Friday 23rd April
So here we are on Friday the 23rd of April. Saint George’s day and Shakespeare’s birthday.
Wednesday just gone was also the Queen’s Birthday – don’t remember if it was her real or official one.
With all this happening this week, and with me undergoing some strange attack of patriotism – I have been trying to track down some English event this week to celebrate it all (well, to go and drink and socialise at…) but I have found absolutely nothing.
In a final last ditch attempt to find out what is going on (or not as the case appears) I contact my liaison at the British Embassy here in Phnom Penh.
‘Sorry, Darren’ he apologises, ‘we used to have a budget for holding parties and things for such occasions, but they have just cut the amount down and down over the years. These days it is just about all we can do to offer you a coffee when you come round to see us.’’
Outrageous!
I mean, what is the point of having a British Embassy that does not hold an Embassy ball every now and then ?
Forget about Visa’s, lost passports, pending criminal charges and all that tourist lot. What about those of us who live out here? What about our needs ??
All in all a very poor showing.
So, not to be defeated by the wealth of inertia sweeping across all Englishmen abroad, I set about launching an Email and Text campaign to rally the troops to a central drinking point this evening.
So far I have; 2 Scots, 1 Irish, 2 Aussies and 3 of my Khmer colleagues who have no idea what I am banging on about, but they think it must be important to me so they will do whatever I ask of them.
I am sure I would have had more success if I had just said ‘’Its Friday, lets go drink beer’
It is sad but true, as a nation, we are an apathetic bunch these days.
At least I managed to get a red rose for my buttonhole this morning.
‘‘Cry God for Harry, England and Saint George’’
D
Saturday, April 24, 2004
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
April and Pub Quiz Night
So here we are in Phnom Penh, capital of Cambodia and a strange city of contrasts.
Last night, Monday, I went to an ex-pat bar called ‘The Peace Café’ it is the nearest ex-pat bar - but not the nearest bar – to my humble little flat.
Now the Peace Café has been open for a number of years both here and at a previous location. It is run by an incredibly diminutive Englishman called David, who can just about see over his own bar.
Like many ex-pat bar owners here in this city he is a former English teacher who having made a pile of cash teaching middleclass Khmer children English decided to marry a Khmer woman and open a bar – I know of at least 5 bar owners that fit this description and I have only been here a few months !
The bar has a dark, slightly seedy and down at heel feel to it. Dimly lit with tattered books and pamphlets scattered around and David’s own dark and abstract artwork hanging on the walls. Reminding me simultaneously of Munch crossed with a six year-old with a crayon set.
Most times that I have been in there I have usually been the only customer, but Monday evening, in that great British tradition, is Pub Quiz night. On Mondays you can expect to find 40 or 50 people crammed into this tiny hole-in-the-wall bar and for US$1 each they enter the ‘pointy head pub quiz’ the winner of which takes all the cash.
Now US$40 or US$50 is a lot of money here in Cambodia. It would take a Khmer police officer 2 months to earn that much money (not including his bribes and extortion) so everyone is taking it very seriously.
Even so, it does seem slightly surreal to be sat in this strange bar on a Monday evening here in the heart of Phnom Penh competing in a pub quiz answering questions about British soap-operas and when was the Queens official birthday.
Even more so considering it was about 35ºC yesterday evening!
But there we were, my team the ‘VSO Very Irregulars’ romping into the lead. When we get around to the last round, the last series of 10 questions, now these rounds change every week so as to make it more ‘interesting’ …
Well, the topic for this round turned out to be a music questions, name the song and the artist.
Not to bad we thought, should do okay with this, have a good cross-sections of ages in the team, will cover quite a range of music.
Then the MC announces that they will all be classic rock songs we are not feeling to worried, covers a lot of ground but we are confident.
Then he announces that the songs will be all be classic rock CAMBODIAN hits and that Barry the great hairy arsed builder from Wolverhampton - complete with football shirt, tattoos and bum-cleavage - would be whistling the songs for us.
Well, as one might imagine, we did not do to well in that round. In fact out of a possible 10 points we scored about as well as the Finnish entrant in the Eurovision Song Contest – VSO nil points.
So I can tell you, coming in second to a team of American women – who luckily for them had a Khmer girl on the team – really really hurts.
Still, we will just have to get our own back on them next week.
I can see this becoming a regular thing.
Regards All
More booze filled tales from South East Asia soon.
Darren
N.B.
The Peace Café can be found on 63rd Street, half a block South of the intersection with 360th Street
Last night, Monday, I went to an ex-pat bar called ‘The Peace Café’ it is the nearest ex-pat bar - but not the nearest bar – to my humble little flat.
Now the Peace Café has been open for a number of years both here and at a previous location. It is run by an incredibly diminutive Englishman called David, who can just about see over his own bar.
Like many ex-pat bar owners here in this city he is a former English teacher who having made a pile of cash teaching middleclass Khmer children English decided to marry a Khmer woman and open a bar – I know of at least 5 bar owners that fit this description and I have only been here a few months !
The bar has a dark, slightly seedy and down at heel feel to it. Dimly lit with tattered books and pamphlets scattered around and David’s own dark and abstract artwork hanging on the walls. Reminding me simultaneously of Munch crossed with a six year-old with a crayon set.
Most times that I have been in there I have usually been the only customer, but Monday evening, in that great British tradition, is Pub Quiz night. On Mondays you can expect to find 40 or 50 people crammed into this tiny hole-in-the-wall bar and for US$1 each they enter the ‘pointy head pub quiz’ the winner of which takes all the cash.
Now US$40 or US$50 is a lot of money here in Cambodia. It would take a Khmer police officer 2 months to earn that much money (not including his bribes and extortion) so everyone is taking it very seriously.
Even so, it does seem slightly surreal to be sat in this strange bar on a Monday evening here in the heart of Phnom Penh competing in a pub quiz answering questions about British soap-operas and when was the Queens official birthday.
Even more so considering it was about 35ºC yesterday evening!
