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Here I sit in a beach bungalow on the picture perfect island of Koh Samet. 20 yards from the sea, but a million miles from civilisation as we know it. The biggest snag being, (a team of hungry mosquitos stalking me every time go the bathroom aside ) the lack of an internet connection. But more about Koh Samet later. This is day 9 of the arthritic Buddhas travels around Thailand and Cambodia, so lets go back to the beggining.
Getting to Thailand felt like a journey to the moon. Almost 20 hours of eating , flying, and waiting with a 7 hour time difference on top. Picture 1 shows me wondering what the hells going on at Doha airport lounge I think. Unless im possibly saying to myself "theres no place like home" like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.
The lounge in the photo (2) is the pay-as-you-wait section of Doha airport reserved for those who fly with Quatar airlines and have a lengthy wait between connections. For 25 quid, you got a rather posh quiet uncluttered lounge with free buffet type food, a few beers and its own smoking room. Needless to say, we soon brought the standard of the place down.
Having endured the 8 hour wait, and the 6 1/2 hour connecting flight to Bangkok on top of the 8 hour flight from Manchester to Doha, you might think we'd be rather sleepy on the 1 1/2 hour taxi ride from Bangkok to Pattaya, but of course our friendly maniac behind the wheel kept us on the edge of our seats. I was just clinging on, cringing at this idiots complete lack of any sense of road safety , and praying even harder that we got to our hotel in one piece. Fortunately we did. I hope youll forgive me for not having a photo, but Im sure if you look on Thailands most wanted list of people impersonating a taxi driver youd surely find him
I suppose it was fitting that the taxi ride we took should introduce us to Pattaya, cos the place is absolutely full on. Basically its a 20 square mile cathouse, which might easily have killed me 25 years ago in my prime, let alone at my rapidly maturing age. The next
photo (3) rather sums the whole place up in a single frame. Dancing girls, gratuitous
molestation of your privates whether you like it or not, and some pretty gorgeous girls to boot. I never got pissed once though, cos you needed your wits about you with all this gooly fondling going on. I say that because I would estimate that a good 3 out of 10 Bar girls might give you a nasty shock should things get intimate later in your hotel room
as the dress is removed to reveal something that just doesnt seem quite right on a Lady
I dont care how gorgeous someone looks under bar lights, if they were as tall as you with large hands, boobs over 34b and anything even approaching a Tina Turner voice,then it was time look the otherway - or run.
Our hotel was fine for the money. Nothing like it was advertised, but it was clean, had a fridge, TV etc, a power shower, and a bed so enormous that you could feel extremely lonely in there on your own. Now I know thats a lousy excuse, but its the
best I can do, and Im sticking to it.(4)
The food on the streets was great and cheap. (5)The heat was kinda tough sometimes , but the view on the seafront ( about 100yards from the hotel) was gorgeous as you can see from the following 2 pics in my album (5/6)
It was also great to see an old poker friend called Alan again (7)Hi Alan if youre reading) After a pint and a sunday roast at The Bull and Butcher pub in downtown Pattaya ( im not kidding), we took a brief stroll down the street where flesh of a different kind was there on a plate at one of the more erotic go-go clubs. I dont think I'll ever think of much else when I hear "White flag" by dido in future.
After 5 nights in Pattaya however, The Arthritic Buddha was more than ready to move on. I was still jetlagged, Id been almost eaten alive in bed by female mosquitos and more pleasant female creatures, and Id spent a damn fortune. Unfortuneately my travel
companion had developed a severe case of club-foot ( swollen ankles due to ill fitting sandals) so we stayed an extra two nights. Id already promised myself Id slow down though,and I duly kept my word. It was time for a move.
The following day, not being the earliest risers, we missed the scheduled coaches to Ban Phe, which is the nearest port from which all boats sail to Koh Samet. Time for another long taxi ride. Our driver on this occasion was much saner, despite having
some kind of nervous tick, and a car badly in need of wheel tracking. A scramble around online the previous day had failed to reveal any kind of info regarding either reasonably priced accomodation or ferry times, so of course by the time we reached the port we'd missed the last ferry. This left us an overnight stay in Ban Phe, about which there isnt much to say other than the place reminded me of the type of one street town
you might see in a Clint Eastwood movie - A couple of bars and hotels, A sheriffs office (police station), a bordello and a few stores. About the only difference was that instead of horses drifing up and down the street it was motor cyles. This meant you didnt have a blacksmiths, but in its place was a garage.
