OznAsia

I'm back in Phnom Penh, back to the dentist. My appointment is 10.00 am but thanks to running on Malaysian time I'm there at 9.00 am. He often has no one at this time, I might get in anyway. Besides I brought my book with me, didn't I?

Well, he already had a patient and when I checked my bag I didn't have my book after all so I headed around the corner to where there is usually a young woman selling English-language newspapers outside Lucky Supermarket. The vendor is there and also a middle-aged woman with two small kids, begging.

'How much is Cambodia Daily,' I ask.

'1,500 reil.'

'But on the cover it says "1,200",' I point out.

'Yes, 300 for me.' She can't be more upfront than that, can she? I know that when she sells the Phnom Penh Post she charges the cover price. I guess whoever she gets the Dailies from doesn't allow her a margin. And 300 reil is less than 10 cents. I give her the money.

All the time this transaction is taking place there is a two-year-old kid at my ankles with his hand out asking for money. Without paying him much attention I interrupt my purchasing a couple of times to say 'no'. When I have my paper in my hand, he's still there with his hand out. I look him in the eyes, 'Ot tay.'

He obviously understands Khmer because now he backs off. The mother/aunt/grandmother smiles at me with betel-stained teeth.

Labels: Asia, Cambodia, children, kids, Phnom Penh, poverty

When I think about the issues in Phnom Penh that make it difficult for anyone to get around I am aware that there is a lack of transport infrastructure. Phnom Penh is a city of 2,000,000 people but it has no co-ordinated public transport system that I am aware of. I have a dream that before they start building too many tall buildings, which is happening, they could put in an underground rail network. This would provide regular meaningful work for so many people but somehow I just don't see it happening.

At the moment I am in Pakse, a Lao city much smaller than Phnom Penh and what I see in Pakse are sorngtheaus. It hit me. This is the answer for Phnom Penh. The word sorngtheau means 'two rows'. Basically a sorngtheau is a pick-up truck with a roof over the back and two rows of seats. In a town like Mahasarakham I can travel from one end of town to the other on a sorngtheau for eight baht. Every medium-sized Thai town has a system of sorngtheaus which gets people around the town quickly and cheaply.

Surely the investment in such a system is not huge. I am aware that Phnom Penh is looking more prosperous than it was eighteen months ago. Previously, new cars were relatively rare. Now there are many. The last guesthouse I stayed in in Phnom Penh this visit is owned and operated by a man who has been living in Australia for about twenty years. He returned to Phnom Penh a relatively rich man. There must be many such people, Cambodians who have migrated to Western countries and been successful. They can now return to Cambodia and create a new middle class.

Perhaps such a person would be able to invest in Phnom Penh's new sorngtheau transport system. Hopefully the government would see the value of this and give support to such a person.

Labels: Asia, Cambodia, Phnom Penh, transport

Originally I thought I would have to go to the Laos embassy in Phnom Penh for my visa. At most land crossings into Laos it is possible to get a 30-day tourist visa on entry. The route I was taking, from Phnom Penh to Vientiane via Pakse did not, until recently, have a visa facility at the border. Online reports suggested this may have changed but it was not certain. I had advice from two people that it was definitely possible, so I decided against making the trip to the embassy—actually it would have been two trips on a moto. This option seems to be much better.

The distance between the two capitals is apparently less than 800 kilometres. My first thought was that it should take about 12 hours. That wasn't really smart on my part because I have a lot of experience with Cambodian roads. I should have known better. Perhaps it was wishful thinking.

There is a bus that leaves from Sorya bus depot every morning at 6.45 am. It costs US$45 to go to Vientiane and $27 to Pakse. When I checked the arrival time with the ticket seller, she told me 24 hours. 24 hours! How could that be!? I simply did not want to believe it. And that would mean staying overnight on a bus. I've only ever once done an overnight bus trip. It was horrible. I didn't want to do it again.

Eventually I decided on a ticket to Pakse. That is a 12-hour trip. I figured I'd get off in Pakse stay overnight and then get a day bus the rest of the way the next day. So, yesterday morning I set off. Sorya bus station is only a few blocks from my guesthouse in Phnom Penh but I'm carrying far too much at the moment so I relented and took a tuk-tuk. I didn't want to do my back in before I started.

