Thailand, water festival and island paradise - photos to come.

Thailand, what bliss to be heading there again, it always feels like my second home (well third at the moment, after Cambodia and Australia) Our trip starts with Cambodia giving us a hefty kick up the backside as we leave, in the form of $25us departure tax, which we never saw coming, and I accidentally eat my first piece of chocolate in three months but other than that the start of our trip is a smooth process until our taxi from Suvarnabhumi airport stops along the motorway to Bangkok city. The driver gets out and after a while I follow him - we have a flat but it’s ok cause the driver has already rung his mate. We stand on the side of the motorway and wait while streams of bright pink and yellow/green taxis all with tires ready to burst they are so full of air, zoom past us. The motorway police turn up and hospitably pose for a photo and provide Cara with a light for her cigarette. We don’t wait too long before our driver’s friend turns up and us, our luggage and spare tires are swapped between vehicles. Arr, so that’s why he didn’t change the flat. Our driver was a really cheery fellow and assured us “we no have accident” demonstrating by pointing to the Buddhism markings on the ceiling of his cab and the photos of the King and Queen and his mother on his dashboard – apparently we were in safe hands! That made me feel much better, especially as the faint bouquet of alcohol wafts over to the back seat and I’m pretty sure his eyes are closed as he veers precariously across lanes. We decide the best bet is to keep him talking and tried the New Year festivities as a topic. This roused him from his stupor alright but created other dangers for us as he became very animated and proceeded to take his hands off the steering wheel repeatedly in order to clap in demonstration of his excitement! It's reassuring to know there are many similarities between Cambodia and Thailand and the very first we discover is that taxi drivers in Thailand also say they know where your destination is when in reality they have no idea. The nice twin room in our hotel had turned into a grotty room with a double bed during the flight but we decided to make do that night but pay the extra for the upgrade for the following couple of nights. We found a great little restaurant called The Gallery, close to our hotel on Sukhamvit Road that first night. It was all old wood and looked like an old two storey Chinese shanty, lots of character. The menu was huge and the food great although the prices and the chilli I got caught in my throat were enough to make my eyes water. The people watching was also great, I’d forgotten how wild, crazy and funky people in Bangkok can be. We shopped for most of the next day – doing MBK some justice then on to an Electronics mega to buy Cara a laptop. We heard the protestors before we saw them as we crossed the walk bridge between the Paragon Centre and MBK. The trucks crowded with red shirts passed below us, loud speakers blaring and flags waving. We decided to take the tried and tested backpacker route that night and headed to KoSan Road by Tuk Tuk. The Tuk Tuk’s in Bangkok are on speed compared to their Khmer cousins, traveling at, at least double the speed and with twice as much noise. On reaching our destination I soon realized my fashion faux pas as my top became see-through and my jeans soaked as we were not only squirted with water from plastic guns but bowls of water were emptied on our heads! Then there was the Tiger balm talcum powder which relieved aches and pains as it decorated you in traditional New Year fashion. We sat and watched the shenanigans as we ate a meal and tried to dry out although there was really no escaping these festivities as water shots were fired and found their mark as random guns passed by. We found somewhere dry with music and a dance floor later on and danced in soggy jeans and see-through tops in airconditioned air! Brrrrrr. Two sisters good natured and full of fun joined us on the dance floor. Unfortunately the night ended on a bit of a sour note as a fist from an angry partner connected with my face instead of its intended target – one of the sisters. It wasn’t really what you'd call a king hit and I was stunned more than anything. The sisters were horrified and apologetic and there were tears when I told them not to ever let a man treat them like that. They tried to get us to carry on with them for another drink to apologize but I thought that was probably enough excitement for one night and our first in Bangkok - you know how the song goes . . . something about humble . . . I got up the next day with a very sore head (hangover) and sore eye socket (punch) – but was pleased to see no bruising. We managed to stay dry the next day long enough to have breakfast and book a bus to Koh Samet for the next day. We made the mistake of going to KoSan Road again and saw that things were just the same as the night before which meant there was no chance to shop – all stalls were packed away for the duration it would seem. To get away quickly and avoid getting saturated again we made our second mistake of the day and got into a Tuk Tuk! I don’t think I’ve ever been quite so wet with clothes on before. Groups of people lined the streets and if they didn’t have hoses to wet you they had bowls and buckets of water. Cara, until then, fairly hung over was quickly brought back to life after the first bucket filled with ice cold water was thrown at us. Our Tuk Tuk driver was considerate enough, to the crowds, to slow down so they got a better shot at us! It really was pretty hilarious as the mayhem continued along the roads and passengers in Tuk Tuks squirted water at other Tuk Tuks as they pulled up at lights or drove past. If only we were armed! There was one slightly