But there we were, my team the ‘VSO Very Irregulars’ romping into the lead. When we get around to the last round, the last series of 10 questions, now these rounds change every week so as to make it more ‘interesting’ …
Well, the topic for this round turned out to be a music questions, name the song and the artist.
Not to bad we thought, should do okay with this, have a good cross-sections of ages in the team, will cover quite a range of music.
Then the MC announces that they will all be classic rock songs we are not feeling to worried, covers a lot of ground but we are confident.
Then he announces that the songs will be all be classic rock CAMBODIAN hits and that Barry the great hairy arsed builder from Wolverhampton - complete with football shirt, tattoos and bum-cleavage - would be whistling the songs for us.
Well, as one might imagine, we did not do to well in that round. In fact out of a possible 10 points we scored about as well as the Finnish entrant in the Eurovision Song Contest – VSO nil points.
So I can tell you, coming in second to a team of American women – who luckily for them had a Khmer girl on the team – really really hurts.
Still, we will just have to get our own back on them next week.
I can see this becoming a regular thing.
Regards All
More booze filled tales from South East Asia soon.
Darren
N.B.
The Peace Café can be found on 63rd Street, half a block South of the intersection with 360th Street
Big Khmer Party Night Out !
07:30 Friday the 9th of April 2004
ooo, I feel rough this morning. Plus I am the only one in the office so far !
Last night was the big Ministry of Fish ‘Welcome Darren Party’
They said that they would send a driver for me at 5pm as the meal at the restaurant was booked for 5:30. so at 6pm I wandered out onto my balcony to wait for them – I know what 5pm really means in Cambodia – at 6:15 I got a phone call saying that they could not find the street I lived on – the Khmer seem to have an aversion to maps – so for the 6th time that day I gave them directions to my house. 6:45 they turn up and 7 of us squeeze into one small Toyota Camrey.
When we get to the restaurant, about half an hour to drive 3 miles, there are only about 20 people there so far, but the top brass are here so I am guided over to sit with them. Then the drinking begins. I am poured a large glass of beer – with the compulsory iceberg floating in it – along with a shot of whiskey. Every time someone arrives, we have a shot of whiskey, every time someone makes a speech, we have a shot of whiskey, every time another plate of food arrives, we have a shot of whiskey. Now there were about 45 people at this meal, a dozen speeches and about 15 courses of food – so we were drinking an awful lot of Scotch ! Well, at least it was scotch, not the local ‘Mekong Whiskey’ which costs about US$ 1 a bottle – urrrk
If I remember correctly, about 12 of those 15 courses were fish of some kind. Here we are, working for the Ministry of Fish trying to figure out ways to conserve fish stocks and supplies in the Country….. I have an idea, why don’t we try NOT consuming our own bodyweight in fish everyday, that might help !?!
Mind you, they waste nothing here. I was sat next to the Vice-Minister for something or another and he merrily tucked into the entrails from the large baked Snakehead fish. Once he had polished them off he set about plucking the eyeballs out of the head and ate those as well, while on my other side the Office Chief of wherever was ripping the gills off to dip in his pickled mango sauce.
Actually the picked mango stuff is lovely, you julienne unripe mangos, mix in some red chillies, add some salt and sugar and leave in white vinegar for a few hours, it’s great, it totally kills the taste buds, very useful if you have a greasy bowl of fish head soup in front of you at breakfast.
So all of these festivities carry on, I get up and have to give the closing speech, thanking my hosts, my colleagues, the government of Cambodia, the dog barking outside the restaurant – all the usual stuff. Being very careful with the pronunciation of the 3 sentences I am going to say in K’mai as the word for help is ‘cheweee’ but, the word ‘chewe’ means fuck - I am here to HELP my colleagues in the Ministry……
After the speeches comes the Khmer dancing, now Khmer dancing is a strange thing at best, everyone walks very slowly anticlockwise around a table moving their hands around – one step forward, left palm up, right palm down, another step forward left palm down, right palm up – well, you get the idea, its all in the wrists I am told ?!?!
The dancing carries on for about an hour and then, very swiftly they party is over.
The project team I know best, the ones I spent a week with in Kompot Province, come over to me and Buntha the team leader asks if I want to go with them somewhere else, to carry on the party.
So, purely in the interests of international relations and team bonding I agree to carry on at another venue.
As we all pile back into the one car and pull out of the car-park Buntha asks me ‘’do I want to go to a karaoke bar, or do I want to go to ‘the house where the beautiful ladies are’ - What a choice, do I want to sing in public, or do I want to go to a Khmer brothel ?!?! Choosing the [slightly] lesser of these evils, I opt for the karaoke.
We drive around the city for what seems like hours looking for a special karaoke bar, which turns out to be down a shitty back street, just of a shitty back street which is near a shitty back street. About 50 years ago this building must have been an upmarket hotel, but now it has this wonderful post-apocalyptic look that reminds me of the city in Mad Max 3 - if that city was populated with Ewoks.
Each of the suites in this former hotel have been turned into small karaoke lounges; sofas all the way round 3 walls, large low coffee table in the middle, the 4th wall with a massive TV screen and speakers loud enough to use at a Def Leopard concert.
The 6 of us sit around the coffee table and in come our waitresses, because you do need 6 waitresses for 6 guests.
The waitresses pour us glasses of Tiger beer and Buntha launches into a full throated rendition of some Khmer chart topper, the videos for these songs all look the same, some lonely looking woman wandering through a rice field searching for her one true love who will whisk her away to a rock by the river ?!?
One of the other guys, Cheaa, apologises to me, he has just checked with his waitress and apparently they do not have any karaoke discs here with English songs, I try my hardest to look disappointed and tell him that it does not matter. The next thing I know, Buntha has sprinted out of the room and vanished, 5 minutes later he reappears clutching a CD, my heart drops. Yes, it just so happened that he has a collection of karaoke CD’s in the car – I reach for my beer quickly !
5 minutes later I am doing a duet with Buntha, ‘Hotel California’ has never been murdered as badly as it was that night. Me, tone deaf and drunk, him broken English and drunk.