When I got on the bus I was pleasantly surprised. The seats were quite wide and comfortable. I was in the second row. The front row was raised as it was above the driver. This meant that the view to the front was obscured to me as would oncoming headlights be. And somehow the arrangement gave my seat lots of leg room. I was pretty content and even started thinking that maybe I could cope with overnight on this bus.

Most of the seats were empty including the one next to me. I even had space to spread out. However, along the way the bus stopped and picked up passengers and also dropped them off. I had the company of a pleasant young Belgian lady for a few hours but for the rest of the journey the seat was empty.
I sat back and watched the view, taking the occasional picture. We crossed lots of rivers and passed through many flooded fields. We also passed through towns and villages and rice fields. I really enjoy the Cambodian countryside. Just before 4.00 pm we reached the border.

Cleared the Cambodian immigration, no problem. Paid the $1 fee that these guys charge for doing their job. They were most obliging and even accepted it in reil. Walked the 100 metre no mans land in the hot sun. Filled out a form to state I didn't have any flu symptoms and presented my fee and papers for the Laos visa (including the extra fee here also). The hardest part was that I had to stand on a west-facing verandah in the hot sun and it takes about ten minutes. I was lucky, I got in first. The dawdlers had to wait while everyone else was processed. Altogether it took about an hour.

I see there are buildings under construction. I trust this rather primitive system is only a temporary one.

We had a couple more hours of driving on Laos roads which are much better than on the Cambodian side of the border. I'd also say that on average the Laos housing was slightly better than Cambodian. There seemed to be fewer vehicles on the road. There weren't so many rice fields and there was a lot more bush.

I had still been thinking about staying on this bus but I noticed that on the Laos side of the border the driver beeped his horn much more. Are Laos drivers more dreamy? They seem to be. Also the conductor told me that it was a different bus from Pakse on. That convinced me that I wanted to get off at Pakse.

Eventually we reached Pakse and I discovered that the onward bus was a 'sleeping bus'. It had proper bunks rather than reclining seats. But I grabbed a moto with a sidecar and headed for my guesthouse. I'd got a couple of names from the travelfish site. I rejected the Narin Thachalern Hotel. The fan room did not have any window or ventilation. When I lay on the bed I could feel the springs sticking into me. No thank you. I ended up at Sedone River Guesthouse. It is very basic but has a firm bed that suits me and after Phnom Penh, it is incredibly quiet. : )

I decided to stay a second night because I didn't want to be rushing in the morning to find a bus. After I paid for the second night I asked about buses to Vientiane. There is very little choice. There are two bus companies and both offer only sleeping buses that travel at night. There are no day buses. I have to wait until Thursday evening and will still have to endure a night on a bus.

Labels: Asia, Cambodia, Laos, Phnom Penh, travel

If you take my advice and come to visit Cambodia and you ignore my advice and spend time in Phnom Penh then I would like to suggest an art gallery for you to visit. Most art galleries have hand produced copies of copies of copies of rural and Angkor scenes. What you see in one is almost the same as the next. Over the years I've spent a lot of time in Phnom Penh and so far I have only noticed one art gallery displaying original work. The work still draws on Khmer traditions but they are interpreted creatively. The gallery is situated diagonally across from the entrance to the National Museum (also worth a visit). It's called Asasax Art Gallery. I trust you will enjoy it.

Labels: art, Asia, Asian, Cambodia, Phnom Penh, travel

I found my dentist. His surgery is in another part of town but still walkable from International Guest House. I had my first appointment with him on Monday morning. I need to return for root-canal treatment twice a week for about three weeks. He'll be working on the tooth next to the one that the dentist in Mahasarakham treated and crowning them both.

After my Monday morning appointment I took the bus to Kompong Chhnang. The KC bus service no longer operates. If you want to get a bus to KC now, you have to take one of the buses that goes to the towns beyond Kompong Chhnang. The Soriya Bus Service has made a few other changes too. I always wondered if the bus service made money. The bus was staffed by a driver and a conductor. Most people got on the bus at Phnom Penh (on the outward journey anyway) and paid at the bus station. So the conductor's main duty was to check your ticket as you got on the bus. They usually picked up one or two passengers along the 90 kilometre journey. But the conductor was hardly run off her feet.

In Thailand they have a similar system but the conductors who dress up like flight attendants serve you refreshments, such as they are. Even then I think they're superfluous.

I always wondered if Soriya trust their staff because once or twice along the way an inspector would get on to check the tickets. So there were a lot of people employed on those buses.