sobering moment for us though, just after leaving KoSan Road we saw a road blocked off and at the entrance to it, a bus on fire. We could see smoke billowing from each end and flames devouring the tops of the seats inside, it was completely incongruous with the fun and celebrations two minutes down the road. With two sets of soaking wet clothes I headed to the rooftop pool and dried myself and my clothes out while I listened to the high-jinx’s going on many storeys below me on Sukhamvit Road. Away from the craziness (or so we thought) we headed in our mini-van (that amazingly was right on time), the two and a half hours south to Koh Samet Island. People were having water fights from the back of their 4x4 utes along the highway – don’t these people ever stop? We had to wait two hours for the next ferry so did what we do best and shopped. We were back at the pier in plenty of time to catch our ferry but had received no instructions on what part of the pier to wait at. Turns out we were in the wrong spot which we luckily discovered, after asking about a million people where we were supposed to be. A girl (our savior) knew English enough to race off on her motorbike and make a call to the ferry which had only just left (late) and was happy enough (well maybe not happy as such) to come back for us – thank god! On arriving on the island we too climbed on the back of one of those 4x4 utes with our luggage and proceeded to once again be soaked to the skin. Starting to get a little over it now, especially when luggage and electronic equipment is involved. The driver stopped, bless him, and his wife loaded our smaller bags and Cara’s new laptop into the cab with them. The resort was a welcome sight but unfortunately we were once again taken to a double- bed cottage and what seems to be an oft repeated enterprise – "of course we could have a twin room but unfortunately they’re only available in our more expensive rooms". Let us just say the final outcome of some fairly intense discussions involving the booking agency and the resort manager saw us upgraded to a lovely deluxe cottage with twin beds and a much nicer outlook! Game Title: “Try-it-on with Single Tourists”, Competitors: Cara & Jacqui vs Thai Hotels, Current Score: 1 all – thank you very much!!!! Koh Samet turns out to be a lovely small island, not too commercial or built up and with a pretty good mix of foreigners and Thai’s on holiday. We have a fantastic 5 days here and don’t wont to leave. We start the holiday with cocktails instead of dinner at a resort just a stroll away from ours. The prices are really reasonable but the English owner’s girlfriend-come-chef has gone AWOL. We get an (expensive) taxi 10 minutes along the road to another restaurant/bar on another beach where we sit cross legged on mats laid out under squat tables – brilliant! We venture to a couple more bars that night on the same beach. One which was a bit quiet saw the barman entertaining themselves by putting talcum powder on all the guests faces and at another we met two Cambodian barman who we got to practice our Khmer with. I also got taught some of the fundamentals of fire twirling and we had fun dancing in different wigs courtesy of the Thai couple who were the owners. Given the price of taxis (300 Baht – about $12aus for a 1/2km ride), we decided to hire a motorbike for a couple of days. The only paved road is on the part of the island where our resort sits but is not where the better beaches are. So we headed over the dirt and deeply rutted roads on a mission of discovery, building up my arm muscles as I struggled to keep myself, Cara and the motorbike moving in a straight line and upright! It was great fun and we did some great exploring, discovering a couple of beautiful, pretty, deserted beaches. We also found a sign saying “Sunset” and headed there the next night to watch the sun go down across the great expanse of ocean. We also did some walking, one day heading around a couple of peninsulas and some serious rock traversing to get to a secluded beach. Unfortunately it wasn’t a great beach and with concerns over the tide coming in and us being stranded we headed straight back. It was an absolutely steaming hot day and we followed our trekking with a swim at the beach in front of our resort. The water is like a bath but it still better to be immersed than sweating in the heat. I went to stand up in the water and put my foot straight onto a sea urchin. God, did it sting! I had no idea what a sting from a sea urchin entails so waddled to reception to ask their advice. One of the guys sat me down on the decking and dosed my foot in vinegar and then proceeded to tap it on the four puncture wounds with a beer bottle, luckily it was kind of numb. He told me what had entered my foot would come out of its own accord in about three days – oh good, at least I wasn’t going to keel over or anything. The rhythm of the island is go out late, stay out late and get up late, so that’s what we did. We met a local tattoo artist called Gai who also did a fire show at night so we went and checked that out. I have to say it was one of the best fire shows I’ve seen in Thailand and in 9 visits I’ve seen a few. There were 6 of them who shared the limelight and stretch of sand in front of the Silver Sands bar. They were all brown as berries with buff bodies bathed in perspiration so even without their fire show skills I think myself, Cara and every single female there, would have been kept entertained. There was cute factor as well as Gai’s nephew aged 7 put on his own fireshow – he was awesome, full of confidence and his own tricks! There were also gorgeous little puppies wandering around the beach mats so my world was pretty much complete – hot bods and cute puppies! We ate like kings, drank like fish and slept like babes – the perfect holiday!

