The wheels of the tuk-tuk spit gravel behind us as we jostled over unpaved roads. I’ve spent a lot of time in Phnom Penh but I’d never been out here in the far reaches of the city. To get there, we drove thirty minutes out of town, then down a long dirt road to a small community loosely congregated around a wat.

Behind the wat and attached school, we turned into a small labyrinth of unpaved roads, fingers of land jutting around a pond. Small houses, in varying states of construction, lined the roads. Children playing on mounds of gravel shrieked and waved at us, while grandmothers crouched in front of their houses just watched, bemused. I was with a staff member from one of our supporting foundations, my colleague Michael from San Francisco, and Socheat, DDD’s Phnom Penh Training Coordinator and our chaperone for the afternoon.

The tuk-tuk stopped and Socheat led us to the last home, where the road dead-ended. There was a scramble of activity in the neighboring homes as a family of six assembled to greet us.

Piseth*, a DDD operator, stepped forward and introduced himself in soft, serious English. He presented each member of his family—his mother, father, two younger sisters and younger brother. We smiled and clasped our hands together and nodded our heads. Piseth translated that his parents were honored we were there. His mother motioned for us to come in.

The family home was small, with one main, empty room. A chicken clucked in a corner, and a couple of dogs roamed freely. We could see right down the home’s only hallway, which seemed to spill into the pond behind it. The house was constructed of bricks in a raw red with fresh mortar pasting them together. An upper floor was half-built. There was no furniture or evidence of electricity, except for a large computer monitor, carefully wired up in the corner.

Mats were laid on the concrete floor for us to sit, while Piseth and his family crouched against the wall across from us. His mother shyly pushed a tray of bottled water toward us. I cringed, hoping this didn’t cost them too much but afraid to refuse the careful hospitality. With a language barrier between us and unsure of how to start, we all smiled at each other.

The point of our visit was just this—to absorb the place where we were and the people we were with. As management at DDD, we have all been drawn to our work by the promise of having an impact, but we often find ourselves far removed from it. These visits to DDD’s data operators’ homes jerked us back to the reality of our staff in Cambodia and Laos, reminding us of what life was like here—in this case, how hard it could be but how much better it could get.

Piseth spoke quietly, but looked us straight in the eyes. He didn’t smile, but wasn’t mad or sad—instead, it seemed he took himself very seriously because he had to. He explained that he is the main breadwinner for his family. His parents are street food vendors, and his younger sisters and brother are in school. Piseth wakes up before 5am to bike to work at DDD until lunchtime, and then helps his parents for the rest of the day so that his younger siblings can stay in school. (He insists on it.)

By night, he and his father slowly build their house. The family had been living in a squatters’ community in another corner of town, but were kicked out to make way for new development there. With their small compensatory stipend, Piseth and his family acquired the land and materials for the house. They finished building the structure, but are now out of money, so the rest—the bedrooms upstairs, the kitchen—has to wait until they could save more.

Between his work at DDD and helping his family, Piseth had to drop out of university even though he had a DDD scholarship to support his tuition. Socheat prodded him gently and Piseth answered wistfully that he hopes to go back once the house was finished.

After an hour of listening and asking questions, and then another few minutes of nodding thanks and goodbyes, we unfurled ourselves from the concrete floor, dodged the dogs and chicken, and stepped back out into the blaze of the midday sun. Piseth walked us down the road as we picked our way around construction refuse and back toward the tuk-tuk. We were quiet on the ride back, sweaty and humbled.

·                            ·                             ·

Now back in San Francisco, it’s still easy to lose myself in Powerpoints and grant proposals. On a daily basis, it’s much easier to talk about metrics than it is to remember that right now, across the globe, Piseth is coming home from his second job and facing a to-do list much less manageable. But every time I do, his resoluteness hits me with a thud. I can’t reach for a brick and I can’t feed the chickens and I can’t hawk another bamboo tube of rice to help. But I can, and I do, attack my inbox with renewed determination, make this proposal a little bit tighter, push a little bit further.

*Employee’s name changed to protect his privacy.

When DDD opened its office in Vientiane, Laos in 2003, Metta and Phab were two of the first ten data entry operators who hired in the office. Now, seven years later, DDD in Vientiane hires 40 new operators every six months. Metta is the Finance Coordinator for the office and Phab is our Senior Project Manager.

