Some time ago one of the blog readers asked "what the footwear in Cambodia". That's a good question.
From my experience the mainstay is flip-flops or another plastic sandals (the more colorful the better). For poor children there are no shoes. Below are some examples.
I took my customary seat in the front row of the bus on the way to Phnom Penh this morning. Oh good, there is no one in the other seat, this will be comfortable. Once on the road, I tried to listen to my iPod. I could just coax the iPod to create enough sound to be louder than the radio speaker just a meter from my head.
The drive turned the bus down the street that leads out of town. About a kilometer further, he pulled over and opened the door. There was a moto outside with young woman who looked to be Cambodian on the back, carrying a large pink bag. She got off of the moto and the pink bag was put in the luggage compartment.
The young woman we had just picked up happened to be the person that had the seat next to me. When her mobile phone rang, she answered in very good English, telling someone that one of her students had taken her to the bus and she was safely on board. I asked what she teaches, and she replied "English". She told me she is Indian, from the northeast, where people look more Southeast Asian than elsewhere in the country. That explained a lot.
She has been teaching as a volunteered in Kampong Cham for the last year. When she told me that she was volunteering without any income for her efforts, I felt a little sheepish knowing that I am getting $343 a month. She told me it had been quite difficult living on infrequent donations.
Our conversation turned to how she is treated, since everyone assumes she's Cambodian. I said that as a white foreigner, I am usually shown to the head of the line. She told of a time at the doctor's office; when a Cambodian nurse prioritized several white expats into see the doctor ahead of her.
After a year of volunteering with no income, living on the gifts of others, she has arranged a teaching position in Phnom Penh and was moving to her new job in Phnom Penh.
Some weeks ago a friend wrote that she liked my blog. She said she felt like she was on the back of my moto with me. She is lucky she was not riding with me this evening.
I am going to Phnom Penh tomorrow and needed cash. I went to the bank, which is about one kilometer away. I arrived at the bank at 18:20 and the ATM was out of order until 18:30. I just sat there waiting. There was no need to go home and come back. I did a withdrawal to cover my trip and left.
I started up my moto and turned on the light. There is a large hole on the side of the road just outside the bank parking lot. As I carefully working my way around the hole, still riding on the shoulder, a car suddenly appeared, taking up the right lane and moving onto the shoulder. Yikes! There was no time for me to react. He missed me by inches.
I drove home very carefully. By the time I reached the house, I had calmed down.
Despite the fact that Cambodia does not register on the world's top ten danger zones for drivers, its roads are clearly not for the fainthearted. I agree with Traveling Mark that bigger rules the road here.
Wat Han Chey is about 20 km north of Kampong Cham along the Mekong. The VSO volunteers took a boat trip there about three months ago. I thought it would be fun to ride my moto this time.
The road winds north out of Kampong Cham and is close to the Mekong for most of the trip. After about five kilometers, I began to see roadside stands selling lotus flower pods. I stopped at one stand to take a photo and while I was focusing, the family came out to sell me some. OK, I asked how much? I ended up getting a bag full for 1,000 real. That's about $0.25 for 10 lotus pods.
The lady selling the pods offered me one of the seeds. I popped it into my mouth. When she started waving her hands wildly, I realized that I had done something wrong, and spit out the seed. She then showed me how to peel the seed and just eat the inside. I did not find the seeds to have much flavor.
The man across the road from the lotus pod vendors wanted to show off his cow.
A few kilometers further along, I stopped to shoot more photos of Cambodian transportation. The ox cart is still a major means of transport here.
Just after the ox cart went by, this moto / bus came by fully loaded.
It is a steep climb up from the river to Wat Han Chey. Half way up, there is a cemetery.
As I was leaving the cemetery, a young boy came whizzing by on a bicycle. He looked like he was enjoying the ride.
Wat Han Chey has a breathtaking view of the Mekong.
I was having lunch at a restaurant today here in Kampong Cham, and I watched the shoeshine boy. His method is a little different to what I have observed in the US or Morocco.
In the USA, the only place I have seen shoes being shined is the airport, something I've not tried.
In Fez, men and boys carry small wooden boxes and stools through the medina offering a shine. You can get yours seated or standing. You place your foot on the shoe shaped part of the box and the man or boy goes to work, shining your shoes on your feet. It takes just a few minutes and usually cost me less than $1.00.
In Cambodia, the shoeshine boy did not have a box, but a tattered blue plastic sack with his brush and shoe polish. He walked through the restaurant looking at everyone's feet. When he found a customer, he left his flip flops for the man to use while his shoes were being shined.