Weddings, sunday rides and rude words

Emily, Kurt and Sobonn - heading out on our Sunday ride

Playing support crew at the Mekong River annual swim

Giving my wee silk selling friend a lift on Silk Island.

Having lunch at the beach, Silk Island Locals enjoying being in and on the water - Mekong River, Silk Island Dr Somuny's sisters wedding

Oxen and cart outside my apartment on Street 242.

Butchering pigs then shaving them also on the street along from my apartment

I love Cambodians! Leaving work yesterday one of the drivers (who never stops smiling and laughing) said to me “Yackie, you look very beautiful today” Isn’t that so nice? Of course, in my flustered state I said back to him in Khmer “It’s hot” instead of “thank you” but I think he got the message. And why Yackie?? there’s no “J” in the Khmer language so I quite often get called Yackie. “Yackie” –Yaklike, a bovine creature of hairy appearance with long horns. I’ll leave that thought right there. We had another trip to Sihanoukville and the beach the other weekend. We managed to get a taxi down there for a Khmer price – almost half of what we paid for the last trip. It’s great having Khmer friends to make the booking for you. Funnily enough it was the same driver and car that took us the first time. We were a few hours later reaching Sihnoukville, however, as the driver had to go to the market and then make deliveries enroute - we paid the Cambodian price it’s only fitting we receive the Cambodian level of service. We stay at “Cloud 9” bungalows this time, it's a great place with bugalows built up the hill behind the sea. They do food and have a bar with a barman that’s all character and pink shirts. He's a good choice of barman cause you want to sit and have a couple while he spins the lines in his Khmer-English with an American accent. Friday night is fairly eventful and not necessarily in a good way. We’re standing waiting for some food to be cooked when someone yells out “cool look, fireworks” we can see sparks flying into the sky across the road but soon realize it’s not fireworks but a fire! A whole guest house, newly built, goes up before our eyes. All that’s left is a shell in what feels like minutes. There’s no fire brigade and we fell sick as we wonder if there was anyone inside. As it turned out a friend of ours met last time we were in S.Ville was the only one staying there and thank god he wasn’t inside at the time. He'd had to race back in to rescue his possessions but wasn't lucky enought to save everything. Worse still the owners saw it as a chance to recoop some of their loses and decided to lay the blame for the fire at Rob's feet. He discoverd this the next day when he went to the Police station to make a report for his insurance. The police let him know that he was being held responsible and accordingly he had to pay a $30,000 fine. Thankfully he works locally and could bring in reinforcements in the form of a priest and the priests very ivfluential friends who happened to also be police – the charges were dropped straight away. Just shows how quickly things can go pear shaped here and just as quickly, if you're lucky, go right again. We spent most of the rest of the weekend lazing around Otres beach on sun loungers and frolicking (so maybe we weren’t frolicking but the word sounded right) in a sea with a very tepid temperature. The young girls that wander the beach trying to entice you into purchasing their wares are not aggressive. They’re just happy to spend time sitting on your sunlounger in the shade chatting and sharing a laugh until you know them enough that you give in and end up buying something that you really didn’t want or need. Well that’s how it is for me anyway. Over two days I ended up; getting a massage, buying a sarong and three bracelets (had to be fair, couldn’t buy off one girl and not another) and agreeing to having my leg hair plucked out individually with some lengths of cotton! Gees, these girls can be convincing! Five minutes into the hair extraction I was regretting my insanity as my calf cramped up and I leapt up off the sunlounger sending both girls (one for each leg) flying off the end of it. Quite an entertaining thing to watch I can imagine as the girls shrieked with surprise and then laughter. The next week saw me attending another Khmer wedding celebration, this time for the sister of our Executive Director. Amazingly, by Khmer standards she’s ancient for getting married, she’s 42! Actually that’s ancient by Western standards – there’s hope for me yet :o) The whole of MEDiCAM leaves from work at 8am and heads south for 40mins to Kampong Speu where the party/ceremony is taking place. As we arrive we are made to feel like VIP’s as we’re led to sit with the bridal party and their family. The Master of Ceremonies (who oddly has a Hitler type mustache drawn on his lip and a wig of dreadlocks on his head) draws attention to our arrival and especially to the two westerners. We’re just in time to see the third of the five ceremonies, the second having taken place at 7am that morning and the first the night before. The bride has her own stylist to assist with costume changes and hair and makeup throughout the day. Mr Hak our communications manager translates the proceedings to me which are like the Khmers themselves, steeped in tradition but also amazingly colorful, relaxed and full of fun. We watch one other ceremony and then head off in different directions until we all come back together at 4pm for the eating of the meal. The girls head off to get their hair and makeup done and the boys head off to the neighbors house to play cards and try and win money off each other. Me and Emily head to the markets for a look see. It’s like all Cambodian markets, tightly packed together stalls selling anything from underwear to offal and full of smells that make your eyes water. We get back to the wedding all dolled up (not to be outdone by our Khmer sisters) but don’t eat until the majority of the guests have eaten and left. I find it quite strange but most of the guests arrive, eat, provide a present in the form of a donation and then leave. It’s only family and close friends that stay around for any length of time and get involved in the drinking and the dancing. Of course MEDiCAM gets really involved in the drinking and dancing – myself and Emily struggle to get any time in our seats as we’re constantly approached for a dance around the table of fruit. The boys are drinking whiskey with soda and getting really quite merry. There’s no issue of getting pulled up for drunk driving however as the local police officer is drinking with them, that is when he’s not up dancing or singing with the band. He’s handedly parked his police motorcycle in amongst the wedding tables – hey there are criminals out there! We return to Phnom Penh the next morning with many a sore head, amazingly for once it’s not the westerners who have been the drunken bums and best of all we don’t have to be back at work until after lunch which means 1.30!