The following morning we quickly formulated a plan to take a ferry to the middle of the island as opposed to the more touristy north- which meant once again wed missed the early ferry. (It should be said that Im being rather fast and loose with the term "ferry" - Some of these boats would make the African Queen look like the QE2). Having had already checked out of the hotel, this left us a three hour wait in soaring heat for the next sailing. Queue instant deep suntan. As we anxiously awaited the arrival of our "ferry", we were hugely relieved to find it was a vessel that was almost seaworthy. You wouldnt have jumped in some of the boats on display at the harbour in your local swimming baths, let alone a one hour journey accross open water. Luckily our vessel was fairly large, the day was calm and the crossing pleasant. If the relief on my face isnt palpable in the next picture, then its not telling a true story. (8)
Upon docking or should I say paddling ashore, We then took a taxi ( open backed pickup truck) a couple of miles further south, and set up shack ( quite literally ) in our twin "bungalows"by the ocean. The room is extremely basic, with what can only be described as a wet room type bathroom without the Western glamour, or hot water,and which also housed the toilet and sink ! All that aside however it was worth it for the view alone ;(Photo 9)
Regrettably, Koh Samet like all other Islands aint what it used to be according to my travel companion. The Islands off the coast of Thailand were originally frequented much more exclusively by travellers. Apparently a similar Thai Island, FanDhang, is where the film "The Beach" was shot, and is loosely based upon the backpacking culture that used to visit it.) Alas the ravages of capitalism will leave no such gems unturned these days, and the islands are quickly becoming expensive and package tour infested, with modern appartment complexes, hotels, and proper bungalows replacing the beach hut type accomodation. This is the price of progressI suppose, if progress be the appropriate word(as westerners might describe it).Looking at some of the crap in the Ocean on
the crossing does make you wonder if we truly appreciate the price tag for Mother Earth that progress carries. But enough of the political stuff, and besides, I still cant get bloody Wifi for my laptop ! Photos of Koh samet follow
So that brings y'all right up to the present, as I sit here typing this report on my notepad with only a couple of Gecko lizards in my room for company, ready for a copy and paste job as soon as we get to Phnom Penh. Because Ive brought yall up to date, anything I write from now on will be in diary form, despite you not being able to read it just yet.
Saturday November 14th
I went down to an internet cafe this morning, and apparently almost all the hotels within my relatively meagre budget in Phnom Penh come with a very speedy wifi service
if the reviews are anything to go by. All that said, as I am learning very quickly - in this part of the world seeing something first hand is actually believing.So if you can read this and its Wednesday, then something actually turned out as promised. England play Brazil tonight. Unfortuneately Thailand play Indonesia, or some other such team so watching that games out the window. Did manage to watch the clarets get robbed at city last weekend though, and will be supporting the beloved lads every week from hereon in - despite the late start here ( 10 pm)
It absolutely threw it down today - made the rain in Spain look relatively steady.( 13/14 )
Hope the piccies do it justice. Were leaving in the morning, heading back to Ban phe to try and get some transport down to the border. No doubt we'll just have missed the last ride down there. Nonetheless, Cambodia here we come !
Sunday 15th November - TAXI!!
Since today has been spent mostly driving what seems to have been half way accross Asia in two Taxis, its perhaps a good opportunity to explain the enigma that is a taxi ride out here.
Firstly the good news. We have covered at least 500 miles in a total of 4 taxi rides, and the total cost between 2 of us has been about 130 quid ( 65 quid each). There is no more good news.
Now the bad news. These drivers are, on the whole completely insane. As the price might suggest when your covering the kind of distance we have, that doesnt leave too much money for the driver. This means that these guys are often driving a minimum of 12 hours a day. Their stimulant of choice is a super turbo charged red bull type drink called Lipovitarin, without which they would simply collapse to sleep from exhaustion at the wheel. I got to the stage where looking at the driver to see his eyelids flutttering on the verge of sleep was getting me decidedly edgy, although even that sight was infinitely preferable to watching the goingson on the road in front of us. If that isnt bad enough, then I would estimate that 3 of the vehicles we travelled in ( 2 at the very least ) would fail a standard UK MOT with flying colours. All of the above worries applied to the first 3 rides, but it was the final ride across Cambodia from Koh Kong to Phnom Penh that made our previous experiences seem like a stroll in the Park. Before I describe the said ride however, a little historical context.
Anyone who knows anything about the history of Cambodia will surely be aware of the notorious rule of Pol Pot, and the killing fields. If you ever see an elderly person in Cambodia, then its a safe bet that they have either seen or equally as likely participated in some serious atrocities - it would often have been a case of participate or die yourself. Now back to that 4th ride.
Having crossed the border, which involves the usual array of payments, essentially amounting to little more than a litany of bribes, one of the services offered by our friendly border "assistant" was the offer of a Taxi directly to Phnom Penh ( about a 4 hour drive across remotest Cambodia). Having negotiated the price down to what was acceptable we were now left with 2 choices. The first option was to stay overnight in Koh Kong, a border town, which even by the admission of my seasoned travel companion and his friend made them "edgy" ( apparently you can buy hand guns, AK 47s etc from about 5 quid). The following morning we would then take a coach to Phnom Penh.
