http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZH9Ty19YFY
Showing posts with label Lack of hygiene. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lack of hygiene. Show all posts
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
អ្នកនៅលើបឹងទន្លេសាបចោលសំរាមគ្មានការទទួលខុសត្រូវ
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| ភូមិបណ្តែតទឹកជនជាតិវៀតណាម នៅលើផ្ទៃទឹកបឹងទន្លេសាប នៅឃុំចុងឃ្នាស ក្នុងខេត្តសៀមរាប។ រូបថត ភ្នំពេញ ប៉ុស្តិ៍ |
Tuesday, 13 March 2012
លាង ប៊ុនណា
លិខិតមិត្តអ្នកអាន
The Phnom Penh Post
កាលពីថ្ងៃទី ៣០ មករា ឆ្នាំ ២០១២ ខ្ញុំ បានទៅលេងភូមិបណ្តែតទឹកមួយ នៅបឹងទន្លេសាប។ វាស្ថិតនៅតាមបណ្តោយផ្លូវជាតិលេខ ៦ ចម្ងាយប្រមាណ ៥០ គ.ម ពីក្រុងសៀមរាប នៅតាមផ្លូវទៅរាជធានីភ្នំពេញ។
កំពង់ឃ្លាំងជាតំបន់ទេសចរណ៍ធម្មជាតិមួយ ដែលជារឿយៗ ត្រូវបានជនបរទេស ទៅទស្សនា។ ខ្ញុំបានទៅលេងទីនេះជាច្រើនដងមកហើយ ទាំងនៅរដូវប្រាំង និងរដូវស្សា។ កន្លែងនេះ មានអ្វីខុសប្លែក អាស្រ័យលើពេលដែលអ្នកមកលេង។ នៅរដូវវស្សា នៅពេលដែលទឹកទន្លេមេគង្គឡើង បឹងទន្លេសាប មានផ្ទៃទឹកធំជាងធម្មតារហូតដល់ ៣ ដង ធ្វើឲ្យតំបន់ទេសចរណ៍កំពង់ឃ្លាំងកាន់តែមានភាពទាក់ទាញ។ បឹងទន្លេសាប ជាបឹងមួយ ក្នុងចំណោមបឹងធំបំផុតជាច្រើន នៅអាស៊ី។ ភូមិទាំងអស់ ដែលស្ថិតនៅតាមផ្ទៃបឹងនេះ ត្រូវទឹកជន់លិច ជាងនេះទៅទៀត រហូតដល់លិចផ្ទះឈើខ្ពស់ៗទៀតផង។ ពលរដ្ឋភាគច្រើន ស្នាក់នៅក្នុងផ្ទះ ហើយបានចេញមកលេងអ្នកជិតខាងដោយជិះទូក។ សិស្សសាលា ដូចតែគ្នាសុទ្ធតែជិះទូកតូចៗ ទៅសាលារៀន។ មិនមានការធ្វើដំណើរទៅកន្លែងឆ្ងាយៗច្រើនទេ។
តាមការអង្កេតរបស់ខ្ញុំ ពីដំណើរទស្សនកិច្ចលើកចុងក្រោយរបស់ខ្ញុំ នៅរដូវប្រាំង កន្លែងដែលមានអនាម័យគឺមិនមានទេ។ ផ្ទះភាគច្រើន មិនមានបង្គន់ទេ។ ពួកគេ បន្ទោបង់ និងបានចោលសំរាមទៅក្នុងទឹក។ ការបោះចោលសំរាម ដែលមិនមានការទទួលខុសត្រូវ គេអាចមើលឃើញនៅរដូវប្រាំងក្នុងពេលទឹកស្រក។ សំរាមប្លាស្ទិក មាននៅគ្រប់កន្លែងនៅពេញភូមិ។ ពលរដ្ឋ ត្រូវការឲ្យគេជូនដំណឹងឲ្យបានច្បាស់ថា កាកសំណល់ប្លាស្ទិកទាំងនេះ មិនរលាយទេ។ កំប៉ុងប្លាស្ទិក នៅជាប់បានយូរ និងបានបំផ្លាញបរិស្ថានផងដែរ ដែលជីវិតរបស់ពួកគេ ពឹងយ៉ាងខ្លាំងលើវា។ កាកសំណល់ប្លាស្ទិក មិនត្រឹមតែជាបញ្ហាបរិស្ថានប៉ុណ្ណោះទេ ប៉ុន្តែវាថែមទាំងក្លាយជាបញ្ហាជាតិមួយក្នុងចំណោមបញ្ហាជាច្រើន ផងដែរ។
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Life and the environment: Pollution of Daun Try River, Maung Russey District, Battambang Province
Video by Uon Chhin, Radio Free Asia
Monday, May 24, 2010
9 die, 300 others suffer from diarrhea in Cambodia
PHNOM PENH, May 23 (Xinhua) -- At least nine Cambodians have died and about 300 others have been medically treated and hospitalized by diarrhea in Cambodia's northeast province of Kratie, a provincial official said Sunday.