But this has all changed. We no longer have the little school-bus sized vehicle on the KC run. We get a real bus with comfortable full-size seats. I bought my ticket at the counter in Phnom Penh and showed it to the conductor who left the bus before it left the terminus. There were no ticket inspections. I had a comfortable ride and arrived in KC just before a mother of a storm hit.

I headed for Holiday Guesthouse but it's not there anymore. Never mind, they still have rooms and are happy to accommodate an old friend.

I've been enjoying the smiles of my friends for a couple of days and today returned to PP so I can make my 9 am appointment tomorrow with Dr Chum. The first bus that came along this morning was a GST Express. I waved, it stopped so I got on. It did have a conductor who showed me my seat and then disappeared for five minutes. When he returned he gave me a crumpled ticket and asked for $3. That's 50 cents more than Soriya charged to get me there.

Somehow I thought the ticket looked a bit sus. I was hoping an inspector would not come on board or one of us would have some explaining to do. When I got to PP I checked the ticket. It was dated 23 August. (Today is August 25.)

Labels: Asia, Cambodia, Kompong Chhnang, Phnom Penh, travel

I arrived in town late on Friday afternoon. At the airport I was besieged by tuk-tuk drivers offering to take me to town for $7. (US dollars are semi-legal tender in Cambodia.) I said, no that was too expensive and they quickly pointed out that car taxis charge $9. I said last time I was here I travelled by motorcycle and paid $2. They pointed out how difficult it would be with my bags on a motorcycle. But I've done it before. It can be done. Then a motorcycle driver who looked like he was blind in one eye turned up. He offered to take me. "How much?' I asked. '$5.' 'No way. I paid $2 last time.' Eventually I got him down to $3.50, so off we went. I'm sure if I'd actually walked out into the street outside the airport I could have found one to take me for less. But the one-eyed driver seemed a nice sort of guy so I went with him. He even knew where International Guest House was and while he tried to talk me into accommodation where he might get a commission, he was happy to take me there.

I first visited Phnom Penh early in 2005. At that time I remember one of my challenges was the fact that many of the motorcycle-taxi drivers knew the city hardly better than I did. Since then, whenever possible in Phnom Penh I walk where I can.

During this visit to PP I have several agendas. I want to visit a dentist who worked on my teeth a few years ago. I want to catch up with my friend, Vana, who is now working and living in Phnom Penh. On the plane from Australia I sat next to a young woman named Erika who was heading to Cambodia to do volunteer work on a similar basis to what I do. We agreed to try to catch up. And I needed to go to the Australian embassy to vote. To communicate with all these people I also needed to get a Cambodian SIM for my phone. I needed Vana's help for that. You need citizenship ID to get the SIM. I got my last one in his name.

Before I left Australia I emailed the Australian Embassy and asked if they would be open for voting. I got a quick response saying they would. I borrowed a phone from the reception guy at the guesthouse on Friday evening, called Erika and arranged to meet her at the Oz embassy at 10 am. I left the guesthouse at 9 am. This allowed me plenty of time to visit the dental surgery and walk to the embassy. I knew where it was. I'd been there before.

At the dental surgery they told me the dentist was now working elsewhere. They checked the number I had and said yes that would find him. OK, off to the embassy.

When I reached the corner of the street where I expected the embassy to be I asked someone for confirmation to make sure I had the right street. He said that the embassy had moved but he couldn't tell me where. I went on anyway. He had to be right because it certainly wasn't where I expected it to be.

On a corner there were two motorcycle drivers and a tuk-tuk driver. They offered to take me somewhere just as every other motorcycle and tuk-tuk driver had done on every corner I had passed. I asked if they knew where the Australian embassy was. One guy was very confident. He searched my map for about two minutes and then pointed to a mark on the map where it clearly said US embassy—and this was in the other end of town. One insisted that it was further along roughly in the direction I had been heading and the third vaguely described how to get to where it was before. Despite their inability to convince me they knew where it was now located each of them thought I should still go with them. I decided to continue walking but in the direction that seemed the most probable.

At the next corner another tuk-tuk driver asked if he could take me somewhere. I asked if he knew where the Australian embassy was. He described the direction that I thought had the most potential which suggested I was heading the right way. I was concerned because I was supposed to be meeting Erika. I didn't want to be late. I was prepared to get this guy to take me so I asked the fare. '$3'. He quoted. "No way.' I said.

