Apologies to my regular readers, hopefully there’s at least one of you :o), I’ve been a bit remiss these last couple of weeks but it’s certainly not due to a lack of subject matter or motivation to write. It’s simply making the time although the time when taken, is extremely cathartic as I process and make sense of all that I’ve seen and done. Have I mentioned how small Phnom Penh is? It’s a town of 1.4 million people inhabiting 290km squared - that’s approximately 4,500 people per square km. By comparison Brisbane has 1.8million people that inhabit 5,904 km squared – that’s approximately 918 people per square km. And the best bit is that I can walk 5mins in one direction and 10 mins in the other to two of the bigger supermarkets. I headed out on foot tonight around 5.30pm, a beautiful time in Phnom Penh. The broiling sun is about to set, a gentle breeze is stirring up the heat that’s been cloying at you all day and the light is making everything look as if it’s all been created by some exceptional artist. I set out for some essentials (floor cleaner and light bulb) and some come back with some not so essentials, Vodka Cruisers, pate and banana cake) and of course I get asked if I “would like Moto” on average 7.5 times on the outward and return journey but that’s ok, I’d be thinking something was wrong if they didn’t ask. A lovely friend of mine once said they should just charge you a $30 entrance fee when you walk into a supermarket because no matter how little you intend on buying when you go in, you’ll always come out having spent at least $30. In P.P its $14usd! I have to share my excitement on discovering NZ apples while I was ther, I don’t care what anybody else says these are the best apples in the world! Wahhooooo. I can’t even get these babies in Oz. I started cycling to work a couple of times last week. I set off nice and early the first day but badly misjudged the time it would take and ended up 45 mins early for work. I took the opportunity to give the trusty white stead a wash down so she was bright and shiny until at least the time I came to ride her home – the dust is unbelievable! Cycling takes about as long as it does to moto – am a bit more manoeuvrable on the bike, defter at ducking and diving. I wished I could take a video of the journey in an attempt to share some of the experience, the noise and chaos. Where lanes serve no other purpose than to simply be white markings on the road, where motorbikes barrel towards you on the wrong side of the road, where a cycle, motorbike, Lexus 4x4, truck, cyclo and pedestrian can all share the same half of a two lane road pretty much side by side, where red lights seem only to apply to cars and trucks, where indicators are judged as passé and you simply shouldn’t be driving or riding unless you have a mobile phone attached to your ear. Oh, and please make the most of your motos ability to replace a removal truck – queen sized mattresses, bookshelves, a cage of chickens and the entire family are all respectable loads for a moto rider. I drew up to a set of lights last week as a lovely Khmer guy on a moto rode slowly past lifting his butt cheek as he went and let out a massive fart! I nearly fell off my bike from disbelieve and from laughter. Trying to do my New Year Body Challenge DVD is quite hard in an unairconditioned room of tiles. If I’m not slipping off my exercise ball my hands are sliding across the floor as I attempt to do a push-up in the sweat. Creating a mild risk to ones well being at the same time as improving it, is just another of the mild idiosyncrasies of living here.

Last Saturday I headed out with Mara to assist her teach the middle class of a school that both houses, feeds and schools children who’s families live and create an income from the Phnom Penh dump. The children go to their families on a Saturday night but return from the dirt and grim to the relative sanctuary of the school on a Sunday evening. They attend school every day and on Saturday mornings volunteers like Mara visit the school for two hours to bring the children a bit of variety. They’re clean and tidy in their white tops with blue trousers or skirts, like the majority of school children in Phnom Penh. They rise when you walk into the classroom and say in chorus “good morning teacher, thank you for coming to teach us today”. They politely ask if they can go to the bathroom when they need to go and love to join in the singing. Drawing on the other hand did not seem to be a favourite and it took a while before they got into the full swing of it and the bright colourful rainbows began to appear. They’re very tactile (like most Cambodians) and hold your arm when you crouch to talk to them, sneaking in a hug when/if they get the chance. They’re proud to show what they’ve achieved and seek out praise and ask for help willingly. They run outside eagerly at break time to play but clean up the classroom without being asked at the end of the lesson. I spoke to one of the Cambodian teachers in the break and he said the difference in the children from when they first start is really remarkable. Gone are the filthy dirty, rude and uncooperative wee tyrants. The headmistress chatted to me on her way out – she was going to see a family and try and talk them into letting their daughter return to the school. The family’s oldest daughter had been killed, run over by a truck at the dump in the previous weeks and so to replace her, the family removed from the school one of the twins sisters that attended. She was the better worker of the two and would help to replace the income of the older daughter. A hard job for the headmistress who understands the competing needs. Short term gain for the family, versus the long term development of the daughter and her chance at a better life, both for herself and her family. I hope she was successful in convincing the family. I spent Saturday afternoon doing some Khmer practice over a Chai tea and then got some