Today, when a new employee starts as a data entry operator in DDD’s Vientiane office, they first go through three months of training, learning IT, typing, English, and other necessary skills. When Metta and Phab started as operators they had just one month to meet the typing standard: 30 words per minute. On their first day, Metta typed 11 words a minute; Phab typed eight. “We had to practice, practice, practice – six hours a day, six days a week. Just typing.”

Phab had graduated from college with a degree in management, but it was impossible for her to find a job, because she had no experience. Then she saw in the newspaper that DDD was looking for people who knew some technology and English. The ad also said that DDD encouraged disabled people to apply. Phab misunderstood: “I thought I was going to work with disabled people, not technology. If I had known that, I probably wouldn’t have applied.”

Metta had studied English at the Vocational School for disabled people before she came to DDD. She was looking for a job but was turned away everywhere she applied, because she has a physical disability. “When I saw DDD’s ad in the newspaper and it advertised for disabled people I thought: finally I meet one of the requirements!” She met with the then General Manager in Vientiane, Mai Siriphongpanh (now DDD’s COO), who encouraged Metta to apply.

Metta and Phab excelled in their first few years as operators and joined the capacity building team to train new operators. “People used to call us a lot at night to ask questions and learn more. They are poor and disabled people, but still they really want to learn. It made me proud of them,” Phab says.

To Metta and Phab, DDD is different from other work places: At DDD, you are given opportunity to grow; even if you don’t have the right skills yet, you will be trained in preparation for more advanced positions. They both experienced that, as they ascended within the organization and eventually became managers. “We help people to grow–not just their skills, but we also educate their mind and their interpersonal skills,” says Metta.

When asked why they are still at DDD, they answer in total agreement: “We want to give the next generation the same opportunity that DDD gave us. That is the reason we are still here. We still work with happiness because of our people.”

It seems fitting that it was on the beginning of Vassa, yesterday, that Kaing Guek Eav, also known as Duch, was found guilty of war crimes. He was the head of the infamous Security Prison 21 in Phnom Penh, where an estimated 17,000 people were imprisoned from 1975 to 1979, very few of whom made it out of the prison alive.

I asked Sopheap, General Manager of our Battambang office in Cambodia, what she thinks the sentence means to Cambodia?

“I was glad when this conviction was announced. I was born three years after the Khmer Rouge ended. I still cannot imagine what life looked like in those three years, eight months, and 20 days.”

Still, Sopheap raises the question whether the Khmer Rouge trial was worth the expenses: “I know that millions of dollars have been spent on the court for years. I wonder how different Cambodia would look, if that money was spend in the right development areas, such as education, health care, etc. I think Cambodians think differently about this matter, maybe some of them feel it is the right decision to have this Khmer Rouge tribunal, but many think the people who are found guilty are more guilty than it is publicly published, and many people ask why we have to spend so much money to find him guilty and take so long — when the KR leadership was so obvious.”

In this way, the verdict over Duch was long awaited in Cambodia, and thousands watched live on TV as the sentence was announced. The end of the trial is also the end of an era – a chance for Cambodians to put the genocide behind them and move on, with renewed determination to build a strong and peaceful future for their country.

When I first walked through the doors of Digital Divide Data’s office in Vientiane I found myself in what looks like any other bustling IT business. Computers line the walls and the operations floor is full of young computer technicians working away on data entry projects and digitization of books and newspapers, while managers are meeting about estimates and quality evaluation. But I know that what sets DDD aside from the thousands of other IT outsourcing companies in Asia is the organization’s social mission.

DDD employs disadvantaged youth in Cambodia and Laos, providing them with education, training, and real on-the-job work experience, so that they, after four years, are able to hold better jobs and provide for themselves and their families. While DDD in Cambodia partners with a French NGO for the work of identifying and recruiting the students who are most in need as well as qualified, DDD in Laos handles the recruitment of new employees without help from third parties.

When a new student applies for employment with DDD they are enrolled in a careful selection process where one of the key steps is an unannounced visit to their family home. Thongkham Soumaloun, DDD’s Training Coordinator, and I are on our way to our first family visit of the day when the tire blows up. Thongkham tells me that for this round of recruitment he interviewed more than 60 young Laotians and he aims to hire just under 40. Today, we are visiting five families; the first one is the family of a 23 year-old girl named Noy.

