# 126 STORIES FROM THE DUMP, David Fletcher, part # 2

AN ANGEL GIVEN BACK 

Right from my first trip to the dump I noticed a young girl of about 12 years old (it is often difficult to judge age with Asians ) always standing about 2 meters away from me. She never spoke to me but would just smile whenever I glanced her way. She would not get in the line for food, and just stood there alone. Against my better judgement I would always relent and take her an armful of food, ( I tried always to get the children to stand in an orderly line, as there would have been bedlam if I did not ) but she would just stay there, what could I do? I could never turn her away. She would just stay put, close by me and smile, this ritual went on just about every time I went up there.

A couple of years later I had a late night phone call (I hate answering the phone late at night as is invariably bad news). I was told that a young girl at the dump had been killed by one of the trucks that day. They did not give a name! My heart pounded. All the faces of the girls that fitted the description rushed through my head. Next day, for a change, the newspapers reported the death. I won't call it an accident. I will call it indifference to human kind. The truck had sped into the dump so fast it bounced its load of a huge metal casting off and it hit some of the children, killing one and injuring two others. They took her to two hospitals that refused to admit her (no money) by the time they got her to a third hospital, she was dead. The other two children survived thank goodness. I was not surprised at the killing. The whole dump was a disaster waiting to happen.Mix that with indifference and you have certain death. According to the families this happens a lot, we just do not hear about it. I often wonder how many little bodies are underneath that trash heap.

I went to the dump as soon as possible, very fearful of what I was going to hear. But I could get no information on who had been killed.The dump families were tight lipped because the police had been there and had told them to keep quiet, so it all seemed at the time to end there. I did a dump trip a few days later, the usual procedure. The death was paramount in my mind. I was angry because I could not put a face to the victim. As always, feeding 500 hungry children is very all consuming, I kept looking around to see if I could think of a face that was missing, I moved on with my thoughts, I had my hungry children to see to. Then suddenly it hit me like a bolt out of the blue, my little girl was not standing behind me and smiling, I was struck with horror, oh no, not my little girl that stands and waits as usual! She fitted the description! Please no, don't let it be her! But she was missing! I thought I am paranoid perhaps she is just not about today. But I had that nagging feeling in the back of my mind, 6th sense, daft sense, worry, guilt because I had not been there to help her, you name it, I felt it!

Next time I went to the dump I took her photo just in case she was not there, so I could ask someone. I was now getting very desperate and frantic, as well as frustrated because I could get no answers. She was the only one I knew that was missing, but thinking rationally I did not know them all. That did not pacify me. I showed her photo around and everyone shook their heads, they did not want to talk about it. They had been threatened by the authorities of being thrown off the dump if they talked to anyone. I suppose if you looked at it technically, they were trespassing, but in Cambodia nobody gives a monkeys unless it concerns some rich dick that has something to lose! i.e. The authorities! or ' Khmer Riche '

So with a somewhat somber heart I went home trying to adjust myself to the very real possibility my little smiling girl had been killed. My mind was full of 'what ifs'. Many of my friends said I get too close to them emotionally, and in this case yes, and I was paying the price, but how can you not care about them? I had not seen her now for months and I had resigned myself she was indeed the victim and was dead.

A few months later I was at the dump doing my thing, handing out the food, there seemed to be more children  than usual that day, I paused for a moment, I do not know why, I turned around, there on a mound of earth about 2 meters away, smiling her lovely smile, the sun shining through her dark long hair making it look like golden sunlight and a glow all around her was my girl, she was not dead. She's alive! I just stood there for a moment, then I rushed up to her and gave her the biggest hug I dare. She is alive, she is here! She smiled a big giggly smile, she must have thought I was crazy! I was so overjoyed, this was better than winning the lottery. The last few months had been sad, I had thought so many times of her lying dead in that hospital, and I was not there. The terrible issue here is, if it had been a westerner taken to any hospital in Phnom Penh they would have been taken in at once, no question. But here was my girl smiling away and her odd little giggle because I was so pleased to see her. She still did not speak to me, I did not care, she was alive and healthy, that is all that mattered!

I learned later she had gone away to the provinces to stay with family on that fateful day. Just gone for a break which with the circumstances nearly gave me a heart attack!