To put this into context, you need to understand that the average income in Cambodia is about $50 a month. So, if he was quoting this fare to a Cambodian how many fares do you think he would get? Obviously this is a special price for foreigners. And having been raised in a country where all taxis have meters and therefore everyone, no matter who they are, pays the same fare. I find this attitude unfair. (No pun intended.)

He dropped his price to $1.50. I said 'no'. He asked what I'd pay. I said '2,000 reil' ie 50 cents. He rode off.

I simply kept walking in the direction I believed the embassy to be; stopped here and there to ask directions; spoke gruffly to any tuk-tuk or motorcycle driver who dared to approach me and eventually found the embassy at 10.30 am. There was no sign of Erika. When I signed in I checked the list of previous visitors and Erika's name wasn't there. I did my democratic duty, went outside and waited until a little after 11 am. Still no sign of Erika.

I walked back home dodging the motorcycles and tuk-tuks as much as possible, had some lunch and during the afternoon went to the National Museum where I was to meet Vana. He was almost an hour late which meant I sat in the shade on the opposite corner and I noticed the motorcycle and tuk-tuk drivers. Most of them never moved. It became obvious, if it wasn't already, that there were far too many of these guys so that very few of them can make any sort of living out of it. They sit around all day doing nothing, thinking they have a job but complaining how little money they make.

Compared to my first visit in 2005 the number of tuk-tuks has increased greatly. There are probably more motorcycles too but proportionally, the tuk-tuks have increased far more. My guesstimate is that there has to be about 10,000 tuk-tuk drivers in town—maybe more than there are in Bangkok, a much bigger city. There must be far fewer tourists than tuk-tuks. I certainly don't see as many Westerners as I do tuk-tuk drivers. Most have a spot where they sit all day and return to if they are lucky enough to get a fare. I guess they pay someone for this right. Whether such a payment is official or not I don't know. This being Cambodia I suspect it's not. Those who don't have such a spot cruise.

The cruisers can be more persistent. They come along beside you as you walk, engaging you in conversation. One guy was quite good. He saw me going to a statue to take photos and waited where I had to pass coming back. He started chatting and was a good conversationist, drawing me out. In fact, I dumped a lot of my feelings about his profession on him. He didn't disagree but during the conversation pointed out, as they often do, the costs and other challenges involved in running this business.

I can sympathise but the reality is they have got themselves into a business that simply can't make money. There is far too much competition. In most of the world of business competition means lower prices but not in Cambodia. The way they figure it is that because they can't get so much business they have to charge more to get the same income. Elsewhere they would go out of business but somehow they hang in there and it is simply a crazy situation. If other travellers feel the same as me they are actually having a negative impact on tourism. I don't recommend anyone visit Phnom Penh unless they are prepared to put up with constant harassment from these guys. Come to Cambodia by all means but go elsewhere.

I want to end this on a positive note. I love Cambodia. The Cambodian people are the friendliest I've met anywhere. They are so generous with their smiles it is a delight to be among them. Please come to Cambodia and enjoy your stay anywhere outside of Phnom Penh.

Labels: Asia, Cambodia, dentist, Phnom Penh, tolerance, travel

When I was a kid if I needed dental treatment my mother took me to the dental hospital at South Brisbane. Some of my friends went to private dentists. But my family could not afford that. At the hospital you did not get to choose your dentist. Some were good with kids. Some should have been banned from working with kids. I remember when water drills came in. They were so much easier to handle than the old mechanical ones we used to be subjected to. I also remember one cranky old dentist threatening that he would use the mechanical drill if I couldn't keep my mouth open wider. As a kid all of my fillings were done without an injection.

At the age of 18 I went to live in Sydney. When I needed dental treatment I discovered Dr C. He was wonderful. I know it is not common to hear people say they think their dentist is wonderful but compared to what I grew up with I found him to be a kind and gentle man. He would take time to explain what was needed and give me choices about how that was done. He seemed to be impressed that I didn't need an injection for a normal filling. I remember one time he got his nurse (he always had cute nurses) to take a look at how much drilling he'd done without an injection. I had tried injections and I decided I preferred the short-term pain of the drill that stopped as soon as he stopped drilling to the longer-term discomfort and numbness created by the injection.

