US Peace Corps embedded with Khmer families

In Cambodia's North East, where American B52s once dropped a rain of terror, Allister Hayman finds the locals ready and willing to embrace the country's first ever delegation of US Peace Corps.

In Kampong Cham province's Prey Chhor village Molli Barker, of Iowa, talks of her fear of spiders. Sitting on the front steps of her new home, a traditional wooden Khmer house in this tiny village about 30 minutes from Kampong Cham town, Barker said the resident tarantulas unnerved her.

"I'm terrified of spiders," she said. "But then again, I've also eaten them. So long as they're not moving, it's OK."

Barker, 21, is one of 30 US Peace Corps volunteers ensconced in villages across rural Kampong Cham province, where they're now living with Cambodian families.

The Peace Corps volunteers - most in their early twenties - arrived in Phnom Penh on February 2. The group is stationed in Kampong Cham to learn English language teaching methods and the culture and language of their hosts.

After two-months' training, the volunteers will relocate to permanent sites in seven provinces, where they will live with a local family and teach English to upper-level high school students for two years.

Van Nelson, country director of Peace Corps Cambodia (PCC), said it has taken the organization a long time to arrive in Cambodia and he's proud to head the first mission.

"To the Peace Corps, Cambodia is an unknown," he said. "For this mission, we were looking for generalists. But all the volunteers have done some tutoring and they've all come with a zeal. They've come here to serve Cambodia."

Nelson, who first volunteered with the Peace Corps in 1969, said Cambodian authorities identified English education as their priority.

"Peace Corps doesn't say what we will give; we ask what is needed," Nelson told the Post. "And we were repeatedly told that there is a real need for English language teaching."

Nelson said the purpose of the PCC was cultural exchange, language teaching and community development.

"The objective is to expose Cambodians to typical Americans, and give Americans an insight into everyday Cambodian life," he said. "We go in very much at ground level and give Cambodians an idea of what an American is like. We also help them when help is needed. We estimate that over the two years our volunteers will touch over 60,000 lives."

Cheryl Turner, the PCC training officer responsible for setting up the village living arrangements, said there were only three prerequisites. The volunteers had to have a room of their own, the toilets had to be of a "decent" standard, and there were to be no pigs. "It's hard enough for them to cope with the heat and dust, let alone the smell of pigs," Turner said.

The PCC volunteers are paid a living allowance of less than $100 a month, roughly half of which is given to their host family. The volunteers are not permitted to take on paid employment or ride on motos - they've been given mountain bikes. Also, they must live with their host family for the duration of their stay.

Turner said the organization's welcome to Cambodia has been "overwhelming."

"We thought we would encounter some resistance, given our history, but we haven't," she said. "People have only said, Why has it taken so long for America to come back?"

According to Turner, the PCC will expand to about 120 volunteers by 2009. Eventually, the volunteers will move beyond English teaching into youth development, health and sanitation.

"We've been in Thailand for 45 years now," he said. "And we plan to be in Cambodia a long time, too."

The PCC's arrival comes at a time of increased United States efforts to cultivate closer ties with Cambodia.

In February, a US warship visited Cambodia for the first time in more than 30 years, and on February 15 President George W Bush signed a resolution lifting a near decade-long ban on direct aid to the Cambodian government. This follows the opening of a $60 million state-of-the-art embassy last year, as well as the establishment of an FBI office. The US is a key donor to Cambodia and accounts for more than 70 percent of Cambodia's garment exports.

US Embassy spokesman Jeff Daigle said there had been "a broadening and deepening" of US-Cambodia relations in recent times, and the establishment of the PCC was "symbolic" of this.

"The Peace Corps was set up so Americans at a grassroots level can do really good work," Daigle said on March 5. "But, on another level, also function as unofficial ambassadors for the US. The volunteers can go into villages in far-flung places where a Cambodian may never have met an American."

It's the volunteers' unofficial diplomatic role that has sparked controversy. Thrown out of Russia in 2002, amid accusations of spying, the Peace Corps has long been criticized as the "smiling face" of US foreign policy - and even a conduit for the CIA. Although the latter claim has never been substantiated, the Peace Corps' public relations function is integral to its mandate.

