America Abroad

Interview at Poipel, 04.08.08 Pin Vannaro was my interpreter and I interviewed the two main workers and students, Chan Thy and San. No oral recording was taken and all answers are paraphrased from notes taken on site. San speaks the most English which is comparable to my Khmer, so I must give special thanks to Vannaro for translating. As Dean of Agriculture he proved invaluable especially when it came to technical terminology.

On the way out there Vannaro and I stopped at the market in Kamchay Mear and I bought a half-kilo of beef (a cow mooed exactly as I typed that sentence ,eerie…), a dozen packets of paprika flavored snack crackers, two heads of garlic, six cans of beer and a packet of vermicelli rice noodles. Later we stopped at a roadside stand and I bought some tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, onions, two cans of herring in tomato sauce (not much fish out here except the tinned variety) and such as a thank you for their time. Later I would find out this would supplement their rations as they buy their own food, and as is Khmer tradition, they share with their guests even if it means they have less or go hungry.

After an hour of riding about 16km over bumpy road on a motorbike, passing kilometer after kilometer of unused rice paddies and through numerous small villages being stared at by most who saw me, we arrived at the test site in Poipel. Not only is the Jatropha project being undertaken out there, but Vannaro is also testing the viability of different grasses on cows and testing their weight gain and stomach parasite content.

I went into this interview with much trepidation as I do still not fully understand the intricacies of the Khmer culture and what bounds I may or may not overstep. I knew some of these questions would be straight forward with straight forward answers but there were some personal questions I was hesitant to ask; comfortableness at the farm, pay (especially since some are earning $100 a month and some only $30, but they do perform different tasks with different amounts of skill and labor input) etc.

1. What is the history of this particular area?

The forest was cut down in 1980 and was fallow until 1999 when the land was donated by farmers to MVU for development. An integrated farming project was initiated by AusAid. The current grass forage project began in 2005 and the Jatropha was started in the summer of 2007.

2. What are the jobs performed out here? (The original questions was ‘How do you see yourselves within this project?’ but was lost in translation.)

Three jobs are performed at the Poipel test site. Chan Thy and San are technical assistants and agricultural students at MVU, there is one security guard and three general workers.

3. Is the project good for Kamchay Mear?

There are no results from the Jatropha yet, so local farmers cannot be taught the benefits at this point. First, labor must be undertaken around the project site to show farmers the benefits of growing and harvesting Jatropha. If there is no profitability, there will be no following.

4. Would you have a different job if not here and would that job pay more or less?

If not for the farm, San would simply be a student at the school of agriculture, some of the others said they would be farmers and some said they wouldn’t be in agriculture. Vegetable farming earns more money but this is permanent work whereas farming is seasonal with the rains.

5. Do you like this work?

“Work here is nice, not difficult; only a seven-and-a-half hour day. We are on salary [guaranteed pay] and don’t pay rent, but we must buy our own food.”

6. Do you feel you are helping MVU, Kamchay Mear or anything/anyone else?

San said he is gaining personal knowledge and will have the skills needed to grow his own Jatropha in the future. Both San and Chan Thy said they not only are they gaining personal knowledge and enrichment, but they are helping the university and will eventually help the farmers. [This is still all very experimental in Kamchay Mear though in parts of Africa and Brazil Jatropha has been very successful. (source that!)]

7. What are the difficulties in working on the farm?

The amount of land is a lot [10 hectares] and there are few workers. The land is also not flat which leads to difficulties such as irrigation. [I later had Vannaro explain this to me and he said it was because if the land isn’t flat, vegetation planted higher up isn’t as close to the water table as vegetation grown on lower land. I would estimate the difference between the low points and the high points to be about two meters. Vannaro also told me when he had the grass land flattened it cost $760 per hectare which would add an additional $7600 to the project and probably result in all of the Jatropha having to be removed. I will ask David this when I interview him.]

This isn’t the best place to grow because of these reasons but it is what they have. The soil is of medium fertility and though it will grow, it won’t grow well. [The plant is hardy, but optimal conditions mean optimal productivity, harvest and profit for MVU and the locals.]

8. What is your pay and is it enough? [The proposal initially requested $30/month per person but that was written three years ago and Cambodia has undergone much economic growth and the current daily wage can be as much as 10,000r ($2.50).]

San says he makes $80 a month and the other workers before made $35 but now make closer to $50.

9. Where do you see Jatropha in Cambodia’s future?

Jatropha will make work for local people, is better than importing fuel from Vietnam or Thailand, cheaper to produce than petrol diesel and is good for people’s health as the emissions are cleaner. [Find out how much cleaner.]

10. How will projects like this help Kamchay Mear and Cambodia as a whole?

This will create jobs and students will have hands-on experience [at the Poipel site] with which they can extend knowledge to local farmers.

11. How much longer and what is needed for this plantation to be at an effective level?

Farm machinery would help automate the work, fences, irrigation, diesel fuel for machines, better tools like spades, axes and hoes, and fertilizer. [I wonder about the irony of needing diesel fuel, fences and fertilizer as those all come from Jatropha.]

One more year is estimated until the plantation is productive. This means they need more money, more workers, machinery and irrigation.

Chan Thy and San know pruning techniques. [This is necessary as Jatropha only grows fruits at the ends of the branches and a plant left to its own devices will only grow one branch.]

11a. Are there enough workers for this land?

No, there is not enough labor. David’s proposal suggested one worker per four hectares, but it is a big job, one person per hectare is better. [Vannaro said 1 ha = 1 person or 4 ha = 2 persons. (Vannaro 04.09.08)]

11b. During the rainy season, are there enough workers needed to provide for the increase in weeds which come up?

Last year during the rainy season that had more workers. Weeders need one or two days to finish the whole plot and they plan on hiring more workers during the rainy season.

12. Is this a sustainable project?

Chemical fertilizers are not sustainable [and damage human health and degrade the land]. One by-product of biodiesel is fertilizer and also cow manure and compost may be used; natural fertilizer is sustainable. [These projects undertaken seem to have an underlying theme of sustainability built into them and it is two-fold; one it saves money using natural products already on hand as the Cambodians have for centuries and continue to do so today in some cases (some food comes wrapped in banana leaves, people weave baskets, build their houses out of bamboo and palm leaves, more out of lack of money than anything else, I don’t see rich Khmers living in thatch huts) and another is for the safety and health of the farmers and workers. Currently, a project is being implemented and information disseminated about ways to protect crops from field mice using plastic barriers, non-lethal traps and growing small ‘attractive-crops’ near the food crops to attract the mice away from the food destined for human consumption.] 

13. Can you use this knowledge and experience to start your own farm?

We can use this information to start our own projects and farms and to teach farmers and trainers these skills.

14. How hard is it for the poor farmers to start a project like this?

It isn’t difficult to start at all. Very poor people with no land can be hired to collect the seeds from plantations or from wild Jatropha [which there is little of as it is only used in fencing and there is no pruning involved].

15. What is holding this project back? What can make the project better? What are the difficulties for this project? [See also question 7]

Some needs at the Poipel site are batteries and fuel. There are no lights just oil lamps. This isn’t an obstacle for the project, but it would make less labor needed and the accommodation more comfortable. There is also no clear planning and there are no storage facilities for tools, they lay scattered about.

15a. Why no clear planning? There is no money available and the work stops. There is no more funding and no more budget, and some activities have stopped. David is now paying out of pocket and he doesn’t believe that some of his workers are working. This is also still in the experimental stages and all of this knowledge is new.

[16 and 17 were combined into 15.]

18. What expectations do you have from this project?

We expect the project to be successful, to have more work and to benefit the land [making it more productive, enriching the soil, etc.].

19. Have you been to the farm in Siem Reap? How is it different?

The Seam Reap project is bigger, but has just started. They are still germinating the seeds. Irrigation tanks are in place but there is no refinery yet built; they are waiting for a refinery to be built.

20. What role will women play in this? [See also my interview with Saran.]

Women can be laborers just like the men. There aren’t any permanent women hired out on the site, but we hire women to harvest, weed, plant [the seedlings] and apply fertilizer. There is no knowledge of soap making [by the local women] but it will be possible.

21. How will Jatropha help the farmer?

Income generation and increased standards of living [will help the farmer].  There is not much work in the dry season but in the wet season there is work. Non-land holders can work and be hired out.

22. Will rural, poor Cambodians be able to afford this? If not, what help will they need?

Small farmers can start up cheaply and large land owners have the money already. No problem in starting up. [Building refineries are expensive and it isn’t feasible for every farmer to have access to the technology and knowledge to run the refinery. This is a whole different level in the four levels of biodiesel production. Thus the farmer and harvesters will sell the seeds to a local refinery.]

23. Have you spread this information on to others? To other farmers? How has the reaction been?

The information has not yet been spread [much,] but farmers near here can already come and see what is happening and learn by example.

24. Is your health or safety at risk working with Jatropha?

No danger in farming [it has been used extensively for fencing in the past and as medicine (source this), only dangerous if eaten] unless chemical fertilizers are used. [There is some danger in the refinery process due to the use of methanol and KOH.]

25. What is the quality of Vietnamese diesel (or petrol) compared to biodiesel? [Ask David]

There is currently no biodiesel produced so no way of testing the quality of MVU biodiesel.

26. Can this land be used to grow anything else?

Vegetables, grass [forage], mango and cassava can be grown here. There is a possibility of intercropping but fertilizing would be necessary to improve soil health. The land adjacent is of the same quality of soil but has been fertilized and has been leveled.

