Not my Best Evening

It was a long day in the introduction to Cambodia class. Tired to check e-mail but there was no internet connection.

Some of the volunteers were going to a restaurant/bar to celebrate a birthday and I went along. I walked with the group; by the time I arrived I looked like someone had poured a bucket of water on me. It was HOT.

Prices at the bar we visited are the highest I have seen in Phnom Penh. A diet Coke was $2.50. I splurged and had one, thinking that was 1/100 of my month's allowance.

Back at the common area in my quarters, I tried the internet again but still no luck. I wrote for a while and at about 22:30 I walked back to my room for the night.

I reached into my right pants pocket for my key, not there. I checked my left pocket, not there; I looked my computer bag, not there. I tried the door to see if it was locked, it was. Checked all of my pockets again, NO key. I can call the emergency number but I sure hate to do that.

The door to my room is the thinnest I have ever seen, made of plastic light shining through it. The lock is just about falling out; I could easily push it in. Not a good idea, doing that would break something.

My room is behind the kitchen, there must be a knife in the kitchen. I bet I can use a knife to get in. The knife was not flexible enough and got caught up in the lock works. Back to the kitchen to find a better tool, I looked through the tray of silverware and utensils. The tines on a fork may be more flexible than the knife. It only took a few seconds with the fork to get the door open.

There was my key on the night stand right where I had left it.

Now back in my room I decided to use the large blue bucket in the bathroom to do laundry. In the afternoon and evening the water from the single tap is warm, in the morning it is cold.

The shower is part of the bathroom that means that there is not a separate shower pan, the water just falls on the bathroom floor and then goes down the drain under the sink. While washing clothes there was water everywhere.

I stood up from my washing to hang a shirt on the towel bar, slipped and almost fell. I was lucky, the bathroom is very small, and I could catch myself against the walls.

Tom, be careful, the third time is the charm.

Cyclo Tour

2010-03-13 Saturday

Awoke at 07:15 feeling like I had not slept much. I had thought of running but with the Cyclo tour today I didn't run.

Our Cyclo tour headed off in two groups. To see photos of a Cyclo and the tour take a look at my Flickr account

Our itinerary was

• Central Market
  
• Wat Phnom
  
• Royal Palace
  
• National museum
  
• Lunch
  
• Russian market
  
• Back home
  

At the central market I purchased a hat, I did not find my glacier hat in the suit case so I needed a hat to cover the almost bald spot.

On the way to the Royal Palace one of the Cyclos had a flat and we waited about 20 minutes for him to join the group. It was hot waiting in the sun.

From the Royal palace and museum it was a good long ride to lunch. About ½ way I asked the driver to stop and we switched places. I gave him my camera and he sat in the passenger seat, I drove.

Anatomy of a Cyclo.

• It is a single fixed gear. That means when the back tire goes around, the peddles go around. You can use the peddles to slow down but they still go round.
  
• The brake is a round ring behind the driver's seat. It is not hard to reach once you become accustomed to it but the first time it is hard to find.
  
• Steering – it's very sensitive.
  
• It is easier to peddle at higher speed than lower speeds but it is much harder to control at higher speed.
  

When I took over as the Cyclo driver there was straight stretch on which to get my legs.


As we went along, there were hoots and hollers from other Cyclo drivers and people along the street not to mention the hearty laughing of the other volunteers.

The first traffic circle! How did the original driver do this? Rather than going directly across the line of traffic, I went right and hoped to merge in with the traffic and then cut out again. Luckily there was not much traffic. I got through but not in great Cyclo style.

Another straight stretch. This one had some bumps to slow traffic down, now I see why the driver would slow down for them. You can really feel them as the driver. I picked up a little speed my feet came off the peddles. It was quite tricky at this speed to get my feet back on the peddles while they were spinning around.

Oh MY God the biggest and one of the busiest traffic circles in Phnom Penh. I was trying to steer, watch out for cars, motor bikes, people, find the brake, and keep my feet on the peddles. I looked around, all of the other Cyclos were on the very left of the lanes and I was on the right. I saw their logic; they had many less lanes of traffic to cross. Slow and easy, I started to turn left across what looked like 10 lanes of traffic. I came close to one motorbike. I just about fell off when I saw the driver waving at traffic to stay away. Three more close calls. A motorbike stopped in front of me, I missed it by only millimeters. Whew. Somehow I made it across the intersection onto a slightly downhill road with much less traffic. After the intersection I decided to go slowly.

I pulled up at the restaurant and hopped off, lifted the back wheel of the Cyclo up about 18 inches, this tips the front down to the passenger can get off easily. The driver was impressed. He congratulated me. I think he may have kissed the ground once I went inside for lunch.