When former US President John F Kennedy established the organization in 1961, the Soviet Union was sending teachers and technicians to developing countries and Cuba's Fidel Castro had just come to power. To counter the spread of communism, Kennedy popularized the notion of an "army" of young Americans acting as "missionaries of democracy," and charged the Peace Corps with combating notions of "Yankee imperialism," and "ugly Americans."

Some 40 years later, in his first State of the Union address after the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks on the US, Bush linked public service to the "War on Terror." Echoing Kennedy, Bush appealed for all Americans "to commit at least two years - 4,000 hours over the rest of your lifetime - to the service of your neighbors and your nation." As such, he promised a doubling in size of the Peace Corps in order "to extend the compassion of our country to every part of the world."

In Prey Chhor village, the idealism is more tempered. Conscious of America's tarnished reputation and the world's intractable problems, platitudes do not come easily to the volunteers.

Felicidad Garcia, 23, of Florida, said joining the Peace Corps was something she'd wanted to do since she first heard about it in high school.

"I guess I wanted to save the world," she said. "No, actually, nobody 'saves the world.' I'm just trying to help."

As the volunteers struggle with the heat, and stumble over the sounds of Khmer, they speak of the two years ahead and discuss criticisms of their organization - and their government.

"I had serious conversations about it and you have to come to your own conclusions," said Zac Child, 22, from New Jersey. "But for me, it's about learning why people want the things that I'm able to take for granted. I'm not overly idealistic or romantic about this. I know I will gain more than I can give. I guess I just want to make myself a better American."

The volunteers did not choose Cambodia - the organization only allows applicants to specify regional preferences - but they now speak of excitement, eagerness and gratitude for the welcome they've received.

"All over the world the way people think about America is on a downward slope, so I expected some resistance here," Barker said. "But the people are so open and receptive. Given their recent history, and our history, you'd think they'd be more closed."

Apart from the spiders, the language difficulties and stomach complaints, Barker said she has had little trouble settling in. She'll spend her next 24 months stationed in a sleepy village in Svay Rieng province, near the Vietnamese border and a site of major US bombing raids. Between 1969 and 1973 the US dropped more than half a million tons of high explosives on eastern Cambodia - more than three times the quantity dropped on Japan during World War II.

"The biggest problem is that my family want to feed me too much and I can't eat it all," Barker said. "And then I feel embarrassed about saying no."

This article first appeared in the Phnom Penh Post

A Midnight Juggernaut

Two Melbourne lads are launching nothing less than a juggernaut of dark disco pop. Allister Hayman meets them to find out from whence the music comes.

VINCENT and Andy Juggernaut have been ankle deep in water all afternoon. Midnight Juggernauts' new studio flooded overnight, submerging equipment and ruining the floor. With sodden feet they spent the afternoon shifting gear to Andy's bedroom, where they added the finishing touches to a track for their upcoming album. They even fixed the studio plumbing.

Vincent and Andy, aka Noriega and Gadaffi, aka Midnight Juggernauts, are the toast of Melbourne's music scene.

After selling-out three issues of their first EP, their second instalment, Secrets of the Universe, was even hotter property: it sold out within a week. Their singles 45 and Rising and Shadows are on high rotation on Triple J, with the latter also featuring on Cut Copy's Fabric mix; they've supported the Scissor Sisters, Annie and MSTRKRFT, and have head-lined their own coast-to-coast Australian tour. In between they released a mini-album in Japan and played packed-out shows in Europe. With their debut album due early 2007, they're now set for a synth-rockin' summer.

Yet they remain unsigned and defiantly independent.

Midnight Juggernauts' recorded, mixed and produced their EPs on their label Siberia and maintain complete control of their image and sound. "We've had a DIY approach from the beginning," Vincent explains. "I recorded the vocals for the first few tunes in my living room. When we mixed the tracks down we could hear my cats meowing in the background. And in my screamy bits you could hear the dog howling next door. We kept them all in to add atmosphere."