 END OF INTERVIEW

While there, I noticed not much organization and an absence of storage units for supplies. Clothes were hung off of nails or drying on fence-lines but this is normal for rural Cambodia. The workers sleep in hammocks or on wooden beds on mats with mosquito nets, also normal. There was no water purification that I noticed and San drank directly from the hose. I am sure that if the water was harboring anything deadly they would boil the water as that purification method is available to everyone. The men also have no ice box (and I am sure that driving to a source of ice every day would drain them of monetary resources so the food must be tinned or purchased soon before eating; I noticed this when preparing lunch one of the men drove down the road and bought a quarter cup or so of cooking oil) in which to store perishable foods. (Also, the price of things is higher once you get further out due to transportation costs. A cheap bottle of drinking water is 500r in Phnom Penh where it is purified but the same bottle will cost 600r in Chor and 700r in the villages. I am going to venture that I wasn’t paying the barang price because I was with a Khmer who would have said something if the price given was extortionate. Exchange rate is 4000r = $1)

Just before I left, Vannaro asked me if I had additional questions to ask and indeed, I did. I wanted to know if their lives out there were comfortable. San said they lived better than farmers as they were on salary and didn’t have to worry about whether money was coming in or not. San also said they have engine driven pumps [and therefore irrigation, but I am not sure at what level] which poor farmers do not have.

The men out there also work for Vannaro’s forage project and receive income from that, which is paid for from MVU’s budget. [Ask David to be sure.] I watched him give out some money before we left; $60 or so to San, $45 or so to Chan Thy and $5 to another guy. The first time I visited the site I noticed David give the men their salary and an extra $100 to pay locals to come weed the site and $10 for phone cards.

Though the land isn’t too hilly, Vannaro quoted a price of $760 a hectare to level the land. I would estimate the difference in land levels to be only two meters, but growing on uneven land is difficult because of the level of the water table. Plants planted higher up are further from the water and won’t grow as well. He told me the total monthly salary of all men was $300 per month.

The next day, I asked Vannaro which is better, to have the production facilities at Poipel where the Jatropha is grown to optimize localization or to grow Jatropha at MVU. He said it was irrelevant because the distance, 20 km, between wasn’t too far at all. I also asked if there was space at MVU to grow Jatropha and he said no. The school is situated on twenty hectares but there is much open area: some used for a football field though I have seen football played there only once. The rest of the open land is mainly used as grazing ground for cattle and water buffalo. I think it might be possible to grow Jatropha there and enlist the help of students as the land is relatively flat already, in fact, flatter than Poipel. (My own personal opinion is that the students should be required to do maintenance around the school as most are there on scholarship and Cambodians tend to throw rubbish here or there.)

I also asked about landmines in the area and he said there were none, but there were still UXOs from the illegal and immoral American bombing campaign secretly undertaken by Nixon and (Nobel Peace Prize winner [sic] Kissinger to try to stop the Viet Cong from using Cambodia to bring supplies into South Vietnam. Though there are bomb craters, Vannaro said no bombs have actually been found. (Isn’t this contradictory?)

Khem Sath said installation of power grid is not difficult at all. You simply set up poles, insulators, and transformers. Inside the buildings you can install fuse panels and wiring, add a ground so no power surges damage equipment and then connect the grid to the generator. (04.09.08)

Interview with Timofey Chezhov

Timofey Chezhov is an outspoken, well-informed nineteen-year-old film production student who has lived in Petersburg most of his life.

His neutral elucidation of the advantage and shortcoming of new shopping complexes is in concurrence with the general attitude of Petersburg's elderly and middle aged residents.

"Products sold in supermarkets usually don't satisfy my standards for quality, so I frequent small stores that specialize in something concrete. However, I like the accessibility of shopping centers, that all stores are in one location and I can provide for myself without the burden of lengthy trips. The benefits are equal to the disadvantages."

Atypical of youth, Timofey's sensible approach to shopping represents an exception to pervasive materialism.

"If I go shopping it will be for to a practical reason; I always know what I'm going for. I can't go to stores not knowing what I want. I never buy what I don't need."

On the other hand, his wariness of advertising is quite common.

"I never orient upon ads when I choose a product or a product brand because I know how ads are made. Believing advertising means subjecting yourself to the risk of purchasing a poor quality item that doesn't meet one's demands."

Timofey's stark discrediting of contemporary Russian judiciousness is at odds with Appiah's contention regarding consumer rationale.

"I have a very negative opinion of television commercials. Advertising specialists don't consider that people of different ages and with unstable psyches watch television. For Russians, especially pensioners, it is very characteristic to believe all that is said on television. Television serves as the only window into the world for many, and when a person accepts all that is said as indefinite, television possess colossal possibilities to deceive consumers. When there's an ad about a product that's unhealthy and people begin to purchase it en mass, foolish consequences result."

My interviewee's suggestion of a media conspiracy theory is radical yet explanatory of current trends, if not entirely possible in Russia's notoriously corrupt communications network.

"Unfortunately, television commercials are distinguished by poor quality of late. Five, or even three years ago, every roll was adequately professional and artistic, and possessed an unusual idea. They were an original means of distributing information. This isn't so anymore-all commercials are identical and annoying.

The ruling regime utilizes television to increase control over the masses, so directors who contributed properties like freedom of thought and creative inclination were ousted from production. Now all people in television broadcasting meet a few parameters: the first is loyalty to the ruling regime, the second is speed and thrift, so nobody thinks of quality when preparing programs and commercials."

Due to the perversion of unchecked post-Soviet Western cultural influx, Timofey claims that Soviet ideology was of greater comparative benefit to the Russian people.

"Genuine Russian culture hasn't just suffered; it's now on the verge of complete annihilation, increasingly absorbed by mass culture since the collapse of the Soviet Union. I can't find any national traditions or cultural distinctions that are currently secure; everything is questioned, experiencing the strain of a blow. The people who watch television-pensioners, the working class, the uneducated-are consciously ‘zombified,' and youth are becoming primitive through vulgar imitation of Western culture. This would be good if your cultural achievements developed here, but instead they are distorted, and the Russian consumer receives this in very low quality form.

When the Iron Curtain was removed during the perestroika and the West's influence became unhindered, a specific framework was destroyed. The pursuit of quantity and a completely abandoned expansion of the West before the absence Soviet world ideology occurred from this moment on.

Mass culture is an artificial substitute that attempts act as ideology, but it's not intellectual enough. Communist ideology was full fledged; it affected culture and world view. Of course it limited people in some ways, but on the whole I deem it positive because it cultivated a healthy mind and body, didn't let people lower themselves."

He esteems superior technological implementation in Hollywood film production, suggesting that Russian producers should still strive to match this area of accomplishment in American culture. Timofey's mild discontent with Hollywood's cliché film formula is pervasive among all generations of my interviewees.

"The Western grade of special effects is advancement; it captures people, and if this doesn't exist here, no one will watch national films. Hollywood has made incomparable and unsurpassed achievements in technical production. The only thing about it that doesn't suit me is that ideas are lacking, all film concepts are identical."

Though acknowledging that global popular culture largely emanates from America, Timofey, like all of my interview subjects, doesn't deem American culture as exclusively such (popular).

"I don't build my perception of American culture exclusively on films and popular culture; I look deeper. For me American culture isn't Hollywood or contemporary fashion, but American authors, American directors of film classics, etc. Russia isn't acquainted with American culture, but with mass culture, which is made in America."

With Margaret Mead's allegation that studying foreign cultures begets insight into one's native nation (my own bicultural position aside), I'm compelled to question my own understanding of contemporary American culture.

In assessing contemporary popular Russian culture, Timofey expressed a disdain for recently turned substandard national television programming. However, he admitted that modernization of Russian mass media has presented the country's populace with new prospects in both intercultural and domestic human relations.

"Russia didn't have its own television serials for a long time; our television channels bought foreign serials, mostly Latin American ones, for which there was a high demand. Today the market is overloaded, and Russia is now first in quantity of serials filmed per year. Approximately sixty percent of television broadcasts are serials, and these are extremely low quality, quickly made with complete absence of artistic idea and poor implementation of technology. There's no narrative mastery or artistic directorship, and the acting school is degrading.

I like mass culture in that it connects Russia with other countries, that it informs us of what is globally, commonly healthy, popular, and fashionable. Mass culture contributes to the betterment of connections between different cultures and makes dialogue between people of diverging education and levels of refinement accessible, presenting them with terms of communication understandable to both [parties]."

Timofey described a behavioral trend identifying his own generation in the sphere of recreation: the allure of action, which may be ascribed not only to physical capacity but desire for stimulation associated with fast paced, dynamic modern amusements.

"I regularly visit museums and theaters, but I can name very few of my acquaintances who possess such a breadth of perspective and such a diverse understanding of leisure, because the majority of youth don't frequent theaters, are indifferent to museums, and rarely even go to movie theaters. The most popular diversion right now is night clubs, of which there are great variety in Petersburg, so practically all youth go to them. Petersburg is a considerably well-respected city in the sphere of master level DJs; it has the fourth highest quantity in Europe. I think they're [youth] mostly interested in movement, because this is an active amusement, it doesn't entail stationary observation. Thus theaters and museums have become unpopular now, because just watching something is outmoded; people want to act."

His depiction of a middling, homogenous culture instigating conformity implicitly questions whether young adults and/or adolescents take advantage of post-Soviet opportunities to cultivate individuality.

"Popular culture doesn't just have a serious impact on youth; it forms their tastes, perceptions...their entire world view. This can't be beneficial because it detracts from personal intellectual growth and general cultural advancement. People's expectations diminish and are moderated. Mass culture is the greatest inhibitor of a person's individual development; it establishes identical preferences and depth of thought. This leveling raises some and lowers others."

Another transformation Timofey noted from a young adult perspective is the fragmentation of family oriented lifestyle and relationships.

"Moral norms have become quite crude. Though they were problematic in some respects, their breakdown was so strong that principles and family values aren't unanimous. For youth, it's now uncharacteristic to think about their future children or personal health; most have relationships just for sex, not to establish a family."