Chhneang Vutha, chief of Kratie provincial health department, told Xinhua by telephone from the province that at least nine people have died and about 300 others have been medically treated and hospitalized by diarrhea since March this year.
He said five districts in the province have been affected by the cause of diarrhea, and he attributed the deaths and suffering of the disease to lack of personal sanitation precaution as well as the lack of toilets in rural areas.
The first diarrhea case was reported in March this year during the dry season which normally begins from November through April.
Kratie is located about 320 kilometers northeast of Phnom Penh.
Recently, Cambodia's Prime Minister Hun Sen has alerted his people to take more precaution on several causes including diarrhea and lighting that are harmful to human lives in recent months.
He, also, appealed to doctors and health officers around the country to provide more care to the people.
Chhneang Vutha, chief of Kratie provincial health department, told Xinhua by telephone from the province that at least nine people have died and about 300 others have been medically treated and hospitalized by diarrhea since March this year.
He said five districts in the province have been affected by the cause of diarrhea, and he attributed the deaths and suffering of the disease to lack of personal sanitation precaution as well as the lack of toilets in rural areas.
The first diarrhea case was reported in March this year during the dry season which normally begins from November through April.
Kratie is located about 320 kilometers northeast of Phnom Penh.
Recently, Cambodia's Prime Minister Hun Sen has alerted his people to take more precaution on several causes including diarrhea and lighting that are harmful to human lives in recent months.
He, also, appealed to doctors and health officers around the country to provide more care to the people.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
A poisoned paradise: water water everywhere
The floating villages of Chong Khneas are one of the great spectacles of Cambodia. But pollution and climate change pose a deadly threat to their lifestyle, as Rob Sharp reports
Thursday, 20 March 2008
The Independent (UK)
In the middle of South-east Asia's largest freshwater lake – Cambodia's Tonle Sap – lives "Hot Sam". The 55-year-old fisherman crouches in his self-built home, a shack, buoyed on a bed of bamboo and anchored to the lake bed two metres beneath him.
As he bobs above the murky water, rickety motorboats full of tourists chug past taking pictures. Gazing across his ramshackle fiefdom, Hot Sam opens his mouth and flashes a brown smile of rotten teeth.
The grinning gaze takes in the remarkable scene of the floating villages of Chong Khneas, one of the highlights of the country's burgeoning tourist industry and a natural, watery spectacle of abundance. On the surface, Tonle Sap and its natural resources ought to be a rich provider for its residents. And unsurprisingly for a fisherman living in a floating village, water is at the centre of everything in life for Hot Sam and his sizeable family. Their drinking water comes straight from the lake and the fisherman describes their little precautionary ritual before they drink it. The family collects the water, they then let it settle and drink it.