While pushing the peddles I did not notice how hot I was. At lunch they came around with bottles of water. WOW did I need that. I had only peddled two kilometers but I was roasting. Everyone in the group was complementing me on having made it in one piece.

After lunch we all got back into the Cyclos. I did not try to drive. I planned to head back to where I was staying. Everyone including my Cyclo headed to the Russian Market. I do not speak any Kmier so I went along.

First day in Cambodia

Up at about 07:30. I was pleasantly surprised that I was cool. OK, new location and one goal is to reshape myself to look more like the locals, THIN.

Dug through my suitcase that finally arrived yesterday at 10:00 PM to find running gear. Pulled out all sorts of things and finally found a pair of running shoes, shorts, top, etc. and went for a very short run. WOW am I out of shape after two months without regular training.

It was exciting to see familiar tropical plants and flowers.

To Cambodia

I checked in at the Zurich airport and paid for my excess baggage. It was CHF 300 that is about $300 for six kilos or 12 pounds. I tried to get the seat in front of mine that was in the exit row but I could not.

I slept most of the way to Charles De Gaulle (CDG) a one-hour flight. I had four hours to kill in CDG. I found a small desk with an electric plug and went to work trying to solve a Lightroom and Photoshop problem.

Working away at a small desk I looked up and there was a crowd in the aisle, everyone was looking down the terminal toward an empty portion of the terminal, to the place where I had just checked to see if I could change my seat. Army personnel had the area blocked off. I guess someone left a bag unattended.

Some time ago, when I was at Orly airport, they had cleared most of the terminal. A while later there was a very loud bang, they had put an explosive on the bag and blown it up.

At CDG, I went back to work. 30 minutes later people were allowed back into the terminal. There was no bang.

I boarded the flight to Bangkok (BKK) just after the families. I was in the second row or coach class and was lucky I got on early, I staked out my place in the overhead. The guy that had the seat in front of me told me how he thinks he got it. Next time.

Boarding early gave me a chance to see all of the other 340 passengers come by. I asked how full we would be and the attendant said there would be about 40 seats free. Not enough to stretch out and sleep.

Usually on a plane I fall asleep during taxi, wake up for takeoff and then back to sleep. On this flight it did not work I was awake the entire flight. It must have been the nap on the flight from Zurich.

We took off from CDG an hour late. I set my watch on what I thought was BKK time. The time on the in flight display had a different time so I set my watch to that. It looked like I would have seven hours to kill in BKK. I was not looking forward to that.

I was one of the first passengers down the gangway into the terminal. A thin Thai boy was holding a sign with my name and those of four others. I introduced myself and stood by while he collected the others. I asked what time it was and was told 13:15. It did not register at the time but my flight to Phnom Penh was to depart at 13:40. It was a jog through the airport to make the Bangkok Airways flight to Phnom Penh. There was NO Way my suitcases would make it.

When I walked into immigration in Phnom Penh, a man held up a sign for me, then helped me fill in the paperwork at immigration and file the claim for my bag.

I made it.

Aftermath of the cut

I try to avoid haircuts in the winter, especially ones that really are close on the back of my neck. The Turkish haircut was a little shorter than I had planned and definitely was tight on the back of my neck.

By the time I got to the hostel in Antwerp I had noticed the lack of neck hair. In the room on the top floor, it was cool and there was no heat.

I ate one of the sandwiches that I had brought along but I was still cold. Ok, I will go out and try to find something hot for dinner. There was no one at the desk in the hostel so I decided to head toward the main street. As I crossed the street, I remembered that the Night Shop owner was Moroccan, I walked in and asked him where I could get something hot. He gave me directions, it was about three blocks. When I walked in, it felt like home, Moroccan brass lamps on the walls and other Moroccan decorations.

The restaurant was a combination of a Belgian Fruuteri (a place with all deep fried food) and a Moroccan restaurant. Everyone in the place looked Moroccan. I ordered Harira and a shrimp tagine. The only tagine they had was lamb, OK, I wanted something hot to eat.

After dinner walking home, I was much warmer. When I reached the third floor room, it seemed like I had not had a hair cut at all.

Oh No!!!!!

It was an early get up then off to the train. The train was empty. Am I on the right train? I looked at the sign on the door and overhead and it was the right train. I took a handicapped seat, because it has a power outlet. Now I can work on my journal for RedR UK.

After we left Mulhouse I unpacked and set to work. I noticed that the IPod was low on charge so I plugged it into the laptop and then I got the power supply for the laptop out. Then I went oh OH NO... The cord for the laptop has an American three prong plug. There was a white adapter on that plug to plug it into the Swiss extension cord. The Swiss plug has three round pins. On the French train there is a place to plug in the two prong French/German style plug. So I can only work as long as the battery will last.