Before the old dump closed she came up to me and showed me her new baby. She was now a mum. It seemed a hundred years I had known her and the anxiety I had gone through! Some people at the dump could not understand why I was bothered. They said she was a bit simple in the head, I did not care, to me she was my ANGEL GIVEN BACK to me.

BABY DAVID 

I was at the dump one day, and I know, I am always saying this, but after the loss of my wife, this was the only place I felt happy.

A very heavily pregnant girl came up to me and gave me a big hug as most of them did, she was about 26 years old, she looked a little nervous, then she asked me if I could help her? I said of course, if I could. She told me her husband had left her ( the usual story here), she had a little daughter about 4 years old, our mum to be was very frightened because the baby was due and nothing was happening and nobody was going to be there to help her. So as always, I gave her extra food to keep her and the little girl going, I asked her where she lived and I promised I would come and talk with her later that day, and see what we could do for her.

I was discussing her with a good Dutchman friend called Henk, he was a professor, he said he would go out and buy her all the things she would need for the new born baby. Next day Henk was good for his word, his girlfriend turned up with a huge bag full of baby clothes and all the items needed for a new arrival. I took all this up to our mum to be, she was over the moon at all the gifts, and the relief in her eyes was reward enough for me, she could not believe she had been given, so much! She lived in the usual chicken hutch type shack, but it was immaculate, it was so clean and neat, I could not believe it possible, she was trying so hard for her little family, she certainly deserved all the help we could give her. I gave her an extra bag full of food with her baby goodies to keep her going for a few days. I gave her my telephone number and told to call me anytime, she looked so relieved and happy. Just a small thing to us, made such a great difference to the outlook of this lovely little family.

On the next trip to the dump I had the paramedic check her over, he decided the baby was due imminently, and was concerned, he was obviously no expert in these matters but he wanted her to have a scan, which of course she had never had. We had her scanned and this confirmed she was due, but worryingly it was going to be very difficult for her, if not life threatening. I kept calling on her almost daily, taking food and a small present for the little girl, I did not want her to feel left out because of the new baby. A week went by, nothing happened, she was now very uncomfortable indeed. I remember my own wife back in the UK many years before when we had our own children, so I was no stranger to this situation. Our mum was typically very small, as most Khmers, so we took her back to have another scan, I know this seems over the top, but, Khmers are notoriously lax about time and dates, she could be well over due or only just due, so I erred on the side of caution. The baby was due anytime, but she was going to need a 'c section',  it was impossible for her to have the baby naturally. This was  now very scary. She obviously did not have the funds for this, nor did we, I always kept an emergency fund, but this had been depleted recently with various other emergencies. I was greatly worried, we needed this within a few days, I did not have it, but I was determined I would get it one way or another, come what may. This girls life and her baby's life was in the balance of a few hundred dollars. The doctor had arranged the hospital for her in three days time, I was desperate, I was not going to take her to the poor hospital because I had a horrendous experience there once before, it was so horrific it makes my hair stand on end to even think of it now, you can read about this in another chapter called ' Chanda's story'. I had never been so worried, I was running out of time and there were no options.

A very wonderful thing happened! The next day a very lovely English couple came to visit me, they had been to the dump with me two years before and were very supportive, I think very religious to, but this had never been mentioned, thankfully, as you all know by now my feelings about this subject. They had kept in touch with me by email to keep up to date on what the project was doing. The lady was one of the quiet religious people that I told you about before, did not preach or boast, just got on with it and did her thing, keeping a very low profile. She always wanted to help, bless her, whatever her beliefs. She came to the bar that day and said I looked very down, I said things were bit heavy going but did not want to spoil this lovely ladies day with my and my mum-to-be problems. She said ' David, we have raised some money for your project back in England and I have brought it for you to spend as you wish on your children' she said how much did I think she had, I replied $50 would look very good at the moment! She said I have $1400 dollars for you, I nearly burst into tears with relief. We were desperate. Our young mums life was in the balance and along comes some money to solve the problem. This was one of the very few occasions I have asked myself, is there after all a God? And, is he helping me to help my children? This is still something I doubt, when I see my children suffer so, but small acts like this cannot be explained!

