Cambodia - Part 13

Tuesday 17th July 2007

Stir fried

So my last entry was a bit of a diatribe. Apologies – I may have misrepresented myself a little. I was just bored more than anything. I am ok. I am not going crazy. But I do miss home a little…

In the last few weeks the wet season has well and truly set in. It rains heavily most days and everything gets wet. The dirt roads to many of the villages become muddy bogs and are impassable. It is also school holidays at the moment. It is timed to coincide with the wet season. My Khmer teacher has been busy overseeing examinations and getting papers graded for the end of school year exams. As a result my Khmer has taken a bit of a back burner, but that is cool.

Lots of kids are out playing and wondering around. I have seen a few looking very Huckleberry Finn with their straw hats, bicycles and fishing rods down by the river. The kids aren’t put off by the rain; they just go out and play in it. It is still hot and muggy even when it rains. Apparently, when it floods you can catch fish swimming along the roads. Maybe I should have bought a boat instead of a moto…

Two weekends ago was a quite weekend for me. Shin went to Phnom Penh, but I had some work to do, so I stayed in Kampong Thom with the house to myself. On Saturday morning I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep. I decided I needed to do something and jumped on my moto in the direction of Phnom Santuk; a little ‘mountain’ about half an hours ride from Kampong Thom. The Khmers call this a mountain, but I am not so sure it really qualifies. It isn’t that tall. It is 810 uneven steps to be precise. Although, it does stand out in contrast to the flat plains around it – you can see it from miles away. On my way there I was thinking it would be so nice to do some exercise climbing the mountain and then relax peacefully with my thoughts, soaking up the view. But this is Cambodia, I should have realised - you are never alone. As soon as I got to the base of the mountain I was flooded with wannabe guides. One jumped on the back of my moto and pointed out the road that leads up the mountain. So off we went.

Climbing the mountain on a moto was actually quite scary. With two of us on the bike I had to keep slipping it into first to get up the step bits. I really gave the bike a thrashing. But it was nowhere near as scary as coming down the mountain. I let the guide drive down and just hung on for my life. Most of the way we didn’t even have to turn the bike on, we just rolled with the brakes on. Who needs roller coasters?

Up on top of the mountain was a pagoda, a series of Buddha’s carved into the rocks, a footprint from Buddha himself and a magnificent view – long flat stretches of green rice paddies dotted with wooden houses and clumps coconut trees as far as the eye could see.

After we got back down, I decided I still needed to do some exercise and that I should climb the stairs anyhow. I really am out of shape. I may have lost weight here, but I have also lost any semblance of fitness I had as well. I probably wouldn’t have felt so bad if my guide hadn’t looked so fresh and taken the liberty of fanning me down as we climbed…I was streaming with sweat by the time I reached the top and felt like I was going to have a heart attack. How far away is the nearest hospital?

On the way back from Santuk I decided to pull in and have a look at the stone cavers and a drum maker who maker who sell their goods along the main road. I found a little stone elephant which I bought for the house, but its ear fell off on the ride home.

Aside from that, that weekend was fairly dull and I was bored out of my mind by Sunday evening. Sometimes, it gets tedious speaking in broken English/Khmer and having to travel so far to do anything. The other day I was day dreaming about ordering in a pizza and chilling out on the couch watching a DVD. For some reason our TV channels have changed and we no longer get some of the English speaking channels (including my favourite – the Australia network). So my TV options are even more limited than before. Our only source of English speaking news is CNN which bites – talk about sensationalistic…and now we get the fashion channel (seriously – what is the point?).

Last weekend I went to Phnom Penh for a welcome dinner for the new batch of volunteers arriving from Australia on Friday night. There are 15 new volunteers and only one is male. We were joking that it would be really funny if he was gay. He wasn’t and the poor guy was clearly hanging for some male company after being stuck with the girls all week. Nearly everyone from my intake was there and it was nice catching up with them all.

So we took the new kids out on the town. I was hanging to dance off my stir craziness and we hit a few pubs around the town. The last one we went to was little place with a mix of Khmer and foreigners overlooking the river. We carved up on the dance floor into the wee hours, partly thanks to ‘the Mexican’ (A Khmer guy wearing a sombrero and poncho) who kept us well lubricated with tequila shots. One can’t help but wonder about ‘the Mexican’ – how serious does he take being ‘the Mexican’? Does he wear those clothes all the time? Does he have ‘la cucaracha’ as the horn on his moto? Do his kids have to call him ‘papa’? Does he have little cactuses out front of his house? So many questions…

The next day Lainie and I were feeling shady, but pulled it together enough to meet our friends Tim and Ags at the Hotel Continental for yum cha. The food was awesome. We ate so much I couldn’t move after. I think I am going to have to go to China and just eat for a few days. Kicks ass on Khmer cuisine.

After lunch Lainie and I did some shopping before heading down to the river front and took a sunset cruise along the Mekong/Tonle Sap rivers (Phnom Penh is built around where these two major rivers meet). We got a little boat to ourselves and just chilled with a couple of beers. It was so nice just to relax and take in the city from the water. There is a haze that descends over the city which gives it a romantic feel (alas it is probably just pollution and dust).

That night we had a quiet night. Just a little dinner and a few drinks. We were staying at a little guesthouse near the river front called the ‘Bogie and Becall’. It was a nice, clean and friendly little place. But Lainie noted that there were no other female guests staying there. When I noticed an ad for the place highlighting that they had ‘beautiful girls’ we started to get a little suspicious. Our suspicions were confirmed on Saturday night when we walked into the bar down stairs and it was full of older foreign men and young Khmer girls. You just can’t pick them sometimes. It turns out we were staying in an area where that sort of thing went on. I am not saying it was a brothel, but it was definitely not just a guesthouse either. Oh well, they did a good fry up breakfast…

So Pyjamas. People here love them here. Ladies wear them everywhere and kids wear the shorts around. I guess they are comfortable and light. They are often bright red, orange or yellow with little cartoon pictures dotted all over them. It is quite cute and funny at the same time. It’s like they are always ready for a nap. Sometimes when I am talking to store holders in the market I just want to say ‘Hey. Nice PJs’.

Work has been a bit like the weather lately. Sometimes there is stacks to do, sometimes there is nothing. I have decided to set myself a little project to improve the management of the organisation and develop a strategic plan. That should keep me occupied in the low times.

On a side note – my boss sold his fake Lexus. He didn’t tell me why.

Sorry I haven’t posted any pictures of late, but I haven’t taken any. I decided to make a claim for my camera and my glasses. But making an insurance claim in the middle of Cambodia isn’t quite straight forward. Anyways, I hope to get another one soon.

I hope everyone is well. I miss you all.
by-e.