It just occurred to me that while I have a little blog and a little bit about my school to post, I haven’t written much in the past few weeks, especially about the grand adventures that I have had…
It all began in our provincial town of Svay, where my friend Deidre and I were meeting up to enjoy some ice cream and go to a party with the current VSO volunteers from the provinces. For those of you unfamiliar with VSO, it is basically the Peace Corps of Europe and Africa (maybe Asia?) with a few different rules. They can ride motos, they live by themselves, and many are working in the health sector rather than the education sector, although our host from Svay (Jan, from UK) works in the Teacher Training college and let us stay in he lovely apartment and ride around in her car! While at said party, I met up with the volunteers who live and work in my own district town (they switch from my district to another every month) as well as a few more future volunteers who will live in various places around the province. I also had some delicious pasta alfredo and garlic bread, homemade brownies, and, in true volunteer fashion, a little beer. There was also a bit of culture sharing, considering the Peace Corps volunteers were the only Americans at the party! The others were from the Netherlands, the UK, Ireland, and Kenya. I spent a good portion of the evening learning Irish square dancing, which I never knew was so difficult, and enjoying the company of people who share the same native language as myself. In life here, it sometimes gets tiresome to speak with nearly perfect grammar, slowly and loudly, no slang involved…
The evening ended with some CNN TV covering what else but financial crisis and campaigning, and a pleasant sleep in a very cool indoor room with two different fans. We woke up with porridge (porridge!!) on the stove, and ate, four Peace Corps Volunteers and a really awesome VSO, with a spot of tea and some bananas. Deidre and I saw the boys home and then took off on borrowed bikes to shop a bit before returning and cooking a fully loaded omele
t and French fries with our new friend. We also ended up with “The Killing Fields” on the TV – an amazing movie that documents some of the horrors that the Khmer Rouge inflicted on the country that I live in now. I recognized some bits from the movie from things that my family had told me, things that I read in books, but the story is vivid and poignant on the screen. I was also surprised to learn that part of the storyline of the movie involved the Province that I currently live in – he travels through my district and the nearby temple to reach the haven of the Thailand border. I must saw, however, that the footage of this sojourn looks nothing like the landscape that I see when I make the similar journey. I do not fault the movie, though, because the storyline is wonderful and well-told despite the limitations of the time period (the movie was made in the early 80s, when the regime was barely over).
But now for the exciting part of the story – the next morning I woke up, enjoying the delightful porridge again, as much as I could anyway…there were some tummy issues over the weekend…and Deidre and I went out again from some more biking and town-seeing. The pleasant day was shocked a bit when, fairly near to Jan’s house, a guy on a moto bike turned to look at Deidre and slammed into my front tire. I fell, braced myself with my wrist, and was a little too shaken to realize that my bike wasn’t functioning correctly. But fear not, because the local bike repair man quickly rescued my bike and saved me from the help of the many spectators, fixing it to a ride-able state for just a little cash, while Deidre got some ice for my troubled wrist.
In turns out, after a ride to the 10k away Monkol Borei hospital with melting ice dripping over my clothes and my apologies being cut off by Jan the Driver, after some confusing conversations with the new temporary PCMO with a Georgia-the-country-not-the-state accent about where I am and where she is, after some X-Rays with a man very pleasantly surprised with my little bits of Khmer and some bandages from the doctor who had come in on his day off, that it was only a sprain, and I had a pretty amazing looking set of bandages – so much so that Deidre, who came with, and Dan, who rode over to check out the situation, burst out laughing almost to tears at first site of my exiting the exam room. Then they took that picture…
And then I went home. But wait…there’s more! Because of my tummy issues (hint: they didn’t leave a pleasant look or smell in le toilet) and my little accident, I got pulled down to Phnom Penh for a medical visit – my first ever! The PCMO called me after school (around 11) on Tuesday, and told me to come down right away. I was a little bit shocked, both at the request and at the time of day (usually, the taxis that I want to take are early in the morning, almost never around lunch time), but somehow I found a driver, got down to Svay, and began the 7 hour journey down to the Penh. Yep, 7 hours or more. I left my site around 11:30/12, and arrived in Phnom Penh after 8. I read an entire book and took a few naps along the way – it was less packed than a usual taxi – plus I was awake long enough to hear (I’m pretty sure) the 5 other men in the car discussing the “pretty girls” around Svay.
But then, Phnom Penh.