This was a scene that was to be repeated with ‘Yesterday’ ‘American Pie’ and several songs that I had never even heard of ?!
More and more Tiger beer was being consumed at this point, as the waitresses were sat down next to each of us topping our glasses up after each sip of beer and popping ice cubes into it whenever they could – fridges are very rare out here!
Sometime around 1 in the morning we all pile back in on top of each other in the car and we weave our way through the backstreets of Phnom Penh – now it is not so much that Cambodia does not have any drink driving laws, it is more the fact that Cambodia has no driving laws whatsoever that worries me about journeys like this.
Still we somehow manage to get everyone home in one piece and I just collapse into bed.
Getting into work for 07:30 this morning was one hell of a challenge! Not that it seems I should have tried so hard, out of 40 members of staff, only about 8 are here !
Plus we have no electricity this morning, so nobody can do any work anyway – I am typing this up on my laptop!
Well, I guess I had better start thinking about my two and a half lunch break soon, shall I go home for a small snooze, or shall I pop round the corner to the local Khmer greasy spoon street vendor for some prawn fried rice with ‘prahok’ that is, fermented fish paste – they smother everything in it here.
More tales of daring and adventures from the third world next week kiddies and remember, do not try these things at home, all stunts are carried out here by trained professionals under expert supervision.
Ciao for now
D
ooo, I feel rough this morning. Plus I am the only one in the office so far !
Last night was the big Ministry of Fish ‘Welcome Darren Party’
They said that they would send a driver for me at 5pm as the meal at the restaurant was booked for 5:30. so at 6pm I wandered out onto my balcony to wait for them – I know what 5pm really means in Cambodia – at 6:15 I got a phone call saying that they could not find the street I lived on – the Khmer seem to have an aversion to maps – so for the 6th time that day I gave them directions to my house. 6:45 they turn up and 7 of us squeeze into one small Toyota Camrey.
When we get to the restaurant, about half an hour to drive 3 miles, there are only about 20 people there so far, but the top brass are here so I am guided over to sit with them. Then the drinking begins. I am poured a large glass of beer – with the compulsory iceberg floating in it – along with a shot of whiskey. Every time someone arrives, we have a shot of whiskey, every time someone makes a speech, we have a shot of whiskey, every time another plate of food arrives, we have a shot of whiskey. Now there were about 45 people at this meal, a dozen speeches and about 15 courses of food – so we were drinking an awful lot of Scotch ! Well, at least it was scotch, not the local ‘Mekong Whiskey’ which costs about US$ 1 a bottle – urrrk
If I remember correctly, about 12 of those 15 courses were fish of some kind. Here we are, working for the Ministry of Fish trying to figure out ways to conserve fish stocks and supplies in the Country….. I have an idea, why don’t we try NOT consuming our own bodyweight in fish everyday, that might help !?!
Mind you, they waste nothing here. I was sat next to the Vice-Minister for something or another and he merrily tucked into the entrails from the large baked Snakehead fish. Once he had polished them off he set about plucking the eyeballs out of the head and ate those as well, while on my other side the Office Chief of wherever was ripping the gills off to dip in his pickled mango sauce.
Actually the picked mango stuff is lovely, you julienne unripe mangos, mix in some red chillies, add some salt and sugar and leave in white vinegar for a few hours, it’s great, it totally kills the taste buds, very useful if you have a greasy bowl of fish head soup in front of you at breakfast.
So all of these festivities carry on, I get up and have to give the closing speech, thanking my hosts, my colleagues, the government of Cambodia, the dog barking outside the restaurant – all the usual stuff. Being very careful with the pronunciation of the 3 sentences I am going to say in K’mai as the word for help is ‘cheweee’ but, the word ‘chewe’ means fuck - I am here to HELP my colleagues in the Ministry……
After the speeches comes the Khmer dancing, now Khmer dancing is a strange thing at best, everyone walks very slowly anticlockwise around a table moving their hands around – one step forward, left palm up, right palm down, another step forward left palm down, right palm up – well, you get the idea, its all in the wrists I am told ?!?!
The dancing carries on for about an hour and then, very swiftly they party is over.
The project team I know best, the ones I spent a week with in Kompot Province, come over to me and Buntha the team leader asks if I want to go with them somewhere else, to carry on the party.
So, purely in the interests of international relations and team bonding I agree to carry on at another venue.
As we all pile back into the one car and pull out of the car-park Buntha asks me ‘’do I want to go to a karaoke bar, or do I want to go to ‘the house where the beautiful ladies are’ - What a choice, do I want to sing in public, or do I want to go to a Khmer brothel ?!?! Choosing the [slightly] lesser of these evils, I opt for the karaoke.
We drive around the city for what seems like hours looking for a special karaoke bar, which turns out to be down a shitty back street, just of a shitty back street which is near a shitty back street. About 50 years ago this building must have been an upmarket hotel, but now it has this wonderful post-apocalyptic look that reminds me of the city in Mad Max 3 - if that city was populated with Ewoks.
Each of the suites in this former hotel have been turned into small karaoke lounges; sofas all the way round 3 walls, large low coffee table in the middle, the 4th wall with a massive TV screen and speakers loud enough to use at a Def Leopard concert.
The 6 of us sit around the coffee table and in come our waitresses, because you do need 6 waitresses for 6 guests.
The waitresses pour us glasses of Tiger beer and Buntha launches into a full throated rendition of some Khmer chart topper, the videos for these songs all look the same, some lonely looking woman wandering through a rice field searching for her one true love who will whisk her away to a rock by the river ?!?
One of the other guys, Cheaa, apologises to me, he has just checked with his waitress and apparently they do not have any karaoke discs here with English songs, I try my hardest to look disappointed and tell him that it does not matter. The next thing I know, Buntha has sprinted out of the room and vanished, 5 minutes later he reappears clutching a CD, my heart drops. Yes, it just so happened that he has a collection of karaoke CD’s in the car – I reach for my beer quickly !
5 minutes later I am doing a duet with Buntha, ‘Hotel California’ has never been murdered as badly as it was that night. Me, tone deaf and drunk, him broken English and drunk.