This is the same water in which they freely defecate, the same water in which they wash and the same shrinking body of water upon which they depend for livelihood. The population pressure which he has helped to create – with 11 family members – is making the pollution problem worse and helping to drive down the fish stocks on which they all rely. The spectre of climate change is starting to make itself felt in the low water levels and the precariousness of life is starkly apparent – even the houses' anchor lines are shaken as they get snagged in the propellers of passing boats.
"The weather now changes every year and we have no idea what to expect," bemoans Sam. "The rainy season is much more irregular than it was 15 years ago. Our catch of fish is worse than ever. We have less to sell on once we have fed ourselves, and we have to go further to get the same amount. Everything is getting harder and harder."
The floating villages which were originally set up as a place of refuge from the genocidal madness of the Khmer Rouge find that their fate has come to reflect the less gruesome but nonetheless deadly challenges facing Cambodia now.
Hot Sam is living in the wrong half of the developing world. He is one of the 2.6 billion people on the planet who live without access to basic sanitation. Today is World Water Day, a UN-backed initiative which aims to highlight this. But sometimes the impact of such campaigns can be diluted through their over-use of meaningless jargon. The truth on the ground, or rather on the water, is that in Cambodia – one of the poorest countries in the world – its population of 14 million cannot get access to the basics: latrines, clean water for drinking and washing. If this continues, its high mortality rates, which mean some 83 children out of 1,000 perish before they are five, are destined to persist.
Such a bleak situation may surprise the tourists who pay a handful of dollars to take a tour around the floating villages. The 800-odd households, which accommodate some 6,000 people, can look bewitching to a newcomer. The truth is bleaker still. The eight floating villages were set up in the 1970s by farmers seeking refuge from the Khmer Rouge, who had confiscated their land. Added to the mix are a plethora of illegal Vietnamese immigrants (who make up a third of the population); they live separately and are often blamed for the overfishing problem (throwing dynamite into the lake is a common accusation).
Floating past houses, villagers can be seen listless, dozing in hammocks or on straw mats. Their homes, often used to accommodate as many as a dozen people, are no bigger than your average European kitchen. The walls are cobbled together using anything that lies, or floats to hand – and need to be replaced regularly once the rot sets in. Once spent, they can be stripped off and used for fuel.
When fish stocks dwindle, some opt to sell batteries as a source of income, which their neighbours can use to power their televisions or music equipment. Or they can sell kerosene lamps, still used by the majority of people in the country for night light. Fish are held in place in specially-crafted pens, which are hammered to the shallow bed by men stripped to the waist, seemingly oblivious to the film of murk through which they break every time they dive.
But, despite the villagers' apparent success in adverse conditions, fresh obstacles are never far away. For one, Hot Sam's attitude towards drinking and allowing his children to play in the lake-water seems to be common among many of those living here. The area is woefully under-resourced – there is apparently only one school and one health centre – and there is little evidence of the educational work and resource provisions which organisations such as the British Red Cross are carrying out in more remote parts of the country.
Lach Mean, a 72-year-old who lives in a shack in which some of her grandchildren sell batteries to the surrounding villagers, shouts over the roar of a motorboat which has become entangled in the anchoring rope of a nearby house. She says that three generations of her family have lived here, but admits to defecating directly into the water because there is no access to a latrine. That is the way it's always been done, she says. But this takes its toll. She adds: "Our life is very difficult. Often our skin is itchy and this can become infected for days."
Indeed, while hygiene is being taught by the local school through the simple message of "don't swim in the lake", it is doubtful how much is sinking in.
Anchored to the banks of the Tonle Sap, is the Chong Khneas primary school, which teaches 528 students in a country where almost half the population is under 15. Many of the pupils here know they should not play in the water but do so anyway.
One of their teachers, Ean Sophon, 30, says: "Many of the children suffer from fever and sometimes diarrhoea from playing in the water either during school hours or when they are at home. We see kids with scabies and itching, and they are often off school for up to five days at a time with such problems. We try to teach them the difference between dirty and clean bath water, and the basics of personal hygiene. But it is hard."