I have another action packed weekend which includes breakfast at Java and a visit to the Russian Market to drop off a skirt to be altered. Then we move onto Khmer massages and a facial – oh what bliss. My body and my face are in second heaven! I’m then running late for dinner which is Indian with a very annoying Indian owner “oh no, you must have two Chappati, you cannot be having only one”. Then it’s off to a show – The Vagina Monologues and a full house. I’d never heard of it before but apparently it’s been on in Australia for a few years. A show created to bring awareness of and support to the abuse of women. The funniest bit would have to be the moaning sequence where when asked what the moan of a single female expat. in Phnom Penh sounds like . . . there was silence. Yep, there sure aren’t much moaning going on here!

Sunday, four of us meet early for lunch and then head off on our cycles across the Japanese Friendship bridge to watch the start of the annual Mekong swim. The fastest swimmer made it across in 7min the slowest in 45 - but hey he was 71. We hitched a ride on a ferry with our bikes and headed across to silk island where I’d been a few weeks earlier with Peta. It was nice cycling along the narrow dirt road surrounded by mango trees, fields and cows although it wasn’t really what you’d call peaceful as a lady on her motorbike decided to ride along beside us chatting. Even Sobonn who’s Khmer thought she could talk a lot. We eventually agreed to buy lunch off her and she left us be. We spent a few hours at the beach again and I gave in and bought a piece of silk and some scarves. The weaving is really exquisite. It was a glorious day in the heat and dust on our bikes, we ended up clocking up about 70km’s and our bodies definitely noticed they’d done some work. Monday sees me and Emily swotting for our Khmer lesson on Tuesday. Last week I asked our tutor if we could move onto the next lesson but she told us not until we'd past the first one - oh the pressure! We did ok though and have moved on although she did say we needed to be careful when we said "hot" as said wrongly could be a bad word. Of course we asked her what bad word but she just giggled and said it was to do with men but was too embarrassed to tell us. That would explain the reason the driver is always smiling and giggling when I talk to him. There's me thinking I've been saying "it's very hot" and instead I've been telling him he's got a very big . . . .

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!

