by Michelle Tolson
-Cambodia-

On January 12th, 2012 I traveled 45 km outside of Phnom Penh with a group of human rights workers and journalists to a relocation site for the evictees of the Borei Keila slum, which had been demolished the prior week. Deeply tanned faces lined with anguish peered out of makeshift shelters. Grief was the dominant theme as they shared stories of the eviction proceedings. Up on a hill, the beautiful temples of Udong contrasted with the temporary homes below fashioned from tarps and blankets, propped up by sticks.

by Michelle Tolson
-Mongolia-

One night while relaxing at home after a long day of horseback riding, I heard a loud banging on a door downstairs. It was a man adamant to be let in. He was probably drunk. This type of thing had happened before. I thought nothing of it, but then I heard a woman scream. I also heard the man yell and throw things. I wanted to help, but I was too frightened. I did not know what to do.

I wanted to call the police, but I did not know the number. Besides, I was new to the country and did not speak the language. Would they even understand me? What was my address anyway? There were other people in the building who were quiet during the episode. Why did they not do anything? I heard the man leave and the woman crying below.