I explained to the kind couple, that with their permission I would like to use some of the money for my mum to be. They were happy for me to spend it in any way I wished, in any way to help my families. So next day we went to the dump together, I introduced them to our mum-to-be, and explained that this English couple were going to pay for the hospital to have her baby. She burst into tears and hugged my English saviors. They took our girl to the market and bought her lots of food and anything else she might need. Our couple was so pleased they could see their money going to do good things at once, as we always do on our project, we try to get the job done, these children are hungry now! It needs to be dealt with now!

I thanked them so much for their kindness, they said ' we knew you would make good use of whatever money we brought you and we are so pleased we came at this time'. They said I looked so much better that day than the first day they came, if they only knew! They said ' we know some people are giving you a bad time on the Internet, but please do not give up because of them, please carry on helping those poor people' I could have cried!

The couple had to leave the next day, but said they would return in a couple of weeks, I promised to keep them updated by email and SMS.

I have to tell you, I know I knock a lot of these religious groups that have come to me to sell their 'rice bowl' conditional charity, and I have sent them away with a flea in their ears. You do not give with a condition attached, which is what these groups do. They are not like this wonderful couple that came quietly, got on with the job in hand and left quietly without a 'holier than thou' word! This good couple did not sell their religion, or give help conditionally. They just got on with helping less fortunate people than themselves. They have my total respect, whatever their beliefs! I do hope their God walks with them forever.

The days went by, no baby, so mum goes into hospital, baby delivered safely, mum happy and healthy and little daughter thrilled at having a new brother. Husband had returned for this happy event, so I hoped it might be a reconciliation, who knows? I went to see mum about a week later at home, took food as always, and to check everything was ok. Young mum gives me a huge lingering embarrassing hug,  she said she had given the baby a name, I said oh good, not knowing the procedure in Cambodia for names. She said I have called him 'David' after you. I was so embarrassed, I did not know what to say, this had never happened to me before. Davee had said she wanted to have a boy and wanted to call it after me, this was not to be, even my ex wife in England did not suggest this. I was overwhelmed, I can say no more! 

Our lovely couple returned and I took them to see baby David, we laughed together and said this must be the first Khmer baby called David. I will forever be indebted to this lovely English couple and I shall always think of them when I think of 'baby David'.

# 125 STORIES FROM THE DUMP, by David Fletcher

David Fletcher is writing a book about his experiences in Cambodia.

Here are some extracts from chapter 21, dealing with his experiences working in the Phnom Penh rubbish dump at roughly the same time that Scott Neeson started work there. 

Neeson did not like the idea of competition and so accused Mr Fletcher of grooming young girls. He had no evidence that Mr Fletcher was doing any such thing. It was malice, pure and simple, on the part of a man who saw his opportunity for fame, for glory and for great riches, and was not going to let anyone stand in his way.

CHAPTER 21

STORIES from the DUMP

This chapter is a collection of stories of individual incidents, experiences and impressions of six years working on the dump for these poor forgotten malnourished people, the 530 families and 2000 children.

Every time I visited the dump there was yet another story of heartbreak and hardship. I am sure that many of you kind people that were involved with me and came along and helped, will recognise that you were there at the time and kindly contributed to help alleviate the poverty of these families. These stories are very close to my heart because I was always right in the middle, good, bad, indifferent. I was there and it always pulled my heart strings.

For those that are reading this and remember our efforts, I thank you so much for your kindness and compassion for these children.

THE LITTLE BOY

I noticed a mother carrying a little boy of about five years old to the truck for food just about every time we went to the dump, the boy was small for his age, but this is not unusual for Khmers, especially for a child living on the dump. The mother would come to get a double ration of food, but always carrying the little boy with his legs covered with a blanket. One day the crew asked me to come and have a look at something, it was the boys legs, one of them was severely broken and twisted in four places between his knee and foot, it looked totally mangled. His other leg was very frail and thin because of no muscle, it had never been used because he was not able to walk on his 'good leg' it was skin and bone because the mother had always carried him everywhere. After talking with the mother, I learned that this was yet another case of the K.R. Government not caring for its  people. Apparently the injuries were sustained when he was born. Yet another incompetent doctor untrained, delivered the little boy as a 'breach birth', apparently he pulled and twisted the boys legs to pull him out, in the process braking and destroying one. 