He also mentioned the decline of time-honored Russian tolerance, implicitly attributed to a sense of financial insecurity.

"Tolerance towards people of different cultures and nationalities should be maintained, because Russians were compelled to exist amongst multitudes of diverging peoples throughout the length of their entire history. Now this is all gradually lost, with illegal immigration and marginalization of former state employees who were turned away by a society that no longer needs them."

As an aspiring film director himself, Timofey believes that maintaining valuable traditions as well as cultural advancement on the whole is the duty of artists.

"The director should have a conceptual intention to express his ideas; he mustn't just prepare his work as a trade, it must be art for him. Television shouldn't slide down to the level of an artisan."

"Cultivation of tradition should be the responsibility of all people who associate themselves with the culture of the Russian intelligentsia-Russian authors, directors, writers. Culture shapes the mentality of people-what they believe, how to act, what to want, what to orient upon in life-and if it purports the right values that correspond with our lifestyle and traditions, this will be beneficial. Russian culture did this for many years; now it's not managing, but all is a question of time that will be decided in one way or another."

Interview with Igor Zaikel

Igor Zaikel, eighteen years of age, is a lifelong Petersburg resident and second year law student engrossed with music, playing in an orchestra and composing his own works on various instruments.

Inhabiting an apartment renovated in the upscale "New Russian" style and dressed in rather trendy attire, Igor alleges he is impartial to shopping, which appears to be an endeavor associated with external social conformity.

"When I need to, I go [shopping], but I'm absolutely not fond of to it. It's more of an obligation that definitely doesn't give me pleasure; there are things that are much more enjoyable.

I'm used to small, neighborhood stores and dislike shopping complexes. It's understandable that there's a large assortment and many purchases can be made at once, which is convenient, but I'm afraid of so many people, chaos-it's too much."

As an art enthusiast, he recognizes the unfulfilled potential of contemporary Russian advertising.

"Commercials can be interesting as a form of art, but this is unusual. What we see here isn't applicable; they're cheap and unattractive. I dislike the triteness and short-sightedness [of commercials]."

Igor frequently enjoys eccentric, modern cultural amusements, utilizing the increased opportunity of indulging in an array of unconventional entertainments my father referred to in his interview.

"I definitely go [to cultural establishments]. On Saturday I saw the play One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest; before that, Anton Carbain's exhibition of photographs came here, and I went. I'm a big fan of cinematography; we have a movie theater called Film House where artistic, less money oriented films are shown."

Like Timofey Chezhov, Igor appreciates the aesthetic appeal of Hollywood film production and has an aversion to warped Russian cinematographic mimicry of the West.

"My opinion of Hollywood films is sufficiently positive, just because I grew up on them. I've watched hundreds of movies and most were Hollywood films, but now that I can decipher better, I like the European style more. However, I definitely watch Hollywood films with pleasure as well.

Sure, within time arises the sensation that some themes have already occurred, that something is repeated, but you can watch a film simply because it's attractive. It's not necessary to seek depth in it; you just enjoy the picture and this is completely enough. Yes, I like Hollywood because what they produce is exceptionally extraneously beautiful.

I broadly appreciate cinematography as a principle; however, I don't like to watch Russian films. This is of course strange and doesn't smell of patriotism, but only in many years can this [cinema] develop into something suitable here. Maybe we just haven't learned how to visually entice an audience, or maybe because we try to copy what we see in the West, but end up with what is distorted and short-sighted. It's not necessary to apply all of these clichés indefinitely; film must be original, and perhaps in this way we have a better chance."

Igor has cultivated his own standards for quality mass media; though he values simple attractiveness, he prefers thought-provoking art in accordance with the time-honored Russian tradition of creative works serving as more then mere diversions.

"If there's something to think about, it's much dearer [voice softens]. In terms of cinema, I like a picture in and of itself, but I consider it pointless if it's empty, if it doesn't bear an idea. It's not important what idea-this can be awful, negative, anything-but if there's an idea, then the author thought about something when he made it, which encourages me to think. ‘I think therefore I am'"

As many of my interview subjects have expressed to various extents, Igor possesses a paradoxical acceptance of and revulsion to the Westernization of post-Soviet Russia.

"Again, I dislike imitation. Any subculture that originated in the West and came to Russia is remade into a negative, incomplete distortion. We need to either integrate our own [culture] or completely implement it [Western culture], so that this doesn't evoke disdain.

I like...simply that it exists. I can't even imagine the absence of Western influence; yes, I love my country and I'm a patriot, but I can't undermine the meaning of mass culture."

Likewise, he articulates the common phenomenon of a people in the midst of rapid cultural transformation unable to explain their experience: "There is something completely unique [in Russian popular culture], but I can't say what. There's this sensation that something [original] exists but is very difficult to describe, probably because I live in it." Nonetheless, Igor contends the primacy of his own self-assertion over mass influence.

"Western culture definitely strongly effects contemporary Russian culture, especially the youth-this is observable, audible. Yes, if I want it [popular culture] to impact me, then it will. The matter is all in my personal preference, so no one can force something upon me. I don't think anything has affected me subconsciously; I have strength of will."

My interviewee hopes the Russian public will eventually embrace what he perceives as the American realization of cultural diversity.

"I'm not acquainted with American culture well enough to judge it. What makes it to Russia is interesting, and some things are worth paying attention to. I like that it [American culture] is diverse, that it comes in absolutely different colors for all aspects of life and opportunities one can encounter.

I won't argue that Russian culture isn't diverse; this just lacks development. Creative youth who are capable of establishing a diverse culture don't have the opportunity to express themselves, so the ideas of the most talented people remain embryonic. Maybe this is currently overlooked because society has less want for inspirational works.

Society should come to the understanding that it must inevitably advance not only in the material realm-work, education-but culture, spirit."

Highly future oriented, Igor deems historical theorization ("...would be had...not been") pointless and evolution inexorable.

"For me this question [of whether Russian culture has suffered] doesn't exist; perhaps yes, it has suffered, but I consider thinking about it at this point as senseless. Riddance of the past is inevitable. I'm not speaking of forgetting our roots, but we must move forward. You can't go far if you continually look back, so we must evolve in all manners; not forget history, but not emphasize it either.

Despite the fact that we live in the European part of Russia, we remain distinct, and this won't allow us to lose tradition. That which must disappear with time will leave, but what makes us unique will remain."

He suggests that society will naturally maintain traditions that are of collective value: "We must be responsible in maintaining who we are. Traditions are society; society gave birth to them, so it will preserve them." Interestingly enough, this young man embodies Sansanyich's claim regarding the traditional prevalence of вера.

"I love where I live. Though I'm not entirely satisfied with what I see, I think we can't completely reject this, we can't stop believing. I believe that our country will progress, that everything will get better. This isn't unpatriotic; it's just this hope, perhaps from the very birth of a person. I'd like living standards to improve, for life to become increasingly similar to that in Europe and the United States."

Interview with Konstantin Filonenko

A physics major who will receive his master's degree this spring as well as an accomplished musician who plays the base in two bands, Konstantin Filonenko, Kostya for short, is a twenty-two-year-old Vladivostok native who has resided in Petersburg for the past six years. He lived in the state of Washington from December 2006 until August 2007 in order to care for his father, who unexpectedly fell seriously ill.

His attitude towards Russia's new shopping complexes indicates the adoption of Western consumer practices on a physical plane counteracted by remnants of the Soviet mindset, from the behavior of customer service personnel to Kostya's own puzzlement.

"I dislike most [shopping centers] primarily because of the service. The clerks and customer service personnel are unfriendly; they orient upon the rules of their company and attempt to limit the customer's freedom, applying a protective reaction before the buyer makes a decision. They should use a customer rights for his service, but here the situation is often opposite from the West. I think this mentality has extended from Soviet times, so it's improving.

Also, the arrangement [of shopping centers] isn't always convenient. There are many completely different things crammed into one huge building, and why all of this is necessary is incomprehensible."

Russia's post-Soviet consumer goods affordable to the general public are still lacking in quality, as revealed through a comparison to Western products.

"I like shopping, but there aren't many stores in which one can buy clothes that please the eye and can be easily found. Most things are very flamboyant but have a low quality appearance. In America shoes look very similar to those sold here, but there they are comfortable, here they're hard and more expensive."

While many of my interview subjects are displeased by the poor quality of most Russian advertising of late, Kostya prefers native ads on account of their cultural accessibility, another relevant feature occasionally mentioned throughout my inquiry.

"I dislike translated Western ads, which I consider repetitive. There have been interesting Russian commercials of late, and I like them more then foreign ones. Many ads imitate [Western advertising], but they fit the reality of our culture."

Though Kostya appreciates Petersburg's artistic heritage, he perceives frequenting cultural establishments as a habit that compromises more pressing responsibilities, in accord with the general consensus that there simply isn't enough time.

"I really love classical music-Shostakovich, Prokofiev, Bach, but rarely go [to cultural establishments] of late because there isn't enough time. Five years ago, I went to the Philarmonia very often, skipping class to go to concerts. Then I understood that I should go to class more often and quit going to the Philarmonia, which I haven't resumed because this has become an inescapable habit."

My interviewee holds that the post-Soviet void in state funding of the arts has reduced participant contribution, although material attributes have advanced. This clearly refers to the epidemic substitution of fiscal contribution for toil.

"I think it [Russian culture] has suffered more from the longtime absence of state funding. After the collapse of the Soviet Union and during the perestroika, actors couldn't make enough money to even feed themselves. For example, there's the renowned story of the actor Kranskov, who became a grave robber in the 90s because he couldn't earn money to survive. The absence of normal living conditions resulted in his health failing, he began to drink, and finally died [prematurely].

