Goodbye to Phnom Penh

10/09/08

When I first arrived in Phnom Penh I didn’t think I would stay there for more than 3 or 4 days. As it turned out I stayed for three weeks. The first few nights were spent in a hotel at 55 dollars a night, the rest of the time was spent in a guesthouse at 15 dollars a night. I had a plane ticket booked for Siem Reap but when I met Tony and he suggested we go to Sihanoukville I wrote the ticket off and stayed on in the capital.
Tony left the day before me and so my last night was spent with the girls and Watana. It is always a problem for me getting Thai or Cambodian names right. I need to see it written down before I am confident of correct pronunciation. You will remember the trouble I had with Chaan Sras’s name. I thought she shared her name with some redneck up in them thar hills. When I am introduced to someone I try to repeat the name, even if I don’t say it correctly they nod politely and accept that is how I am going to address them. Chaan Sras’s friend is another example. I have been writing her name as Ansi or Anis; it is in fact Asy (Ah – see).
Have we cleared that up now? Good. So my last night was spent with the people pictured above. Watana, the tuk-tuk driver, Chaan Sras, Asy and Chaan Sras’s friend Marent. Asy is the girl in red; Marent the girl in black. Watana is the guy in brown and other tuk-tuk driver in white wouldn’t last a day in Phnom Penh as a taxi-driver.
We all called out to Asy’s restaurant for something to eat. I had the foresight to go and get a pizza first so that I wouldn’t starve to death while all those around me gorged themselves on squid, prawns and god knows what else. Watana came to eat with us too. The beer flowed freely and most of the conversation was in Cambodian, funnily enough. A plate garnished with lettuce, peppers and a thick sauce was brought out. Some form of meat sat on top of this dressing. It was offered to me first. When I asked about the nature of the meat I was told it was chicken and that it was very good. Using my chopsticks I picked up a bit and put it in my mouth. It was a bit crunchy but some of it felt a bit like gristle too. I glanced again at the plate and to my horror saw a chicken’s foot. My throat closed tight immediately. Peals of laughter around the table. I was handed a serviette to remove the claw from my mouth; I ordered more beer. They all ate the claws with relish.
I made sure this time to bring my camera with me and get photos of everyone. One or two of the small girls working there were intrigued with the camera so I made sure to get a photo of them. One of Asy’s brothers also got into the frame. As usual, you can see the rest of the pictures on the photo website. At one stage Asy’s small son Adee came out to say hello to me. He can’t be any more than three years of age. He sat on my knee and counted to ten in English and also recited the English alphabet. After quite a lot of beer it was time for ‘pee-pee’ as they say around these here parts. The men’s toilet is located in one of the corners of the restaurant away from the road. It is basically a trough against the wall. The wall itself is 5.5 ft in height and everyone in the restaurant could see my head and make eye contact with me as I urinated. That is they could make eye contact with me if I chose to look up. I didn’t look up; I was distracted by the three cockroaches running up and down the wall directly in front of me as I held my wedding tackle.
When the meal was over we decided to hit Martini’s night club. (The meal and many beers cost me nothing by the way). We all piled into the tuk-tuk and headed off. It is perhaps a little known fact but Cambodians get very pissed, very quickly on very small amounts of beer. As we drove through the streets of Phnom Penh the three girls laughed raucously and grabbed at each other, pinching and tickling one another. Watana laughed too as his tuk-tuk swerved from side to side on the road. I sat up straight with poise and dignity; for we Irish are known the world over for our reserve and sobriety.
At the bar, more beers. The girls danced as Watana and I leaned against the bar trying to make conversation while the speakers roared out some Cambodian equivalent of techno house music. Although five cans of beer are ordered at once, we are each given a small glass with ice. The first can is poured into the first two glasses and the second can is used to fill the next and so on. It is considered bad manners to simply pick up your glass and drink your beer; you must toast and clink your glass against everyone else’s. If you raise a nearly empty glass it won’t be ‘clinked’ until it is filled again. That is no one else will drink until your glass is filled again. We carried on like this for some time. I offered Watana a cigarette, he accepted. After about an hour and four cigarettes each I asked Watana if he was in fact a regular smoker. He admitted he wasn’t, he thought it impolite to refuse them when I offered them. Too bloody polite at times if you ask me. Chaan Sras and I had our first tiff that night too. We were all aware that Asi was interested in me and Chaan Sras claimed to have no problem with this. At one stage Asi was sitting in the corner looking glum. Watana asked if I would be good enough to ask her to dance. Not wishing to appear impolite I got up on the dance floor with Asi for a quick shuffle. Chaan Sras wasn’t impressed; a cross cultural, bilingual, Cambodian/Irish infraction ensued. The Irish decided to make a stand off and retreated to the bar outside the night club. Wishing to repair international relations Watana soon after followed me and explained he had straightened out the misunderstanding, admitting that it was his fault in the first instance, having not been aware of the magnitude of the political situation at that moment in time. Bridges were mended and cross cultural relations resumed. At the bar, more beers.
Eventually Watana dropped everyone home and agreed to pick me up in the morning to take me to the airport. At this stage it was late and the ‘Liquid Bar’ was closed so I never got to say goodbye to Nowch. Such is life. In the morning we checked out. Chaan Sras and I said our goodbyes, promising to keep in touch and meet up again if I came back to Phnom Penh. She suggested she call up to see me in Siem Reap, I said I would have to get back to her on it. I don’t know what is in store for me here.
As I write I am on the rooftop of the hotel I am staying in. It is a common room of sorts with a TV and DVD player. In the corner is a fridge with some beer and soft drinks. An honour system is in place, help yourself to the drink, record it on the sheet and make payment every Friday. Nobody else is here at the moment. I sit alone. The sun has set and all around me is the frog chorus. The mosquitoes are starting to organise a feast on my neck and feet so I shall finish this narrative soon. It reminds me of where I first stayed when I arrived in Thailand. Since my arrival today Watana has rang me to see if I’m okay and got here safely, Chaan Sras has phoned me twice to tell me she misses me and wants to see me soon. Asi (who has no English at all) got her brother to send me a text saying she will love me forever.
Tomorrow morning I will meet the guy who is running the show here and I will be given my placement details. As far as I’m aware I will be working as an assistant to a woman called Rhonda who is a fully qualified teacher.
So tomorrow a new adventure begins and may God have mercy on us all.