101 uses for a krama

"A krama​ is a sturdy traditional Cambodian garment with many uses." Right on, Wikipedia.

The Krama Gets Political

Another guest post! Philipe Felop gets serious here:

Human rights activists in Cambodia aren’t just lawyers working in offices. Everyone is and can be involved in the movement. Unfortunately, state oppression of freedom of expression and assembly is rampant. People are intimidated, assaulted, arrested, and even killed for what they say and do, with whom they associate, and for how they discuss political and civil affairs. 

But everyone in Cambodia owns and wears a krama. You can’t outlaw that anymore than you can ban the flip flop or fish pond. So how to quickly, cheaply, and safely self-identify as a righteous activist - and on a moment’s notice? The blue krama! As a flag, as a scarf, on your waist, around your head - show up at a rally with a blue krama and you have declared yourself firmly on the side of righteous struggle for the rights of all people in Cambodia. 

You can even staple your petition to the Cambodian government on a 230 meter long blue krama, signed by citizens demanding that they: ’… halt its intention of passing the Law on Associations and Non-Governmental Organizations, the Law on Trades Union and the Law on Farmers’ Cooperative which restrict the basic rights and freedoms of Cambodian citizens.“

Some krama!

IMAGE FROM LICADHO

Guest blogs continue to pour in like defrosting icicles! This comes from none other than Ann Littlewood, acclaimed author of the best damn zoo mysteries you’ll ever read, and author of yours truly too (hi mom!)

Carlos, Crystals, and a Krama

A few years ago, a Canadian friend inveigled me and spouse into visiting the Copper Canyon region of western Mexico with her and her teenage son. We all took the train (Chepe) from El Fuerte east to the town of Cerocahui, where we stayed at the Porochi Inn. The inn’s owner/guide led us on a wonderful hike, introduced us to a famous Tarahumara foot racer, and hauled his assorted guests off to Urique, a town at the bottom of the deepest canyon in North America—where we were hosted for lunch by a guy from McMinnville, a town forty miles from our house in Portland, Oregon. He had a pool where we dabbled our feet and watched little frogs, a welcome relief from the heat.

The road to Urique was steep and potholed, not much fun in an old van with no air conditioning.

When it was time to return, we had the option of walking partway back and took it, along with Carlos, a ten-year-old guide-in-training. The abundant goats alongside the road were amused by sweating tourists meandering uphill.

Carlos didn’t speak any English, at least not to us, and my Spanish goes up to “ocho.” But his passion was clear enough when he found a bunch of rocks in the road with pretty crystals.

Whether he was a budding geologist or thought he could sell them, I’ll never know. But he wanted those rocks. He fumbled around trying to carry them in his arms—all of them—getting frustrated when he couldn’t carry but a few.

Voila! I dug into my backpack and whipped out a krama, the genuine article from a little Cambodian stall. It was thin cotton, so I doubled it over. He bundled up his rocks—all of them—and gave me his first and only smile of the day.

When the van picked us up, he carefully put the rocks in the back and returned my krama with a shy “gracias.”

A small incident, but one that connected three countries, four if you count Canada, at least for one hot afternoon.

I’d like to welcome the first guest contributor to this infrequent and (sometimes) inept Tumblr. Luckily, the one and only Deirdre O'Shea (who you may have seen before) is on the ball, and has come through with a terrific usage. Read on for her words...

I’d like to welcome the first guest contributor to this infrequent and (sometimes) inept Tumblr. Luckily, the one and only Deirdre O'Shea (who you may have seen before) is on the ball, and has come through with a terrific usage. Read on for her words and evidentiary picture!

“Since before you leave the house, you always do the pocket check, it’s a safe bet that when you are gathering firewood you will have on you a trusty, sturdy, water-repellant accessory. A good thing too! Because what if a light rain begins? Rather than worry if your kindling will get all damp, you will have on hand the perfect solution.

Yes, the krama.”

Necessity is the mother of invention, yadda yadda yadda. It also helps if necessity happens to match the color of dried blood.

Every morning before I leave my apartment, I do a pocket check. Wallet, keys, phone, handkerchief. But what if all that gear is weighing your pants down? You’re going to need a belt something fierce. Swooping to the rescue - the krama. Photo from...

Every morning before I leave my apartment, I do a pocket check. Wallet, keys, phone, handkerchief. But what if all that gear is weighing your pants down? You’re going to need a belt something fierce. Swooping to the rescue - the krama.

Photo from Antelope Island, Utah, smack dab in the middle of the Great Salt Lake. Probably not the first time a krama was present on the island, but who knows?

Babies. We’ve heard all the arguments against them, but let’s not forget one thing - they ensure our continuation as a species, at least until cloning really gets going. So, what with these tiny humans around, we should probably use the tools at hand to carry and care for them. Like, oh, a krama.

The first photo is of a pretty amazing group of folks who lived in complete isolation in the jungle for about 30 years. I was lucky enough to tag along as Corinne Purtill Barton covered the story for The Cambodia Daily in 2004. The second photo comes from an instructional video on how not to use a car seat (note the stick-shift in the upper left hand corner).

Sure, you could have a backpack. Or a messenger bag. Or a tote. However, when you’re traveling light, heading into the mysterious woods, it’s as simple as pie to wrap your essentials in a krama, twirl them around, and tie a loop. There’s your bindle...

Sure, you could have a backpack. Or a messenger bag. Or a tote. However, when you’re traveling light, heading into the mysterious woods, it’s as simple as pie to wrap your essentials in a krama, twirl them around, and tie a loop. There’s your bindle (hobo-style stick optional). The krama - never leave home with it.

Photo of yours truly by naftels via Flickr

The krama as male casualwear. Keep in mind that Cambodia (and maybe where you are) is hot and humid. There’s not too much of a breeze. There’s all kind of things to do - kickbox, chop wood, or just stand around pioneering the camo & checks look.  So capitalize on what you can, and wrap up that krama into a sarong/lungi/man-skirt. Settle in and get comfy as you can. It’s the goddamn best.

Yeah, the krama is a classy, fashionable item, but let’s not get too precious. Because those road steeds you see there are pretty classy themselves, but need a little upkeep. So get the trusty ol’ krama soaped up and wash those beauties down.

Let’s say you’re stone cold driving an elephant. It’s like a lumbering convertible, so you’d best have some way to keep the sun from pounding into your brain. Voila, krama.