In the sphere of television artistry and quality, mass culture has seriously suffered. Less human effort is contributed to the production of programs and films in terms of acting and directing, though the material side-decorations, costumes-has visibly improved. In Soviet times, people meticulously prepared programs and made less mistakes."

The abovementioned transformation undoubtedly engenders the primitive deficit of thought-provoking, edifying mass media now catered to a dense audience discussed by both Kostya and Olga Yackovna R.

"I dislike the desire to make a production quicker as well as the orientation upon an undeveloped audience with interests grounded more in animalistic instincts then intellectual ones. There are less educational moments in mass culture; more attention is dedicated to opinions, events, and shallow interpretations instead of deep analysis. An audience principally doesn't have anything to reflect upon, becomes lazy and doesn't want to advance because there are few engaging stimulants.

I really like that many young people have appeared because they have more energy. If a program is effectively organized, much more can be accomplished then during Soviet times, so there are now greater possibilities."

Though aware that the public is not encouraged to utilize its mental capacity, Kostya acknowledges the reinvigoration and augmented potential of post-Soviet popular culture.

Briefly outlining the history of Russian feelings towards America during his lifetime, my interviewee regards late twentieth century disinterest in native culture as a consequence of enthrallment with the United States.

"American culture was more desirable [then European culture during Soviet Times], maybe because there was less exposure with the Iron Curtain and this was a forbidden fruit. When these barriers disappeared, Russian people were too strongly focused on American culture and so began to lose much of their originality."

He further explains recent cultural degradation as the sanctioning of an inherent Russian attraction to foreign nations.

"America didn't allow itself to be influenced, but Russia did because inconsistency is embedded in the Russian mentality. We even have this saying, "There are no prophets in one's native land," so it's always preferable to listen to someone from the outside then your own people. Though capitalism directs socialization, Americans have this herd feeling, in the positive sense of the word. Russians, probably because this is a multi-national country, conversely have an internal aversion to one another. Carefulness towards one another and each for himself, so we'd rather befriend those we don't see or know then those who we live with. This was largely a reason for the decline of Russian culture in the 90s."

The normalization and acceptance of Western popular culture can be observed through a transformation in Kostya's outlook on music.

"It [popular culture] influences me considerably because, for example, I now calmly listen to some sorts of music which seemed unacceptable seven years ago. It doesn't induce any sort of revulsion in me, nor do I consider it poor quality, so my plank has dropped. However, I don't consider this bad because it [contemporary music] was more then likely just uncustomary."

Kostya suggests that contemporary changes in longtime Russian values were gradual late Soviet era transitions that accelerated upon the Union's collapse.

"People began to live differently, especially in the early years of the perestroika when living standards drastically worsened. Of course this had a very strong impact, but one cannot say that it [change] occurred exactly at the moment of the Soviet Union's collapse because there were many problems beforehand. There was desire for culture we didn't know in the 80s and people began to orient more upon material values, priorities moved in the direction of money and de-socialization heightened. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, all this was aggravated."

He continued to delineate economic plight and ensuing discrepancies in wealth that further divided society, causing today's rampant corruption.

"My father found an alternative means of earning more or less good money that we could live on during this time, when no one could earn normal money, but this was done with significant damage to his health. I consider the collapse of the Soviet Union to have been a strong blow to all Russian families.

Very perceptible social inequality emerged. Even children from wealthy families offended children from poor families, so de-socialization among our people accelerated. Television also greatly contributed to the value of wealth and acquisition of material items, so the goal of affluence attained through any means by some people produced criminality and now we see the consequences of this-widespread corruption."

Upon hearing Kostya's narrative of the feats of and relapse in Soviet values, one is prompted to wonder if the current corrosion of communist merits will reverse past national achievements.

"It's difficult to understand what is traditional for the Russian person now because a shift in values occurred with the change of [political economic] structure. Traditions essential to life were eliminated and there was a deliberate effort for people to forget these values so that they weren't inherited. Many values that were fundamental in Soviet times are now repressed; inadequacies are intentionally shown and analysts speculate upon events that deprecate the standing of communist values.

Even those who didn't accept the Soviet system accepted its [associated] lifestyle. Tremendous attention was dedicated to the improvement of culture and education as well as to the cultivation of moral values. This type of work didn't occur before the revolution, so the Soviet system is responsible for the larger part of what Russian culture now has."

Kostya recognizes the artificial nature of modern Russian culture ascribed to incorporation of Western values along with disregard for maintaining tradition.

"Overall, I think the influence of American culture makes Russian culture more formal. Since Western values are oriented upon in much, we sense things that were given to us by nature less.

I consider that television and music have become less authentic because vocal styles, scenic effects and behavioral traits that came from the West aren't natural for us. The good we took is that technology has improved here, but in most cases this adaptation occurs at the cost of our distinctiveness, which is bad because something shouldn't be contrived from another culture. Now the factor of maintaining uniqueness isn't taken into account, and I think this is a national danger."

He believes that state social assistance, which is minimal in contemporary Russia, is necessary for a family thrive and effectively rear children.

"Upbringing in the family before all, because parents embed a child's perception of the world in his consciousness. However, the 90s show Russia that government support is necessary for a family to provide the child with a good upbringing. The measures that the state now takes at least give something, but I consider them inadequate for the maintenance of life's potentials. A greater understanding of people's problems is wanting."

Interview with Vadim Vladimirov

An insightful architectural designer who received his post-secondary degree in philosophy, Vadim Vladimirov is a fifty-one-year-old native of suburban Moscow residing in Petersburg for the past three and a half decades.

He conveyed the effects of post-perestroika cultural diversification and its corresponding devastation of longtime Russian cultural norms.

"Revitalization of culture and the overall psychological atmosphere-social energy was needed.

There's a sense that life has become more normal and authentic, though it has also become more complicated, of course. Then, society was more homogenous and monotonous. Almost everybody read the same [texts]; this is both good and bad. People had a mutual cultural basis, which was the general intellectual ration for most. It's understandable that conformation occurred, that original, individual, and personal expression was leveled. On the other hand, it was easier to establish a common tongue.

Though this was an inert cultural and educational system, it was founded on very high standards: classical, those foremost in pre-revolutionary Russia...practically all people who are serious and longtime pedagogues say so. The Bolsheviks didn't replace everything old, they just altered and modified the form, so primarily everything remained classically Russian. [After the perestroika] much was ridden of."

Changes in his consumer behavior are attributed not only to the new economic order, but to modernization, though the later wouldn't be as acute without the later.

"Like most men, I wouldn't say I like shopping.

I go more often because there are more interesting, attractive goods; these televisions, cameras, computers, and other such devices didn't exist in Soviet times. I spend much more money [then before the perestroika] because I have more and there exists something to buy with this money."

My interviewee is partial to small shops on account of their unique though allegedly limited assortment.

"It seems as though everything in all shopping complexes is identical. The assortment of goods is very similar, irregardless of which store you go to, even if they don't belong to the same corporation. In small stores, where less goods are selectively chosen, there are more worthy and interesting items."

Comparing European, American, and Russian advertising approaches, Vadim delineates features pertinent to agreeable, effective ads.

"The form and ideas of advertisements can be interesting. I'm absolutely convinced that it [advertising] is inevitable, but not in such an unrestrained manner and quantity as here. I watched a television program about an advertising competition, and European commercials had a significant impression on me. It appears as though American commercials are less competently crafted and written, more primitive and consumerist, expecting to immediately send the buyer to purchase what is advertised. I often see American commercials on Russian television and they are all very clamorous and unnatural, lacking fantasy. Europeans are much more subtle in this respect; their ads are very often productions of art. In Russian, this is extremely rare; there are many ads everywhere, especially where they don't belong.

I don't think we need so much advertising on Petersburg streets, where the flow of traffic is very poorly organized and strained. This is just dangerous, as our pedestrians and drivers can't behave civilly, and ads distract them in addition.

It's important for advertising to be smart and interesting from an artistic point of view. I like this approach used here a few years ago: you first see a billboard that has some inexplicable image and no words, which you're intrigued by. In half a year, the same ad appears, and on it is written who and what this is. This ad is highly effective: it's memorable and inoffensive. Direct advertising that insists on reaching into your pocket is foolish. People of a certain [intellectual] level erect an internal block because this is insulting; it reduces a person from the intellectual, cultural, or spiritual heights at which he considers himself."

The change in Vadim's frequency of outings to cultural establishments reflects the living conditions as well as the wanting institutional balance between work and leisure of contemporary Russia.

"I frequented [cultural establishments] more often before the perestroika. My work load has increased and corresponding free time has significantly decreased, though my material prospects have improved. Time to go to the theater, cinema, even to read, has notably diminished, and in as much as I understand, the same has happened to many people just because they work too much and are tired.

Sometimes it seems as though it would be better to have less material opportunities and a calmer, more stable life in which there is more culture and less demanding work. However, literature, film, music, painting, and everything else don't go anywhere; they remain foremost deep inside. Then, you can't always dedicate an equal amount of time to the same activities throughout the course of your entire life.

So getting back to the question, I can't say what is more important; as was stated in one American film, ‘A good combination of this and that,' though I'd definitely like to work less."

His reflections on the decline of Russian culture on account of current social instability as well as desire for novelty signal the rapid modernization of post-Soviet Russia.

"Not only do I think that Russian culture has suffered, but unfortunately people who believe so can do very little, and those upon whom this depends generally don't consider such things. In personal conversations and on television as well as the radio, very serious people who I respect say that practically nothing is left of Russian culture.

This began in the 90s, after the perestroika. Life was more stable and its rules were clear, didn't change for decades. The same cultural values were inherited from generation to generation; now cultural values change every one and a half, two, three years maximum. This says that people excessively desire change-new, new, new-they don't find time to understand and absorb value. Creations that are still colossal resources are considered hopelessly old.