The repercussions of swimming in or drinking dirty water is the entrance of disease-causing bacteria into the food; one of the most common afflictions caused is diarrhoea, and if this is not properly treated it can lead to dehydration, and even death. Those working in a health centre on nearby dry land say that of the 200 people they treat every month, around a quarter are suffering from diarrhoea or skin disease; the next most common problems are colds and tonsillitis.
The lack of fishing is also becoming a distinct problem; both Hot Sam and Lach Mean complain that catches are poorer than ever. One of the reasons for this is that the system of traditional flooding of the Tonle Sap by the Mekong river has been upset.
In times past, the melting peaks of the Himalayas and wet season monsoons (which normally end in October) forced the level of the river to rise so quickly that the flow of the river reversed at Phnom Penh, filling up the Tonle Sap by five times its original 2,500sq km size every wet season. After this, its level drops gradually until the wet season begins again the following May. At the end of this wet period in November, the floodwaters have panned out to the forest surrounding the Tonle Sap, carrying fertile sediment and fish larvae with them, and populating a natural nursery ground. As the forests drained, the fish migrated back to the Mekong, via the lake, and this was when the floating villagers got their catch. But a spate of dam building on the Mekong in China is blamed for diminished flows downriver; and the reduced dispersal of fish. The effects are everywhere.
And then there is climate change. Villagers such as Hot Sam normally move their residences up to a dozen times annually to avoid damage from changing water levels. But in a year when he says the water is lower than it has been at any point in the past 20 years, such regular disturbances are beginning to reach crisis point.
The slow-moving process of migrating from one spot on the lake to another is estimated to consume up to a fifth of residents' income. Grim, considering that three million Cambodians live on under a dollar a day.
Elsewhere in the country – for example in the remote northern province of Oddar Meanchey – the effects of global warming are more profound. Farmers are complaining of their worst rice harvests in decades.
Hot Sam lights up a cigarette and smiles at the world. Even while the future looks muddy, he greets future vagaries with typical Cambodian diffidence. It is common to see such optimism in a country that has seen great hardship in a variety of forms for many, many years.
Thursday, 20 March 2008
The Independent (UK)
In the middle of South-east Asia's largest freshwater lake – Cambodia's Tonle Sap – lives "Hot Sam". The 55-year-old fisherman crouches in his self-built home, a shack, buoyed on a bed of bamboo and anchored to the lake bed two metres beneath him.
As he bobs above the murky water, rickety motorboats full of tourists chug past taking pictures. Gazing across his ramshackle fiefdom, Hot Sam opens his mouth and flashes a brown smile of rotten teeth.
The grinning gaze takes in the remarkable scene of the floating villages of Chong Khneas, one of the highlights of the country's burgeoning tourist industry and a natural, watery spectacle of abundance. On the surface, Tonle Sap and its natural resources ought to be a rich provider for its residents. And unsurprisingly for a fisherman living in a floating village, water is at the centre of everything in life for Hot Sam and his sizeable family. Their drinking water comes straight from the lake and the fisherman describes their little precautionary ritual before they drink it. The family collects the water, they then let it settle and drink it.
This is the same water in which they freely defecate, the same water in which they wash and the same shrinking body of water upon which they depend for livelihood. The population pressure which he has helped to create – with 11 family members – is making the pollution problem worse and helping to drive down the fish stocks on which they all rely. The spectre of climate change is starting to make itself felt in the low water levels and the precariousness of life is starkly apparent – even the houses' anchor lines are shaken as they get snagged in the propellers of passing boats.
"The weather now changes every year and we have no idea what to expect," bemoans Sam. "The rainy season is much more irregular than it was 15 years ago. Our catch of fish is worse than ever. We have less to sell on once we have fed ourselves, and we have to go further to get the same amount. Everything is getting harder and harder."
The floating villages which were originally set up as a place of refuge from the genocidal madness of the Khmer Rouge find that their fate has come to reflect the less gruesome but nonetheless deadly challenges facing Cambodia now.