The second choice was to take the taxi. We had been told that 2 other Cambodians would be accompanying us on the journey, although they would both sit in the front allowing us the opportunity to relax more in the back ( right !).
Caught in what clearly looked like a choice between a rock and hard place, I suggested going for the Taxi, cos at least the guy touting us looked like a youngster, and seemed friendly enough. Not only that, the lure of an all-in-one-day hit from Ban Phe in Thailand to the capital of Cambodia, where relative civilisation would be guaranteed in just about 4 hours seemed particularly alluring.
He opened the boot and we threw our stuff in and just as we got in the back seat, appearing from nowhere it seems was an elderly man and two other guys, one of whom was also mid fifties. "This is your driver " the young man said, introducing us to someone who to look at might easily have been Pol Pots lead executioner . He sparked the car up and off we went.
So heres the scene. Im sat in the back of a taxi with by now what seemed a very white faced Les, who has been there/ done most everything. In the front are 3 total strangers, at least 2 of whom have probably witnessed/ been party to more torture, murder and dissapearance of humans than the Corleone family. Les had often mentioned the "safety in numbers" feature of travelling by coach, and as we trundled down the only road in this part of the world, my mouth drying faster than any other known fast drying thing, I began to fully appreciate what he meant.
It is virtually impossible to quantify the number of murdered and dissapeared in the Pol Pot era, and so for the first 2 hours of this ride as we journeyed through deeply forested country where both civilisation and other vehicles were barer than a badgers nadger, both myself and my buddy contemplated the distinct possibility that we might become 2 such statics, albeit in a later era. Gradually however this fear dissipated. We both figured it would have been pointless driving for so long if that was to be our fate ( why waste the juice?). Unfortuneately the terror for me at least was only half over as we began to encounter more and more traffic on the approach to Phnom Penh, and Pol Pots lead executioner now morphed into someone who was easily the most wreckless individual ever to be let loose behind the wheel of a car. Amongst his more spectacular manoevers was one particularly audacious piece of overtaking over the brow of hill on a right hand bend ( they drive on the right hand side of the road here - normally - I think ). The last hour or so was probably the most interesting, as this guy attempted to pass long streams of cars scooters and HGV with only a well exercised horn, and a suicidal nerve for protection.
At this point, I can say two things with absolute honesty. Firstly I have NEVER been as pleased to get out of a vehicle at our destination in my entire life. Secondly, there isnt an Ice cubes hope in hell that ill be doing anything other than flying back to Bangkok from Phnom Penh on my return journet to England. About the only other thing that will stick in my mind from the last taxi experience, is that on the odd occasion where I was trying to calm my nerves by taking my eyes off the road, I seem to recall that the countryside was clearly amidst the most naturally beautiful I have ever seen. Regrettably, as no doubt most of you will be aware it is difficult to savour or remember the good moments of any nightmare.
So after a little hunting for the hotel we had eyed up, we finally located the accompanying "Pickled Parrot" bar. After such a savoury experience in the taxis, another reasonable certainty was that the pickled parrot was about to be joined by the Pickled Mouse.
20th November - My Spiritual Home
OK, so Ive been in Phnom Penh for 5 days now, and have truly found for the time being at least my spiritual home. The Tonlesap hotel, with its accompanying bar sits on a side street just off the waterfront, and amidst probably the busiest district of the city in terms of where the nightlife is. This place will now be my home until the 22nd of December. For 15 bucks a night, Ive got a very reasonable room with free internet access and equally as importantly a 24 hour bar . The bar staff consist of 5 fabulous khmair ladies - surely amongst the most friendly and humble people in the whole world. The owner is an easy going Australian guy called Graham. The food is cheap and very good, the bar has both satellite and cable television with access to all sports channels and events ( up the Clarets ! )
Having endured the taxi ride from hell on last sunday, its basically been a case of much needed R+R for the last few days, other than a brief recconnaisance for some longer term accomodation. On Tuesday, being the kind sorta loving guy I am, I took my pool partner out for a meal to the FCC ( see first photograph of said beauty in my "cambodia" photo album). As I discover more about the people here, I will be posting my findings, but one thing I can say, is anyone with an ounce of compassion surely wouldnt begrudge treating any of the people in the bar to a night out on their one day a month day off - especially given that their salary for their labour comes to a grand total of $100 if theyre very lucky.
FCC is short for Foreign Correspondents Club, and is a typically resplendent colonial style building on the waterfront, where apparently all the journalists used to gather for tea and other niceties whilst reporting on the horrors of the Western induced savagry that was the "War" here. That should actually read massacre. Why anyone would ever wish to inflict such suffering on such a wonderful people truly beggars belief. Then again, anyone who knows anything of the true workings of this world and its ruling cretins will surely know that it is run by madmen.