This was a scene that was to be repeated with ‘Yesterday’ ‘American Pie’ and several songs that I had never even heard of ?!
More and more Tiger beer was being consumed at this point, as the waitresses were sat down next to each of us topping our glasses up after each sip of beer and popping ice cubes into it whenever they could – fridges are very rare out here!
Sometime around 1 in the morning we all pile back in on top of each other in the car and we weave our way through the backstreets of Phnom Penh – now it is not so much that Cambodia does not have any drink driving laws, it is more the fact that Cambodia has no driving laws whatsoever that worries me about journeys like this.
Still we somehow manage to get everyone home in one piece and I just collapse into bed.
Getting into work for 07:30 this morning was one hell of a challenge! Not that it seems I should have tried so hard, out of 40 members of staff, only about 8 are here !
Plus we have no electricity this morning, so nobody can do any work anyway – I am typing this up on my laptop!
Well, I guess I had better start thinking about my two and a half lunch break soon, shall I go home for a small snooze, or shall I pop round the corner to the local Khmer greasy spoon street vendor for some prawn fried rice with ‘prahok’ that is, fermented fish paste – they smother everything in it here.
More tales of daring and adventures from the third world next week kiddies and remember, do not try these things at home, all stunts are carried out here by trained professionals under expert supervision.
Ciao for now
D
Finished training course, job start !?!
Dear all,
Apologies for this mass mailing, but it is not always easy for me to get to an internet café – a lot of them are only open 9 to 5 and they close for lunch (the requisite 2 and a half hour Cambodian lunch break )
I have now finished my 7 week training course on working in Cambodia – including some very intense, and not to say difficult, lesson in speaking K’mai. I can now quite fluently say ‘’hello’’ ‘’How are you’’ ‘’Two beers please’’ and ‘’can I have the bill please’’ - what more do I need to learn ???
Last Thursday I moved into my own accommodation. A large and airy 2 bedroom flat on the 1st floor with a huge balcony over looking the quiet little side street I now live on. It is 5 minutes away from my office and about 7 minutes in the other direction away from the riverfront and all the bars and restaurants that line up along the banks there.
The mention of a spare bedroom there is a subtle hint to those of you that want a cheap holiday this year ………….
Also last week I decided to buy myself a motorbike, this is the only way to travel in Cambodia as the million and one moto owners in Phnom Penh will attest to. I bought my Honda KL400 from a German who was teaching English in the American language school !? He is returning to Bonn next month as he can no longer cope with it all !
There are a few problems with driving in Phnom Penh. Most of them are related to the fact that Cambodia has no driving laws.
Also there are the hundreds of moto-dopes – motorcycle taxis – in the city; you can not walk 5 yards in the city without 10 people shouting ‘moto moto moto’ at you.
These moto-dopes are, by far, the quickest and cheapest way of getting around the city.
However, travelling in traffic in Phnom Penh is not for the faint of heart.
Nominally the Khmers drive on the right, in reality, they drive on the side of the road that is nearest, or with the least potholes, or that is in the shade or just on the side of the road that they feel like. Basically, it is drive on the right – eventually.
At junctions - and there are many as the city is built on a grid formation, there are no traffic lights and no give way signs. (you have to love those French colonial town planners)
But it is not quite the free-for-all one thinks at first, there are rules:
Whomever’s vehicle is biggest has right of way:
Apologies for this mass mailing, but it is not always easy for me to get to an internet café – a lot of them are only open 9 to 5 and they close for lunch (the requisite 2 and a half hour Cambodian lunch break )
I have now finished my 7 week training course on working in Cambodia – including some very intense, and not to say difficult, lesson in speaking K’mai. I can now quite fluently say ‘’hello’’ ‘’How are you’’ ‘’Two beers please’’ and ‘’can I have the bill please’’ - what more do I need to learn ???
Last Thursday I moved into my own accommodation. A large and airy 2 bedroom flat on the 1st floor with a huge balcony over looking the quiet little side street I now live on. It is 5 minutes away from my office and about 7 minutes in the other direction away from the riverfront and all the bars and restaurants that line up along the banks there.
The mention of a spare bedroom there is a subtle hint to those of you that want a cheap holiday this year ………….
Also last week I decided to buy myself a motorbike, this is the only way to travel in Cambodia as the million and one moto owners in Phnom Penh will attest to. I bought my Honda KL400 from a German who was teaching English in the American language school !? He is returning to Bonn next month as he can no longer cope with it all !
There are a few problems with driving in Phnom Penh. Most of them are related to the fact that Cambodia has no driving laws.
Also there are the hundreds of moto-dopes – motorcycle taxis – in the city; you can not walk 5 yards in the city without 10 people shouting ‘moto moto moto’ at you.
These moto-dopes are, by far, the quickest and cheapest way of getting around the city.
However, travelling in traffic in Phnom Penh is not for the faint of heart.
Nominally the Khmers drive on the right, in reality, they drive on the side of the road that is nearest, or with the least potholes, or that is in the shade or just on the side of the road that they feel like. Basically, it is drive on the right – eventually.
At junctions - and there are many as the city is built on a grid formation, there are no traffic lights and no give way signs. (you have to love those French colonial town planners)
But it is not quite the free-for-all one thinks at first, there are rules:
Whomever’s vehicle is biggest has right of way:
- Blue license plates (government) have right of way over green licence plates (NGO’s) and green have right of way over white (the general populous)
- If you make eye-contact, you lose your right of way
- If you sound your horn loudly as you approach a junction and are doing more than 30 mph you have right of way
- Barang – foreigners – are always in the wrong
- Whomever has the most guns on show also has right of way
What makes this chaos even more perilous is the fact that out of the 10,000 moto drivers in the city, about 12 of them own crash helmets.
When an accident does take place all the locals in the vicinity rush over to the scene and form what we ex-pats colloquially call ‘the Khmer circle of death’ they all stand around the injured person laying on the floor and stare at them talking loudly to each other. None of them will actually lend assistance, but the longer it goes on, the larger the circle becomes, as passing motorists also stop, get of their bikes and join the crowd. Nobody lends a hand to the injured person, they just like to watch.
