Slices of Cambodia

It's the end of April, and we'll be leaving Asia soon, so I figure it's a good idea to start writing about our early adventures and experiences and observations. Our first stop was in Cambodia, a diverse place with nice beaches and islands, the mega ruins of the fallen Angkor civilization, a long winding stretch of the Mekong River with jumping Irrawaddy dolphins, and, sadly,a tragic period of social upheaval and genocide.

1) In less than hour
We arrived in Phnom Penh in the late morning. After a very long New Year's Day that lasted more than 30 hours, we were famished. We took a tuk-tuk straight to the hostel. I have no idea about any of the meals I've eaten since then, but I am sure that for that brunch, I had a coriander pumpkin soup. It cost $2.50. And in within an hour of arrival, my meal surpassed anything that we ingested in South America. No disrespect to the good cooks (90% of the great dishes came from about five people) in South America and lots of culinary disrespect for everyone else, this soup was on another level.

2) Crossing Traffic
Phnom Penh seems like a big city at first glance for those unaccustomed to Asian mega-cities. In retrospect, the city's rather tame. But it was our first time in Southeast Asia, and the six lanes of cars and motos and bicycles whizzing around the roundabouts and down the streets were downright scary. After ten minutes waiting at the curb for an opening, we saw another more-experienced traveler reach the same curb as us. We waited ten seconds then waded out into the sea of traffic. Like a goddamn Moses, that sea went around him. He walked in a straight line, never altering his pace. So like the Jews, we followed Moses across the sea. Motos, cars, and bikes Bernoulli'ed around us, creating a small envelope, until we reached the opposite curb of safety. Then Moses turned left and left us.

3) Ewwwww ! How beautiful !
During the Khmer Rouge regime, more than 95% of the population were farmers. Today, that percentage is much smaller but still a majority. In many cultures, beauty is often defined as an opposing physical response to the masses : In the West, chubby was beautiful at a time when people were hungry; Today it's the opposite. In Cambodia, the "beautiful" people set themselves apart from the lowly farmers by bleaching their skin and, bizarrely, by growing some of their fingernails to appalling lengths. We were glad to learn that handshaking is not part of the culture, a short bow helps you to keep your distance from all of those Khmer Edward Scissorhands. Taking odd to new heights, these same beauties will allow, nay !, encourage their mole hairs to extend several inches from the point of origin (usually the face) as a sort of wispy, off-center, three-haired beard. Sexy.

4) Cure for Myopia
In our month in Cambodia, we saw no more than three people were eyeglasses, far fewer than anywhere else that I've visited in the world. Within a week or so of our trip, we made that eyewearlessness realization and immediately, we made another realization : almost every eyeglass-wearer was murdered during the Khmer Rouge's regime in the late 70's because glasses were a symbol of education and learning. Sometimes the cure is worse than the disease.


5) iMonk

Sa Rith

The town of Battambang is known for two things : French buildings (shutters everywhere) and the bamboo train (literally a bamboo raft, big enough for five people, laying on two train axles with a small motor). But one of the more memorable events was at a monastery, where we met Sa Rith, a Buddhist monk. One of the first questions he asked was, "Are you a student or a teacher ?" For me, it was seemingly easy to answer, but I detected a trick. I imagined that all monks carried a few thought-provoking questions written on index cards somewhere in a secret pocket in their robes, such as "What is the sound of one-hand clapping ?" and "Which is better : real heaven or pie heaven ?"

Sa Rith asked to take a photo with us, and we were astonished when he grabbed an iPad from his room. But it just didn't jibe with my vague notions of monkhood. Shaved head, dressed in robes, barefoot or sandaled, eat only food given freely, play Angry Birds....hmmm. We had learned earlier that monks (always male) can never touch a woman. Because they have cooties, of course. But they can Cut the Rope, no problem.

Tuk-tuk ride between Kampot and Kep

6) Pepperland
We spent one of our last, and certainly most absurd, evenings in Cambodia in Kep, a seaside town spread around a small peninsula. The region, near Vietnam, is famous for its peppercorns, red, green, black, and white. So it was while watching the sun set, that we were invited by five drunk men with an air of authority to come join them. Four of the five spoke no English. The fifth translated as best he could the commands of the others, "drink this Black panther beer" as one of the others poured glasses for us, "he's a general" pointing at the biggest drunk, and he mumbled something about them being "bodyguards of the prime minister".

The crab of Kep

The general gave us his take on the state of the world using his best Khmerglish while his companions each took turns to pee in the sea. "Russia !" he exclaimed. "No ! Syria ! No !" The general and wordsmith was sitting cross-legged and kept his hand flat in the air at the level of his knee. Then he raised his voice even further, "Cambodia ! Sabai, sabai !" as he raised his hand above his head. for the next 30 minutes we learned that China, Afghanistan, and Ukraine each deserved a resounding, "no !" But each time, Cambodia was "sabai, sabai !" with a hand high in the air.

Then the general wanted some photos with us. The general, political scientist, bodyguard to the prime minister, and drunk then wanted to get even closer with us : he started sniffing my hand and cupping Justin's butt during the photo shoot. Like Borat, though, he wouldn't touch the girls. Time to leave Pepperland.