"We've had offers from major labels, but we've been pretty happy doing things ourselves. It's cool to be able juggle all the creative outlets of being in a band – not just the songs but doing the art works, the posters, the film clips. We really enjoy keeping control of that and choosing how to promote and expose ourselves."

Vincent considers the internet a great leveller for up and coming bands: with a Myspace site bands can build a support base, make contacts, and remain independent as they grow. "Through our Myspace page we've been contacted by indie labels from France to Brazil, as well as some majors," Vincent says. "We were just contacted through our page by Mercury from the UK who look after Kanye West and Metallica and were asked to do a remix for one of their upcoming acts. I still feel like a nerd logging into Myspace but now I can justify it by saying it's for business purposes."

The band has released a couple of 12"s in the UK on Cut Copy's Cutters label and Vincent says their fellow Melbourne synth-rockers have been a big help. "They've been great with the networking. So far a few labels over there have been interested but I can't really say who just yet. Australia isn't that big and the DIY thing has worked fine here but now we're looking to the UK we'll sign with someone over there."

It's difficult not to talk about Cut Copy when you talk about Midnight Juggernauts. Not because they sound the same – they don't- but because they've emerged from the same scene, and it's not a large one.

If Cut Copy are synth-rockers for listless summer days - all gin and tonics, wistful hearts and frisbee in the park - then Midnight Juggernauts are their dark alter egos: strange creatures of the night with a sound that references cornball horror flicks, Michael Jackson's Thriller and death metal, as much as Cut Copy references French house. They create a crossover sound, wrought with tension, which slays the dance floor while remaining drenched in the emotion of classic indie-pop.

Friends since the age of 13, Andy and Vincent have been making music together since 2003. After various stints in metal outfits and the odd foray into Daftpunk style house, Midnight Juggernauts started out playing house parties, before graduating into the usual rock venues. After some teething troubles with staunchly OZ-Rock crowds, they built a following as punters realised they could wear leather jackets, skinny jeans and dance too.

And dance they do. Voted Melbourne's most exciting live act the two-piece, with the addition of a live drummer, cut a modest stage presence: Vincent stands tall and lean behind his keyboard; Andy, lost under a hoodie, hunches over his guitar while Thunderfist –Mitchell from Cut Copy or Myles from Wolfmother - sits largely anonymous behind the drums. But when the music kicks the crowd jumps and hollers - and it's hard not to: the infectious blend of dance-floor rock could win over the most hardened guitar-head.

After packing-out 1000 capacity venues on their national tour –remarkable for a band without an album to their name - Vincent promises their summer shows will be even more spectacular, with "pyrotechnics, lasers, and water features." He's half-joking, but even so, they hardly need it.

The live show is what the band is all about, but Vincent says they prefer to curate unique events rather than gigging merely for gigging's sake. "We're not the kind of band that just plays a lot of shows, for the money or whatever," Vincent says. "When we agree to do a show or plan a show we want it to be a really good party. We like doing one off parties in venues that may not normally be a music venue. We played in a canyon of shipping containers down at the docks once, which was pretty cool. We like to choose somewhere special and make something of the night."

One such event, their Michael Jackson Benefit Concert, organized to raise funds for the gloved one's legal defence, stirred some controversy. "It was a joke that was taken a bit seriously by the press," Vincent explains. "We wanted to do it as a concept for a party and thought it'd be fun to contact the newspapers. But then there was this serious reaction and child protection agencies started commenting. It all got a bit out of hand."

The band is adept at mischief making. Inspired by hip hoppers' penchant for absurd monikers, like 'Ol Dirty Bastard and Snoop, Vincent and Andy adopted the names Gaddafi and Noriega and wore full military uniforms on stage. Their portraits as dictators can still be seen on their web site.

But now they're more focused on the music. After dabbling in various side projects, including a film sound track and remix work, their debut album is well under way. "This year we made a conscious decision to take things more seriously," Vincent says. "Though I haven't written up a manifesto yet - I should probably do that. I guess it will revolve around the importance of not choosing a studio that spontaneously floods itself."