Well, I guess this is a Country without MTV…….
Leaving the traffic chaos aside for a moment, I also started work this week. So far I have shaken hands and been introduced to around 50 people, there is no way I am ever going to remember everyone’s names, I can rarely remember peoples names when I can pronounce them, let alone names like ‘Kou Huy Leang’ or ‘Keov Nut Ly Sovathpheap’ these are real name of people I work with !
As well as shaking a lot of hands this week, I have also started reading through some project reports for some of the projects I will be overseeing during the next few years, most of them have been written by people for whom English is their third language and little things like grammar, spelling, the order words go in, et cetera are mere trifles not to be bothered with?!? It can also make for difficult reading when you come a sentences like ‘’The variability of fish supply is variable’’ - well, I am sure that it makes sense to someone in some language?!?
Yet despite all this, I have been having a good time,
I have enjoyed the training, even parts of the language course – my most embarrassing faux pas in K’mai was only last week when I confidently said ‘’The weather in Cambodia is very penis’’ it turns out that there is only half a vowel sounds difference between that and hot !!!
I have also enjoyed the local cuisine rice and fish being 90% of the traditional food here. But I have also tried one of the prized local delicacies – deep fried salted cockroaches - very crunchy, tasted a bit like dry roasted peanuts. For a special treat next month I might try another local dish – deep fried battered tarantula :-)
Well, I had better sign off now and get back to work, my 2 and a half hour lunch is nearly over – it goes so quick!
Take Care all
Darren - our man in Cam
Crash Bang Wallop
So there I am on a slow Sunday afternoon, at the end of a week long bank holiday from work. I had been stuck in Phnom Penh for the whole week while everybody else in the city had headed out to, the coast, the Provinces – or just plain left the Country – so I was getting a bit bored of my own company. Having had a late start to the day and having checked my Emails from back home, I decide to take a ride down to St. 240 to see if my friend Jean-Paul had reopened his wine bar, Le Petit Bordeaux. Upon reaching it I was annoyed to see that it was still closed, like half the city during Khmer New Year. So as I was turning around to head back home I noticed that ’Freebird’ was open. Now, I have never been in there before, it advertises itself as an American Bar and Grill, so why would I both? But as almost everywhere else was closed and this place was right in front of me, I thought I would check it out.
As I stroll in I notice that the staff outnumbered the customers about 6 to 1 – and I was that one customer. But what the hell, they served food and I was there. Sitting at the bar I ordered a freshly squeezed Satsuma juice and some food. While I was waiting I slowly looked around the place. US Memorabilia on the walls, some Aussie odds and sods as well, well it could have been worse.
The staff were friendly and were chatting away, I alternate between talking to them and reading this weekends International Herald Tribune. After a while another customer comes in, and American reporter and his Khmer girlfriend, he is obviously a regular and they sit at the bar chatting away to the girls who are getting all excited, it turns out that the Yank had just proposed to his Khmer girlfriend and had given her a very large diamond ring – in fact it had 3 large diamonds in it.
So he is feeling pretty good about himself and he is chatting away, it transpires that he has only been in Country about a month and that the ring was his grandmothers, made in 1901, blah blah blah – what is it with Americans and their need to tell you every last unasked for fact about themselves ?
Still I guess he is allowed to be happy, I mean he has just proposed to a hooker who he is not going to see for the next six months while he is back in the States and she is getting her visa sorted out…
So, I just kind of tune out and finish my Khmer interpretation of what a Beef Enchilada is ?!?
Feeling a little tired of being in this bar I settle up my tab - som kit loy - and hop back on the bike.
Heading back along the main Boulevard I was thinking to myself that one of the good things about this Khmer New Year is the fact that there is so little traffic around, thanks to everyone leaving the city.
Just as I was thinking this, a car with no headlights on flies out of a side street, clips me and races off along the main road.
I have swerved all over the place, hit the kerb and gone flying across into the wall.
Dazed for a moment, I stagger to my feet to see a crowd gathering around me, all asking what happened, what happened.
Then I hear an English voice (well one from Manchester) say, ‘Darren, you okay’ so I look around and it is Barry, who owns a bar up near the riverfront I have been to a few times, he was riding the other way when he saw the car hit me, he did not know it was me until he stopped.
He was on his way home, and had his security guard on the back of his moto giving him a lift, so he suggests that we leave the security guard to sort the bike out and that he runs me over the road to his place so we can stop the blood that is pouring down my face.
‘what blood’ I ask, as I raise a hand to my throbbing head. Oh, that blood!
So we hop back to Dave’s place and set about tending my wounds, thankfully they are just cuts and bruises, the cut across my forehead has bleed and awful lot, but it was only about half an inch long.
Being very happy and very thankful that nothing was broken, or anything more serious. I accept Barry’s offer of a very large Scotch.
While we are finishing off the Highland Malt Painkiller, Barry’s wife turns up.
Now, across the darkened balcony Barry’s wife looks like she is about 4 foot tall, as she gets closer, I realise that she is 4 foot tall, she is Khmer.
So she starts flapping and fussing ‘are you okay, are you okay’ I manage to convince her that everything is fine, so she then starts trying to feed the pair of us – sorry, ate earlier. So then she resorts to filling up our whiskey glasses. After which, she insists that I spend the night there rather than trying to get home.
So I crash out in the spare room and sleep.
The following morning I wake about 8 and realise that I am late for work, I dash out of the house and jump on a moto-taxi, halfway back to my house I think, what the hell. I think that I will phone in sick, I really don’t feel like it today.
So I get home, and I clean myself up some more, change the dressings and wonder how badly the bike was damaged? Oh well, I would check that out in the evening. Little did I know that that would be a major hassle in itself ……………
As I stroll in I notice that the staff outnumbered the customers about 6 to 1 – and I was that one customer. But what the hell, they served food and I was there. Sitting at the bar I ordered a freshly squeezed Satsuma juice and some food. While I was waiting I slowly looked around the place. US Memorabilia on the walls, some Aussie odds and sods as well, well it could have been worse.
