 |
|
| ||||
|
| ||||
| ||||
|
REDEFINING
BUSINESS |
 |
June 29, 2001 Bernard Krisher: Healing the Killing Fields A former in-your-face journalist saw Cambodia up close before the Khmer Rouge marched in. He's hoping the Internet will help the country's people grasp the future and leave the dark past behind by GINA CHON
The village of Robib, in the northern Cambodian province of Preah Vihear, is the petri dish for Krisher's experiment in bridging the digital divide. This remote hamlet was inaccessible to outsiders until two years ago. The nearest hospital is a two-hour drive away on a good day, and it takes six hours to reach Phnom Penh. Piped water, electricity and telephones are unavailable to the inhabitants, whose annual per-capita income is about $37. The village clinic has a stethoscope, a blood-pressure cuff and a small refrigerator to store vaccinations — when they are available. But Robib has Internet access, thanks to Krisher's two nonprofit organizations, American Assistance for Cambodia and Japan Relief for Cambodia. With donations solicited by Krisher and matching funds from the World Bank, the two groups have been building Internet-linked rural schools in which Cambodian children learn how to connect to the rest of the world through e-mail and the Web. Robib's Wakako Hironaka School — named after the donor, a Japanese parliamentarian — was the first fruit of Krisher's project. The computers there are powered by solar panels and generators; a satellite dish donated by Shin Satellite of Thailand provides the Internet link. Besides teaching children to be wired, the computers have brought world-class health care to the village through a telemedicine project that links Robib with Phnom Penh's Sihanouk Hospital Center of Hope, which Krisher helped establish, and Partners Telemedicine, a Boston-based firm staffed by doctors from the Harvard Medical School and the Massachusetts General Hospital. The villagers are also able to participate in e-commerce: Robib has set up its own website, www.villageleap.com, through which it sells handcrafted silk products to overseas buyers. The venture has so far raised more than $6,000, and the money is to be used to set up a pig farm. "The Internet is helping develop a whole village in a remote area of Cambodia," says Krisher. "This is the answer to (Microsoft founder) Bill Gates's question of how a computer can benefit someone earning a dollar a day." The relationship between Cambodia and the man dubbed a "one-man United Nations" goes back to the 1960s, when Krisher covered the country as a Newsweek correspondent. "In the 1960s, Phnom Penh was beautiful, like a small Paris," he recalls. "Then the Khmer Rouge came in and everything fell apart." After retiring from journalism, Krisher threw himself into rebuilding the country. He started by bringing in material aid like canned food and shoes. Then he launched the English-language Cambodia Daily and established Phnom Penh's Future Light Orphanage, where the children were taught the Internet, before turning his attention to Robib. Krisher's numerous contacts from his correspondent days — whom he regularly hits up for donations — and his stubborn tenacity have been crucial to the success of his projects. "A lot of times I think his ideas are crazy," says his personal assistant Nuon So Thero. "But somehow they work because he pushes very hard and knows a lot of people who make it come together." Not everyone is a believer. Krisher's determination to get his way has earned him the nickname of "Bernie Pusher," and some question whether Krisher's high-tech approach is really appropriate for a country that still lacks basic services. "He has the ability to get people to commit resources to his project," says Bill Herod of the NGO Forum on Cambodia, which coordinates the activities of 60 local and foreign nongovernmental organizations. "The question is whether those resources are appropriate for Cambodia." Still, Krisher's single-minded dedication to his cause has earned him much praise. Just ask Robib resident Thoung Pou. A few months ago, as part of the telemedicine project, 30 patients from the village sent their medical information and digital photos to Phnom Penh and Boston over the Internet. The doctors immediately diagnosed Thoung Pou's 10-month-old daughter with a life-threatening case of tuberculosis and arranged for the child to be sent to the Kompong Thom provincial hospital, which is a partner in the telemedicine project. "I don't know what the Internet is," says her mother. "I just know my situation would have been hopeless (without the project)." Krisher himself has no doubts about the benefits his ventures have brought. "Before the kids in my orphanage knew how to use the Internet, their fate would have been being prostitutes or cyclo drivers," he says. "Now they want to be computer teachers." And that is surely Krisher's crowning achievement: the restoration of hope. Write to Asiaweek at mail@web.asiaweek.com |
|
|
|
|
|
| ||
| Back to the top | © 2001
Asiaweek. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Read our privacy guidelines. | |
.gif){kind=spacer}
.gif){kind=spacer}