In the most frightening years of Bolshevik reign, there was tremendous culture; blood, totalitarianism, and despotism in and of themselves affect it very little. They controlled official culture, but the stronger the pressure, the more potent and vivid the underground culture that dissents this pressure. This pressure currently doesn't exist, and culture isn't united against a common enemy; the common enemy right now is absence of culture, the masses.

It's become difficult for culture to survive because people need consumption instead. They must be guided and taught; trim and water the hedges. At least domestic culture still exists where this is done; before, school teachers did this, but now they aren't paid to."

To my interviewee, modern popular culture, though expertly crafted abroad, is entirely meaningless in comparison to Soviet artistic productions.

"I like that American popular culture is very professionally done; our analogies don't compare. Even Britney Spears is much better then most of our singers, though I personally dislike her.

American film also is another form of mass production we're very actively attempting to imitate, but watching this is impossible. Neither yours nor ours; it's all very uninteresting. Even my favorite Bruce Willis-very handsome man, everything is wonderful-but to watch him repeatedly isn't realistic. Here's the paradox: there's action, but nothing occurs. Nothing happens; nothing happens here [indicates head], nothing happens here [indicates heart]. I think I found the key; mass culture is when very much is happening outside and around you, but nothing happens within you.

You're busy, making merry, you feel good, then they turn off the switch, and you realize that time passed but life didn't occur. When you read or watch something [of quality] all the time, life is complete, of great meaning and colossal strain, and when it is done, you feel as though you've received something. Here [in popular culture], you leave with what you came with: nothing."

Popular culture affects even those who oppose integrating it into their lives, as reveals Vadim's resistance to negative aspects of mass media.

"I dislike it [popular culture] as type of culture, not as a personally harmful or dangerous factor, because I can barricade myself and not internalize it. However, this increases the degree of my irritability, because and I must generate a greater quantity of aggression to counteract destructive aspects of my external environment in order to maintain and protect my own values."

Like Nataliya Vladimirovna, Vadim believes that the conceptual discernment of artists, as opposed to official censorship he describes for the sake of comparison, is desperately wanting.

"The meaning of mass culture wasn't popular in Soviet times. They acknowledged that mass culture existed in the West-in America, in Europe-and ascribed an extremely negative context to this understanding. Mass meant bad, low; our culture was deemed high. Of course we had mass culture too.

Culture needs professional, not ideological censorship, and this existed. I'm referring to a professional filter. There are songs a person has created, ‘with their left foot,' as we say, but he considers this art, and if he has money and the opportunity, he'll sing them. This is what is produced in Russia now; there's no poetry, music, not even an elementary professional rhythm. This was impossible in the Soviet era; you were prohibited by any Худсовет, professional collectives of critics who instructed the state in controlling [productions]. Of course this is bad, but they had a professional approach, a sense of what was quality, and operated on high standards. Art should live freely, but artists must have personal internal criteria; unfortunately, those who currently produce our mass culture mostly don't possess internal high standards."

Vadim's thoughts regarding the past Soviet attitude towards America and present implications of Russian/American relations evoke the United States as the leading 20^th century cultural empire.

"I think that even in Soviet times, Russians knew more about Americans then Americans knew about Russians. America was a fantasy land, an interesting, attractive, wealthy, and accomplished life for us. We realized that we would never live there, but we wanted to know what it was like. The average Soviet person listened to much American music, read much American literature, and watched many American films.

Now Russia, actually the entire world, is an affiliate of America in the areas of information and mass culture. Of course the world knows more about America then American knows about the world, and Russia isn't an exception."

By explaining American cultural imperialism in a pragmatic, historical context, he partially clarifies the common Russian disconnection of American influence and the consequences of consumerism (an offspring of which is popular culture).

"The issue isn't even American influence, but globalization. America now sets the tone of globalization, so it happens that the influence is American. The most powerful economy is American, so its standards-corporate, technological, and corresponding mass culture, advertising, behavioral, fashion-become global standards. America is the world's leading superpower, so its standards are imitated, and it in turn strives to make them universal.

When we speak of cultural imperialism, we refer to a certain power that disregards other cultures: ‘If I'm the leader, this is because something in my mind is right; thus, you must understand my rightfulness and live the same. The entire problem of the First and Third World is, ‘If we are such masterminds who live so affluently and you are such simpletons who live poorly, take our culture and live as we do.' Self-importance based upon wealth, this is cultural imperialism, and it is happening...always."

Again relaying national collective experience, Vadim compares Russian and American mindsets.

"We have the experience of humiliation and survival that Americans don't have, from war, concentration camps, and empty shops, though just the incident of war on native territory is a colossal thing. My mother endured the entire war in occupied Belarus; this event is very close to me because I was born in '57 and the war ended in '45, which is a minuscule gap.

Americans are a bit infantile in comparison to Russians because they don't have the sorrowful, tragic experience that turns a person into an adult. In this are rooted many manifestations of American mass culture, such as excessive greed for life's pleasures. Though, on the other hand, this is good because their development is almost unhindered; if they want something, they attempt to obtain it. When we even begin to want something, we think, ‘Nothing will work,' and very often nothing happens, either because we think so beforehand or because everything here really is this difficult.

It seems as though there's less of this in America, in the people themselves, though society is also such that it's easier for a person to actualize what he wants. Society is structured to help a person do well; this is what I like about America.

I dislike a certain primitiveness, their outlook on life. The Russian is too internally complex; he's confused, contradictory. This is simply observable in how our people walk on the street-they move without meaning, aggressively, without a concentrated expression. The Russian person didn't intentionally earn this complexity; history made him so, but it happens that this is some sort of wealth.

Overall, the average American is no better or worse then the average Russian."

Consequently, the materialization of American behavior in post-Soviet Russia seems completely unnatural.

"People's manner of communication has become more American-greetings, gestures-the dynamics of body language have changed. Youth derived and imitate this from observing American films and music videos. Before, people pressed one another's hands upon meeting; now, [makes high five gesture] these types of purely American things. The tone of voice is different, more publicly projected. Before, the average Russian behaved more reserved on the street, not even because he had good manners, but because he was somehow timid; acting too expressively was embarrassing. Now, the youth's attempt to distinguish themselves is pure demonstration. Russians didn't have this mania to be seen before; this is completely inorganic, borrowed."

Vadim considers the impact of popular culture on Russian youth to be absolutely negative.

"I just don't see anything good.

Then bad?

Everything: light-mindedness, loss of real values-cultural, aesthetic, intellectual. Everything is easy and can be done quickly. ‘I can do everything by myself. I don't need to study, think, suffer, live. I just wrote a song, tomorrow a romance, after tomorrow I'll film a movie because I'm young, I have testosterone, and I'm attractive. Most important is merriness and ease, finding time to do everything while you're eighteen to twenty-five, because afterwards there is no life. The cult of youth and newness, this is mass culture. They [youth] don't prepare themselves to live fifty more years; for this, something must be accumulated and built around oneself."

The new economic system's correlating disproportionate esteem for youth has inundated the time-honored Russian social order with foreign values.

"Overall, youth relate to their elders completely condescendingly, though of course there are exceptions. Again, you're considered a person only when you're eighteen to twenty-five because you're young, attractive, and strong. The principle standard, physical strength, is a very powerful value in any culture or civilization, but it was always counterbalanced with culture-respect for intellect, experience, age, gender. It wasn't courteous or gallant to demonstrate. Now these regulations have been disposed of. This isn't without the influence of global corporate culture, the standard that an employee must be young to be effective, irregardless of experience and intellect. A firm needs meat, young workers who can be exploited with a two-hundred percent work load for ten years. The young understand that the burden is on them, that the employer needs them, so they feel important."

A feature of Russian socialization that hasn't been completely decimated is how friends and acquaintances relate to one another.

"The habit of long conversations and informal relations still remains and should be maintained. The most important trait of Russian and Soviet people was that we were more friends then professionals to one another. This is changing. Before, it was acceptable for me to visit you if I happened to be nearby. Now, this happens very rarely; you have to make arrangements. Overall, we socialize less because you begin to think, ‘Maybe this is inconvenient, maybe I shouldn't, maybe another time.' Though it is often inconvenient, I would maintain spontaneity."

Similarly to Lena Gakkel, Vadim's assertion that the state should aid preservation of important Russian traditions extend Soviet social reliance upon government as well as indicate a people overwhelmed by a torrent of recent change.

"I would say that this [maintaining tradition] is now more so the state's responsibility, because so much has been internally and domestically destroyed. Mechanisms that were self-replicating are broken because there have been too many transformations over the past twenty years. The state needs to help society establish and preserve them [traditions]."

Interview with Olga Yackovna R.

Olga Yackovna R. is a brilliant forty-four-year-old editor for a regional television program and lifelong Petersburg resident. She formerly worked as a professor of Russian history as well as a museum curator at the Peter and Paul Fortress. Olga has an adolescent daughter, thirteen years of age, frequently referred to during this interview.

My interviewee outlined the evolution of late twentieth century Russian popular culture, from the lot of Soviet underground artists to the ascent of contemporary mass media.

"In Soviet times, no one considered anything [officially] possible, but illegal underground culture still existed. If you were a member of the Artists Union, you had a studio; a member of the Composer's Union, you had the right to write songs; a member of the Writer's Union, your books are published, but if you were just a talented person, you could pass this on to only friends and acquaintances.

When the collapse occurred and glasnost was proclaimed, this artistic atmosphere surged out in a wave of lively enthusiasm and blossomed magnificently. However, this line had its own audience, which still exists. Those who listened to Soviet songs until the Union collapsed also needed something to listen to, and mass culture wedged itself into them because it doesn't bear anything intellectual. There is always a certain level [of society] that needs this; not everyone can think alike, about something global, deep and high."