The staff were friendly and were chatting away, I alternate between talking to them and reading this weekends International Herald Tribune. After a while another customer comes in, and American reporter and his Khmer girlfriend, he is obviously a regular and they sit at the bar chatting away to the girls who are getting all excited, it turns out that the Yank had just proposed to his Khmer girlfriend and had given her a very large diamond ring – in fact it had 3 large diamonds in it.
So he is feeling pretty good about himself and he is chatting away, it transpires that he has only been in Country about a month and that the ring was his grandmothers, made in 1901, blah blah blah – what is it with Americans and their need to tell you every last unasked for fact about themselves ?
Still I guess he is allowed to be happy, I mean he has just proposed to a hooker who he is not going to see for the next six months while he is back in the States and she is getting her visa sorted out…
So, I just kind of tune out and finish my Khmer interpretation of what a Beef Enchilada is ?!?
Feeling a little tired of being in this bar I settle up my tab - som kit loy - and hop back on the bike.
Heading back along the main Boulevard I was thinking to myself that one of the good things about this Khmer New Year is the fact that there is so little traffic around, thanks to everyone leaving the city.
Just as I was thinking this, a car with no headlights on flies out of a side street, clips me and races off along the main road.
I have swerved all over the place, hit the kerb and gone flying across into the wall.
Dazed for a moment, I stagger to my feet to see a crowd gathering around me, all asking what happened, what happened.
Then I hear an English voice (well one from Manchester) say, ‘Darren, you okay’ so I look around and it is Barry, who owns a bar up near the riverfront I have been to a few times, he was riding the other way when he saw the car hit me, he did not know it was me until he stopped.
He was on his way home, and had his security guard on the back of his moto giving him a lift, so he suggests that we leave the security guard to sort the bike out and that he runs me over the road to his place so we can stop the blood that is pouring down my face.
‘what blood’ I ask, as I raise a hand to my throbbing head. Oh, that blood!
So we hop back to Dave’s place and set about tending my wounds, thankfully they are just cuts and bruises, the cut across my forehead has bleed and awful lot, but it was only about half an inch long.
Being very happy and very thankful that nothing was broken, or anything more serious. I accept Barry’s offer of a very large Scotch.
While we are finishing off the Highland Malt Painkiller, Barry’s wife turns up.
Now, across the darkened balcony Barry’s wife looks like she is about 4 foot tall, as she gets closer, I realise that she is 4 foot tall, she is Khmer.
So she starts flapping and fussing ‘are you okay, are you okay’ I manage to convince her that everything is fine, so she then starts trying to feed the pair of us – sorry, ate earlier. So then she resorts to filling up our whiskey glasses. After which, she insists that I spend the night there rather than trying to get home.
So I crash out in the spare room and sleep.
The following morning I wake about 8 and realise that I am late for work, I dash out of the house and jump on a moto-taxi, halfway back to my house I think, what the hell. I think that I will phone in sick, I really don’t feel like it today.
So I get home, and I clean myself up some more, change the dressings and wonder how badly the bike was damaged? Oh well, I would check that out in the evening. Little did I know that that would be a major hassle in itself ……………
Khmer New Year
Wednesday the 7th of April.
Next Wednesday is Khmer New Years. This means that today, a week before NYE, the fun, festivities, rites and rituals have to start.
As I rode into the car park at work this morning, I was surprised by a group of men putting up an enormous orange marquee.
I was told that the purpose of these proceedings was to drive out bad spirits so that only good things were left to start the New Year with.
So here I am on only my third day at work, during which I am supposed to be editing a report requesting more funding from DFID – a task which is more like translating a report from pigeon to ‘English for bureaucrats’
While instead I am taking part in several Khmer festivities – much more fun !
First of all we have a couple of hours synchronised chanting by 8 monks, punctuated by the throwing of water and lotus petals over the audience – they must have thought that I had a lot of bad spirits that needed exorcising as I seemed to be the main target for a lot of the water and lotus leaves ?!?!
Then after a short break we some traditional Khmer dancing. Now when I say dancing you should not get the wrong idea, this is not dancing in any form that we would recognise. Traditional Khmer dancing is all done with the wrists and palms. Backs as stiff as a Victorian Major-General, the only other movement a slight swaying occasionally - although this could be due to the heat and possibly malnutrition ? Balancing a bowl of lotus leaves in their left hands, the 3 Khmer dancing girls slowly and gracefully twisted their right wrists and rotated their palms in perfect unison ?! Pausing every few minutes to throw lotus leaves over us – again.
Following on from that we had a small parade. Being led by a singer the small marching band followed with traditional Khmer instruments; drums, long necked lute-type instruments with only one string, 6 foot long poles with jingly bits of metal at the top – that sort of thing.
While the singer was retelling some ancient saga of good versus evil, it was being re-enacted as a small skit by some of the performers. A young lad dressed as a deer was first of all chased by a bowman around the musicians and the audience, he escaped but was then chased by two swordsmen, from whom he also escaped. Barley having a chance to catch his breath he was then set upon by two witches – complete with talons – finally free from all pursuers, he sat at the back of the audience and ate an apple. I am not sure if that last bit was part of the show or just the poor lad having a rest ?
So that is how my day is panning out, I can not wait to see what they have in store for this afternoon!
Next Wednesday is Khmer New Years. This means that today, a week before NYE, the fun, festivities, rites and rituals have to start.
As I rode into the car park at work this morning, I was surprised by a group of men putting up an enormous orange marquee.
I was told that the purpose of these proceedings was to drive out bad spirits so that only good things were left to start the New Year with.
So here I am on only my third day at work, during which I am supposed to be editing a report requesting more funding from DFID – a task which is more like translating a report from pigeon to ‘English for bureaucrats’
While instead I am taking part in several Khmer festivities – much more fun !
First of all we have a couple of hours synchronised chanting by 8 monks, punctuated by the throwing of water and lotus petals over the audience – they must have thought that I had a lot of bad spirits that needed exorcising as I seemed to be the main target for a lot of the water and lotus leaves ?!?!