A weekend at the beach and english speaking soldiers

Two months yesterday it was! Incredible how that time has past in a blink and incredible that I’ve actually been disciplined enough to keep writing my blog – are you impressed Miss? :o) A new group of volunteers arrived from Australia this week one of whom is coming to work here with me – YEAH! It will be good to have someone just to bounce ideas off, go to lunch and have a laugh with. Don’t get me wrong, I have laughs with some of my other workmates, especially Khun (see photo in post dated February 10) he’s got a great, dry sense of humor and quite often cracks me up. The week has kind of passed in a blur – a long weekend down on the coast at Sihanouk Ville and back to work Tuesday where things have gone into bedlam mode as we prepare for our AGM next week. It’s the 20 year anniversary of MEDiCAM this year so the Health Minister and other important government types will be attending, important stuff! I have been organizing placement of the NGO’s exhibitions as well as designing brochures and flyers for our own exhibition – it's great to be involved and to feel like I'm adding some value. The Trainers I came here to support finally arrived this week so I’ve also been trying to get some organization happening there, creating an action plan, finalizing the curriculum etc. But now onto more important topics – our weekend at the beach! I’ve really never thought of myself as anything other than “odd” and the fact that I hate sand, swimming and waves yet still LOVE going to the beach only proves my theory! Our taxi ride down was uneventful other than the normal “oh my god, we’re going to die in a head-on collision” scenario and the fact that the driver drove for km’s on end with his indicators on while I slowly went mad with the noise of it! Rear vision mirrors are optional it would appear as ours had been covered with an LCD screen and we enjoyed Khmer Karaoke for 4 hours – did I say enjoy? We picked up crazy Cara at Kampong Speu (affectionately known as the Spew) enroute, and landed in Sihanouk Ville and more precisely, Serendipity Beach around 7.30pm. Our accommodation was fine, if a little rustic (the toilet seemed to do a little dance underneath you as you sat down or moved) but with an awesome view of the ocean. We were drink in hand at one of the numerous bar/cafes on the beach by 8pm and were absorbing that sublime “I’m at the beach atmosphere”. Our waiter, a western guy was clearly living on planet “I’ve been here smoking awesome weed for the last 6 months man” managed to keep the drinks coming in a steady stream. The stream consisted of beers for 50c and spirits for a dollar! We moved onto a venue with a dance floor (all on the beach) where a young, friendly but crazy Israeli backpacker was dancing with two young Khmer girls showing them his crazy dance moves. The girls were having an awesome time, crazy dancing, throwing ice and water at him - all innocent fun but you couldn’t help but think about how easily they could be exploited in a country notorious for it. Thankfully we discovered there was a couple supervising the them who they eventually left on the back of a motorbike with. The rest of the weekend followed the same kind of theme, beach during the day, dinner, drinking and partying until the wee small hours. For some of us the hours were weer than others – hey, I need my beauty sleep! :o) We did get a bit of rain over the weekend which was unusual but nice to hear it pattering on the roof as you lay in your hammock or mosquito net covered bed. Sunday we discovered Otres Beach which was truly gorgeous compared to Serendipity. Harder to get to and therefore less people which is turn means less pollution. Serendipity is a fairly typical touristy beach in SouthEast Asia in that there are too many tourists, hawkers and a rubbish situation that is not well managed by the local authorities. Get past that and it’s not that bad. Otres on the other hand, had clear waters, fine sand and few "you want to buy braclet or sarong" sellers to annoy you as you louged. The sauna was complimentary on the return bus trip to Phnom Penh as the air conditioner struggled to throw out anything other than a warm-breath kind of breeze. That was not to be the end of the fun on our bus trip though, we broke down about 10km out of P.P. Ot bunyaha (no problem in Khmer) , as we completed the last part of our journey in the slowest Tuk-tuk known to man while the bus continued to bunny-hop (a pretty impressive feat for a bus) in the car park where it had chosen to end it's journey. I managed to get in some exercise time during the week to try and offset the abuse I had put my body, my temple through. Let us just say the temple needed some minor repair work and a good hose and scrub. Thursday night four of us joined a group from the Australian Embassy on a practice speaking English event at a Cambodian military academy. They put on a BBQ and drinks for us and all we had to do was stand around and chat with the soldiers. It was actually quite interesting and fun. I taught one of them to say “laid back” he thought it was a great saying. I love the way they are not bashful or shy about expressing their emotions – one of them who’s Khmer name means February (as that was the month he was born in – makes sense) said he reads the English papers every day to help learn English and explained that it makes him very sad reading the papers and he in fact quite often cries. Maybe some of it was lost in translation but it was still touching that he would even talk about it. From what I could gather the majority of them only join up to gain the free education with learning English at the top of the list. They can also gain scholarships to go and train in places like the States, China and Australia. They all talked about their villages and want you to visit them there. February invited me to come and visit him on my way back from Thailand at New Year (he lives on the Cambodian/Thai border) and said he would make a party for me listing all the meat he would provide. They politely told us it was a pleasure to meet us and to please make sure and come back next month. A lovely evening. Thought I'd include some photos on this week blog: First - daughter helping Mum on her stall at Psar Órsay Second - the trusty Scooby Third - at work Last - Another stall at Orsay Market - love those pink eggs!