When I moved away from Sydney I tried other dentists. None of them came up to Dr C. One refused to accept my decision to not have an injection and immediately injected me without waiting for me to disagree. I never returned to him. Nor did I return to others I tried for one reason or another. When I was living in Brisbane I had to go to an annual conference in the Sydney area. I would usually arrange to go a week early so I could visit Dr C for a check up and any work needed. Eventually he said I didn't need to keep coming as at the stage I had reached my teeth should stay good for some time.

When I decided to retire and move to Asia over six years ago, I had one or two little problems with my teeth. I decided to visit Dr C and get them fixed before I did. I didn't know if he'd still be practising but he was. By this time he was about 70 years old. I expressed surprise that he was still practising. He said he had fewer patients these days and it suited him. He'd slowed down rather than retiring. 'And what would I do if I retired?' he asked. I could think of a thousand things but obviously he is happy with dentistry.

He refilled one tooth for me and recommended I get a crown on another. I had a choice of a post and crown or just a crown. He said the post should be better but there were no guarantees. As it turned out I did not have time for the post before my flight to Asia so I settled for the crown.

It didn't last. It fell victim to some sticky rice in Thailand. I didn't do anything about it at the time. I was still able to chew and I found I had less trouble with food becoming trapped. Some time later, when I was living in Cambodia a filling came out. This one was causing some problems so I decided to have it fixed. You can read the story here.

I got the same dentist to replace the missing crown too. I was wary at the time about getting such work done in Cambodia but that was September '06 and I'm happy to say that it is still there and in that time it has been responsible for assisting in the chewing of many kilos of sticky rice.

Having had such success in Cambodia I was not concerned about finding a good dentist in Mahasarakham. The dentist I was referred to was recommended by several people. His practice is clean and appears to be professional. I assume you've already read my previous two posts. Now I'll carry on from where I left off.

Since the first root-canal treatment the tooth stopped hurting and has given me very little trouble. Last Sunday I made my final visit to the lady dentist in Khon Kaen. (Lots of Khon Kaen pics now on my flickr page.) She gave me the final treatment which lasted about an hour and was done without an injection. But I still had to return to my dentist in Mahasarakham to get the crown added. I got someone to ring and make an appointment for me. It can be a little frustrating communicating via someone else who may not understand fully what you want. I usually make an appointment for 6 pm and don't often wait too long. She made the appointment for 5 pm. I made it there by 5.20 knowing that there was no way I'd go in straight off at 5. I waited until 6.40 before I finally got into the dentist chair. I thought they'd forgotten me. Before I left to head into town I noticed that if I bit down on the problem tooth there was a slight twinge there. I tested this a few times on my way to the dentist and sometimes it twinged and sometimes it didn't. I mentioned this to him when I got into the chair. He just said 'Hmmm.' After he removed the temporary crown he stuck his drill into my mouth. I guess he was polishing the tooth but whatever he was doing it was quite painful. 'Relax. Relax.' he said. 'I can't,' I answered. 'It's hurting.' He said it shouldn't be hurting as there was no nerve left in the tooth. I understood that but I know pain when I feel it. And it was painful. So, he put another temporary crown on it and told me to come back in two weeks. I'm not impressed. I wanted to be over it. I've had enough of this. I want to be able to eat whatever I feel like instead of having to eat omelettes and curries all the time. I want to eat sticky rice again. But it seems I have to wait another two weeks—at least. It has been sore to bite on since then but today, not quite so bad. Let's hope it gets better this time.

Labels: Asia, dentist, health, Mahasarakham, pain, Phnom Penh, thailand, tolerance

'...at the bottom of the cliff there was another pile of garbage. And we decided that one big pile is better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one up we decided to throw ours down.'

from Alice's Restaurant by Arlo Guthrie
©1966, 1967 (Renewed) by Appleseed Music Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Fly-tipping is an English expression that, to my knowledge, has not yet reached Australia. Wikipedia defines it as: '...illegally dumping waste somewhere other than an authorized landfill. It is the illegal deposit of any waste onto land, i.e., waste dumped or tipped on a site with no licence to accept waste.'