I had originally planned returning to England on December 22nd, but am very quickly coming to the conclusion that to do so might well be folly, since Ive decided to return here shortly after anyways. Five days has been sufficient to convince me that this land and its people are right up my street. This means that I am postponing my planned trip to Angkor Watt until January, when I will be treating myself on my birthday.
Nothing much else to report thus far really, but stay tuned. There will be more.
24th November - East Asian Weightwatchers
Im seriously considering opening The south East Asia weighwatchers club. The rules for my club would be fairly simple, and I will 100% guarantee results. You can eat what you like, drink what you like - The only major stipulation is a one hour walk in the heat of the day out here. Hell this diet is so successful, that for the first time in I dont know how long, when I go to the toilet I can actually look down and see my special place and not a bloated stomach with accompanying love handrails ( handrails not handles, cos they went all the way round). At this rate, Im gonna have to run around in the shower soon to get wet. Yesterdays daily walk was with my companions Lady friend to a massage parlour. Now before you smutlovers get too excited it wasnt that kind of massage. This was a parlour owned and run by blind people, who's senses subsequently become accutely attuned in alternative areas in the absence of sight - in this case its the workings of the human muscles. Despite my friends insistence that this wasnt particularly good, I found the whole experience extremely relaxing - so much so that I almost fell asleep a few times. Perhaps thats because despite my years, I dont seem to have to many muscle problems in the lumber region, even after all the years of hard graft ( cough). The finale of the session was what I can only describe as a very gentle pounding of the whole back area with fists that somehow became human bongo sticks, and whos action/motion managed to send an amazing reverberation around every muscle they hit. If Tao ( Les's lady friend) says there are better places than that, then since shes a resident of the city I cant wait until I get the chance to vist a better such place. And finally for today, speaking of Lady friends, on Thursday last I took the opportunity to sneak out with Les for a couple of sherberts around the local streets. For the first time on my trip I end up drunk of course. At the last bar we visit we are approached by the usual clutch of attractions, one of whom seems to have taken a fancy to yours truly. It was only after about 20 minutes of intense scrutiny through intoxicated squinty eyes that I asked this lady to put her hand up next to mine, at which point it became obvious that I was in conversation with what the owner of the hotel describes as a very handsome lady. What can I say ? Ive let my guard down for the first time, and managed to attract one of apparently only 2 handsome ladies in the entire working girl community. Oh well. Stay tuned, there will be more.
27th November - The Joker !
Tonight, things are about to hit fever pitch at the Walkabout bar downtown. Its Joker night, and its getting pretty damned exiting. The Joker is basically a draw, where tickets are sold for one dollar each. buy 3 tickets and you also get a beer. Each ticket sold is then entered into the weeks draw. On week one the owner of the winning ticket has the choice of 53 downturned cards. Turn over the ace of hearts and you win a scooter. Turn over the joker and you win a cash prize which probably starts at around 1000 dollars. Should neither card be revealed, the following week, the same draw takes place, but obviously the jackpot increases.
We are now in week 47, which leaves 6 cards, and as yet neither prize has been won. Last week, myself and Les went down, and the whole place was almost insane come drawtime. Packed to the rafter with everyone hoping to have a pop at a jackpot which now stands at 12,500 dollars. I will be down with my camera later on , and photos will be posted along with a brief report.
On Wednesday, I took a short trip with my pool partner and her escort ( its rather like Good Morning Vietnam here dating this lady) to the National Museum - A beautiful building in the centre of the city, full of statues, and artifacts from the countries rich history. I would have taken more photographs, but unfortuneately that is not allowed inside the museum, so the one statue I did manage to photograph is technically an illegal one. The Grounds themselves and the sublimely serene nature of the place made the 3 dollar entry fee for Berang ( westerners ) a steal, (the locals have to pay about 15 pence,) so it was also a relatively cheap date - even with lunch for 3 on top.
A report on "Joker night" will follow, assuming we dont win, and are fleeing the country for a while to escape the wrath of the locals !
28th November - J is for......Jack
12,500 dollars is 50,000,000 Riels ( cambodian currency). With an average wage of maybe $80 bucks a month in the city, and 25 in the rural areas thats some serious wonga round these parts, and the winning ticket in the draw now has a 14% chance of scooping, or the same chance of winning what now looks like a booby prize - a scooter. Myself and Les have thrown 50 bucks at it, for which we recieve 52 tickets ( courtesy of some currency manipulation - buying tickets in Riels as opposed to dollars). That amount however it appears is small fry. Some guy has bought 400....and looking at the sheer volume of tickets in the barrel, it would appear that at least half of Phnom Penh have tickets in the drum. ( see attatched picture of drum). The second picture is the scene outside the bar just prior to the draw. The first time I walked in this place, I reckon that apart from myself, Les there werent 6 people in the place if you exclude the barstaff and working girls - there's always plenty of those in the walkabout.