Goodbyes, and a Khmer wedding

Pretty amazing to think I’ve spent approximately 22 hours sharing the same motorbike seat as someone and I’ve spoken fewer words to them, in that time, than I would speak at my regular dentist checkup. So, we didn’t really have big chats me and Yuan but we still managed to have some laughs, like the way I'd laugh as the rear-vision mirror reflected the look of horror on his face when we had a near miss and that would make him start laughing too. He’d also get a good laugh out of my feeble attempts to communicate with him in Khmer. Without conversation I was also able to get a basic understanding of what type of person he is, trustworthy, kind and considerate – he’d always check to make sure my big legs were fitting as we attempted to squeeze ourselves through a narrow gap between two cars. It's actually nice not to talk or nice not to feel compelled to fill the space. And therefore, it was a bit of a strange feeling as he dropped me off on the Friday night and I thanked him for keeping me safe and provided him with a bit of extra money. I think I’ll miss his big cheeky grin. Maybe he misses me as well as he sent me this text on Monday “Hello miss vek ky (think this is meant to be Jacqui) HOWare you? Good BY THankyou”. Now the cynical ones of us could say he was just keeping me sweet to keep some money coming in but either way, it made me smile that he’d gone to the effort. Friday night was a night of drinking (which included a cocktail that tasted like almond icing), dancing at Elsewhere (which still hasn’t closed down) and Mr Jim, our legendary Tuk Tuk driver seeing us all safely home again. My head did not seem to agree with my choice of drinks the next morning as I struggled to get myself ready for a shopping trip with one of the ladies from work. She picked me up from Lucky Supermarket and before I knew what was going on, I’d agree to go to work with her and help in the writing of a proposal. I was really in no fit state to shop, let alone work but somehow I managed to survive the day. It was actually a good experience for breaking down any remaining barriers and it gave me the opportunity to show them what I’m capable of. There were six of us working and we all went out to lunch together. It was fun to go to a real Khmer restaurant and try some different foods; I always seem to find something I really like. It also meant I got invited to a Khmer wedding they were all attending the next night – the It assistant was getting married. I’d already been invited to a friends birthday drinks but it was too good an opportunity to miss. Kalyan offered to drive me as the wedding was being held at the Brides family’s home and was quite some distance out of Phnom Penh. While I was waiting for her at our rendezvous point – the Royal Palace, a well dressed Khmer man of (I’m guessing) about 40 years of age came up to me for a chat. His English was pretty good and he asked me the usually, where I was from, how long was I in Cambodia for, who did I work for. Then he said “I would like to take you on my motorbike to go for a chat” – this was a little unnerving I have to admit. He said he was alone, his mother had died during the Khmer Rouge time and his father had died 4 years ago from what sounded like cirrhosis of the liver, there was definitely drink involved anyway. I think the poor bloke was lonely but I was pretty glad when Kalyan turned up. She’d brought her 6 year old son with her and it was just so adorable hearing him chatter away in Khmer. The wedding was a vibrant, noisy and joyous affair with lots of streamers, fake snow and fruit. The Khmer women provide most of the color through their makeup and costumes which sparkled and gleamed. Groups arrive throughout the night and get served a meal soon after they arrive – that would have to be a bit of a logistical nightmare but the 4 or 5 courses (I lost count) always arrived hot. The men stand up and do “cheers” over and over again at their individual tables. The drinks are soft or beer only and the beer is served warm with great dollops of ice. The local children wander about the wedding tent asking for the cans off the tables for which they’ll gain some cash. It’s a bit disconcerting that even at a private function you are still exposed to the scrimping for survival. When I get up to take some photos the a lady at the table next to us is very animated about something – I understand that she wants me to take her photo and she giggles with delight as I show her the end product. She then equally animatedly asks me something else and through help I understand that she wants me to have two dances with her – very specific about the two she was. The band is all Khmer and the dancing is all Khmer but music is music and you can always find a beat somewhere. They all move around the centre table that is piled high with fruit. The moves are very deliberate and the hands are the main focus. The animated woman grabbed me in the middle of dessert and dragged me up to the dance floor, she gave the MC instructions and the next thing the bands back playing again and he’s announcing to the whole wedding that I’m about to dance and that I was to lead. God, you wouldn’t want to be shy. A lovely old man kept coming up to me with his thumbs up – giving me much needed encouragement. Everywhere I looked out into the audience, as the wedding guests had now become, I saw big smiles – at least they were enjoying it. Kids laughed at me and practiced their “hallos” as I went round and round the table to a song that just wouldn’t seem to end. There were some funky Khmer songs and a few men came up and presented me with mandarins while I was dancing with my workmates to these songs. Soon the evening was over or so I thought although the animated lady thought otherwise. Instead of gifts everyone puts money into the envelopes provided for each group of guests. It was while I was trying to sort this out that she grabbed me and hauled me up to the dance floor again. She just wouldn’t take no for an answer and I had to yell behind me to Sopheak the IT guy from work to look after my stuff. We danced another song with her and her husband while he give me instructions on how to hold my hands and turn them gently at the wrists. It was enlightening although becoming less fun as I saw the MEDiCAM crew all leaving. At the end of that 8 hour song I tried to beat a retreat but she just would not let me go, physically pulling me back onto the floor. I was actually starting to feel very uncomfortable about how I was going to handle this situation. Thank goodness a friend of the lady’s came to my rescue and when I explained that I had to go as my friends were leaving without me, the animated lady finally stopped manhandling me and let me go. It reminded me of being a child at a wedding when someone’s drunk great old Aunty May wont let you go. Except in this case, the woman wasn’t drunk.