She attributes the above mentioned underground culture's brief expansion and ensuing plummet into obscurity to the new economic order.

"People really tried to do something in the 90s, but then calmed down and decided that nothing depends on them. They accepted capitalism in the way that it is today, so nobody produces creative works anymore."

An example of creative deprecation is early perestroika advertising, which effectively incorporated an intellectually stimulating application of the Russian language's peculiarities.

"There is this specific [feature] of the Russian language, where you can say a phrase in such a manner that a person exclaims in astonishment and has the chance to develop further.

Advertising in the 90s even placed first in international competitions because though it was neither bright nor wealthy, its ideas were so funny that it worked. There was this couple, Duet Cabaret Academia; she's like this [indicates tall], he's like this [indicates short]. One says, "Hapernamvest is an extraordinary company," and the other says, "From others." In the Russian language extraordinary means very good and also different from others.

The Russian mentality is unique, so ads should work on something else. People now mute commercial interruptions between films. Noise that seems to affect mass consciousness doesn't; it's cut off. The expectation that mass consciousness is cretin is false, because Russian people aren't idiots."

Olga's belief in an inherent degree of discernment in Russian people concurs with Appiah's position on mass impressionability.

Though Olga alleges that fondness for Petersburg's artistic heritage is eternal if cultivated during one's youth, her current behavior is consistent with a discernable pattern of general dissociation from cultural institutions.

"A favorite museum, architectural monument or historical place can't change inside a person. How it's perceived in childhood is how it will exist in old age, no matter what happens.

My personal attitude towards these places [cultural establishments] has changed very much. I loved theaters, had to go to all exhibits in every museum, and the movie theater cost ten kopeks, so any premier was mandatory. Now I don't go to the movie theater because I can buy a disc and watch this film at home while drinking coffee and smoking at leisure. I go to museums extremely rarely because I don't have time and I also already visited them so much that I know residential museums well. I choose theaters very selectively because theatrical culture has diffused and everything new far from satisfies me. I'll only go to a theater that I certainly know has already been checked because I've gone to a premier and turned around to leave after fifteen minutes many times, as watching this was impossible. Everyone is now seeking new forms, and not always successfully."

Her insinuation that the average Russian hasn't accepted shopping as a means of socialization reflects that consumer culture has not yet completely infiltrated Russia.

"Young people go to cafes, bars, movie theaters, parks, and nightclubs, definitely not shopping complexes. How can you spend time with friends in a shopping complex? Shopping is a deed."

Initial perestroika era enthusiasm for Western culture is exemplified by Olga's experience of viewing the first modern American film that markedly moved her.

"In the 90s, when all of this [American culture] materialized, of course one had to scour a load of garbage, but from this junk you took what you liked, remembered and continued watching. So much was steep [cool], intense and very well-liked because there was an entire stratum of culture you didn't know at all.

My first 4:15 shock was Alan Parker's film The Wall. It was so powerful that I hadn't seen anything comparable until that moment. We went to one of these small video salons that had just opened, as nobody had their own videos yet, and when the film was over, I couldn't say, ‘Mama.' My partner escorted me to a park and we walked for a long time because he saw I was speechless and in shock. Please, a perception of American film-it can be very brilliant."

Interestingly enough, she praised the current employment of approaches derived from American films for confronting new social problems indirectly induced by the West.

"Extreme social stratification, someone who is very wealthy while someone else who's very poor being in the same class is an issue for youth. This American standard, ascending before your circle and establishing individuality without much money is much more difficult then not having distinct characteristics but having money.

Your cinematographers have produced a bunch of good films on this subject. Films about this existing in American schools for a long time are beneficial because they [poor youth] can [use them to] orient upon how to overcome this situation."

During our discussion of modern popular culture, Olga depicted a populace so emotionally depleted from the labor demands of Russian capitalism that people, including herself, simply don't have the energy to consume refined artistic works.

"In that it [popular culture] reaches the masses, its effect is massive. An insane amount of talented cinematography exists in Russia, Europe, and even America; another matter is whether or not this is transmitted. Mass culture forcibly kills whatever convenient, but this doesn't mean that this [alternative culture] doesn't exist.

I recently met a person who's been producing unconventional cinematography for many years, and nearly in tears, he said, ‘Cultured people, intelligentsia from my circle say, "I'm so emotionally drained throughout the course of each day, that when I come home, what will I watch? Sakurov's Mother and Son? I don't have the strength to fret on this emotional level, so I'd better watch Ice Age and go to sleep."' He said, ‘An entire layer of audience capable of absorbing culture is washed out.'

The matter is not that people are becoming stupid, but that they have been emotionally exhausted to the degree that they can't consume culture of this [higher] level. People are concerned with falling below the plank; they are vigorously wrung out to earn minimal money for survival. I'll honestly say, I'm also far from a fool and I really love intellectual films and books, but I also don't have strength. I come home and look over what I have to do to continue the work day because there isn't enough time. This is a pivotal point thanks to our government, which allows people to be burdened to this level, yet this is also the inescapable rise of capitalism."

In addition, she conveyed that authorities intentionally don't present the public with thought-provoking culture (en masse) as a means of control and exploitation.

"In the face of this [mass culture], incredible things are happening. We had a student ball on Tatyana's Day [a student celebration], and the organizers decided that there would be a ball for two hours and then a discotheque for the rest of the night. When they said, ‘Now for the discotheque,' the students cried, ‘We don't need a discotheque that we can find in any club; let's continue the ball!' People are capable of absorbing such culture, they even want it, but they're not offered. They want to dance the waltz and mazurka, but in as much as the discotheque is everywhere, they adapt to this. The same with mass culture, if we offer something attractive, people will consume it with pleasure, but they're not offered.

We complain about mass culture, but who determines it? Allow intelligent texts to be sung today and people will like them, but no one on the [television] screen allows them to be sung because people becoming smarter is threatening. It's very easy to direct masses that can't think. Most important is for those who decide this to become intelligent by making a middling mass culture, so that they can say, ‘Now quickly, go do this,' and everyone complies because this has already infiltrated their center. These are frightening things that Orwell wrote about, yet they have already been sold a hundred times and we all live in it."

One is bound to wonder what degree the ordinary Russian can resist such manipulation as well as have the resources and will to engage in stimulating alternatives, especially if overworked.

Regarding contemporary Russian youth, Olga expresses the presence of an inborn fear of society in her daughter's generation, conceived during the erratic early perestroika era.

"I think, ‘Why is my daughter's generation so closed?' There was recently a program about people this age, and psychologists said very intelligent things. Any mother who carried a child in the 90s was afraid to give birth because the future was unpredictable; however, a fetus is alive, and everything infiltrates its subconscious. Now psychologists are gathering to decide what to do with this generation at a state level, because they [this generation] don't want to absorb anything, they're afraid to go out into the world. This is the lost generation, those from ten to fifteen years old now. They have a barrier against everything that isn't in their range of sight because their mothers embedded that the world is frightening in the womb. World culture doesn't exist for my daughter; she has a small, limited circle she knows, and is afraid to go beyond it. We [mothers] didn't consider what degree this would affect the small ones growing in our stomachs."

A noteworthy post-Soviet social transformation is the manifestation of pornography, quite the public phenomenon in light of Russia's chaste traditional belief system.

"Ninety-percent of Russia's population will tell you, ‘When American cinematography appeared here, sex began to be shown on our [television] screen.'

In one of our first public programs at the end of the 80s, they questioned and filmed passersby on the street. There was one woman who said, ‘There's no sex in the Soviet Union.' Though she intended to express something else, they edited it in such a way that this phrase became famous. Sex existed in the Soviet Union, like in all other countries, but there definitely was this puritanical approach where showing sex was a no, no.

When everything became possible, so did this; however, it can be shown beautifully or monstrously. An entire cluster of porn film enterprises have come here, and many of your entrepreneurs have opened small, temporary porno studios. The day before yesterday, I spoke with a boy, twenty-two years of age, who filmed for this sort of studio. He said, ‘This is awful. I could tolerate it for no more then two months.' A good salary is paid and many youth can earn easy money. This [pornography] is everywhere in all countries and the choice of each individual."

Beginning with an account of pornography's desensitizing impact on youth, Olga expands upon mass media's multi-level dulling of the senses and deterioration at one's ability to concentrate.

"The legalization of that which probably shouldn't be shown to everybody is offensive. Returning to my daughter's generation again, they don't have a threshold of sensitivity; for them, glances and the touch of a hand-the most subtle things-are ineffective. Their generation has sex at a very early age not because it's bad, but because they don't respond to this [makes several small gestures]. What's felt is when you've already taken off your pants, which isn't their fault because they're shown this all the time. There should limits [to what is shown on television].

Their threshold of sensitivity has been reduced in terms of culture to. This isn't just my opinion, it's that of our Russian pedagogical psychologists have written much about this subject. It's difficult for them [youth] to listen to calm music; they don't differentiate pastel colors because the bright, neon characteristics of advertising are more understandable.

Another very frightening thing is ‘clip consciousness.' American blockbusters, which were embedded in even our directors' minds in the 90s, must be made so that they captivate, which is done by constantly changing a picture. The thing is that when a shot is long, you're finally capable of thinking.

Cutting occurs in all spheres of culture and this even effects people like me because I begin to think more in clip. Now actors don't even have time to enter their roles because they have to make money all the time; they've all become identical. Individuality practically isn't developed amongst them [youth] because they're exposed to an insane stream of information. When there's a lot of information, chaos results, which never gives one the chance to sort things out.

Everything must be done completely differently with them; they must be gradually grounded through a methodical approach because they've already been ruined."

