Postcard from Cambodia

This video by Asia Media Lab has been circulating around the past few days; it's a captivating and thoughtful display of snippets of daily life across Cambodia. There are so many times I want to capture a moment in time here, and send it back home to share... Also, it's looking like my mom and her best friend are going to come out to this neck of the woods soon, so I hope this gets you both excited for your journey!

Another Dairy Adventure

A few weeks ago, riding a wave of confidence from my yogurt-making success, I decided to step up my game and try making another dairy favorite: ricotta cheese. Like yogurt, cheese is really not part of the local cuisine here in Cambodia, and as it is not readily available it can be quite expensive where it is sold.

During some routine data analysis at work the other day, I was able to quantify just how much dairy is consumed here compared to other food groups. One set of data showed that of 1,134 children, only 10.9% had consumed any milk product in the last 24 hours; whereas 99.6% had consumed rice, 94.8% had consumed fresh or dried fish, and 58.1% had consumed some kind of fruit or vegetable. Additionally, almost half of the families in this study reported that they never buy milk products. In comparison to other foods, dairy is pretty low on the scale of diet preferences for Cambodians. This makes a lot of sense given that, according to some studies,* lactose intolerance is more prevalent in this part of the world and milk is not traditionally part of the diet. I, however, am from the heavily cow-populated, dairy-obsessed land of the Upper Midwest. At the Minnesota State Fair, we have an entire building (okay, a barn) dedicated to dairy products. We have a Butter Princess crowned each year, who has her very own bust carved out from a giant block of butter. And then there is the All-You-Can-Drink-For-25cents Milk Booth. Growing up in this dairy culture, I definitely consumed a milk product at least once a day, much like most Cambodian children consume a fish product at least once a day, given that they grow up surrounded by streams, rivers and the ocean.

The idea of making ricotta was at first intimidating, but it is probably one of the simplest recipes I've ever followed. And unlike yogurt, you get to eat the results almost right away. To enjoy your own homemade ricotta, follow these simple steps:

-- Heat up 4 cups of whole milk + cream on the stove. You can use all milk, but the outcome will be less rich and creamy. And your milk to cream ratio should be no more than 1 cup cream : 3 cups whole milk.

-- Heat until the mixture begins to get frothy, kind of like a latte. Try not to let it boil. You can see how it is getting there in the picture above.


-- While you are waiting for the milk/cream to heat up, squeeze out 3 tablespoons to juice from limes or lemons. Make sure you don't have seeds in your juice.


-- Once your milk is hot enough, turn off and remove from heat. Pour in the lemon/lime juice and stir 2-3 times slowly and gently. You will start to see some curds within seconds.

-- Let the mixture sit undisturbed for 5 minutes. While it's sitting, line a sieve with 2-3 layers of cheesecloth and put over a big bowl.

-- Nest, pour the mixture (which is now curdled) into the cheese-clothed sieve. Let it sit for 1 hour. All the whey will drain into the bowl and you can throw this away. Some people keep their whey, but I'm still not sure what you can do with it. If you have any ideas, let me know!



-- After letting it sit, scrap ricotta from cheese cloth into container for saving, or eat right away.


* Sahi T 1994 Genetics and epidemiology of adult-type hypolactasia. Scand J Gastroenterol 202:7–20.

Change in Plans: Crazy for Cambodia

I am coming upon completing my 7th month here in Cambodia, and time has been passing at an alarmingly swift rate. When I began this blog, I mentioned that this position would take me to 3 different countries over a span of two years, but there has been a slight change in this plan...

After arriving and discussing my work plan with the office here, it become clear that 6 months was a very tight timeframe to design/finalize research plans, collect data, transcribe/enter/clean/analyze this data, write up reports and present findings for several studies. Additionally, being here for 6 months would leave me with only 4.5 months in my next location, making it an even tighter schedule there. So, while I was incredibly excited about being in completely different geography for part of this year, it ultimately made the most sense for me to stay put.

This has turned out to be a fantastic decision because though all the data has been collected for the 3 studies I'm working on, I've only begun analysis and write-up. Additionally, I've fallen in love with Cambodia, the city of Phnom Penh, the projects I'm working on, and my co-workers. This is a truly beautiful and wondrous part of the world and I feel quite lucky to have the opportunity to be working here.

