashing footage of happier times provides a blunt contrast that reminds the viewer of the arbitrary and unfair nature of life.

Adding to the raw intensity of the film is the fantastic acting and extraordinary chemistry of Heldenbergh and Baetens. Heldenbergh's big, bearded Didier towers physically over the bird-like fragility of Baetens, but it is her powerful presence that fills the screen, in her love, grief, anger, and onstage performances. Her delicate, all-American blondeness, and Baetens' ability to deconstruct this in one simple line or gesture, is reminiscent of Reese Witherspoon in Walk the Line, Robin Wright Penn in Forrest Gump, even January Jones as Betty Draper in Mad Men. In Belgium, Baetens is well-known for her lead role in the popular TV series Sara, but in Broken Circle Breakdown she will no doubt catch the eyes of international filmmakers. If this film deserves credit for one thing, it is for providing her with a breakthrough role.