Then after a short break we some traditional Khmer dancing. Now when I say dancing you should not get the wrong idea, this is not dancing in any form that we would recognise. Traditional Khmer dancing is all done with the wrists and palms. Backs as stiff as a Victorian Major-General, the only other movement a slight swaying occasionally - although this could be due to the heat and possibly malnutrition ? Balancing a bowl of lotus leaves in their left hands, the 3 Khmer dancing girls slowly and gracefully twisted their right wrists and rotated their palms in perfect unison ?! Pausing every few minutes to throw lotus leaves over us – again.
Following on from that we had a small parade. Being led by a singer the small marching band followed with traditional Khmer instruments; drums, long necked lute-type instruments with only one string, 6 foot long poles with jingly bits of metal at the top – that sort of thing.
While the singer was retelling some ancient saga of good versus evil, it was being re-enacted as a small skit by some of the performers. A young lad dressed as a deer was first of all chased by a bowman around the musicians and the audience, he escaped but was then chased by two swordsmen, from whom he also escaped. Barley having a chance to catch his breath he was then set upon by two witches – complete with talons – finally free from all pursuers, he sat at the back of the audience and ate an apple. I am not sure if that last bit was part of the show or just the poor lad having a rest ?
So that is how my day is panning out, I can not wait to see what they have in store for this afternoon!
Monday, April 12, 2004
Easter Sunday
Sunday the 11th of April 2004
Easter Sunday.
Of course, Cambodia being a Buddest you would have no idea that today was Easter Sunday. The only reason that I remembered was due to the text messages and Emails I received from back home.
So it was just a typical lazy Sunday morning in Phnom Penh.
Having been awoken early by all the text messages from the UK, I was sat on my balcony an hour after sunrise watching the early morning haze dissipate, along with the remainder of my Saturday night hangover.
A cool breeze from the west and a strong cup of espresso making me feel almost human in the morning heat.
Feeling much more awake, I jump on my motorbike and head towards one of the better internet cafes in the city – being in no particular rush, and taking advantage of the lack of traffic on this Sunny Sunday morning, I take a scenic drive along the riverfront towards my destination, weaving in and out of the usual insanity that is Cambodian traffic, while being able to keep half an eye on all the temporary building and marquees that are being erected along the riverside in preparation of the Khmer New Year, which is this coming Wednesday – it looks like there will be one hell of a party kicking off come midweek, which is slightly at odds with what I have been told about New Year - chnam t’mey – in Cambodia. Everyone keeps telling me that it is a quiet celebration usually held at home with ones family. But as very few rules seem to apply here maybe that is not the case, or maybe things are just different here in the Capitol ?
Regardless of the coming events, I all to soon reach my destination, where I sit in peace and quiet for an hour (not to mention air conditioning) reading new Emails and trying to catch up with some replies – not having readily accessible Email at work has slowed me down somewhat of late – hence a lot of these ‘all and sundry’ Emails to you all in one hit.
Well, that hour soon enough passes and I decide that it is time for a spot of brunch. About 10 yards away from the café is what claims to be an English Pub called ‘The Rising Sun’ having not been there before, and having heard a few good reports about the food there, I wander across the road with my bike and take a seat.
As I sit down, the security guard on duty outside the establishment – every bar and restaurant in Phnom Penh has one – takes one look at the huge beast of a bike that I ride and rushes over to sit next to it while I am in the bar, menacingly eyeballing anyone whom comes within a ten yards of it !
Feeling in need of a little reminder of home on this Easter Sunday, I opt for the full English breakfast with brown toast coffee and freshly squeezed orange juice.
During the obligatory half an hour wait I purchase a newspaper from one of the many street children that make a living along the riverfront by selling English language newspapers to us ex-pats, tourists or just the plain bored.
The boy I bought the paper from is one I have seen several times along here and he recognises me. He looks slightly bemused as I try and tell him in my broken K’mai that I have already read the Bangkok Post, but I would like to buy a Phnom Penh Post – he just laughs at me murdering his language, relieves me of a US Dollar and wanders off shaking his head. - I need to find a language teacher soon!
So my breakfast eventually turns up, and it is surprisingly good, apart from the huge suspicious looking sausage I could have been back in my favourite greasy spoon in Hanwell – actually the dodgy looking sausage is exactly like being back in a Hanwell café !
So with half of my lazy Sunday over already, I realise that I need to do a little shopping and some boring domestic stuff to get me ready for another week back in the office; drop some shirts off at the launderette, haggle in the New Market - P’saa T’mey - for some fruit and noodles and fill the bike up with petrol – all the usual things!
So, I hope that you all had a good Easter Day and that is Email finds you all well.
Regards
Darren
Easter Sunday.
Of course, Cambodia being a Buddest you would have no idea that today was Easter Sunday. The only reason that I remembered was due to the text messages and Emails I received from back home.
So it was just a typical lazy Sunday morning in Phnom Penh.
Having been awoken early by all the text messages from the UK, I was sat on my balcony an hour after sunrise watching the early morning haze dissipate, along with the remainder of my Saturday night hangover.
A cool breeze from the west and a strong cup of espresso making me feel almost human in the morning heat.
Feeling much more awake, I jump on my motorbike and head towards one of the better internet cafes in the city – being in no particular rush, and taking advantage of the lack of traffic on this Sunny Sunday morning, I take a scenic drive along the riverfront towards my destination, weaving in and out of the usual insanity that is Cambodian traffic, while being able to keep half an eye on all the temporary building and marquees that are being erected along the riverside in preparation of the Khmer New Year, which is this coming Wednesday – it looks like there will be one hell of a party kicking off come midweek, which is slightly at odds with what I have been told about New Year - chnam t’mey – in Cambodia. Everyone keeps telling me that it is a quiet celebration usually held at home with ones family. But as very few rules seem to apply here maybe that is not the case, or maybe things are just different here in the Capitol ?
