Kampong Cham and deep fried crickets

Ever wanted to hit fast forward on life’s remote control? Just skip right through those dull, scary or seedy bits and plop yourself right smack bang in the middle of a really good bit? I had one of those times last week; it was bound to happen of course. To write a Blog totally of sugar and spice would be neither accurate nor honest so in the interest of being an “honest Indian” here follows a bit of not “all things nice” . My “week” involved attending our first training program in another town. Let me preposition this by saying, if I could speak Khmer it would not have been nearly as bad a week. And whose fault is that? I know, I know; but you’d really only have to speak to my college French teacher for her to confirm that languages really aren’t my thing. Being a little hung-over on Sunday as I packed and got myself to the MEDiCAM office wasn’t a good way to start, it’s true. There were 4 of us on this trip, myself (the only non-Khmer speaker), two trainers and the driver. They enjoyed chatting the whole 2.5hr trip and if I’d really wanted to feel included I could have thrown some English into the mix but I was happy enough to nod off or just watch the interesting countryside flow past me. There’s not a hint of a hill in the landscape its flat fields for as far as the eye can see with the odd sporadic palm tree dotted about. Men with bullock teams plough the fields and the odd roadside stall breaks up the scene. We arrived at sunset in Kampong Cham and to the hotel that was to become my prison cell for the next 5 days. I managed to get everyone organised enough to set the training room up in close to western rather than Khmer time which meant we could still eat and get to bed before mid-night. My room was awful and the main reason behind my prison cell analogy. The sheets and towels were clean and there was cable on the tv (after two weeks of my own tv not working this was a saving grace for my sanity) but there endith any semblance to a haven from home. It had a very strong unidentifiable smell, was small and just four walls with the door the only opening. No windows and no natural light – maybe this was the real problem? Maybe I’m one of those creatures that’s natural habitat must include that amazing phenomenon called daylight. Otherwise my energy dwindles, I become scratchy, limp of limb and eventually just wither up into a decomposing pile of moist rags! If only they’d known all she needed was light! Oh gawd, I know I’m whinging but it was just too awful! On unlocking the door, I’d quickly flick the power switch on so that tv, fan and lights came on all at once in the vain hope that this would somehow bring life to the bat cave. I was down to the training room before 8am on the first morning to set up my laptop and projector and escape “the room” unfortunately there ended my tasks for the day. The rest of the time I sat myself at the very back of the room and did some reading and pulling together of notes as I’d had enough forethought to throw in some other work at the last minute just in case I had some spare time – what was I thinking??? All I had was spare time. The room was in the basement of the hotel and again home to a strong peculiar smell. The floors were concrete, the walls concrete and was of a long oblong shape. Not the most conducive room to training and I have to admit to nodding off at least twice in the morning alone – once again good forethought to position myself out of view. The training was all in Khmer so I pretty much understood one in every thousand word. What was my role here again?? Pretty stupid of me to have not really thought this one through but the Trainer had insisted that I needed to come, why? To observe? Ok, well I could see that he presented well, was animated, and had his participants engaged – these signals I picked up by witnessing the laugher from the students, their body language and the fact that they were asking questions. Hey, maybe I could sell my services as a qualified non verbal analyst?? -- “what was the crowd thinking Jacqui? “That’s easy! I can tell very clearly from my analysis including the all important non-verbal signals of nose picking and scratching of nether regions that they were overawed by your performance” -- could be a seller! But I digress . . . . I tried to offer feedback, suggest we might want to proceed as we’d originally planned but my offers of advice (me being the Organisation Development Advisor and all) were shrugged off. And so ended day 1 of a long 5 days of pretty much more of the same. The day was in Khmer, the lunch conversation was all Khmer and even when my workmates and myself went out for dinner the conversation was all in Khmer. Where was the only place I could find refuge – in “the room” - oh, god no wonder it was a horrendous week. As I said at the start of this tirade, it would have been less horrendous if I could have understood the language and yes I could have tried more consciously to interject myself into the conversation but for whatever reason – I was just to weary to even try. Maybe it’s because I’m at a culture shock milestone? It’s been fun and unique up until now, not understanding but enjoying just listening to the sound of the words and watching the people converse without needing to understand. It’s become less novel and a bit more tiring. Still, if this is the worst I have to go through, then “I will survive”. There’s three more training courses to get through before I finish this gig and I’m sure if I can just find the energy that I can turn them into positive experiences. Because if nothing else at least I can take away some lessons learnt from this week and do things a bit differently next time. There were some good bits to the week – thank god, I can hear you sign. I got to catch up with Terri a fellow Vida volunteer at a lovely café sitting on the river. We drank red wine, ate a big fat chicken breast with chips and best of all – had a much needed conversation in English. We made to head to Terri’s apartment after our meal but there were no motodops or Tuk-Tuks in sight so I started walking while Terri rode her bike beside me. It started to drizzle again so Terri suggested I run while she rode – nice idea Terri :o) it must have looked hilarious, a silly blonde haired barang wearing a white top (no one wears white here) and thongs jogging through puddles beside another barang riding a bike in the rain. Towards the end of the week I managed to convince the driver to take me out for an our to do a bit of site seeing. I got him to take me to the two Phnoms (hills) that sit next to each other, Phnom Srey and Phnom Prose. Both have temples built on them and Phnom Prose in particular is very impressive. There are two massive gold Buddha statues one upright and the other laying. Phnom Srey is hundreds of steps up and unlike Laos I had to have a wee rest half way up. Similar to Laos though I passed some elders coming up as I was going down. Once again they were delighted when I paid respect to them in Khmer one grabbing my hand and telling me “bonjour” (luckily I actually did manage to learn a few words in those long ago French classes). Another said something to me in Khmer which the driver later explained to me was a wish for me to have a long life. On Friday the training was finished at lunchtime and we managed to finally get away ourselves around 2pm. We stopped at the Angkor temple just outside Kampong Cham city, for a quick look around and I was truly amazed and impressed. Having been to Angkor Wat in Siem Reap I had something to compare it with and although no where near as large, this single Wat is equally as impressive. Apparently older than Angkor Wat, the stonework is slightly different but has the same intricate designs. It truly is a thing of wonder as you contemplate the simply amazing feat of engineering to produce something of its size and magnitude. Something the Cambodian people can feel justifiable pride in. And, better still I was the only tourist there which certainly lent to its charm. Next stop on our homeward journey is a roadside food market for fruit buying (myself and my workmates) and deep fried cricket buying (my workmates only) I did however take the attitude that you only live once and decided to bite the bullet or should I say the cricket. You can’t say “ew yuck” until you’ve tried it and you know if you close your eyes it’s really quite tasty. I’m not completely insane though and drew the line at trying the deep fried spiders. I’ve become a fruit fanatic, and it feels so decadent to be able to buy succulent mangoes, large fresh pineapples (which they happily prepare for you), Durian and Jackfruit all off the side of the road and at such sinfully cheap prices. We make it back to Phnom Penh around 5pm and I am thankfully dropped at my front door. Oh what bliss the sanctity and sanity of my sweet smelling, light filled home. I then finish the week by treated myself all weekend to facials, body scrubs, shopping and eating out.