Hot Sam is living in the wrong half of the developing world. He is one of the 2.6 billion people on the planet who live without access to basic sanitation. Today is World Water Day, a UN-backed initiative which aims to highlight this. But sometimes the impact of such campaigns can be diluted through their over-use of meaningless jargon. The truth on the ground, or rather on the water, is that in Cambodia – one of the poorest countries in the world – its population of 14 million cannot get access to the basics: latrines, clean water for drinking and washing. If this continues, its high mortality rates, which mean some 83 children out of 1,000 perish before they are five, are destined to persist.
Such a bleak situation may surprise the tourists who pay a handful of dollars to take a tour around the floating villages. The 800-odd households, which accommodate some 6,000 people, can look bewitching to a newcomer. The truth is bleaker still. The eight floating villages were set up in the 1970s by farmers seeking refuge from the Khmer Rouge, who had confiscated their land. Added to the mix are a plethora of illegal Vietnamese immigrants (who make up a third of the population); they live separately and are often blamed for the overfishing problem (throwing dynamite into the lake is a common accusation).
Floating past houses, villagers can be seen listless, dozing in hammocks or on straw mats. Their homes, often used to accommodate as many as a dozen people, are no bigger than your average European kitchen. The walls are cobbled together using anything that lies, or floats to hand – and need to be replaced regularly once the rot sets in. Once spent, they can be stripped off and used for fuel.
When fish stocks dwindle, some opt to sell batteries as a source of income, which their neighbours can use to power their televisions or music equipment. Or they can sell kerosene lamps, still used by the majority of people in the country for night light. Fish are held in place in specially-crafted pens, which are hammered to the shallow bed by men stripped to the waist, seemingly oblivious to the film of murk through which they break every time they dive.
But, despite the villagers' apparent success in adverse conditions, fresh obstacles are never far away. For one, Hot Sam's attitude towards drinking and allowing his children to play in the lake-water seems to be common among many of those living here. The area is woefully under-resourced – there is apparently only one school and one health centre – and there is little evidence of the educational work and resource provisions which organisations such as the British Red Cross are carrying out in more remote parts of the country.
Lach Mean, a 72-year-old who lives in a shack in which some of her grandchildren sell batteries to the surrounding villagers, shouts over the roar of a motorboat which has become entangled in the anchoring rope of a nearby house. She says that three generations of her family have lived here, but admits to defecating directly into the water because there is no access to a latrine. That is the way it's always been done, she says. But this takes its toll. She adds: "Our life is very difficult. Often our skin is itchy and this can become infected for days."
Indeed, while hygiene is being taught by the local school through the simple message of "don't swim in the lake", it is doubtful how much is sinking in.
Anchored to the banks of the Tonle Sap, is the Chong Khneas primary school, which teaches 528 students in a country where almost half the population is under 15. Many of the pupils here know they should not play in the water but do so anyway.
One of their teachers, Ean Sophon, 30, says: "Many of the children suffer from fever and sometimes diarrhoea from playing in the water either during school hours or when they are at home. We see kids with scabies and itching, and they are often off school for up to five days at a time with such problems. We try to teach them the difference between dirty and clean bath water, and the basics of personal hygiene. But it is hard."
The repercussions of swimming in or drinking dirty water is the entrance of disease-causing bacteria into the food; one of the most common afflictions caused is diarrhoea, and if this is not properly treated it can lead to dehydration, and even death. Those working in a health centre on nearby dry land say that of the 200 people they treat every month, around a quarter are suffering from diarrhoea or skin disease; the next most common problems are colds and tonsillitis.
The lack of fishing is also becoming a distinct problem; both Hot Sam and Lach Mean complain that catches are poorer than ever. One of the reasons for this is that the system of traditional flooding of the Tonle Sap by the Mekong river has been upset.