Notable moments:
I was eating at a little Italian place called Le Duo, nibbling on some pizza and enjoying the scenery (the place looks like a poster of the Sistine chapel, with a giant screen print hanging on the ceiling and busts in the style around the warm clay-colored walls. It is all outdoor dining, and a shady full-sized pool is nestled on one side of the restaurant), when I noticed a bit of commotion between the servers and a table near to me. I watched the two Khmer men chat for a while at a table for 8 before I saw them jump up and turned to see a very cool looking white man stroll in with an entourage, his importance obvious. He wore a black polo shirt with is collar up near his ears and shrugged off his leather jacket before sitting at the head of the table and nonchalantly ordering his red wine and antipasto. His cool aura was only emphasized by the nervous jitters of his many companions, the same Khmer men, another (less important) white man, and a few women who weren’t Khmer but definitely Asian, and certainly wealthy. There isn’t a punch line to this story…it is just an observation of the people that I saw that evening – much different from myself… and they had the sharply dressed waiters, with their crisp white shirts and red ties and black vests, in a frenzy.
There is a KFC with very good fried chicken and mashed potatoes (with gravy!) and cole slaw. I noticed (there may have been two visits that helped me realize this) that the workers there are probably very well paid because they all speak English and that is a very highly-regarded trait here. They were also very nice and helped me because I was still wearing my wrist brace and couldn’t do much with my hand. While I was there, I ordered a combo meal that came with the chicken and the fixins, but I saw very few Khmer people who did the same. Most ordered a big plate of chicken and some sort of beverage, which they ate with massive amounts of mild chili sauce and ketchup. When I went in the evening, the place was packed with Khmer people – and from what I saw, the majority was more than a little wealthy. My little Khmer bike didn’t fit in with all the motos, just like it didn’t fit in at Le Duo, or the Lucky Supermarket, or most of the places that I wanted to eat at.
Phnom Penh is expensive if you are a Volunteer.
The Golden Gate Hotel chain does laundry for free, which is awesome. They also had a fridge, so I got to store and enjoy the chocolate that I received from my mom at a cool and un-melted temperature. The dark Bliss chocolate was my favorite, although I discovered that my tummy couldn’t handle as much as I wanted to…and it may have made me a little bit sick. Either way, I loved it and would always appreciate more. The rest of the chocolate is being saved for this evening, Halloween night.
Speaking of Halloween, it has been quite an adventure explaining this holiday to the Cambodian people that I know. My family thought it was ridiculous and the teachers at my school couldn’t stop laughing about full grown people dressing up like ghosts and witches and famous people and animals and going out to beg for candy at night. However, it was a nice test (that I passed…) of my skill with the Khmer language, and my explanation of it in front of all the teachers at the monthly meeting yesterday was quite a hit given my…umm…outgoing nature and avid excitement over this silly little holiday. I look forward to enjoying it this evening with my friends in the provincial town…
It all began in our provincial town of Svay, where my friend Deidre and I were meeting up to enjoy some ice cream and go to a party with the current VSO volunteers from the provinces. For those of you unfamiliar with VSO, it is basically the Peace Corps of Europe and Africa (maybe Asia?) with a few different rules. They can ride motos, they live by themselves, and many are working in the health sector rather than the education sector, although our host from Svay (Jan, from UK) works in the Teacher Training college and let us stay in he lovely apartment and ride around in her car! While at said party, I met up with the volunteers who live and work in my own district town (they switch from my district to another every month) as well as a few more future volunteers who will live in various places around the province. I also had some delicious pasta alfredo and garlic bread, homemade brownies, and, in true volunteer fashion, a little beer. There was also a bit of culture sharing, considering the Peace Corps volunteers were the only Americans at the party! The others were from the Netherlands, the UK, Ireland, and Kenya. I spent a good portion of the evening learning Irish square dancing, which I never knew was so difficult, and enjoying the company of people who share the same native language as myself. In life here, it sometimes gets tiresome to speak with nearly perfect grammar, slowly and loudly, no slang involved…
The evening ended with some CNN TV covering what else but financial crisis and campaigning, and a pleasant sleep in a very cool indoor room with two different fans. We woke up with porridge (porridge!!) on the stove, and ate, four Peace Corps Volunteers and a really awesome VSO, with a spot of tea and some bananas. Deidre and I saw the boys home and then took off on borrowed bikes to shop a bit before returning and cooking a fully loaded omele
t and French fries with our new friend. We also ended up with “The Killing Fields” on the TV – an amazing movie that documents some of the horrors that the Khmer Rouge inflicted on the country that I live in now. I recognized some bits from the movie from things that my family had told me, things that I read in books, but the story is vivid and poignant on the screen. I was also surprised to learn that part of the storyline of the movie involved the Province that I currently live in – he travels through my district and the nearby temple to reach the haven of the Thailand border. I must saw, however, that the footage of this sojourn looks nothing like the landscape that I see when I make the similar journey. I do not fault the movie, though, because the storyline is wonderful and well-told despite the limitations of the time period (the movie was made in the early 80s, when the regime was barely over).But now for the exciting part of the story – the next morning I woke up, enjoying the delightful porridge again, as much as I could anyway…there were some tummy issues over the weekend…and Deidre and I went out again from some more biking and town-seeing. The pleasant day was shocked a bit when, fairly near to Jan’s house, a guy on a moto bike turned to look at Deidre and slammed into my front tire. I fell, braced myself with my wrist, and was a little too shaken to realize that my bike wasn’t functioning correctly. But fear not, because the local bike repair man quickly rescued my bike and saved me from the help of the many spectators, fixing it to a ride-able state for just a little cash, while Deidre got some ice for my troubled wrist.