Angkor Wat Run

A few years ago, I began running. This is a simple statement, but given my history of athletic misadventures it is actually something I am really proud of. And after completing my first 10K here in Cambodia, I feel like I can now actually call myself a runner.

I grew up with a lot of encouragement from my dad to get involved in "physical activities," but my success in these activities is pretty funny in retrospect. In elementary school, I played kickball and one game, when it was my turn to step up to the plate, I kicked the ball and broke my ankle. That's right, from just kicking the ball. In high school, I joined the softball team and played as left-fielder. My coach was wise as this position saw little action, so I was safe most of the time. But one game, the opponent's batter hit a grounder to left and it was a my make-or-break moment. The ball tumbled toward me, I picked it up, wheeled back my arm and threw... but let go too late and the ball went straight into the dirt about 2 meters in front of me. The next week I changed positions, and became the "team manager," where my organizational skills were much more beneficial to the team. And running had long been the bane of my existence. Every year of elementary school, our class had to run a mile and I just couldn't make it. We had to make 4 laps around the school, each time dropping a clothespin in a bucket to help us keep track. By the time I was a 4th grader, I was so over this exercise and decided to casually drop two clothespins in at once to reduce my distance. However, when I huffed and puffed across the finish line, first among my classmates, the gym teacher knew something was up. I ended up having to do that 4th lap anyway.

For as long as I can remember, my dad had always been a runner. I never really understood the appeal; he would suit up in his running shorts, shirt and a hat, tie up his laces and set out, only to come back beet-red, sweaty and out-of-breath. But one exam period during university, I was stressed and remember him telling me to try going for a jog to work out some of the exam anxiety. I began doing slow laps around the track at McGill's gym and soon realized I could now actually make a full mile, slowly but surely. And beyond that, my dad was absolutely right. Whether it was the distraction of focusing on just moving my legs one in front of the other, or the rush of endorphins that came from this action, running was leaving me feeling clear-headed and exhilarated.

I began to run more consistently about two years ago. Again, the stress of graduate school combined with an uncertainty about finding a job after graduation led me back to running as a way to "sweat it out." I would rise early in the morning and jog about 1.5 miles through Brooklyn, and come back ready to face the day knowing that I had already accomplished something that, for me, was not easy. It was empowering in a way I hadn't expected.

Before I landed in Cambodia, several people had told me about an annual half-marathon that is held amidst the temples of Angkor Wat in Siem Reap. Feeling like I might be ready to push myself further, I made a resolution to run the 10K portion of this race. My goals were clear: 1) Try to run the whole thing and 2) Try to make it in under 1 hour. And it's fills my heart with joy to say that I accomplished both these goals.

The actual run was one of the most amazing things I've ever done. Everyone lined up outside the entrance to Angkor Wat, and as the starting call was made we all began to move forward as a group. It was early in the morning, the sun had just come up, and the air was cool and damp. I looked to my right to see this incredible temple aglow in the light, and in front of me were a sea of heads bobbing up and down and a jungle beyond. As each runner began to find their own pace, the density of the crowd lessened and I found myself hearing nothing but my breath, the breath of those around me, and the scattered but consistent beat of our feet hitting the road. As if running past the awesome presence of Angkor Wat wasn't enough, our path took us through the gate into Angkor Thom, around the intricate, beautiful temple of Bayon, and beyond.

In addition to the setting, the atmosphere of the race blew me away. The event and all the proceeds are to raise awareness and benefit landmine victims, and many of the 10K runners were amputees running with prosthetics. And they were darn good, whizzing past me time and time again. And as the first runners began to loop back and pass all the runners who trailed them, everyone who was still working towards the halfway mark would cheer and stretch out their hands to high-five and encourage those in the lead. It didn't feel like a race, it felt like this random event made up of people from around the world, and everyone had joined together to complete the run. And this was highlighted by the fact that everyone got a medal, which read: Angkor Wat Run Finisher.* Finishing was what was important.

I get it now, why my dad ran. I'm hooked as well, and it's totally worth being beet-red, sweat-soaked and out-of-breath. :)

* Sidenote: When I got back to my hotel with this medal around my neck, one of the hotel staff ran up to me and said, "You won! You won!" For a split second I thought about saying, "Yes, yes I did!" But ended up letting him know that every runner got one, and I was, sadly, not the winner.

** Credit to the amazing Lucinda (who finished the 3K while 8 months pregnant!) for the photos from the race.