An example of wanting individuality and desire to embody the standards of popular culture in youth is witnessed in the behavior of Olga's daughter.

"Mass culture definitely presents new standards while also functioning as entertainment. My daughter certainly gets all of her beauty ideals from there. They were all obsessed with Britney Spears, everything was decorated in pictures of her. Mine cuts out her own face in photoshop, pastes it on the body of Britney Spears, and puts this on the internet as though it's her. Every popular star from their generation is an idol for each young girl; this is probably normal because it cannot be otherwise at this age. It's just important that the mind turns in another direction after twenty years of age, that a person becomes an individual, but these influences may invoke something else."

Olga considers what modern youth do need is intellectual stimulation through popular artistic productions, such being currently compromised by prominent longstanding celebrities.

"The only person that transgressed [official artistic regulations] in Soviet times was [Alla] Pugachova, so I have great respect for her. Now Pugachova and such figures are monopolists, deciding who is and isn't acceptable [as singers]. It's frightening that their judgment is already of a past time and not suitable for the needs of today's youth.

They [youth] now need much more thought-inducing things. I'm not pleased with the mental capacity of my daughter or her generation, but I see that they really try to contemplate something. They're not granted the opportunity to think because very cliché works kill the mind.

Not one text of the songs now produced and popular should be listened to because they don't develop the mind. Underground [culture] was good in that every song, even if it wasn't musically superior, gave a person the opportunity to think through its ideas."

Widespread decline of mental capacity could also be ascribed to changes in the Russian educational system, which Olga illustrates through comparison.

"In Russia, there are two educational options: the school of knowledge and the school of competency. Competency is when you have a specialization while eliminating certain subjects.

In the Soviet Union, you were required to graduate this basic school of knowledge; then this collapsed and began to diffuse in different directions. It's awful that we took this from America, because Russia was always renown at least for having minds that were in demand."

My interviewee considers one solution to the shortcomings of modern globalization to be maintaining the Russian tradition of thought-provoking art through music.

"Mass culture is a common international understanding; of course this is modernization, but it's a collective global process.

We definitely took much from American culture, but if this [the style of song texts] would only be maintained in ours, because we were always rich in thoughts. We'll never sing like Tina Turner or Whitney Houston because it's different musically there [in America], but for that I don't know those words; maybe they're not wise. Our words [of songs] just reach the bones; there's less music but many ideas."

She also hopes that the revival of Russian Orthodox tradition will restore public morale.

"I'm very grateful to the perestroika that churches began to be restored and religious traditions that were formerly illegal have returned. In as much as the Russian people accepted Christianity in the 10^th century, I think the understanding of what's possible and impossible was misconstrued during Soviet times. The disorder of the 90s was very frightening on a moral level. I believe that returning to the religious foundation that the Russian people principally existed upon will probably give correct judgment of what is and isn't right."

Oral interview with Pin Vannaro, Dean of Agriculture, Maharishi Vedic University, 03.27.08 All answers are paraphrased from the interview.

Before the interview I waited for him to connect to the internet which seems to be the biggest problem out here: when the internet is up, it is only up half of the time!

What do you think about biodiesel? Biodiesel is new for Cambodia. There aren’t any production facilities yet as the idea is in the promotional stage. Some investment is coming from the USA and Pan-Asia. As of now, the biodiesel is being produced in Thailand that is sold in Cambodia. When there are enough plantations to provide the feedstock, refineries can be built here in Cambodia.

What is your vision for the biodiesel program at MVU?  We would like to grow the feedstock on MVU land and land nearby. The goal is to produce enough to run generators at MVU and sell the surplus to locals. We want a package-program where we contract the farmers to grow and harvest Jatropha curcas and refine the biodiesel at MVU or out at the plantation in Poipel.

What is your goal for biodiesel at MVU? The goal is to produce enough for the university to run its generators and sell the rest locally. We’d also like to expand the plantations to provide rural farmers with cheap fuel so they can increase food production and to increase the income of farmers who grow Jatropha.

What is your vision for biodiesel in Cambodia? The vision is to reduce the consumption of petroleum by replacing it with biodiesel; natural energy. Decentralized biodiesel production is a brilliant idea for rural Cambodia.

Is it difficult to get the community involved? First we must demonstrate to the farmer the benefits of Jatropha. If it is successful, they will make independent businesses. It is hard to convince the farmer without showing him real results. Cambodian farmers only want to grow cash crops which will provide immediate income. Jatropha curcas takes six to twelve months to be fruitful, which is a turn off to farmers, but it is a perennial crop which lasts thirty to forty years, so that is a positive difference when compared to rice which is an annual crop.

Farmers are already using Jatropha as a fence around their land so the plant is not new to them. It will only take small steps to convince them to grow it on a large scale.

Where are the problems? Acquiring chemicals and oil, etc.? Right now, potassium hydroxide (KOH) and methanol must be smuggled in from Vietnam because they are also used in the manufacture of methamphetamines. Permission from the Ministry of Health must be obtained to legally possess, purchase and import these chemicals.

What impact does biodiesel production have on Kamchay Mear? MVU? A few years ago, MVU initiated a proposal to AusAid to start this project. Last year, the crop was introduced to students and farmers but planting the crop late in the rainy season stunted its growth. The soil will need some additives and fertilizers to improve the poor quality of the soil, even though the plant grows well in a number of conditions, because the soil drains too quickly. An additional benefit is some of the byproducts of the biodiesel production can be in turn used as fertilizer.

            Ideally, the production facilities would be moved to Poipel where the crop is grown or to have more Jatropha growing on MVU land.

            The best places in Cambodia to grow Jatropha are Battambang and Kampong Cham.

How can we protect the forests so they are not made into plantations? What about using land for food crops to grow Jatropha instead? There are no problems with deforestation or division of land between industrial crops (Jatropha) and food crops. Food crops like rice are grown on low-land flood plains and Jatropha is a high-land crop.

What kinds of jobs will this create?  Farmers can grow Jatropha even if they have poor land. Poor farmers and small-land holders can do it too. It is good for poor, infertile soil. There is much labor and maintenance involved which will create jobs.

(Separate from interview: When I went out to Poipel, David Granger gave the guys out there some money to hire locals to come and dig trenches for the irrigation pipes and to weed out the areas around the Jatropha.)

How many people does this project employ? Processing plants will need to be built and run. Right now we are waiting for the plants to mature. There are now three people employed full-time at Poipel.

(Separate from interview: When I visited Poipel, only a few of the plants had produced seeds during the dry season. Proper irrigation will lead to year-round growth and pruning the plants so they produce as many seeds as possible can take a few years.)

What do the locals think of this?  Some know about it from the mass media and the prospects are good. Farmers will need to take classes on proper growing techniques, study the theory behind it and they will have to visit the site.

How can locals start their own biodiesel programs? Farmers can only grow the plants and harvest the seeds.

            Education? Farmers have very limited knowledge and all of this must be proven to them. The farmers must see it to believe it.

            Drawbacks? It is expensive to set up irrigation and production facilities.

What about waste vegetable oil (WVO) versus Jatropha? Jatropha is localized which is key to decentralized production. WVO must be shipped in from tourist areas and big cities such as Kampong Saom, Siem Reap, and Phnom Penh where there are lots of restaurants. Shipping WVO from around Cambodia to Kamchay Mear is expensive.

(Separate from interview: Khem Sath said that shipping 1500L of WVO from Siem Reap to Kamchay Mear would cost $200)

How much money can be saved by using biodiesel versus petrol diesel? Thousands of dollars a year can be saved. The school is in session 10 months a year, the generator runs an average of 10 hours a day and one hour burns seven liters of fuel at a little over 4000r a liter.

(Side note: this amounts to 17,080 liters a year: 10 months x 22 days/month at 10 hours/day (weekday use) and 10 months x 8 days/month at 3 hours a day (weekend use) and you have a total of 17,080L of fuel a year being burned and with 4000r equaling roughly one dollar, the total fuel cost at MVU is around $17,000. With most Cambodians making $1.50 a day, this is the combined income of 31 Cambodians for one year!)

What about localization? To have everything in one place is definitely better because of transportation costs. Many small refineries are better than one big centralized one. Kamchay Mear has a lot of land available for Jatropha production but not all of Prey Veng.

What is the history of the land at Poipel? When was it cleared? The area was forested before, but after the Pol Pot regime the land began to be cleared. It was fully cleared by 1997.

Should this be used to power generators or cars? First the generator at MVU must be run. Then, we can focus on bigger generators (editor’s note: perhaps for a mini-grid?) and then cars.

Are the generators here being run with biodiesel or petrol diesel right now? Petrol diesel.

Editor’s note: Local production will keep the money local and not into the hands of big business.

here are my comments for now.

First of all, i have decided to scrap trying to organize a show for a number of reasons: super costly, and i think it would take up so much time that i would miss out on the actual rappers, though i am interested in their relationship to authority.

I have finally hit the super jackpot of informants as I have made friends with an artist deep, deep in the scene and he has adopted me into his world. :) He's taken me to see loads of artists as well as letting me tag along with him in general to see how people record and spend their time, where they practice and the community of the underground. I'm a bit sad because I feel I'm finally getting the footing I need for a deeper understanding of what is going on here and what is important, and it's nearly the end of my stay. Not to mention wolof is just beginning to unveil its secrets.