I first heard the expression when a photo on one of my flickr pages (see link on sidebar) was invited to be placed in a group for photos of fly-tipping. Returning to Cambodia, I felt the streets of Phnom Penh were a wonderful resource for photos for the group. I took a few shots and offered them to the group. A group administrator replied: 'This is not exactly flytipping. This is a market. This kind of rubbish is regularly collected and it is piled up in that agreed expectation. Yes it looks untidy but there's a civil contract here between those who pile up the rubbish and those who collect it. Not flytippng! '

I would like to clarify the situation regarding litter in Cambodia as I see it. I'm not sure what the legal situation is but if there are laws against littering or the dumping of rubbish they do not appear to be enforced. It seems to me that in the minds of most Cambodians, any public place is a suitable place to dispose of one's waste. Bins are a rarity. Who needs them? The street is the appropriate place to drop your rubbish. Don't carry it anywhere. Leave it right where you are.

This is not a market area. This is a tourist area. This is what the streets of Phnom Penh look like. Someone starts the pile and others add to it. I took the photo in the early afternoon. The pile will probably continue to grow until it's collected, perhaps during the night.

When I first visited Phnom Penh I thought that no one ever swept the footpaths. I was wrong. One morning I had reason to walk the streets early in the morning and saw many storekeepers sweeping in front of their shops. It didn't make a lot of difference. Within a few hours the paths were as littered as they were the day before.

In Kompong Chhnang it is no different. When I first visited I soon made a few friends. I had bought some food that came in a wrapper. After I'd been carrying the wrapper for a few blocks looking for a bin, one of my friends took it from me and dropped it on the ground. Another group of friends took me climbing a local mountain and they packed lunch. All the wrappings were left behind on the mountain.

Yes, there is some sort of garbage collection from the streets of Phnom Penh and from the market area of Kompong Chhnang but I never see either place looking particularly clean or tidy. There is no home garbage collection here in Kompong Chhnang. People either bury or burn it, or dump it in the street.

I try to dispose of my waste responsibly. It does take a little effort and care. Organic matter I bury in an area I've designated as a future garden. I had considered making a compost bin but figured it would take too long for me to fill it by myself. I also have a dog that eats some of my food scraps. The future garden is below my side verandah and convenient for disposal of water from washing so anything I plant should grow. Any plastic materials that can be recycled I leave outside my gate. There are scavengers who collect it to sell. It doesn't stay for long. Other plastics, such as bags, I bury which I assume is more environmentally friendly than burning. Please tell me if I'm wrong. As much as possible I try to reuse bags and discourage the market vendors from giving me fresh ones. When shopping I try not to buy goods with excessive packaging but even in Cambodia that is difficult.

When I talk to people about littering they ask why it matters. I point out that rubbish heaps encourage rodents and cockroaches that spread diseases. However, I must say that I see more cockroaches in homes in Brisbane than in Cambodia despite Brisbane's cleanliness and pesticide use.

Will the situation ever change? I really don't know. I try not to lecture people too much preferring to practise 'be the change you want to see'.

Labels: appearance, Asia, Cambodia, Kompong Chhnang, Phnom Penh, photography

A few days ago I needed to go to Phnom Penh. When I was last at the bus station I checked on the times the buses were scheduled to leave. Even though I knew they didn't leave exactly to schedule I figured it would give me a chance of catching one without waiting too long.

I chose to take the 7.45 am bus. My guesthouse is on the highway only a few minutes drive from the bus station so I went outside to wait at 7.45. At 8.00 am, someone gave me a chair to sit on. At about 8.40 a friend came along in his car. My friend is moderately wealthy. His car is a 15+ year old Camry. To own such a car as this in Cambodia indicates some level of wealth. He needed to go to Phnom Penh for a job interview and told me he would be glad to have some company for the journey. We left at about 8.45 and the bus still hadn't shown.

My friend was applying for a well-paid (by Cambodian standards) job as an interpreter with a local NGO. He'd been through the initial interviews, had passed the medical and now had to meet the CEO who happens to be an Australian. Get through this one and he was in.

We chatted as we headed along the highway. As I looked over to him I noticed that he had put on a good clean shirt, had on his best shoes, but his trousers, they were a fairly casual style and looked like they needed to be put into the washing machine. Yes, unlike most Cambodians my friend does have a washing machine. It is very old and barely works but he has one. He should have used it on these trousers. I was amazed. How did he expect to impress the CEO wearing these pants? I thought about saying something but decided that all that would do was make him feel uneasy.

When he dropped me off we arranged that I would call him when I was ready to return, to see just where he was. It was a little after 3 pm when I called. 'Where are you?' I asked.

'I'm in Kompong Chhnang. They want me to come back to Phnom Penh so I can start tomorrow.'

WOW! He got the job despite his trousers. Or perhaps in Cambodia it is just not important. Good luck to him.