Anyone who wins tonight will have the money paid directly into their bank account. As you might imagine, walking out of a bar with 12.5 k round these parts would not be the wisest choice in the world
The number is drawn and displayed amongst the throng of hopefuls, and amidst the cacophoney of a million groans, an exited scream as someone realises that their number has come up. The owner of the winning ticket now approaches the joker case which is unlocked to a host of jeering from those denied the opportunity to win some life changing cash. From where im stood I cant see nothing of the card chosen but the tone of screaming soon tells me the story. The winning ticketholder has turned over a Jack ( diamonds I think) - I should imagine anyone squeezing the card as you might in a game of poker for instance, must have had heart failure as the J would be the first thing you would see. It seems that half of Phnom Penh let out yells of unashamed joy as J is for Jack.
We'll be there again next week, when I will get a close-up of the case which the cards sit in. I got a photograph tonight but unfortuneately its not very good.
So today is Saturday. Up the clarets !
3rd December 2009 - Monkey business.
For the past couple of days now, Ive found a perfect location to try and make a few quid, whilst catching the glorious sunshine at the same time. For one hour a day I go and sit on the hotel roof where I can still get a wifi connection with the hotel. If youve seen the photo album for Cambodia, you will have seen two views of the river from the said venue.
The other day as I stood outside the hotel on the streets below catching the sun whilst having a quick natter with some of the local tuk tuk and scooter taxi drivers, I was rather shocked to have some kind of fruit shell land a couple of feet away from me. I looked up to find that the said projectile had apparently been thrown at me by one of 3 monkeys who were playfully wandering around on the balcony just above me.
The view of the local primate community from the roof today however was much more revealing. Theres any number of these lads and lasses wandering around the roofs here. Apparently many of the cities primate population is taken care of by the local Buddhist monks, believing as they do that all life is sacred. I also discovered today that despite being one of the taller buildings round these parts these chaps occasionally make it up to our roof. This means that I will most definitely need to be on my guard in future , since apparently a bite from an aggressive or frightened monkey isnt the ideal holiday experience.
Today I tried to get a few photos of the said population, but Since my camera isnt the greatest in the world i failed rather miserably. I will try and get some acceptable picture in due course . Meanwhile , ive posted another link for a close up of one of the local monkey population ;
http://www.flickr.com/photos/9829009@N03/4049792072/
So christmas is approaching fast. As I sit in thirty degree heat, you certainly wouldnt think so - except that last night I go out on the street to see a brightly decorated Christmas tree proudly displayed outside the bar next door. Is nothing sacred ? !!
6th December 2009 - Khmair Food
Since this week has been largely been spent earning a few quid, and anxiously hoping that Denghi fever doesnt kill my travel companion ( yes hes had a bout of that too !) I thought I might write a few lines about the food in this part of the world
The fare offered by the local street stalls sadly doesnt really live up to the same standard as the Thai. That said, is it any surprise in a country where less than half my lifetime ago, people were living basically on rice ? A wander around the local markets is also unlikely to get one salivating either. Scraggy Anorexic chickens looking more dead than alive as they await the cleaver - probably to do them a favour in all honesty. Flies abound in the heat of the day, Nothing particularly appetising about that either. Yesterday morning I walked out of the hotel to find what can only have been a local cook curing bacon on a large piece of paper on the top of a Tuk tuk - the usual plethera of flies in close attendance.
The above said, its not all bad news. The cooks in the hotel are pretty damn good. Ive tried many of the dishes on the menu here which average about 5 dollars - 3 quid. Whilst the portions arent gonna get you fat anytime soon, apparently every single ingredient in the sauces are genuinely home made - right down to the gravy you get with your Shepherds pie - yes you can have that too. The other day, I was treated by the owners wifes mother to a home made chicken curry, which was done with various spices and peanuts, and was truly excellent. ( I did of course have to erase the vision of the chickens in the marketplace completely from my mind)
Tonight there was even more good news. Ive had a few fish dishes which, with the exception of a nice Khmair dish called fish Amok which was catfish done in the usual tasty sauces, mostly contain large prawns and squid. Tonight on the riverfront I had a spicy prawn noodle soup, followed by a seafood salad. Both were truly fantastic. The seafood salad also contained crab and in no small measure. The soup was a meal in itself, but I managed to force both dishes down, paying a grand total of $6.25 for both. Of course these prices are for eating out. Apparently even picking the choicest ingredients to cook when we leave the hotel and move into an appartment will cost chicken feed . Its just a pity the chickens dont get any of it.
So theres good news and bad news. All that said, despite having in eaten in places many in the west may be frightened to take a pee in, I havent had anything approaching a bad case of the trots. Perhaps those who argue that a little dirt is good for you are onto something after all. I did actually draw the line one night in Thailand when my lady friend returned from a vendor with two bags of food which she not so generously offered me. One was a bag of crickets, of which I managed half a leg, and the other contained fried maggots - Again I managed a grand total of one. Im reliably informed that these things are absolutely laden to the rafters with protein. Unfortunately to me, the cricket leg had the taste of peanut flavoured lard, whilst the maggots tasted of exactly the same without the peanut essence. Thanks, but no thanks.