As for the actual questions and paper structure, i've been thinking loads about that and still feeling supremely general. I have been well busy rushing here and there to gather as much info as I can before going home so my transcribing and such has only begun, but in doing that (re-listening to my interviews) and continuing to chat with people, I have some good starts. First and foremost is the over-arching theme of Senegalese identity as I can understand it based on these voices, as most of these rappers see themselves as representatives of, and guides for the voiceless in Senegal's streets and margins. Understanding that as the role they play, I have been talking extensively about where they are guiding people and how they are representing and communicating with their targets, namely the youth and/or the powerful. This encompasses a lot, and I will be focusing on socio-political reality here, such as governmental corruption and lack of/unequal distribution of resources; language, because Wolof is critical to the unity of Senegal: there are more than 20 different languages spoken in the country
but Wolof unites everyone; Religious guidance, because you cannot CANNOT discuss Senegal's music or the guidance these voices are giving without it, most of the advice I hear in these songs has roots in Koranic and Serigne (Marabout) teachings; and finally, and probably most accurately, the relationship of these African musicians to the Afro-American style and culture of hip hop itself. I have been talking about the origins of hip hop and how it has been transformed or adopted here in West Africa, and a reoccuring opinion is that the roots are here, that hip hop is African to begin with, and there is a certain sense of solidarity with African Americans, as the reality of slavery left a massive mark on Senegal, as this was a)the first country colonized by the French, and b) a huge port of departure for the slave trade. Critically, though, this is not the focus of any of the artists I have been speaking with, there is a sense that it is past and now it is time to move on and be POSITIVE, rebuild and work together to pull up the nation and continent. There is also an increasing use of traditional African sounds and imagery mixed in with the relatively new musical form of hip hop: the "new school" is more rooted in African pride of the pre-slavery past than the first African rappers. The other part of the African vs. American rap is the perceptions of each and differences between them, and why (which comes back to religion and Senegalese mentality of peace and tolerance, cooperation of looove): American rap is gangsta and angry, Senegalese is guiding and positive, in general. You do not here gangsta things here, ever. Interestingly enough though, the style of clothing and dancing and speaking do follow the patterns of original American gangsta rappers, but not entirely--it is not a competition or gloryfest, on the surface. I have yet to properly understand if that is just what people are telling me, but from what I can see the underground works together well.

Ok I think that may have been longer than you wanted and I think I'm going to post it on the main site too, but that is a glimpse of the turmoil in my brain and complexity of this topic. I think my main point of reference and analysis will have to be an embellished comparison of the American and Senegalese rap scenes and their linked histories, including the socio-politcal and religious aspects as a foil to American glitz and glamour, while nevertheless hinging on the common factor of rap as revolution, its artists as voices of protest.

Huge, I know, but I think this sounds bigger than it will turn out because I simply don't have the time to sink my teeth too far into a single question. A comparative study of two diverging fingers on the strong hand of hip hop, with a discussion of the palm from which they stem, is the general gist. The palm is African American struggle before and since they became American, the fingers are modern Senegal and USA. This will be done with a huge focus on Senegalese perspective, and acknowledgement of my status as a part of neither group but rather as a Euro-American trying to focus on the power of positive representation and the future of equality through music. Rough, beautiful stuff.

here are my comments for now.

First of all, i have decided to scrap trying to organize a show for a number of reasons: super costly, and i think it would take up so much time that i would miss out on the actual rappers, though i am interested in their relationship to authority.

I have finally hit the super jackpot of informants as I have made friends with an artist deep, deep in the scene and he has adopted me into his world. :) He's taken me to see loads of artists as well as letting me tag along with him in general to see how people record and spend their time, where they practice and the community of the underground. I'm a bit sad because I feel I'm finally getting the footing I need for a deeper understanding of what is going on here and what is important, and it's nearly the end of my stay. Not to mention wolof is just beginning to unveil its secrets.

As for the actual questions and paper structure, i've been thinking loads about that and still feeling supremely general. I have been well busy rushing here and there to gather as much info as I can before going home so my transcribing and such has only begun, but in doing that (re-listening to my interviews) and continuing to chat with people, I have some good starts. First and foremost is the over-arching theme of Senegalese identity as I can understand it based on these voices, as most of these rappers see themselves as representatives of, and guides for the voiceless in Senegal's streets and margins. Understanding that as the role they play, I have been talking extensively about where they are guiding people and how they are representing and communicating with their targets, namely the youth and/or the powerful. This encompasses a lot, and I will be focusing on socio-political reality here, such as governmental corruption and lack of/unequal distribution of resources; language, because Wolof is critical to the unity of Senegal: there are more than 20 different languages spoken in the country
but Wolof unites everyone; Religious guidance, because you cannot CANNOT discuss Senegal's music or the guidance these voices are giving without it, most of the advice I hear in these songs has roots in Koranic and Serigne (Marabout) teachings; and finally, and probably most accurately, the relationship of these African musicians to the Afro-American style and culture of hip hop itself. I have been talking about the origins of hip hop and how it has been transformed or adopted here in West Africa, and a reoccuring opinion is that the roots are here, that hip hop is African to begin with, and there is a certain sense of solidarity with African Americans, as the reality of slavery left a massive mark on Senegal, as this was a)the first country colonized by the French, and b) a huge port of departure for the slave trade. Critically, though, this is not the focus of any of the artists I have been speaking with, there is a sense that it is past and now it is time to move on and be POSITIVE, rebuild and work together to pull up the nation and continent. There is also an increasing use of traditional African sounds and imagery mixed in with the relatively new musical form of hip hop: the "new school" is more rooted in African pride of the pre-slavery past than the first African rappers. The other part of the African vs. American rap is the perceptions of each and differences between them, and why (which comes back to religion and Senegalese mentality of peace and tolerance, cooperation of looove): American rap is gangsta and angry, Senegalese is guiding and positive, in general. You do not here gangsta things here, ever. Interestingly enough though, the style of clothing and dancing and speaking do follow the patterns of original American gangsta rappers, but not entirely--it is not a competition or gloryfest, on the surface. I have yet to properly understand if that is just what people are telling me, but from what I can see the underground works together well.

Ok I think that may have been longer than you wanted and I think I'm going to post it on the main site too, but that is a glimpse of the turmoil in my brain and complexity of this topic. I think my main point of reference and analysis will have to be an embellished comparison of the American and Senegalese rap scenes and their linked histories, including the socio-politcal and religious aspects as a foil to American glitz and glamour, while nevertheless hinging on the common factor of rap as revolution, its artists as voices of protest.

Huge, I know, but I think this sounds bigger than it will turn out because I simply don't have the time to sink my teeth too far into a single question. A comparative study of two diverging fingers on the strong hand of hip hop, with a discussion of the palm from which they stem, is the general gist. The palm is African American struggle before and since they became American, the fingers are modern Senegal and USA. This will be done with a huge focus on Senegalese perspective, and acknowledgement of my status as a part of neither group but rather as a Euro-American trying to focus on the power of positive representation and the future of equality through music. Rough, beautiful stuff.

I was recently in the United Arab Emirates visiting Dubai, not because I wanted to tour the massive city, but because my visiting visa for Oman was nearing its expiration date and I needed to leave the country in order to re-enter for another month. The first couple of days at the Dubai Youth Hostel were uneventful and exhausting. I tried getting a taxi into town, but there was a several hour wait list. I decided to rough it and take the inner city transit. I waited for an hour at the bus stop and eventually got on Bus #13 not knowing where I was headed. When I stepped on to the bus I was acutely aware, along with everyone else, that I was the only white person on this route. As we pulled into the Gold Souk Station near Deria the bus stopped and let out us passengers into the mega metropolis. As I stepped off to see exactly where I was, I saw the sign above the bus which read, “Labor Camp.” I realized that the people who I had just shared an hour long ride with were migrant workers coming from their camp to the inner city. At that moment, I felt the need to see where this camp was, who was there, and what it looked like.

On the bus ride back to Dubai Youth Hostel, the bus was even more crowded than the previous route I had taken. I sat near the back, close to the window, not being able to communicate since many didn’t speak English and I couldn’t speak some of their native languages such as Hindi, Tamil or Seng’hala. The man sitting next to me was pushed out of his seat and another gentleman quickly sat next to me and introduced himself as, “Tyrone (Roy) from Sri Lanka.” With his accent thick and the limitations of our communication I gathered that he and his friends which he kept introducing one by one throughout our conversation wanted to know as much about me as I wanted to know about them. With this mutual respect I asked, “Would it be alright for me to come visit your place?” He responded with a bold and broken, “Yes, it be our honor. You come to room, have tea, party, yeah?” As we entered into what they called, Sonapur, my senses were heightened. With men age 18 to well into their 60s crying for help, I was shocked. The cries for money, food, a ticket back home overwhelmed me and my emotions. Many were pleading for me to help them get back home with wives and children crying for their return. I quickly heard the disparity and urgency of their cries. Their cries are becoming my own cries.

        Beyond Dubai’s skyline lies the world’s largest labor camp known as Sonapur (Suna pur). Over 500,000 male slave laborers from India, Sri Lanka, Pakistan, Nepal, Korea, East Africa, Bangladesh, Philippines and other Indonesian countries live in some of the most horrific conditions I have ever witnessed. The word, sonapur, literally means the ‘land of gold’ or ‘a city of the sleeping dead’. These men are not striking any riches in Sonapur though, being paid an average of about 435 AED (US$100) a month, working nearly 80 hours a week, and struggling to survive day to day. For those who are employed are given only one day off out of the week. Most of the people living in Sonapur sleep on this day resting from the harsh week they endure week after week, day after day. Mind you, an Indian Company called MbM has a camp in Sonapur of which I observed a number of discriminatory practices based on nationality advantages/disadvantages such as, providing mattresses to the Indian laborers, yet denying the Sri Lankans any form of a mattress. When they slept, they slept on wooden boards or the tiled, even dirt floors. I chose to sleep on one of the wooden boards to see what it was like. I woke with back pains and red marks on my skin from the pressure points from my bones digging into the board.  The workers cannot afford to go out since their salary is so weak and many are exhausted