Labels: appearance, Asia, Cambodia, Kompong Chhnang, Phnom Penh

I had hoped to return to my previous home in Kompong Chhnang and the life I had in Cambodia last year. Discovered a few days before I arrived that an international organisation had approached the landlord and offered to rent the house for three years. It's been empty since I left a year ago. He took the better offer and I don't blame him.

At first I was disappointed but then I saw it as an opportunity to stay in Phnom Penh and study Khmer. Besides, my friend, Vana, is now living in Phnom Penh and that would give me someone who speaks the language to help with any problems.

We decided to make a day trip to Kompong Chhnang the day after I arrived. No one else knew I was coming. Vana and I reached the Sorya bus station in Phnom Penh at 9.45 am. It was more crowded than usual as there had been a holiday for the P'chum Ben Festival. The ticket office told us that the next bus to Kompong Chhnang was at 10.30. We bought our tickets and went to get some breakfast. Arrived back at the bus station at 10.15 am. Waited until 11.30 when Vana discovered that the bus was at the service station on the other side of the road. I don't know if he asked or heard an announcement but there was no information given in English. There never is. We went across and there was the usual situation that I compare to if you had put a bunch of bananas in the bus and a mob of monkeys were all trying to be the first to get in. In Cambodia, no one wants to be last on the bus.
Despite all this rush there were plenty of seats. But I discovered the system has changed. In the past, I usually sat in the middle of the back row because then I could stretch my legs into the aisle. There is insufficient room for westerners' legs in most seats. Now they have scrawled numbers on the ceiling with a marker and the seat numbers are allocated on the ticket. The conductor insisted we sit in the allocated seats. I was whinging and carrying on. I do this in English and very few people have a clue what I am saying but it gets it off my chest. Perhaps the conductor did understand. After a few minutes he decided that as the back row was empty and Cambodians don't usually want to sit there we could move down the back.

I understand why they number the seats. The back row fits five. But sometimes I get on, the bus is full except in the back row there are three young guys occupying five spaces. They're sitting with knees so far apart you'd think they each had a pair of footballs between their legs. I have to bully them to get them to move enough for one skinny westerner to fit in. Most Cambodians wouldn't say anything, they just stand quietly and let the conductor do the bullying.

Anyway, that is not an issue today. There are ample seats. We leave for KC without calling in at the bus station. I probably would have missed the bus if I'd been on my own. But then if I'd been on my own I'd have checked way earlier and they probably would have sent a message to me somehow. I was well known by the ticket sellers at this bus station. I've waited a long time for buses in the past but I don't think I ever missed one.

A couple of hours later we get off in KC and walk down the street to Vana's family home. He has been storing some of my stuff and we sort through it a bit. He has some work to do too in relation to the job he is doing in PP. I borrow a bicycle and head for the market. We have not told anyone that I am coming. When I get to the Seinah & Seinee family stall their mother is outside. She calls out 'John!' before I'm even close enough to see them properly. I miss the opportunity to see the looks on the faces of the twins who are inside.

I sit with them and chat. After a while they need to get back to work. I wander off to see who else I can find. At Savern's stall, her mother is lying in a hammock, which is the usual way they wait for customers. She call's to Savern who is busy with a customer at the other end of the stall. The mother stays in the hammock holding my hand until Savern finishes with the customer. Then Savern comes and gives me a hug over the top of the mother. This is unusual here as physical affection is not usually shown in public in Asian countries, at least not between males and females.

I chat for a while with Savern. She has forgotten most of the English she knew so speaks mostly in Khmer which evolves into a Khmer lesson for me. This often happened when I was there before. She is a natural teacher. Vana's mother, who was also not aware that I was here, turns up. Then she spreads the word to a few relatives who have stalls a little further down. I spend some time with each of them. I try to buy a pair of sunglasses from one. They refuse to take my money. At that price, maybe I could buy a new pair of reading glasses too but they don't have the right strength. Vana turns up and we walk around the rest of the market together.

I take him to vendors who I know but he doesn't. I chat to them with my limited Khmer but this time we can communicate a little more than usual because Vana can translate. He is quite surprised at how warmly so many people are greeting me. After we've done the circuit he says, 'I know that Seinah, Seinie and Savern love you but I did not know that so many people all over the market love you.'

