Here I am, back in Phnom Penh, a survivor of shrooms bought on the street (though not a survivor that got high at all) and loving Cambodia. Why? It’s hard to explain. There’s a certain sort of feeling like it’s my home in an unfamiliar territory. It’s easy to chill out here and do normal things like attend Cambodian football team games and yell with the other Khmer men when Cambodia loses to Nepal. When I go to a restaurant there are two little Khmer versions of Thelma and Louise screaming around on a tricycle, one with sunglasses, the other behind the wheel raising absolute hell over the planks keeping us from plunging into a pond of putrescence. When I leave my room there are monks collecting alms from the woman I buy banana bread from. Other monks are further down, standing in their bright orange robes holding parasols as shields from the sun.
The next corner holds the tuk tuk drivers blasting “Apple Bottom Jeans” and asking if I need a ride anywhere. Even that kid that told me to “Fuck off” when I wouldn’t buy something. Or that other little boy peeing in the aisle. Or the use of CB 4 radios instead of cell phones. Or a visit to the s 21 prison of Pol Pot and witnessing blood stains still on the walls, hundreds of pictures of the slaughtered masses and still finding that people even bother to ask questions about me in the first place. How can they even be bothered? The children are absolutely hilarious and each day has me bonding with the mothers and children as they yell, “Hello!” or just play games while I do the inevitable wait for services.
I went to the embassy today, which was a strange experience. Quite a lot of security, special service for the Americans, air conditioning, and dozens of people finding out about their Cambodian wive’s citizenship status. Surreal, but also made me miss home a bit. So, I guess I’ll have to say that America is beautiful and despite a lot of things I am happy and lucky to have been born there. For sure.
My travel friend and I spent the day on bikes barely surviving as we biked through the city. Though there is a certain system to the roads here, it requires constant vigilance and attention. One distraction or fascination with a bordering shiny object and you’re toast. I’ve got a few more days in the capital before I move on to Vietnam. I can’t wait, despite horror stories from others. A new country, delicious food, tailored clothes. Grand. I’ll be doing some serious itinerary sight seeing while I’m there, which is a change I’m looking forward to. Barely six weeks before I return home, which isn’t sounding long at all anymore.
Eh, I’ve been at this cafe too long and a sunset on the lake is calling me.
