Behind the scenes

By the end of January 2025, we still didn’t have something you'd expect to take a few hours: an official NGO bank account.

Not for lack of effort, but because every step forward seemed to reveal something new we didn’t know.

Instead, we had confusion, contradictions, and a growing sense that nobody, not the lawyer, not the bank, actually knew how to get us there.

Every visit to the bank felt the same. New requirements. Different answers. Missing documents we’d never heard of before.

We weren’t following a process. We were guessing our way through one.

At one point, we were told we needed hard copies of the NGO structure, not scans, not photos, not certified copies. The original documents, stamped and recognized by the government.

Those documents weren’t even in the same city. They were in the capital, Phnom Penh, with the lawyer.

Then came the next problem.

We couldn’t open the account ourselves.

As non-board members, we weren’t authorized. The bank required four out of five board members to be physically present to open the account. Two of them don’t live in Cambodia.

We tried to work our way around it, tried other banks, asked for alternatives, and looked for exceptions. Nothing worked. We were stuck, waiting for Gordon to arrive in Cambodia just to sign papers.

In between, life carried on.

One afternoon, Kiki casually ate fruit from a roadside stall... only to realize worms were crawling through it. We both took worm tablets that same day, as a precaution.

Later, we visited Sala Baï Hotel School in Siem Reap, where many of our graduates continue their education. Most of the event was in Khmer, but we connected with teachers, staff, and partners, including ADF, who also work on Kulen Mountain.

That Saturday, we returned to ABA Bank. Again. It feels like we live here now. We asked some more questions and were looking for options to open the account without Gordon being in Cambodia.

We received yet another explanation from a clerk who took the time to walk us through the situation again. And for the first time, things became clear.

The difficulty wasn’t the bureaucracy. It was the legal setup.

There were mistakes in the legal structure. Issues we had flagged earlier, but were now surfacing in full.

We couldn’t confront the lawyer directly (again), but we updated Gordon and started looking for ways to fix it ourselves.

We left the bank two hours later, without a solution, but with some clarity. That felt like progress.

For the first time in days, we stepped away from it all.

Lunch at The Muffin Man. We ran into Grant and his mother, Jenny. Gossiped about neighbors, nothing serious, just a small moment cutting through the stress.

After lunch, a movie, Mufasa. Followed by a massage at Secret Eden.

It felt almost strange to relax.

That evening, Gordon gave us the green light: try to fix the bylaws and NGO structure ourselves. No lawyers. Just us.

Sunday was supposed to be a reset.

We cycled through the rice fields in the morning. Quiet. Open space. For a moment, it felt like we had distance from the chaos.

Then the phone rang.

The bank.

New update: we could open the account with three board members instead of four.

Progress… but not enough.

We still needed the original stamped documents, sitting in Phnom Penh.

Back to square one.

The rest of the day slipped back into work.

Coordinating with board members. Gathering documents. Following up with the lawyer.

Another weekend, largely gone.

That evening, just when it felt like we’d reached our limit, one more thing hit.

Fraud.

Nearly $2,000 had been taken from Kiki’s account.

We reported it immediately, and Revolut refunded the amount. But it was a difficult end to an already demanding few days.

This is the part people don't see.

Not the programs, outcomes, or the success stories, but the processes behind them.

The friction. The systems that don’t work. The delays no one prepares you for. The small, relentless obstacles that slow everything down.

Building something meaningful isn’t just about vision.

It’s about enduring the parts that make no sense, and pushing through anyway.