Paper Hummers offered to deceased ancestors in an annual religious
ceremony (they had lots of paper Lexus models, too)

I’m back from Cambodia after a great trip. I took four young Japanese women who all had potentially life changing experiences as they connected, shared their lives, and served in very simple ways.  I’ll be posting photos and stories in the coming days. Some of us worked to make a short fictional movie — a first for me — and I’ll post that when it’s ready.

One day I had a conversation with a young Cambodian woman who works at the children’s community (for children orphaned by and sometimes living with HIV/AIDS). She is having a positive impact with the kids, and I’m grateful she’s there. But she is afraid that life will pass her by. She would like to “reach her full potential” and that, apparently, means earning lots of money. She dreams of buying a Lexus 4×4 land rover, the status symbol de jour in her country. She might settle for a different brand 4×4 with “Lexus” painted on the side.

My first reaction wasn’t helpful. I looked at her with incredulity and asked, “Why?!”  When I’m at the orphanage, the allure of materialism fades (although it’s different when I’m in a camera store). Anyway, the answer was obvious to her. She grew up in poverty I can’t comprehend. Anyone looking at her as a child would have said she had no chance to “make it.” One day, she says, she hopes to drive back to her old village in a Lexus. She says it will show the children that they can succeed, too. I suppose it might.

What she doesn’t realize is that most people in the world who are relatively wealthy have no interest in buying a Lexus. Most would prefer a sensible Toyota, and they would put their money in better investments like a house, property, eduction for their children, etc.

It’s hard to explain this, because a Lexus is the symbol of success for most Cambodians.

On the streets of Phnom Penh, there are three classes of motor driven vehicles: motorcycles (that transport entire families), old Toyota Camrys and Corrollas, and Lexus land rovers (and re-branded look-alikes) — plus a scattering of “Hummers” at the peak of the pyramid.

I wanted to change her mind, but changing minds is usually a futile business. We learn for ourselves when we’re ready. Mainly, I wanted her to know that her life is significant. What she is doing now is far greater work merely making money, and if she dies following a calling to love others then she will have spent her life well.

Why don’t I want a Lexus? I’m not interested. (She said that a Lexus is extremely comfortable to sit in, so I suggested she buy a nice sofa.) But the other day I was reading somewhat longingly about the newest Leica M8 digital camera (the Ferrari of cameras, in the reviewer’s words). I know what it’s like to want things, and how owning certain things just make you feel better about yourself for awhile (until you see you’re still the same person or photographer as before).

On a deeper note, the more (and bigger) things we have, the more we are afraid of losing them. And fear drives a wedge into my relationships; fear is the opposite of love.

I was reminded of this in a funny way today. I saw a post on Kottke about a lottery winner’s first reaction after winning 30 million dollars:

I went to the lottery’s website after finding the ticket and realized that I had won. I freaked out ran up to my apartment’s door and locked all the locks. It was completely irrational.

Admittedly, after unlocking the doors and coming outside, this person has had quite a bit of fun spending the money.

A boy begs outside the tinted windows of a Land Cruiser in Phnom Penh
(Lexus/Land Cruiser — almost the same and sometimes exactly the same)