Exercise, Sunsets and Sucking it up

I had to break the news to Yuan today that I’d bought myself a motorbike and would no longer be needing his services. I really felt quite bad about it and it took me until the afternoon to get the courage up, I've paid him for the week as I wanted to give him some notice and I don't know if that's more to ease my feeling of guilt or to keep paying him for just a bit longer. A friend had said that Motodop drivers struggle to earn about a dollar a day and here was me giving Yuan $4 a day, which has hopefully helped that little bit. One day on coming out from work I find him waiting for me and reading a pamphlet on English lessons and I hoped that to some degree I was making those English lessons possible for him. However, a week later the Moto is running like a hairy goat and I think I was actually quite lucky to be making it to work and back each day. He took the motorbike in over the weekend to be fixed and it cost him $70, a massive amount of money when you’re earning $1 a day or even $4 a day. (In Australian terms that would amount to approximately the equivalent of $15,000 to $20,000.) And then I have to go and break the news to him that his $4 a day is about to disappear before his eyes??? Crap! Still, all I can do is hope that he has been sensible with the money he’s earnt so far and that his positive Buddhist philosophy kicks in. As I’ve already paid Yuan for the coming week, there’s every chance he might not turn up for our next journey to MEDiCAM. But, my faith in my believe that human beings will generally do the “right thing” is restored as I open my gate the next morning and see him sitting there on his motorbike waiting for me, the usual big smile on his face. I’ve bought a flashing rear light for my pushbike and get some funny reactions from young Khmers as they ride past me on my way to attend the NataRaj Yoga centre on Monday night. I really enjoy the experience of gently pushing my body into the extremes of its capability in a yoga class. After years of running and cycling there’s just no way my calves are ever going to stretch enough to place my feet flat on the ground in “downward dog” but I’m definitely up for the challenge of seeing how much closer to flat I can get them. I’ll be the first to admit however, that I have a very short attention span and find my mind is wandering throughout the class to what I’m going to have for dinner when I’m meant to be “with my breath”. Oh well, onwards and upwards or should that be downwards! I took myself off for lunch today at Khmer “Starbucks” – they’ve improved on the menu since I was last there. They now have the meals written in English so you can more accurately order what you want. I say, more accurately, because although I ordered Fried Rice with Chicken today I got served some kind of pork dish. If I was at home I probably would have told them it was the wrong order and got then to replace it but here I just look it as an opportunity to try something I might not otherwise have tried. I’d been feeling a bit out of sorts today so decide that going for a run and getting my blood coursing through my veins is just what is required. And so, I jump on my lovely white stead with the white-wall tires and run the gauntlet of traffic along Sihanouk Boulevard to the Independence Monument. I feel every trip on my bike is a daredevil adventure where only those with the fleetest-of-wheel, keenest of vision and nerves of steel, survive! Well, it’s not quite that bad but you get the picture. I can’t wait to start riding my Scooby to work next week! All my lovely Khmer friends have beaten me there and are already exercising – there are hundreds of them! Mostly walking, but also playing badminton, some kind of football and there’s a couple of runners besides me as well. (That’s good! when I used to run at lunchtime in Dublin, 10 years ago, I was always the only one.) It really is a social outing; children are playing, non exercisers are sitting and watching and entrepreneurs are peddling their wares. These amount to, bottles of water and other adventurous drinks as well as sets of domestic bathroom scales, obviously to check if the exercise is actually doing some good. The Independence Monument sits at the top of this park where all the action is taking place. It is like a massive medium strip surrounded by busy roads on all edges. It has a wide expanse of grassed area in the middle with a footpath traveling all the way around the edge and crossing it in sections. I stop after my run to sit and watch one of the many football games, taking place all along one edge of the park. The game is fast and furious and they’re playing on concrete with only two of the players wearing shoes. The goals are sets of jandals, the sidelines; the grassed verge on one side and the road and passing traffic on the other. The ball is small (about the size of a coconut) hollow and made out of cane, I think. It’s tough though or maybe it’s just lucky and manages to miss the cars wheels as it frequently rolls out into the traffic. Most of them play in tshirts and jeans which make it seem like they’ve just started up an impromptu game, but I have a feeling that these guys have been coming here for years developing their skills. Groups of Monks stroll past me in their beautiful tangerine coloured gowns as the sun is setting behind the Monument on another beautiful Khmer day. A friend Ang, wrote on her Faceook today what I thought was a great quotation: “Life is tough, Suck it up”. It made me stop and think that it’s usually the people that are the worst off that actually do, just that. They “suck it up”. Maybe the easier we have it the more whinging and complaining we do?? And no, that trait is definitely not just reserved for those lovely friends of ours from the UK – lets just listen to ourselves for a while; “it’s too hot”, “it’s too cold”, “petrol is soo expensive”, “that b@@stard just dared to try and move into my lane”, “there’s no time to do anything”, “there’s too many bus lanes”, “cyclists should be banned from existence”, “if only people weren’t so stupid” etc, etc – we’re all guilty of it. Ok, so it’s all relative you say, but maybe, we’ve actually lost a bit of our touch with reality. Maybe we should just practice “sucking it up” a bit more. I’m going to try, anyway.