10th december - a room with a view
OK, so now its official. Im staying in Phnom Penh for at least another 4 months. Yesterday myself and Les agreed to a minimum 4 month stay in a spacious appartment about 5 minutes from our current location. ( photos to follow when we move in on Dec 21st). It has two decent sized ensuite bedrooms complete with cable TV. It has a very spacious lounge which we are assured will be furnished to requirements by the time we move in. it also has a small balcony from which we have a view over a large park which sits in front of the national museum ( see photos in Cambodia album) We havent got a direct internet connection, but fortuneately the Irish bar almost directly below us has wifi, so hopefully we'll be able to come to some arrangement with the owners. This is going to work out for the two of us for the grand cost of £30 quid a week. I cant afford to come home ! Not only that, I was scheduled to arrive back in England at 6 o clock on the evening of the 23rd december after almost a two day journey, which, if the outward journey is anything to go by would have just wasted me for christmas and the new year, by which time Id be wanting to return here anyways. About the only potentially disturbing aspect to the extended stay is that in about 3 months the weather will be seriously hot - apparently approaching 40 degrees. I'll be meditating for no power cuts, whilst praising ( for all its negative aspects ) the wonders of Air conditioning.
Yesterday, courtesy of the wonders of modern technology, Tonia managed to send me the first four lessons of "Teach yourself Cambodian", which I can assure you makes it easier than it sounds. However, If I want to achieve what I came here to achieve then I desperately need to learn the lingo. My knowledge currently extends to Prom Prei, Tang Nioww and a few simple sentences. The first 2 are nicknames for me - Friendly face, and bald head - less of the bald head please ! Then again, what can't speak can't lie.
Tommorrow night is Joker night again. Last week, with Les suffering from the after-effects of Denghi fever, we never went, but again neither prize was won. Heaven only knows what pitch the fever will hit this weekend with a jackpot now sitting at $14,000 dollars. Having just had a week off the beer myself, I shouldnt wonder that i'll be joining in the pandemonium after a couple of beers get me giddy.
15th December - Love, Money or Fashion accessory ?
As youngsters we are influenced all to easily by our peers, to what can be reasonably described as a disturbing extent. Peer pressure greatly influences both our culture and our tradition. As a deeply impressionable teenager, I can never forget owning a clumsy pair of high heeled shoes, reffered to at the time as "rockers". When I first saw a friend wearing a pair, I thought he'd lost the plot, or was perhaps practising for a career in the circus on stilts. But as more of my classmates started to wear them, I quickly succumbed, and myself became three inches taller in a pair of these things.
Now what, you might ask does all this have to do with a tour of south East Asia ? Well the answer is Cambodian women. Out here, you will quickly lose count of the number of "berang" or white men, usually in their 40s and 50s with a beautiful Cambodian wife, who agewise in the west at least could comfortably pass for their daughters. So what possesses these women to make them fall for a middle aged overweight chain smoking binge drinking guy whos probably been divorced at least once in the west and has children older than she is ?
The cynic will of course go for the money angle, and there can be little doubt that often this is a key factor. Berang buys the drinks , the food , the cloths - just about everything. Berang often pays a dowry to his intendeds parents et cetera et cetera. In short, Berang can offer this girl a standard of living that she could never reasonably expect to have with a Cambodian man.
But I think that this is perhaps overplayed. If money was the only factor, then you surely wouldnt have the number of successful relationships that last and last that you do, which is where the cultural aspect comes into it. Rather like myself with my stupid shoes, it appears that ingrained in this culture is respect for the elderly, and more. To be seen with a Berang - often the older the better - offers massive social prestige - and its very damn fashionable. Moreover, I havent spoken to a Khmair lady yet who likes the colour of their skin. The girls will often sit gawping in awe at the TV screen whenever a pale skinned female icon appears - and of course to marry a Berang affords them the added opportunity to have pale skinned children of their own - something which many Khmair ladies doubtless dream of.
Finally, more often than not, a khmair wife is fiercely loyal. They will cook, clean, launder, and generally tend to you as if your the only guy on earth. Some will even tolerate the odd indiscretion with another woman, whilst at the same time betrayal on your part can be very hazardous for your health - that will usually depend upon the woman herself.
I suppose its very difficult for westerners to understand what a beautiful young khmair girl would see in an elderly berang, other than money. The big question is ; Is that because of their cultural failings or ours ? Think about that.