sun at a hotel pool. Then it was AGM week and we were all flat out at work in preparation. I was the only Medicam staff member at the hotel on the Thursday morning as all the NGO’s began arriving to set up their exhibitions. That was fun as I tried to sort out everything with limited communication skills – all came together in the end! It was a very interesting day and a half as I listened to the presentations and debate and visited the exhibitions to read and pick up pamphlets on what is happening in the health sector. Things that stuck in mind were stats like the Cambodian road toll is 6 deaths per day!!! And the incidences of acid attacks this year is already 3!!!! They had 12 in total last year. When I asked the staff what on earth is the motivation for an acid attack they responded that mostly its jealousy and love triangles, unbelievable! The hotel put on some awesome food and we danced on Thursday night in celebration of MEDiCAMs 20 years – I was lucky enough to avoid any crazy ladies this time. Friday night I enjoyed a few well earned red wines with some other volunteers and a Khmer friend. Saturday morning I got up early and went to a hotel with free internet to Skype Bec. That was great as we had our first really successful Skype session. After that I headed my moto down to the riverside and onto a ferry to take me across the Mekong to visit Peta. We took her moto for the next part of the journey – Scoobys not really made for off-roading :o) We headed about 10kms along a bumpy dirt main road where we got into a rhythm of covering our mouths to save being the recipient of a mouthful of dust whenever a truck sped past. It was so lovely to be in the country on a sunny but partly cloudy day. We passed road side stalls, houses and shops which included dentists and pharmacies of a very primitive looking nature. We also passed multiple skinny white cows, their necks adorned with impressive collars bells a-tinkering as they plodded to and from the river for a swim. There were mango trees and Wats and a funny tree with something like cotton growing high in it’s branches. Peta explained that they use the white fluffy stuff to fill pillows and cushions – arr that explains the stuff in the overstuffed pillow I bought when I first got here. We arrive at the ferry stop and watch as our ferry makes it slow way across the river towards us. A moto driver has also pulled up with a woven straw basket of about 20 piglets all squawking fit to burst! The poor wee mites all stand on top of each other as they struggle for purchase on the circular basket. Interestingly the piglets tails are all straight – the curly bit already cut off for someone’s dinner? I’m not sure. The ferry is small and only ourselves and a couple of other motos hop on. All the way along the river you can see brown glistening bodies in the water just swimming and larking about or rubbing their cows down as they stand neck high in the water. It’s a tranquil scene as our ferry putt-putts across to the island on the other side. This is a silk producing island and all the way along the main road you can see the houses on stilts sheltering silk looms beneath. We bump and bounce along the rutted road and I can’t possibly imagine what it would be like in the wet season. We have to pay an entrance fee on entry to the beach and are escorted by a man who wants to sell us some food. There are simple beach huts all along the beach with thatched roofs, four poles, a raised floor and no walls, and we chose one at a good distance from all the children – well peace and quiet is partly what we’re here for. They lay mats on the floor of the hut for us and we are immediately surrounded by people wanting to sell us sticky rice and jackfruit, bananas, green mangoes, chicken and rice etc. We end up having a small feast and a lovely lazy afternoon of chatting while a lovely breeze keeps us cool. The children eventually come to visit, all butt naked, curious and full of mischief as they splash about in the water next to us. One of the more daring ones sidles up to our left over rice stuffs her fist full of rice into her mouth and quickly moves away only to return a few more times until she’s satisfied her hunger. We have a Khmer coffee as we wait for our ferry to return to take us back to Petas. Its cold coffee served on ice with condensed milk lining the bottom of the glass. Delicious! The shack selling the coffee is full of men all watching a Cambodian boxing match, screaming their delight at some good move and groaning and slapping their plastic chairs at a bad move. They’ve got money riding on this! It’s been a beautiful day and the ferry ride home is a delight as the sun is low and glints majestically of the river. Myself and Mara set off to the Russian market early so I can get my piece of material made into a Sombot Som (traditional Khmer skirt) and I can get another skirt altered. We then head south on our pushbikes stopping to get some air in our tyres and then stopping a few minutes later as my front tyre goes flat. It seems a cycle guy is every 500 metres or so and we stop at the next one who has my tube sorted in 5 mins and all for the measly sum of 25c!

We travel for about half an hour on a busy main road that would just pass as an unmaintained back country road at home. We’re thankful for the well padded seats as we bump along to the chorus of car horns tooting frequently and loudly. The toots are however, to simply let us know they’re there and to watch out not to chastise us for daring to be on the road. The ride, and the dust and noise is more than worth it as we arrive at our destination. It’s a hotel seemingly in the middle of nowhere with an oasis of a swimming pool. We can’t quite believe our luck as we’ve discovered a small piece of paradise in sweaty, noisy, dusty Phnom Penh. We stay for hours reading on the sun loungers and taking dips in the pool as well as sampling the divine sorbet. What a weekend! What a life!