Badminton

So here it is, my post on badminton as promised. Initially, I was going to rail on Shanti's badminton playing (and I still will to an extent), but the focus will instead lie elsewhere.

On Monday, after a long bus ride and a bit dirty - we hadn't had a real shower in any of our accommodation in Sihanoukville - we arrived home at about 5:00pm. We quickly rushed out to get haircuts at our respective locales on our street before they closed for the night (for those of you curious, yes, I got an even better $0.60 haircut than last time). Returning and both looking quite dapper, though still stinking, we decided to shower. However, prior to doing so, we thought it prudent to test out our new badminton racquets - the British spelling is much cooler than the American spelling - on our terrace. Mind you, I was near showering state - down to my boxers - while Shanti was still wearing shorts and a t-shirt. I should note, that it is a bit taboo to be so lacking in clothing in public; men almost always wear pants despite the heat and women usually cover themselves quite fully. Anyways, it was under these circumstances that we began playing.

I will say that the lighting was a bit poor, but Shanti did not live up to expectations as a formerly excellent badminton player. In fact, prior to playing, we made a little wager asking ourselves, how long will it be until the shuttlecock (shuttlecake to some) ends up on the roof. Shanti said twenty minutes and I said far fewer. Within the first twenty minutes I had climbed out on to the roof not once, not twice, not even thrice, but four times all at the hands of my counterpart. This, however, is not to say that I am an expert, but I did manage to keep the shuttlecock in bounds. But we enjoyed our limited space and low ceiling and managed to avoid breaking anything, including the fluorescent green and blue party lights that adorn the terrace.

Whilst we were enjoying ourselves, we (and me being in my boxers alone) gained an audience from a handful of girls, say four or five of them, a few houses down with a window on the same level of our terrace. I wasn't sure if they were more amused by our poor play or my outfit (or lack thereof). Slightly embarrassed, we waved to them, receiving a prompt and enthusiastic wave back.

A few nights later, walking home from work, I passed the girls' house and one girl was standing outside. I said 'how are you?' in Khmer (sok sobei day?) while she blushed a bit, answered that she was well, and looked away . The next night, Shanti and I again put our badminton skills to the test - with much better results on both sides I might add - and again won over a large audience, complete with clapping after some of our better "points." Anyways, we've decided to invite the girls over for ice cream (and perhaps to teach us a few things, badminton style). I'll let you know when it happens.