Vincent and Andy may have wet feet but, with their playful and carefully crafted dance-noir sound, they're unleashing an indie-pop juggernaut.

Midnight Juggernauts EP, "Secrets of the Universe," is available now on Siberia.

A version of this article first appeared in the 2006/07 Summer edition of PAVEMENT magazine.

I HEART NYPC

London punk pop five piece the New Young Pony Club are the darlings of the taste maker crowd. Allister Hayman meets them to find out what all the fuss is about.

"RAVE is quite complex. We're not sure we can do some of the grooves. I think Talking Heads style grooves are a lot easier."

Andy Spence, guitarist of disco punk act The New Young Pony Club, laughs off suggestions his band is part of a "Nu-Rave" scene. In Australia for the first time, Andy and lead-singer Tahita Bulmer are struggling to shake off jet lag. They sip tea, apologize for being grumpy, and proceed to talk over each other like old friends.

"The NME are only playing with about three genres at the moment and it all seems a bit arbitrary," Tahita says of the so-called Nu-Rave scene. "But they're just trying to encapsulate a movement where people are writing music that's influenced by dance music."

Andy and Tahita, or Ty, both from London, came together three years ago after discovering a shared enthusiasm for DFA, The Rapture and LCD Soundsystem. "We wanted to make something strong, bold and colourful," Ty says. "And we just started experimenting with different sounds."

Both have played in bands since their early teens and cite a plethora of influences, but mainly late seventies post-punk. "But we're not a po-faced kind of band," Andy says. "We can get down to Madonna as much as any post-punk band. We like to have fun with it."

Together the duo is the creative force behind the London-based five-piece. "Essentially I record all the instruments - mostly on my own in the studio first," Andy explains. "I'll create the music then Ty will come in and work on the vocals and we'll shape it together. When we're happy with it, we take it to the band and it evolves again."

The band, Igor Folk – on bass; Lou Hayter– on keyboard; and Sarah Jones on drums, along with Ty and Andy, have been playing together for two years. After releasing a couple of seductive tracks on a minor imprint and impressing with the energy of their live show, they signed to Modular Recordings last year. "We wanted a relatively independent label that also had some muscle behind it," Ty says. "We wanted the best of both worlds and that seemed to be what Modular was."

NYPC released an eponymous EP last year, which included the provocative hit Ice Cream, and now with the release of their debut album – likely to be one of the best of 2007 – the band is set to break through.

"When we play live most people seem to know about three or four songs so it's going to be great to get the album out there," Andy says. "It's taken a while but that's the nature of the business."
Despite the increasing attention, the band has kept a low profile, maintaining only a Myspace site, which Andy says has been deliberate. "Sometimes it's cool to have less information. In this know everything age, it's nice to just make it about the music…"

"Which is exactly as it should be," Ty says, capping Andy's sentence.

But with her Egyptian heritage, comb over mo-hawk and edgy fashion – not to mention her purring punkish vocals, Ty's now in danger of becoming a style icon. "We're in times when bands want to dress up," she says of NYPC's fashion. "I mean if you're going to go out in your fucking pyjamas then half the audience are going to be dressing better then you."

But this does not mean trading on her looks. "I've never liked that idea that women in this industry have to flirt to get where they want to go. You have to play the 'I don't know anything, protect me and mold me,' kind of game and I've always tried to avoid that."

"What she's talking about," Andy interjects, "is Girl Power."

"No! It's not girl power," Ty laughs. "That's all about punching the air and wearing large boots and being silly. I resent that. It's about saying you will speak to me as an equal and not force me to trade on some kind of psychosexual level. It's about being a proactive feminine force, which is what Ice Cream is all about."

Behind their seductive pop veneer NYPC, with their jerky angular rhythms and uncompromising attitude, have a sharp punk sensibility. "If we're disco punk then we're more disco on the record and more punk live," Ty concludes, sipping her tea. "I think that's the best way of putting it."

A version of this article first appeared in OYSTER magazine Photo: Kane Skennar