Once the tire is repaired we continue for another 45 minutes before we end up in a small village. All the houses in the village are on stilts, mostly built from bamboo and wood. There are no road signs or house numbers, so the only way to find the right house is to ask around. Not long after we arrive in the village the girl’s mother shows up to greet us. She has already heard of our arrival.

We sit down at a table downstairs, shaded by a few trees and Thongkham pulls out the evaluation form. Do you own or rent your house? Rent. Do you own or rent your land? Rent. Average annual income? $700 USD. I go inside the house to take a few pictures for documentation. Key furniture? None.

We also ask if the girl has any siblings and if they are in school. It turns out that the student’s brother is already employed at DDD in Laos. This is a key piece of information since it is part of DDD’s selection criteria to only accept students from families where other immediate family members are not already employed by DDD. Because her brother is already employed by DDD she doesn’t qualify.

We finish the questionnaire and ask for directions to the next house. It is another long ride on dirt roads. We get on the motorbike and set off and I yell to Thongkham over the noise from the engine and wind: “It’s too bad, they could really use some help”, and he responds: “But her brother is already making a salary and sending money home to his family. There are other families who are not as lucky.” He is right, and we continue on to the next visit.

Correction: Chhavy’s father did not serve as an officer in the army under the Khmer Rouge. During that time he worked as a peasant, and after the fall of the Khmer Rouge he joined the Cambodian People’s Armed Forces (CPARF). The CPARF were the armed forces of the People’s Republic of Kampuchea, established primarily in response to the security threat that the CGKD forces, including the Khmer Rouge, presented.

***

Like most of our employees in Cambodia, Chhavy is a daughter of the post-genocide era in Phnom Penh. She graduated from DDD earlier this year and now works to improve the future of some of Cambodia’s least fortunate children, and she dreams about starting her own business.

Chhon Chhavy was born in 1981, two years after the Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia had fallen. She was the first of five children. Her parents lived in Kandal province and, like most other Cambodian families, they suffered under the Khmer Rouge, but they survived and avoided being split up or separated into different work camps.

After the Khmer Rouge years, Chhavy’s father joined the Cambodian People’s Armed Forces (CPARF). “When I was a child, I didn’t know about my father’s job. When you are a child, you don’t understand about those things. I would just always be happy to see him when he came back after being away for so long.” says Chhavy. As an adult, she has asked her father about life during the Khmer Rouge and the following decades. He says it was a difficult time and that he never wants General Pol Pot to come back. “No one in Cambodia wants that time to come back.”

Chhavy worked for DDD as a data-entry operator for five years and just recently graduated to a job outside DDD. She now works as a librarian at Hagar International, an NGO that rehabilitates female victims of trafficking in Cambodia, Vietnam, and Afghanistan. She notes that although her daily work is very different, DDD and Hagar International are similar organizations: They are both helping marginalized Cambodians to build better lives.

At Hagar, more than one hundred children use the library and attend the impromptu English and IT classes Chhavy teaches. She says her new job is gratifying because she can help point the children in the direction of a better future. “I didn’t know about this problem in Cambodia before I came to Hagar. Sometimes the parents sell their daughters because they are so poor. I want Cambodia to get rid of this problem.”

Chhavy also has entrepreneurial dreams: She wants to use her experience from DDD to make money so that she can start a small business with her brother.

Thanks in part to Chhavy’s financial support; all of her siblings have been able to study in university. Her brother has become a veterinarian. “In my province, everyone has animals everywhere that are not taken properly care of. When the animals die, the farmers sell the meat in the market and people get sick. I want to provide medicine for the animals, so that people don’t get sick.” explains Chhavy. Right now she is gaining work experience at Hagar and talking to people who have their own businesses so that she can learn from them, before she moves on to realize her dream for herself and her family.

“I think my parents are good parents. They made sure all their children got an education so that we can get good jobs. I want all the children in my country to be able to get an education. And I want peace in Cambodia.”

Addy: A police man or a soldier. It is not a popular job here, but there is still a lot of competition, because they are government jobs, which means a permanent position and stable income.
Thipkesone: I wanted to become a doctor, but I couldn’t pass the test to get into the university.

Where did you grow up, and what is your family like?

Thongsouk: I grew up in Viengkeo Village. My family is very poor and has a very difficult life. All my siblings only finished high school; they didn’t have a chance to study further. Now they work in the factories and restaurants, at very low paid jobs.
Odai: My family is poor. We tried to get a loan so I could study at the university, but we couldn’t. We also owe money to all our relatives.