When we go back to his place we start packing stuff for me to take back to Phnom Penh but it is too late now to go back that day. We stay at his place the night. He keeps telling me that he can find a house for me if I want to stay in KC. He thinks this is where I belong because so many people want me to come and stay. In fact he has only seen part of it. I could take him to four monasteries in town where I would get a similar reception from many of the monks.

Me, I'm feeling confused. All this demonstration of affection is very appealing but on the other hand my communication with the majority of these people is limited by my lack of ability in Khmer language. I am thinking that learning Khmer is my priority and that I can probably do that best in PP.

That night Vana's parents give up their bed for me. I try to insist that I am happy to sleep on a mat on the floor but he insists 'You are my guest' and the parents sleep on a mat on the verandah.

When I wake the next morning I have a feeling that I should make plans to come back to stay in KC. I feel sure that I can find a teacher in town. We go for a walk and Vana shows me some accommodation that has been offered to me but it's not really suited to my preferred lifestyle.

Vana's brother is going to give him a ride back to PP on his motorcycle. First they take me to a guesthouse to check if there is a vacancy so I can stay there until a house turns up, then they drop me at the bus station. It's about 8.15 and the bus is due to leave at 9 o'clock. It seems the bus company has made some changes. In the past, several buses would stay overnight at KC and they would leave at roughly one hour intervals in the morning. But today there is no bus there. It arrives way past 9 am and by then there are many people waiting.

Last year they would leave with about six people on board. We go through the monkey boarding procedure again. I wait back. I choose to not be a monkey. And my karma must be good. Somehow the best seat on the bus is empty. This one is at the front just behind the entrance. There is no seat in front of it. I grab it. There are a few others who don't get proper seats. They sit on the spare wheel and on the engine covering.

As we head in towards PP, there is a lot of flooding across the road. It rained heavily the previous night. There are also a lot more passengers who board. The bus reaches a point where, in a western country, it would be considered full. As you can see from the picture above, it's not a very big bus. We stop and there are seven people waiting to get on. That's seven adults, there's also a baby and two of the adults are elderly. They also have several sacks. One looks like it's filled with charcoal, another perhaps rice. Somehow this is all fitted in. The old folks and the mother all sit on the sacks in the aisle. Everyone else squeezes further back.

I wondered what would happen if there was anyone else waiting. I'm not sure if this bus company puts passengers on the roof. It doesn't. From then on the driver signals 'no room' to other prospective passengers. It's midday before we finally reach PP.

I spent a few days deliberating over my decision to return to Kompong Chhnang. Somehow I wasn't sure it was right. But by Wednesday I was convinced it was so have now returned with all my stuff. I'm still in the guesthouse but have found a home. It's not ready yet so I'll write about it after I move in, perhaps in a week or two. I've also found a Khmer teacher close by and am having regular lessons. I'm happy with these arrangements. I feel I've made the right decision.

Labels: Asia, Cambodia, flood, Kompong Chhnang, Phnom Penh

Today I flew from Bangkok to Phnom Penh. Unfortunately I didn't have a window seat. I could see the flooded river below. Wow! There was more water below us than land. It is really amazing to see it from the sky having seen it so many times from ground level.

I would like to have got a photo but while I had my camera, unfortunately I didn't have a window seat. The guy who did, didn't appreciate it. He was too engrossed in his book. I wonder how many times he's seen it. Wouldn't make any difference to me. For nine months I made a weekly bus trip through this territory and I never tired of the ever-changing view.

Vana, a friend from Kompong Chhnang is now working in Phnom Penh. He is staying in a house in the suburbs with his boss who is a Frenchman. So, for the moment I am staying in that house.

Cambodia is delightfully undeveloped. Even in the capital, once you get off the main roads the streets are dirt with pools of water. Guess it'll be dusty when the rainy season is over. Here's the street where I'm staying. I'm in the last of that row of four houses. Pretty luxurious for Cambodia. It has running water but only cold, western style toilets, in fact each bedroom has a bathroom.

People here are delightfully friendly. We were travelling into town in a tuk-tuk similar to this one. As we overtook them I pointed my camera and just look at the smiles I got.

Tomorrow we are planning a day trip to Kompong Chhnang, the town where I was living last year. No one knows I'm coming so it will be fun to see the looks on the faces when they see me.

If you'd like to see some of the other photos I took on the way into town, just click the exotic transport link in the sidebar.

Labels: Asia, Cambodia, Phnom Penh