Out of my depth in Cambodia - Ciaran Murtagh

One of the perks of my job is that I get to travel.

I am currently in Cambodia working with children and encouraging them to think creatively – something that, not that many years ago, would have got you removed to a detention centre.

It’s always inspiring to come to places like this. The vivacity of the children and the desire to learn and progress is a joy to behold. Many know just how much their parents have sacrificed in order to give them opportunities that they and previous generations did not have. They don’t want to waste any of it.

However, every day I am reminded that the same is not the case for every child in this country. It’s depressing, that travelling as a single white man of a certain age in this country comes with certain assumptions. I learned that telling anyone I was here to speak to children gives a VERY wrong impression.

It’s easy to be downhearted by the plight of so many in this country, and the difference in wealth is stark. However, as I visited the Killing Fields I was treated to the sound of children playing in the school yard next door. In this monument to past atrocities, the sound of hope for the future rang out. We should not forget that within my life time, schools were being converted into torture centres here. The fact that there’s any hope at all should be celebrated.

As I make my way home, one incident will stay with me for a long time. Last night I wandered out of the city and found a fairground. There was a tacky looking house of horrors attraction – you basically walked through a dark maze while ‘ghosts’ shouted boo. However, as I wandered about in the dark, it became clear to the teenage, minimum wage ‘ghosts’ that I wasn’t the usual customer – I was a white European – and instead of saying ‘boo’ I got, ‘hello, where are you from?’ and ended up with curious ghosts, Frankenstein monsters and vampires trailing me through the attraction asking me about the colour of my hair and whether I knew Lady Gaga.

It was symbolic of everything I’ve found out here. Young people want to learn, they want to ask questions and they want to get on. They didn’t see me as an outsider to be feared, they saw me as an opportunity for them to learn.

In a world increasingly divided by adults, let’s hope the kids protesting climate change, gun laws and yes, asking questions of a man they meet in a haunted house, prevail. I have a feeling they will, in a way the fact that I am able to come here at all proves that they have. 

Apologies for the lack of pics... normal service will resume next time.