What did your family say, when you told them you were going to work at DDD?

Odai: They were very happy and proud of me, because I will be able to finish school and take care of myself. I will generate income and support my family.

What is the best thing about working for DDD?

Thipkesone: It is very different than other places. Here you get a chance to get real experience, and the other half of the day you can go to school.
Addy: The best thing is that I can improve myself and have a better life. Now I have access to healthcare and other benefits in life.

What are your plans and dreams for the future?

Thongsouk: I study accounting at college and I want to become an accountant. Because DDD invested in my career I have job opportunities now.
Odai: I am going to IT school and I want to be an IT manager. I have built my experience and general knowledge at DDD.

What do you think your life would be like if you didn’t work at DDD?

Thongsouk: I think I would be weaving at home with my mother.
Addy: I would still be working at the gas station, where I worked before I joined DDD.
Thipkesone: I would be at home with my mother, selling dried food in front of our house.
Odai: Before I came here, I worked as a waiter. It was very low pay. I can’t imagine my life without DDD.

Social enterprises are considered part of the third sector, or the civic sector, placed between the public and private sector. However, in developing countries where the public sector is sometimes non-existent or very weak, other agents of change like social enterprises often provide most of the social infrastructure a country needs in order to advance – even if they don’t have the legislative support to do so.

The realization that social entrepreneurship might be the key to the advancement of the developing world has only emerged in the past decade or so. A key contribution to the social entrepreneurship movement is David Bornstein’s How to Change the World, a book that turned a spotlight onto social innovation and examples of how the model could effect profound change. Now, Bornstein has founded and launched a new website, www.dowser.org, which aims to showcase more stories of change happening around the world right now.

Partly, Bornstein’s motivation is that while social entrepreneurship does yield social change around the world, the change is generally hidden. Moreover, he and his well-written team focus on solutions rather than problems; through a number of case studies, they are exploring who is solving what and how.

DDD is excited to be profiled on Dowser.org via an interview with our CEO, Jeremy Hockenstein. We look forward to following the Dowser.org team as they showcase more examples of positive change, and hope that their efforts will help pave the road for better conditions for social enterprises, in all corners of the world.

In the beginning of this decade Kann Kunthy, the General Manager of Digital Divide Data’s Phnom Penh office, failed to graduate from High School and instead he was growing crops on his mother’s farm in Kampong Speu.

Ten years and many sleepless nights later he is in charge of more than 120 people, and he continues to play a significant role in DDD’s success in Cambodia. “I have received offers to make much more money, but I stay here because I believe in our social impact.” Kunthy says.

Read the full story in the Phnom Penh Post.

My aunt in Phnom Penh offered to let me live with her in exchange for doing some housekeeping and other tasks. I was lived with her for almost one month when my aunt’s neighbor told me about the Cambodian Women’s Crisis Center and their new partnership with Digital Divide Data to train at-risk young women. I knew very little English and nothing about computers, but I applied anyway and luckily enough for me, I was selected!

The six-month training started immediately, and afterwards, in June 2004 DDD offered me a job as a data entry operator. I worked as an operator part-time and went to school part-time, thanks to the scholarship that DDD provided. I focused on improving my English and professional skills and became very good with computers.

Within 2 years, I was promoted to Team Leader Assistant, where I trained to be a manager, and then promoted again to Team Leader, my first supervisory role of a 15 member team. In 2008, a position in the HR department became available and I applied to be HR Assistant. I worked as an HR assistant a year and a half; I really enjoyed working in the HR field and gained a lot of skills and confidence in that role. Because of my experience at DDD, I felt really confident that I could get an HR job outside DDD and I started applying for positions in summer 2009.

I have a new position now with Cambodian Children’s Fund as the Human Resource and Administrative Assistant. Even though I miss DDD family and appreciate all my experiences and good fortune there, I am very happy to be where I am now. I now earn double my last salary, which lets me send more money to my parents back home and now I am able to support my younger brother to attend university to study chemistry.

I thank DDD very much for this opportunity to reach my full potential. I appreciate the many benefits, experiences, skills, knowledge DDD provided. I have things I never even dreamed were possible. Lastly, I wish DDD much success and growth for the future so that more people can share in my experiences to know, work and grow in the DDD family. DDD changed my life and my family’s life.

With a billion thanks and love, Pisey

DDD Graduate
Phnom Penh, Cambodia