In turns out, after a ride to the 10k away Monkol Borei hospital with melting ice dripping over my clothes and my apologies being cut off by Jan the Driver, after some confusing conversations with the new temporary PCMO with a Georgia-the-country-not-the-state accent about where I am and where she is, after some X-Rays with a man very pleasantly surprised with my little bits of Khmer and some bandages from the doctor who had come in on his day off, that it was only a sprain, and I had a pretty amazing looking set of bandages – so much so that Deidre, who came with, and Dan, who rode over to check out the situation, burst out laughing almost to tears at first site of my exiting the exam room. Then they took that picture…
And then I went home. But wait…there’s more! Because of my tummy issues (hint: they didn’t leave a pleasant look or smell in le toilet) and my little accident, I got pulled down to Phnom Penh for a medical visit – my first ever! The PCMO called me after school (around 11) on Tuesday, and told me to come down right away. I was a little bit shocked, both at the request and at the time of day (usually, the taxis that I want to take are early in the morning, almost never around lunch time), but somehow I found a driver, got down to Svay, and began the 7 hour journey down to the Penh. Yep, 7 hours or more. I left my site around 11:30/12, and arrived in Phnom Penh after 8. I read an entire book and took a few naps along the way – it was less packed than a usual taxi – plus I was awake long enough to hear (I’m pretty sure) the 5 other men in the car discussing the “pretty girls” around Svay.
But then, Phnom Penh.
Notable moments:
I was eating at a little Italian place called Le Duo, nibbling on some pizza and enjoying the scenery (the place looks like a poster of the Sistine chapel, with a giant screen print hanging on the ceiling and busts in the style around the warm clay-colored walls. It is all outdoor dining, and a shady full-sized pool is nestled on one side of the restaurant), when I noticed a bit of commotion between the servers and a table near to me. I watched the two Khmer men chat for a while at a table for 8 before I saw them jump up and turned to see a very cool looking white man stroll in with an entourage, his importance obvious. He wore a black polo shirt with is collar up near his ears and shrugged off his leather jacket before sitting at the head of the table and nonchalantly ordering his red wine and antipasto. His cool aura was only emphasized by the nervous jitters of his many companions, the same Khmer men, another (less important) white man, and a few women who weren’t Khmer but definitely Asian, and certainly wealthy. There isn’t a punch line to this story…it is just an observation of the people that I saw that evening – much different from myself… and they had the sharply dressed waiters, with their crisp white shirts and red ties and black vests, in a frenzy.
There is a KFC with very good fried chicken and mashed potatoes (with gravy!) and cole slaw. I noticed (there may have been two visits that helped me realize this) that the workers there are probably very well paid because they all speak English and that is a very highly-regarded trait here. They were also very nice and helped me because I was still wearing my wrist brace and couldn’t do much with my hand. While I was there, I ordered a combo meal that came with the chicken and the fixins, but I saw very few Khmer people who did the same. Most ordered a big plate of chicken and some sort of beverage, which they ate with massive amounts of mild chili sauce and ketchup. When I went in the evening, the place was packed with Khmer people – and from what I saw, the majority was more than a little wealthy. My little Khmer bike didn’t fit in with all the motos, just like it didn’t fit in at Le Duo, or the Lucky Supermarket, or most of the places that I wanted to eat at.
Phnom Penh is expensive if you are a Volunteer.
The Golden Gate Hotel chain does laundry for free, which is awesome. They also had a fridge, so I got to store and enjoy the chocolate that I received from my mom at a cool and un-melted temperature. The dark Bliss chocolate was my favorite, although I discovered that my tummy couldn’t handle as much as I wanted to…and it may have made me a little bit sick. Either way, I loved it and would always appreciate more. The rest of the chocolate is being saved for this evening, Halloween night.
Speaking of Halloween, it has been quite an adventure explaining this holiday to the Cambodian people that I know. My family thought it was ridiculous and the teachers at my school couldn’t stop laughing about full grown people dressing up like ghosts and witches and famous people and animals and going out to beg for candy at night. However, it was a nice test (that I passed…) of my skill with the Khmer language, and my explanation of it in front of all the teachers at the monthly meeting yesterday was quite a hit given my…umm…outgoing nature and avid excitement over this silly little holiday. I look forward to enjoying it this evening with my friends in the provincial town…
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