Problems

Last year a website called “First World Problems” launched as a forum for people to share the difficulties in their lives which are extremely insignificant and often laughable compared to the hardships faced by billions of people in the developing world. While I’ve never posted, I can think of some worthy material such as the time I arrived in Phnom Penh having withdrawn hundreds of dollars in cash in the US thinking I wouldn’t be able to find an ATM during my training in Cambodia. I simply didn’t know what to do with all my money! Should I carry it with me? Is it safe to leave it in my hotel room? Isn’t having all these bills in my wallet ruining the lining? These were all questions that crossed my mind. Not knowing what to do with all your money = perhaps the greatest first world problem of all time.

All of us, even lowly volunteers living in the (politically incorrect) “third world,” have first world problems, and many of us also have legitimate problems like student loan debt, failing health, crumbling relationships, or deep-seated loneliness. All people from all walks of life have troubles, things that worry them on a daily basis. What makes first world problems so ridiculous is the relative ease with which they could be solved or the great wealth (of education, money, status, etc.) that they imply.

After a long day of grappling with another first world problem, not being able to find a pendant in a very specific shape and size which I wanted to give as a birthday present to a friend next week, I found myself sitting next to someone whose monthly salary is only four times as much as I spent just looking for this gift, let alone buying it. Chet is a hard worker and a sincere friend. He arrives at Blue Chilli Bar early in the evenings to begin taking orders, mixing drinks, and hurriedly rushing beers and cocktails out to a large crowd which doesn’t easily yield walking space. During his time at Blue, he has gone through great pains to learn English well. It isn’t easy to understand so many different accents, and foreigners are much more critical and pushy than most Cambodians.

As the friends I had met up with left the bar, I was taking the last sip of my Coke when Chet called me over. He was sitting on a bench by himself looking somber. When I asked what was bothering him, he said he didn’t know what to do with his life. He’s been stuck with the stress and discomfort of working for over a year at a busy bar which welcomes both straight and gay patrons. As an uneducated gay man, it is one of only a few work possibilities he had when he left his small rural village to seek a better and freer life in Phnom Penh. Not only is there pressure to have perfect accounting for every drink sold, there’s also an implicit understanding that he should flirt and “be touchy” with customers to sell more alcohol.

“What option do I have?” he asked. I looked around the room and saw several young boys sitting alone or chatting with older men. So many young people sell themselves as “money boys” or “broken girls” as a quick way to make $20 they desperately need to support themselves, their families, and often their studies. For Chet, this isn’t an option. He wants one true love and won’t sacrifice his body for money. He’s willing to work hard to support himself, but not at the expense of his moral standard.

I reminded him that his English ability is very high and that his practice with foreigners from all over the world is a highly marketable skill. Unfortunately, he hasn’t been able to study past high school or take private computer classes, both requirements for most jobs with salaries over $125/month. “Your life is ok,” he said. “You’re from abroad, and even as a volunteer you have more than I do.” Beyond the $25 I blew that day looking for a gift, eating, visiting the bar, and staying overnight at a hotel, he was referring to much more than money.

Most Americans have enough money to survive, but beyond that we have so much which many Cambodians lack: free education of reliable quality, connections to friends and family who likely have the means to help us if we’re in a real pinch, community organizations and government funded programs aimed at aiding the disadvantaged, lines of credit in cases of emergency, etc. To put it shortly, we have agency. When we’re faced with a problem, we generally have several options to solve or circumvent it. However, even as a volunteer whose number one goal is to help develop skilled workers in Cambodia, I didn’t have an answer for Chet. The best I could suggest was further education, especially with information technology, but that would require months of saving just to be able to attend classes. There’s no quick fix, no fast track to success. “I didn’t know life was hard when I was a little boy,” Chet concluded, “but now I know.”

My mom has always taught me to keep my problems in perspective. Whenever things were hard for my family growing up, we always took time to think of the less advantaged. Even though we didn't have money to give, we volunteered at a Thanksgiving meal for the elderly or homeless, and I'll always remember my mom going out to do some hard labor helping the victims of the 1993 Mississippi flood. Even now my mom reminds me of the fortune we have just by having each other and by having a house, food, and good health.

Talking with Chet reminded me that almost all my problems are fairly inconsequential compared to what others are facing. The conversation also left me wondering how to best support those going through difficult times without much recourse. Perhaps the best we can do in times of trouble is count our blessings and think positively as we push forward making even small gains toward our lofty vision of happiness. In my experience, helping others has also been greatly uplifting. While we may not have much control over a given situation, we do have the ability to alter our perspective. We choose our own feelings and our own happiness; no one can do that for us.

Chet