In times past, the melting peaks of the Himalayas and wet season monsoons (which normally end in October) forced the level of the river to rise so quickly that the flow of the river reversed at Phnom Penh, filling up the Tonle Sap by five times its original 2,500sq km size every wet season. After this, its level drops gradually until the wet season begins again the following May. At the end of this wet period in November, the floodwaters have panned out to the forest surrounding the Tonle Sap, carrying fertile sediment and fish larvae with them, and populating a natural nursery ground. As the forests drained, the fish migrated back to the Mekong, via the lake, and this was when the floating villagers got their catch. But a spate of dam building on the Mekong in China is blamed for diminished flows downriver; and the reduced dispersal of fish. The effects are everywhere.
And then there is climate change. Villagers such as Hot Sam normally move their residences up to a dozen times annually to avoid damage from changing water levels. But in a year when he says the water is lower than it has been at any point in the past 20 years, such regular disturbances are beginning to reach crisis point.
The slow-moving process of migrating from one spot on the lake to another is estimated to consume up to a fifth of residents' income. Grim, considering that three million Cambodians live on under a dollar a day.
Elsewhere in the country – for example in the remote northern province of Oddar Meanchey – the effects of global warming are more profound. Farmers are complaining of their worst rice harvests in decades.
Hot Sam lights up a cigarette and smiles at the world. Even while the future looks muddy, he greets future vagaries with typical Cambodian diffidence. It is common to see such optimism in a country that has seen great hardship in a variety of forms for many, many years.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Cambodia to spend more to guarantee clean water, satiation for rural people
PHNOM PENH, Nov. 13 (Xinhua) -- The Cambodian government will try to make 50 percent of its rural people live with clean water and qualified satiation and 30 percent with toilets at home in 2015, an official said here on Tuesday.
The government will spend over 430,000 U.S. dollars for sanitation and clean water next year, said Chea Samnang, head of the healthcare department for rural areas at the Ministry of Rural Development, while marking the country's first National Sanitation Day.
On the same occasion, Yim Chay Ly, secretary of state at the Ministry of Rural Development, said that currently, some 70 percent of the kingdom's 14 million people, especially those in the rural areas, live without toilet at home, while a large percentage of them have no access to safe water.
This results in the rampancy of diarrhea, typhoid and hookworm intestines, he said.
Lack of sanitation and clean water also led to 20 percent of the death of those under five years old, he added.
Meanwhile, Prime Minister Hun Sen said that this problem has made the Cambodians live in poverty and it is one of the major obstacles in the economic development of the country.
Only 16 percent people live with qualified sanitation and this ratio is far behind other ASEAN (the Association of Southeast AsiaNations) countries, he added.
According to a study by the Economic Institute of Cambodia, theoverall economic loss from poor sanitation and lack of clean waterstands at 448 million U.S. dollars a year in the kingdom, equal to7.1 percent of its GPD, while some 10,000 people die annually due to the problem.
Most Cambodians are in rural areas and 35 percent of them live in poverty.
The government will spend over 430,000 U.S. dollars for sanitation and clean water next year, said Chea Samnang, head of the healthcare department for rural areas at the Ministry of Rural Development, while marking the country's first National Sanitation Day.
On the same occasion, Yim Chay Ly, secretary of state at the Ministry of Rural Development, said that currently, some 70 percent of the kingdom's 14 million people, especially those in the rural areas, live without toilet at home, while a large percentage of them have no access to safe water.
This results in the rampancy of diarrhea, typhoid and hookworm intestines, he said.
Lack of sanitation and clean water also led to 20 percent of the death of those under five years old, he added.
Meanwhile, Prime Minister Hun Sen said that this problem has made the Cambodians live in poverty and it is one of the major obstacles in the economic development of the country.
Only 16 percent people live with qualified sanitation and this ratio is far behind other ASEAN (the Association of Southeast AsiaNations) countries, he added.
According to a study by the Economic Institute of Cambodia, theoverall economic loss from poor sanitation and lack of clean waterstands at 448 million U.S. dollars a year in the kingdom, equal to7.1 percent of its GPD, while some 10,000 people die annually due to the problem.
Most Cambodians are in rural areas and 35 percent of them live in poverty.
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