The actual shine appeared to use very little polish, just enough to do the job. I assume polish is expensive here. When the shine was done, the boy returned the shoes to their owner, put them on the floor, and helped the customer put them on. Then he took his flip flops and continued about his work.
I wear sandals so I don't know what a shine costs here.
Last week volunteers with whom I went through language training a few months ago were in a refresher course in Phnom Penh, I had opted out of the course, but met up with eight members of the group Monday evening for dinner. They shared stories about their first three months in Cambodia. I only captured the stories of the lady sitting next to me.
The person next to me told how when she was traveling around the country with her Cambodian colleagues they took very good care of her. They would throw the ice out of her glass and would say "don't eat that." They told her "we don't want you to get sick. You would very difficult if you were sick".
The same volunteer described the procedures for requesting travel authorization in the organization where she is working, a set of long and involved steps. Then, as she traveled, every place visited required a piece of paper signed and stamped by the director of the organization.
KAPE, the organization I am volunteering with, has some unusual rules for reporting travel expenses. If I travel to Phnom Penh for medical reasons, I can be reimbursed for the bus from Kampong Cham to Phnom Penh, but not for the moto from home to the bus station. In Phnom Penh, I can be reimbursed for the moto from the guesthouse to the doctor and pharmacy but not for the moto trip from the bus station to the guest house? I don't understand it, but now I know the rules.
When I take a moto in Phnom Penh that costs $0.50 I have to get a receipt from the driver. Do you think he has a receipt book? I have to carry receipts with me, explain that I need him to sign the receipt. The hardest part for me is to remember to do it.
Last evening I was invited out to dinner with colleagues and the volunteer I replaced. There was the customary mix-up on when to be where but we all made it. Dinner included beer over ice, lots of clinking of glasses, rubbery and dry meat and soup.
Arriving home about 21:30, checked e-mail and decided to go to bed. Turning on the bedroom light, I spotted a little something black on the bed, partly covered by the sheet. It must be something from my back pack, which I had emptied on the bed in the morning before leaving for work. On inspection, it was something that a dog or cat left. Yes somehow an animal had got into the house, and used my bed as a bathroom. I was NOT HAPPY.
Looking out the back door over to my landlord's house, it was as expected, dark; he and his family were already asleep. What to do? Take the easy route. I put a fan in the bedroom, blowing out to reduce the odor and went upstairs to sleep. There is no screen on the window in the upstairs bedroom, so it stayed closed against mosquitoes, set my phone alarm for 06:00 am, turned the fan on and went to sleep.
In the morning, when I turned on the water in the upstairs bathroom, there was none. The water in the bathroom had been turned off. I turned the main valve and was sprayed by a hose that had no end; this explained why the water was off. I quickly turned it off and headed for the shower downstairs
I opened the back door to see if my landlord was up. His wife was in the space between our houses. I said hello and asked for her husband. She speaks no English and did not understand what I wanted, although I did say the word "problem" in Khmer. Before long, my landlord was headed to my door. We discussed how dog or cat dodo could have happened and stripped the bed.
After work my landlord brought the washed sheets back and we made the bed.
I guess Friday the 13th started a little early for me.
Last night I went to a house warming. The party was held around tables in the living room, which opens onto the driveway of the house. I sat next to a doctor who spoke a little English, French and Khmer. It was nice to have someone to talk to.
I have learned that if I do not want to drink beer, I must fill my glass with something very fast. I grabbed the bottle of water and filled my glass. Everyone else poured beer into everyone's glass. With water in my glass and later a Coca Cola, I joined in the clinking of glasses. One time, I forgot to clink before drinking and I got a disapproving look.
Dinner was Cambodian curry, vegetables, small clams and raw fish with ginger. The curry was very good. It was not served over rice; instead we sopped it up with pieces of baguette. The curry contained a few potatoes and bones that had been hacked into pieces with a cleaver. It was cooked in a huge pot, about a meter across. Seeing how fast it disappeared, that was the right amount.
The clams looked very good. I watched how people ate them and gave one a try. I popped the first one in my mouth to get the sauce off. Then I tried to open it. I tried three times and gave up. A man across the table showed me how. I tried again. It would NOT open. I tried a second one and it opened easily. The sauce was the best part. Raw fish that has been scraped off of the bones is mixed whit ginger and was a great combination. Ginger in Cambodia is not as strong as I have had elsewhere.
After eating and taking photos of the children.
I went upstairs with the 20-year-olds. This aspect of the party was much like Morocco, with boys in one room and girls in another.