Scooby, Italian men and Hokey Pokey icecream

Right no more movies at the Meta House for a while! Being suckers for punishment we went again on Tuesday night and watched a film more horrific than the one from last week. This one was filmed in the 1970’s straight after the Vietnamese assisted in removing Pol Pot and his cronies from power. It’s pretty harrowing but if you want to see exactly how cruel man can be against his own kind then this is the movie for you! And unusually, in this case, the association for cruelty was not religion or oil, just greed for power and a deluded, demented strategy for their own kind and country. If you talk to teenagers here they’ll say, that the Khmer Rouge time was their parents life and has nothing to do with them. A fairly shortsighted view when you consider the psychological scars that have to have been passed onto the next generation plus if you take into consideration the condition of the country and how it has taken the last 30 something years to crawl its way back from the brink in the main part through the assistance of other countries. How can they believe that it means nothing to them as half the country still struggles for enough to eat and clean water to drink? But a friend wisely pointed out, in Buddhism, there is no yesterday, no tomorrow there is only today. Hhhmm I think there could be a a big debate bubbling away on the surface of that cauldron. I need a good old dose of American cinematographic escapism for a while :o) Well it wasn’t quite what I ordered but Friday night dished up a French movie which is almost always better than American (at the French Cultural Centre) but this one left me a little perplexed. The best bit was the cost (free) and the, oh so lovely air-conditioning. For a line in all that’s new – I walked out of the office today to go and meet a friend for lunch and saw both a goat and a brood of chickens pecking away at the grass. What did you see outside work when you left your office today? I picked up my new Honda Scooby on the weekend. Oh she’s so fine, 50cc of pure power!! Me and Scooby, scooby’ed around for a while, getting the feel of the road and then I stopped at a supermarket to buy a bottle of red. At this juncture I’d just like to comment on the fact that you can buy a bottle of vodka (Smirnoff) for the same price as a bottle of red and what’s more, you can buy both of them at the supermarket! But I digress,...... it all got a bit embarrassing on Scooby at the supermarket as I quickly got told by the lovely Khmer man that I’d parked in the wrong spot and then getting all flustered at having to move her I couldn’t then work out how to release the seat to remove my wallet and bag from her neither regions. Finally a man (don’t you love being a female and having a man turn up at just the right time, bugger woman’s lib, I could’ve been there all day!) arrived on his scooter looking like he was just picking up some treats before heading off to Mardi Gras (I hope he doesn’t read this). He was Italian I think, judging from the accent but what better person to help me with my scooter problem? He showed me that I needed to give my seat a good whack before pushing the key in and sure enough up the seat popped. We’ll that’s lesson number one of riding Scooby out of the way. I thought it safer to go straight home with my bottle of vodka and wine – I’m just kidding! I only got the wine - and save more adventures with Scooby for another day. The power went off again on Friday night, which was ok as it was nearly bedtime anyway. I turned the fan on in my bedroom in the vain hope it would come on again while I was asleep but unfortunately it was still off the next morning. As fate would have it, I’d actually polished off my ($6aus for a scoop and a bit) New Zealand Hokey Pokey ice-cream the night before, so all was not lost. Sunday was a tough day, I found myself a hotel pool to lie beside and practice my Khmer while sipping juice shakes and eating chicken sandwiches. I topped that off with half price cocktails at FCC for Sunday aftenooners. A nice relaxing weekend indeed.