The little boy obviously would never walk without professional treatment, he was condemned to being carried around by his mother until she was too old or weak , then he would have a life, shuffling  around the streets begging on a skate board. The Cambodian government does not provide any medical care or assistance for such cases, despite having billions for mansions, cars, planes and helicopters for so called V.I.P.s and 'khmer Riche' to travel around in. The mother could not speak English and in my ignorance I could not speak Khmer, so through a translator I promised to do what I could for her son, she smiled and gave me a grateful Khmer thank you.

Thinking, later on in the day, my mind went back to the Americans man who came to see me and offered help for the children from the American Embassy, ' if I ever needed help' he said 'call me'. So I did. I explained the situation  and said if there was anything he could do, I would be very grateful. He said he would call me back later that afternoon. The American Embassy, thankfully, was always sympathetic to children in distress, unlike the Australian and British Embassies. The American was good for his word. Wow! An expat that keeps his word! To be fair, this guy had always followed through with his promises, so it is unfair that I should compare him with the majority of pleb expats in Phnom Penh. He arranged for the little boy to visit an American surgeon the next day. He explained the surgery would be free of charge, but we would have to provide the transport to and from the hospital, as they did not have the man power to  do this. He said he did not think it would be a problem for us to do this, he was right! Next day I got the little boy to see the surgeon.

It turned out he was going to need surgery at least four or five times, this was going to be a drain on our funds and resources, but we all chipped in and of course it was well worth it. He finished up having six operations, we covered the cost of the transport and food. We gave the mother extra food each time he came out of hospital so she could stay home with him and nurse him. You cannot get better nursing than mother!

Then came the day for him to take his first steps and try to walk, he arrived at the bar and restaurant straight from the hospital. All the helpers were there for the event, disappointingly not the ' good old boys' Ross Wright, Robin and Tony, who were suffering from hangovers. 

We had bought the little boy a bicycle and we had removed the pedals so he could push himself around to strengthen his legs and feet. His leg was in a plaster cast of course to well above his knee, his mother put him down and he started to cry, not because he was in pain, but because he wanted mothers attention, he stood and took his first steps in his life at six years old, what a wonderful moment for all of us!

This small miracle happened because one guy from the American Embassy had a big heart. I feel proud to have played a small role in making it possible.

Another story from the dump tomorrow

# 124 Some questions a major contributor to CCF might like to ask Scott Neeson

Tim Leissner

Chairman,

South East Asia Division

Goldman Sachs

Dear Mr Leisner

re Scott Neeson and the Cambodian Children’s Fund

Are Scott Neeson and the Cambodian Children’s Fund all that they appear to be, as presented in the glossy brochures, on the CCF website and Facebook pages and the  newspaper and magazine reports that regularly appear?

Is Scott Neeson a secular saint who selflessly gave up his $1 million Hollywood career to help the poor in Cambodia or has he very cleverly created a brilliant narrative for himself that is generating tens of millions of dollars to create his own small empire within Cambodia?

For some months I have run a blog which, amongst other things, raises questions about how the Cambodian Children’s Fund presents itself to the world. How accurate is its self- presentation?

In the writing of this blog I have been accused of being motivated by a hatred of Scott Neeson, of being jealous of him because he has made a success of his life and I have not, and of having a hidden agenda. I have also been personally abused in a number of colourful ways and many attempts have made to ‘shoot the messenger’.

This is all par for the course for any journalist who investigates either an individual or an organization that does not wish to be investigated.

I would not expect you to take anything I write at face value  so have complied a list of questions that you could ask of Scott Neeson if you are interested to know if the money you very generously donate to the Cambodian Children’s Fund is being used wisely and effectively.

It is worth bearing in mind at the outset is that the Cambodian Children’s Fund is not independently monitored in any way. It is a fortress, whose walls cannot be breached by journalists or any other organization that might wish to make an independent assessment of the efficacy of CCF’s programmes. The only information about CCF available to sponsors, donors, journalists and other interested parties is that which is generated by Scott Neeson. Almost without exception, journalists do cut and paste jobs on CCF press releases – all of which tell the story, again and again, of how Mr Neeson gave up his multi-million dollar Hollywood lifestyle to help the poor in Cambodia.

Especially given Scott Neeson’s background in marketing films in Hollywood I believe that his having total control over the Scott Neeson/CCF narrative is significant

QUESTIONS

1. Mr Neeson, how much does it cost the Cambodian Children’s Fund to provide residential care and education for one child for one year?