For a Cambodian party this one went late. I left at 21:00 and it was still going strong. All of the other parties I have attended have closed down around 20:00.
I came home about 21:00 and turned on the lights. As I walked past the couch, a large bug ran out from under the couch. A roach! It was so big that I stepped back to let it by.
I hate roaches. I went to the kitchen to get a broom. Brooms in Cambodia are a little smaller than in Europe and the USA, just a little bigger than a tennis racket.
Figure 1 Broom/roach racket
Where is this guy? I looked under the couch. There he is. I took a swing at him. He moved to the other side to the couch leg. Another swipe. This time I connected and he went sliding two meters to the front wall. As soon as he stopped sliding he was back in the game, he ran back to his hiding place. My next shot was a misplaced forehand. I missed. The roach tried to sneak by along the wall. A well placed forehand popped him back toward the front wall. He was stunned but he quickly ran back under the couch.
Wow, he's good. Two more misses with my forehand. Tom, plan your shot better and follow through. My next shot was better. I connected with a backhand and popped him under the moto. It was 30 all.
I can't let this roach beat me. He scurried back toward the couch. With a quick backhand, I lobbed him under the front door and out of the game.
Language is not something I do well. I have learned a few words of Khmer, but not enough to hold a conversation or order dinner.
Tonight I went to my favorite restaurant for dinner. I wanted to have sweet and sour fish, a dish I have enjoyed there many times. Sometimes it comes with three little fish and sometimes it comes with one large fish. I prefer it with the one large fish, since there are not as many bones to mess with. I tried to ask the waitress if they had the one large fish or three little fish and place my order. The waitress left to the kitchen, I sat at a table because I was planning on eating it at the restaurant.
When the waitress came back she handed me a plastic sack with four Styrofoam cartons. OK, what had I ordered? Evidently, take-away, with one order of sweet and sour fish (two medium size fish) and three orders of rice. Not quite what I had expected but it was very good. I gave most of the rice to my landlord.
How many times when you get take-away, does the sauce drip on the car seat. Here, the sauce was in a plastic bag which prevents it from spilling.
When I arrived home, I had all of the sauce the two fish and the rice was still hot. It was a great meal.
Earlier this evening, it rained hard, so hard that I could not hear a podcast. It sounded as if I were at the bottom of a large waterfall.
My landlord's 9-year-old son came running out buck naked. He stood briefly under the drainpipe from the roof, a heavy stream of water, and then ran back to his house.
About an hour later after the rain had slowed down somewhat, my landlord came out wrapped in his karma (traditional Cambodian cloth) wrapper, about to rinse off under the same drain. When I saw that I took him a bar of soap and some shampoo. He thanked me and lathered up. The water is a free shower. After he had showered and rinsed off, he returned the soap and shampoo and went home.
I thought of giving it a try. Perhaps another time.
I was sitting at home and my landlord came in. He had told me yesterday that with the rent money I had paid him he would put a pitched roof on the house. Today, he told me that it would cost $250 not the $150 I had paid for rent. He asked if I could loan him $100. I said OK, and asked again to make sure I had the number correct. This time, he said $120. That's very close to my $150 rent. I offered to pay the September rent in advance.
I pushed my moto out and went to the bank. On the way back home, I was following a large bright green open truck. Open here means no cover on the cab and no doors. There were several men sitting all over the vehicle. I passed a flip flop (standard foot wear here) lying in the road. The truck stopped. One of the men got out and went back and picked up the sandal. I just managed to keep the moto upright while I laughed.
I gave my landlord the money. An hour later he came in waiting for the delivery person to bring the wood for the roof. He was disappointed the delivery was late. I teased him, would it be today, tomorrow or next week. About two hours later the wood delivery showed up.
In my house geckos usually stay on the walls and ceiling and I stay on the floor. Once in a while the wee ones and a medium size gecko will run across the floor. I look where I am walking but in the dark I can't always see them.
This evening I walked into the dark kitchen and saw something move on the floor. I was careful to not step in that spot. When I reached the far wall, I turned on the light switch. I looked around and there on the floor was a one inch (2.5 cm) gecko tail twitching. I was horrified, did I step on the gecko.
I don't think so. I Goggled "Why does a gecko's tail fall off?" and found the following: "A gecko drops its tail as a defense mechanism induced by fear. When a predator approaches, the gecko is able is drop the tail and leave it behind to entice the predator. However, the gecko then loses the fat stored in its tail that will keep it healthy during times when food is harder to find."
When I inspected the tail, it had not been squished so I assume the gecko thought of me as a BIG predator!
There will be one gecko without a tail for some weeks.