The train stopped in Brussels Luxembourg station, then Schuman station. I wondered if Schuman would be closer to the bank than the North Station but I stayed on the train until the Brussels North Station. I went to look for the bus line. I stopped to ask at a ticket booth and two men from the tram and bus service pulled out a map to show me were to go. They had a faster and shorter route than I had obtained from the internet.

I went to the lower level and hopped on Tram 25 for five stops, then to the number 66 bus for eight stops and I was at the bank. Great!

At the bank I picked up my new credit card that will expire in 2013 and a new electronic ID for PC banking. I said that I did not want the battery in the old electronic ID to run out while I was in Cambodia so the lady gave me three of the new electronic IDs just in case. Then back on the bus to the tram. When I got off the bus, I looked around and on the corner was a barbershop.

I wonder what a hair cut will cost there. I walked in and looked at the price list, €9 for a haircut. That's great. The last haircut I had in Brussels was €25 and the last one in Switzerland was CHF 40. I asked the guy if he spoke English and he said "medium", "short" and "what's your name". I told him moyen in French and he went to work.

He snipped and snipped as the locks of light brown and gray fell on to the Towel. He trimmed my eyebrows and mustache. I thought he was about done. He reached into his tray of tools and pulled out a huge old brown que tip. I thought me must be going to use that to oil his clipper. He squirted some liquid on the to que tip and then he reached for a lighter and lit it. There was a flame about three inches high. NOW WHAT? He placed his flat hand between my eye and ear and flicked the flame at my ear singeing off any hair that he had missed, then to the other side. I have had many haircuts but never this treatment. He had told me he is Turkish; this may be a specific Turkish treatment. Not a bad cut for €9.

I walked up to a crowd of people at the tram stop. Come to find out they were all going my way. A few people got off the tram but it was packed. I had my back pack and the computer. I waited and boarded last. I set my computer bag on top of my backpack and reached back into the crush of people to stamp my ticket. As I pushed my ticket down into the machine, the tram lurched forward, then backward. Forward was not a problem but when it went backward, my computer fell off of the backpack and crashed to the floor. OH NO. I sure hope it is OK. Nothing I can do now I will wait and check it out in Antwerp. I worried all the way to Antwerp. Would it still work?! Back in the North station, I purchased a plug adaptor and wondered if I have just put a bad spell on the computer, purchasing the adapter. As soon as I got to my room in the hostel, I carefully plugged the computer in and check it out. It WORKS!!

I can finally sleep, Fasnacht is over.

I can finally sleep, Fasnacht is over. For the past three days Basel has been engulfed in Fasnacht 2010. (see my photos of Fasnacht on Flickr) Fasnacht is an annual event that has between 15,000 and 20,000 participants and up to 500,000 spectators. This truly Swiss carnival starts on the Monday after Ash Wednesday at precisely 4:00 am. At that moment, all of the street lights in the old town are turned off and the "Three Most Beautiful days" begin. Fasnacht is the Protestant's way of poking fun at the Catholics, by holding a carnival during Lent.

On Monday and Wednesday afternoon, Cliques (groups of participants) parade through the old city. Months before Fasnacht, the Cliques determine their themes, and design costumes, masks, and lanterns to represent the themes. As they march they hand out explanatory leaflets written in the Basel dialect.

During the parade I work my way thought the crowd photographing the marching bands, floats and spectators. Spectators read the handouts that describe the Clique's Sujet (theme). Masked characters known as Waggis toss confetti, covering spectators, and from time to time me and my camera. It's all in fun. The Waggis also hand out treats ranging from oranges and flowers to small bottles of schnapps.

Monday evening the large lanterns pulled by the Cliques are parked on the Munsterplatz (the square in front of the cathedral). This is a chance for me, the spectators and Clique's members to have a close look at the messages on the lanterns and the fabulous workmanship.

The children's parade is on Tuesday afternoon. On Monday and Tuesday evening the Kellers (cellars where the Cliques meet) are opened as bars for Schnitzelbängg, which is singing and acting out humorous sayings and jingles about current events and happenings from the past year. I don't understand the Basler dialect but watching the way the crowd respond to the comedians it is clear that the rhythmic lyrics lead up to a punch line that really hits the spot.

Gässle is the wandering through the narrow alleyways of the old city by masked individuals and groups at all hours of the day and night. As they play fifes and drums, spectators march behind them. Fasnacht continues until exactly 4 am Thursday morning. When the clock strikes four this time the city falls silent. I can go back to sleep.

For information on Fasnacht 2011 see www.fasnachts-comite.ch