Finally, last weeks joker jackpot didnt go - but neither did we. Apparently if youre not their early, you cant even get through the bloody doors now. I will get a photo of the infamous case from which the cards are selected in due course, but I doubt if it will be on the night of the draw - its just mayhem in there on friday just now. I shouldnt be surprised, if when it finally gets won, Ill hear the groans from my hotel room about a mile away.
3rd January 2010 - The appartment
Happy new year everyone ! After something close to a 10 day wait for our own exclusive internet connection I can finally bring you quickly up to speed. We moved in to our spacious place on the 21st of December. It sits just off the riverside ( about a 2 minute walk), with an extremely nice view from the balcony ( see photos). There are 2 big ensuite bedrooms, and a large living room / kitchen. ( again see photos)
On reflection, perhaps its a good job the internet was down since the first few days was a scramble around crowded markets and shops haggling for neccesities - bedsheets, clean pillows ( the ones left in the room looked like a team of coalminers without access to water had slept on them), cups, cutlery, towels et cetera ad infinitum. Having a native speaker with us must have saved us a boatload of money as she huffed and puffed at every first price quoted - threatened to leave, shouted, any number of methods were employed with resounding success.
We had hoped to piggyback onto the internet connection at Rorys bar, situated just below us, but realised that both the signal strength and download speed wouldnt cut the mustard, so we ended up trawling around Phnom Penh looking for the right kind of package. Eventually we settled for a deal at around 85 dollars a month - the internet is one of the few things that doesnt come particularly cheap around these parts. The service however is excellent.
So here we are - home sweet home. The weather is slowly heating up just now, so the air conditioning will doubtless be something of a godsend. For the next couple of weeks its a case of getting our heads down and making a few bob. The latter half of the month looks like it will be rather busy. I have to make a one day return trip ( in a bloody taxi) to vietnam to get a business visa, on or around the 12th of the month. That should provide a few good photo opportunities at least. That will then be followed by a 3 day visit to Siam Reip, home of the legendary Ankor Wat temple complex, where I intend to spend my coughtieth birthday. Reports will obviously follow.
Ive gone back to school again. The last few days have been spent quietly trying to come to terms with the Khmair language, and it aint easy. It doesnt help that the letters of the khmair alphabet arent standard western romanised. They are more akin to individual works of art, and artistry of any kind other than piss is not one of my stronger suits. Not only that, many of the sounds are not the kind made in conventional western conversation unless perhaps your speaking to someone who has your privates in a vice like grip. All that said, Im desperate to learn, so by hook or by crook, learn I will.
If anyone reading this has anything they wish to know about this part of the world, then please leave any questions or requests in the comments section of the blog, and if at all possible I will be happy to respond.
And finally, there are two things around these parts these days that are guaranteed to logjam traffic around the streets of the city. The first is a visit by any dignitaries to the presidents palace, or the president himself touring the city. The second is the Friday night joker draw. Yes that old chestnut is still going. This week there are 2 cards left. The winner of the raffle will have a choice between the joker card and the queen of heartbreaks, with 21,500 dollars at stake. The latest photos show the scene outside the walkabout last Friday. Keep in mind that this road is one of the busiest in the city. Half of the four roads on this junction are barely accessible, unless your prepared to mow a few people down to get through.
Thats all for now - "Chum rip lia !" ( "goodbye" in cambodian expressed phoenetically as best as I can)
9th Jan 2010 - "You couldnt make it up"
Earlier in the week I decided to take a quick stroll up past the Presidential palace - an area hitherto unexplored by myself. Im rather glad I did. For about 1 square mile is a region of this city whos general beauty belies the everyday overall shabbiness and squalor that a tourist would generally encounter. Pictures of the more meagre side of cambodia will follow in due course, but for the time being you can see the much pleasanter face of Phnom Penh from 3 shots in the photo Album.
There now follows three examples of "you couldnt make it up", and trust me Ive saved the very best until last.
1/ This week we had a visitor to our appartment on most days. Gary, A good friend of Les (who we met for a few drinks in Pattaya on a couple of occasions) was in town on a visa run. I went into the lounge one day to see a board laid out on the table, with any number of miniature instruments of war scattered around it. The game is called axis and allies, and as I was about to discover is most definitely not for the impatient. Over the course of the next four days, as I wandered in and out of my room for some food or drink or whatever both Gary and Les were sat pondering in silence over there moves. At one point as the week went on, I actually began to wonder if they had both petrified. On and on and on it went - from maybe 1 pm until at the very earliest 10 pm. One session apparently finished at 6 am in the morning ! Gary had informed us that he was leaving early on Saturday morning, So, Yesterday evening ( friday) I went in to see the pieces of the game swept to one side of the board, as what had been a titanic battle had it seemed finally come to a close - after at least 40 concentrated hours of studying and pondering by both parties. "Who won?" I enquired politely. "It was a draw" came the mind numbing response !