Mr Neeson’s response will $4,000. If, for some reason it is not, you may wish to consult the Cambodian Children’s Fund 2013 IRS tax return in which you will find the following:

https://www.cambodianchildrensfund.org/images/stories/financial/CCF_990_Form_2013.pdf

More detailed questions regarding funding can be found at:

http://cambodia440.blogspot.com/2015/02/96-message-for-heather-graham-re.html

2. Mr Neeson, what is the per capita income for a family on Cambodia?

If Mr Neeson uses the World Bank as a reference he will reply, $1,040.

You may be aware, Mr Leisner, that the wages paid to factory workers in Cambodia hover around $100 per month. The wages for men and women in the service industry hover between $70 and $90 a month. A school teacher is doing well if s/he earns $140 a month.

Take a hypothetical family struggling to survive on two average incomes - a monthly income of $200 a month. Or $2,400 per annum. Bearing this figure in mind, another question for Mr Neeson:

3. Mr Neeson, how do you explain, or justify, spending $4,000 to keep one child in institutional care when this is close to twice the amount of money a family with two full-time wage earners makes in a year? Would it not make more sense, from an economic point of view, to be helping these materially poor children within their families (and in so doing help the entire family) rather than extracting one member of the family and helping him or her at a cost of $4,000 per year?

4. Mr Neeson, do each of the children CCF spends $4,000 a year accommodating and educating get to sleep at night in their own bed? Or must they share their bed with another child? Perhaps more than one other child. Is there any truth to the rumour that children in CCF residential care sleep in dormitories between 2 and 4 children per bed? Is it true that even boys in their late teens must share beds with each other.

5. Mr Neeson, when siblings are taken into care by CCF are they separated from each other according to their sex and age? In other words, are brothers and sisters separated? Are bothers and brother, sisters and sister, separated if there is a substantial difference in their ages?

6. Mr Neeson, what kind of contractual arrangement does CCF enter into with the parents of children who are accepted into CCF’s residential care programme? Could you please provide me with a copy of the pro forma contract? Once parents have applied their thumb prints to these contracts are they then allowed to keep a copy of it? If not, why not?

7. If the parents decide, having signed the CCF pro forma contract, that they want their children returned to their care, does CCF abide by their wishes? Have there been instances in which CCF has refused to return children and cited to the parents that CCF is under no obligation to do so as a result of the contract they have signed?

8. Mr Neeson, in the case of those children in residential care, at a cost of $4,000 per year, what financial and other assistance does CCF provide to the remainder of the family? Is it possible that a family with five children in residential care with CCF could generate $20,000 a year in income for CCF (the IRS figure) whilst the mother of these children must support the remainder of her children on the $1,000 she earns in a year working in the rubbish dump?

9. Mr Neeson, it has come to my attention that CCF owns a number of slums that it rents out to the families of children in CCF residential care. Have there been instances in which such materially impoverished families have been locked out of their homes for being $12.50 behind in their rent, whilst CCF is, according to your IRS figures, generating $4,000 a year to take care of each of the children from these families that are in residential care?

10. Mr Neeson, is it true that employees of CCF, under constant CCTV surveillance, must sign non-disclosure contracts that forbid them from talking with anyone (especially the media) about what does on behind closed doors at CCF?

11. Would you be agreeable to allowing a small delegation from your major sponsors the freedom to visit all CCF facilities and to talk with whomsoever we choose – children, and members of staff. If you agree to this, it would be preferable that there be no senior members of staff present, including yourself, as their presence, your presence, may inhibit children and staff from feeling free to speak their minds.

12. Mr Neeson, my final question has to do with he damaging effects of institutionalization on children. Hundreds of reports written over many decades leave no doubt as to the damage done to children who are institutionalized. Can you please explain to me why you believe that the 700+ children CCF has in institutional care, the overwhelming majority of which have families, are not being emotionally and psychologically damaged by the experience?

Whilst I wish to support any efforts made to lift families out of dire poverty I do not want the money I donate to be used in such a way as to break up families, see children institutionalized or to see one child member of a family well provided with food, clothing education and medical assistance whilst the rest of the child’s family receives only the most token of assistance.

***

If you are satisfied with the answers you receive, Tim, you will no doubt continue to support the Cambodian Children’s Fund as generously as you have to date.

best wishes

James Ricketson