Regardless of the coming events, I all to soon reach my destination, where I sit in peace and quiet for an hour (not to mention air conditioning) reading new Emails and trying to catch up with some replies – not having readily accessible Email at work has slowed me down somewhat of late – hence a lot of these ‘all and sundry’ Emails to you all in one hit.
Well, that hour soon enough passes and I decide that it is time for a spot of brunch. About 10 yards away from the café is what claims to be an English Pub called ‘The Rising Sun’ having not been there before, and having heard a few good reports about the food there, I wander across the road with my bike and take a seat.
As I sit down, the security guard on duty outside the establishment – every bar and restaurant in Phnom Penh has one – takes one look at the huge beast of a bike that I ride and rushes over to sit next to it while I am in the bar, menacingly eyeballing anyone whom comes within a ten yards of it !
Feeling in need of a little reminder of home on this Easter Sunday, I opt for the full English breakfast with brown toast coffee and freshly squeezed orange juice.
During the obligatory half an hour wait I purchase a newspaper from one of the many street children that make a living along the riverfront by selling English language newspapers to us ex-pats, tourists or just the plain bored.
The boy I bought the paper from is one I have seen several times along here and he recognises me. He looks slightly bemused as I try and tell him in my broken K’mai that I have already read the Bangkok Post, but I would like to buy a Phnom Penh Post – he just laughs at me murdering his language, relieves me of a US Dollar and wanders off shaking his head. - I need to find a language teacher soon!
So my breakfast eventually turns up, and it is surprisingly good, apart from the huge suspicious looking sausage I could have been back in my favourite greasy spoon in Hanwell – actually the dodgy looking sausage is exactly like being back in a Hanwell café !
So with half of my lazy Sunday over already, I realise that I need to do a little shopping and some boring domestic stuff to get me ready for another week back in the office; drop some shirts off at the launderette, haggle in the New Market - P’saa T’mey - for some fruit and noodles and fill the bike up with petrol – all the usual things!
So, I hope that you all had a good Easter Day and that is Email finds you all well.
Regards
Darren
Tuesday, April 06, 2004
First day of work !
Tuesday 6th of April
Well, I survived my first day at work!
I must have shaken hands with nearly 50 people and been introduced to even more. There is no why I am going to remember all of their names for a very, very, long time.
I have enough trouble remembering names that I can pronounce...
Having said that, the office is virtually dead today, most people are off at some highly important meeting between highly important people - and that is about as much information as I can get from the few that are left in the office, there English being about as good as my K’mai !
Last night Lorna, Nikki and I all went out for dinner. As Nikki is off to the far, far reaches of Stung Treng Province first thing today, it will take her 2 days to get there!
Peter and Margaret are back in Bangkok as Margaret was supposed to have the fixed sling removed from her broken shoulder yesterday, but it is not healing as quickly as they would like (well she is 61!) so she has to keep it on for another 4 weeks – that will be 10 weeks in total she has had it on and been out of commission – they are staying in Bangkok a few more days now while they think about going back home to the UK.
All of which means, my little gang is scattered all over the place. It is a slightly odd feeling, we have all lived in each other pockets for the last 8 weeks and now suddenly here I am pretty much on my own !
Having said that, it is nice to be in my own apartment, to have my own transport, to have control over the little things in my life – e.g. what to eat, when to eat, watching the news in my underwear, those sort of things.
The staff in the office presented me with a present this morning when I came in – I have not opened it yet as Cambodian custom dictates presents are opened in private, not in front of the giver - see 7 weeks of In Country Training have not been wasted :-)
My main task here at work today is to translate a report from English to English!?!
This is the report from the week we spent out in the field last month. It was written by the Project Manager; unfortunately English is his 3rd language and some of the grammar, typos and general mistakes are quite painful. Especially as this report is being sent to DFID along with a request for continued funding for this particular project. Am considering gnawing off my own fingers to avoid typing for a while.
Speaking of food, I should mention my cockroach eating experience.
They are considered quite the delicacy here in Cambodia. Deep fried and salted. They taste a little like dry roasted peanuts. However, I do not think that I will be rushing back to try that particular culinary experience anytime soon !
Well, I survived my first day at work!
I must have shaken hands with nearly 50 people and been introduced to even more. There is no why I am going to remember all of their names for a very, very, long time.
I have enough trouble remembering names that I can pronounce...
Having said that, the office is virtually dead today, most people are off at some highly important meeting between highly important people - and that is about as much information as I can get from the few that are left in the office, there English being about as good as my K’mai !
Last night Lorna, Nikki and I all went out for dinner. As Nikki is off to the far, far reaches of Stung Treng Province first thing today, it will take her 2 days to get there!
Peter and Margaret are back in Bangkok as Margaret was supposed to have the fixed sling removed from her broken shoulder yesterday, but it is not healing as quickly as they would like (well she is 61!) so she has to keep it on for another 4 weeks – that will be 10 weeks in total she has had it on and been out of commission – they are staying in Bangkok a few more days now while they think about going back home to the UK.
All of which means, my little gang is scattered all over the place. It is a slightly odd feeling, we have all lived in each other pockets for the last 8 weeks and now suddenly here I am pretty much on my own !
Having said that, it is nice to be in my own apartment, to have my own transport, to have control over the little things in my life – e.g. what to eat, when to eat, watching the news in my underwear, those sort of things.
The staff in the office presented me with a present this morning when I came in – I have not opened it yet as Cambodian custom dictates presents are opened in private, not in front of the giver - see 7 weeks of In Country Training have not been wasted :-)
My main task here at work today is to translate a report from English to English!?!
This is the report from the week we spent out in the field last month. It was written by the Project Manager; unfortunately English is his 3rd language and some of the grammar, typos and general mistakes are quite painful. Especially as this report is being sent to DFID along with a request for continued funding for this particular project. Am considering gnawing off my own fingers to avoid typing for a while.
Speaking of food, I should mention my cockroach eating experience.
They are considered quite the delicacy here in Cambodia. Deep fried and salted. They taste a little like dry roasted peanuts. However, I do not think that I will be rushing back to try that particular culinary experience anytime soon !
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