2/. Yesterday afternoon, I had to go to a travel agents about a five minute Tuk tuk ride away to sort out a short stay visa for Vietnam, where I will be going this week in order to get a long stay Visa for Cambodia. I know, I know, its unreal isnt it ? I reckon visa renewals account for no mean percentage of the South East Asian GNP. Anyhow, since my Cambodian speaking skills dont yet extend to explaining this kind of thing to a Tuk tuk driver, I left the task of telling the tuk tuk driver to our friend Tao. I stood and listened whilst she explained this to the driver with the word "Visa" being constantly repeated in the conversation.
I was somewhat confused therefore when we set off for the visa agents to find the Tuk Tuk driver heading in what appeared to be the complete opposite location, and eventually pulling up outside what was clearly some kind of fast food restaurant. As I was about to enquire what exactly was going on, and beginning to feel like a tourist taking a Black cab in London ( taking you 12 miles to cover 1) the driver turned round to me, pointed at the building, smiled and said " Pizza ?" It rather made me wonder if learning the language is really going to be worthwhile.
3/ So yesterday was friday and friday is Joker day. For the last several weeks now, Friday has always been the most expensive day of the week as I paid what appeared to be my customary Joker Tax of 25 dollars. Having decided to stay in on this occasion and attempt to recoup this tax at the poker tables, what follows is an anectdotal account of events as explained by one of the key participants. Before I explain any further, it may be well worth having a look in the photo album at the picture of the Joker case. There are two unturned cards - one is the joker or 21,500 dollars - the other is the three of spades or a 900 dollar motorbike - Which unturned card would you choose ?
The usual frenzy had begun to build up as the drum began to spin, and a thousand hopes and dreams spun with it. Les and Tao had there customary piece of paper with our numbers written on it. The number comes out 023 something something something. A cursory glance at the paper quickly shows that once again the Joker tax has apparently been paid to no avail. All that remains is to wait for the winning ticketholder to reveal themselves and listen to the mayhem as the losers boo the winner up to the case and hope that he or she misses.
Well, like I said you cant make this stuff up. The allocated time to claim the prize passes ( about 10 minutes Im told) and nobody shows up. Its time for a redraw. You can guess whats coming cant you ? At this point, Les says hes now trying to find the paper with our numbers on it. In something of a drunken stupor, and amidst all the mayhem in the bar, he cant remember which pocket hes put it in, or if hes thrown it away in a mini disgust tantrum. as the number is being pulled out and announced, he says that Tao has found it buried in a scrumpled heap in one of his many deep pockets in his shorts. The number is announced. 093515. Apparently he didnt even need the paper at this point. His girlfriend who appears to have a photographic memory to accompany a genuine midas touch ( shes picked the winning ticket on at least 8 other occasions and has the prizes to prove it ) screams at Les that they have this number. All they have to do now is find the ticket. pulling tickets out from just about every orifice in their clothing, the two of them locate the bundle containing the correct sequence of numbers. As they work thru the numbers, needless to say the winning ticket is missing from its designated place in the sequence. More blind panic and scrambling ensues before eventually finding the lucky winner.
What now happened is, according to Les very much a blur. Having won on so many previous occassions, one would consider it logical that Tao should go and choose the card.Regrettably such frequent success in these draws is not looked upon too kindly by some people in these parts, especially on this occasion with so much at stake. Discretion thus took the better part of valour, and it was decided that Les would make the walk of destiny up to the case, with Gary as his minder. It must have looked like some scene out of a world title boxing contest as Gary is moving people out of the way with the contender for glory following head bowed in his wake. As the case opens Les says he felt decidedly ill - desperately trying to avoid eye contact with any of the baying mob whos collective mental focus would be urging him to miss. Which would you choose ? He says that as he made the decision and picked the card, he couldnt bear to look. He also said that he would have known which it was from the reaction of the crowd - 21,500 dollars, or a 900 buck motor cycle.....21,500 dollars, or a 900 buck motor cycle.....21,500 dollars, or a 900 buck motor cycle.....21,500 dollars, or a 900 buck motor cycle...................................
The funny thing is, neither myself or Les can actually ride a motor cycle, and as such it isnt much use to us. We have subsequently decided to sell the vehicle and split the cash three ways. we'll keep a couple of hundred dollars each, and "reinvest" the rest next week. At least the winner this time will know their fate. Apparently the pitch of the scream Les heard on turning the card was only equalled by the depth which his heart sunk on hearing it.
On cold reflection both myself and Les werent particularly dissapointed at missing the big one for ourselves. To both of us, whilst 7500 dollars certainly isnt chicken feed, neither will it change either of our lives. We were both more upset for Tao. That kind of money to someone like her is a good 7 years of annual salary and can help a lot of friends and relations. I personally would have been giving a fair portion of mine to the worthiest causes I could find out here, so I suppose they might feel it a bit too. Oh well.
Could you make it up ?
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